Politics on the Streets of Belfast

Belfast is a fantastic city for street art and murals, which feature heavily in the city’s finely-balanced political situation (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

My summer holiday this year was a road trip around Ireland with my sister. Our first stop was Belfast, which was I very excited about. I love street art, and I love the history of rebellion and resistance, so it felt like the perfect city for me. Although Irish history is not really taught in English schools, I was aware of the euphemistically named ‘Troubles’ in a vague sense that was heavily influenced by my parents’ perceptions of it; Mum in particular was a little bit nervous about us going to Northern Ireland, even 25 years after the Good Friday Agreement. We both made an effort to get to know the history a little bit better before going (I highly recommend the BBC documentary series Once Upon a Time in Northern Ireland for a clear and concise account of the Troubles from start to ‘finish’). This is definitely one of those situations, however, where visiting a place gives you an insight that it is impossible to get from a book or a documentary.

I took my car over to Belfast from Scotland on the ferry, so we used a website to rent someone’s driveway whilst we were in the city (it’s a bit like AirBnB but for cars). When we arrived in the neighbourhood, we were taken aback by the loyalist flags and murals that adorned walls and lampposts. It is one thing to expect to find a lot of political murals in a city, it is quite another to turn a corner into a street an immediately be able to tell the political allegiances of it’s residents. Politics in Belfast is highly visible in public spaces of residential areas.

This mural greeted us as we arrived in the neighbourhood where we left the car whilst in Belfast. The UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force) is a loyalist paramilitary group founded in the mid-1960s (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

If I am asked about my national identity, I will say that I am British. But I wear my nationality loosely; I think nationalism causes a lot more problems than it solves, and it just isn’t that important to me. Walking around the loyalist areas of Belfast, I was confronted with an expression of British nationalism that felt quite alien to me, mainly in terms of how fierce it was. There were Union flags EVERYWHERE, alongside flags of Northern Ireland. There were murals dedication to Queen Elizabeth and King Charles, and other commemorated the losses of various parts of the British Army. I understand it; when a group feels threatened it is not uncommon to cling to that shared identity more tightly, but it is a very different Britishness to the one I am used too.

A mural celebrating King Charles III on the Shankill Road, one of the most well-known loyalist areas in Belfast. The Britishness expressed in these areas was one that felt quite distance to me, even as person who normally describes myself as British (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

The Republican areas of Belfast express an Irish identity just as fiercely as the loyalist areas express a British identity. It is generally more outward-looking, expressing solidarity with international groups and campaigns such as Palestine and Black Lives Matter. There are not many things that Republicans and loyalists agree on (for example, loyalists tend to support Israel for a range of reasons, a significant one being that Republicans tend to support Palestine), so it is interesting that both groups are so prolific in their use of street art and murals. I would love to know more about the history of murals in Northern Ireland to gain a better understanding of how this situation developed (so if anyone knows of any good sources on this, please let me know!)

A mural on the Falls Road commemorating the 1916 Easter Rising, during which republicans in Dublin attempted to win Independence for Ireland by force (Photo: Hannah Awcock).
A mural in the Falls Road area expressing solidarity with Prisoners of War. One of the clasped arms is wearing the Irish flag, the other wears the Palestinian flag (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

Separating many of the loyalist and Republican areas of Belfast are so-called Peace Walls. First built as temporary structures in 1969 at the beginning of the Troubles, many people in Northern Ireland still need them to feel safe in their neighbourhoods. I clearly remember the moment I first found out about them, at a conference during my PhD. I was shocked both that such structures exist in modern Britain, and that I didn’t know about them before; it is striking that they are not more widely known in the UK. Despite a commitment by the Northern Ireland Executive in 2013 to remove all Peace Walls by 2023, there are more today than there where when the Good Friday Agreement was signed in 1998. Cynics suggest that they are still in place because they are a popular tourist attraction in their own right. I would guess that the tensions caused by Brexit and the Northern Ireland Protocol have also slowed down their removal.

The Peace Walls have become a tourist attraction in their own right- there are two ‘black taxi tours’ (taxi drivers drive tourists around key sites and tell them about the Troubles) in this photo. Tourists sign this wall, which separates the famous Shankill Road and Falls Road areas (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

Given my interest in street art and political history, there wasn’t really any doubt that I would find Belfast a fascinating place. The city’s recent history and politics is inscribed into the urban fabric in a way that I have never seen anywhere else. What I was less prepared for was how much it would make me reflect on my own identity, and the gaps in my knowledge of the history of my own country.

Edinburgh’s Political Stickers: The Police

Rioting across France has made the news over the last week, sparked by the killing of Nahel Merzouk, a teenager of Algerian descent, by a police officer. Nahel was shot in the chest during a traffic stop in Nanterre, a suburb of Paris, on 27th of June. The officer involved has been charged with voluntary homicide, but that has not calmed the rioting that has erupted in cities across France. Also last week, a BBC documentary named a sixth suspect in the racially-motivated murder of black teenager Stephen Lawrence in London in 1993, leading to calls for further investigations into institutional racism in the Metropolitan Police. The combination of these two stories prompted me to take a look at anti-police political stickers in Edinburgh. The Police are not the most common topic of protest stickers, but whilst other topics come and go, this one does remain fairly constant (I have written two blog posts about anti-police stickers in London, here and here).

A lot of stickers criticising the polica use this acronym, which stands for ‘All Cops are Bastards’. This ties into the argument that the violence and discrimination committed by police officers, particularly against minority groups, is not the result of a few ‘bad apples’, but is actually a feature of the policing system (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 28/11/2021).
A more complex design that also incoporates the ACAB acronym (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 28/11/2021).
Stickers like this one play with the acronym, suggesting it stands for other things, but the anti-police meaning is always there (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/10/2022).
This sticker also builds on the ACAB acronym by changing it to make it even less forgiving (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 05/02/2023).
This sticker has a rather more elaborate design, but the message is just as clear (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 31/08/2020).
The text on this sticker is in German and translates as ‘No friend, no helper.’ Police officers sometimes use seemingly innocent friendly conversations to gater intelligence, particularly during protests, so activists engage with them as little as possible (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 27/03/2021).
This sticker conveys the same message, although I’m not sure what the relevance of the shark-human hybrid is! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 28/09/2022).
A simple design, but it gets the message across. This sticker was produced by Dog Section Press, an anti-profit radical publisher (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 28/09/2022).
This sticker also calls for the abolition of police, describing them as the ‘biggest gang in town’ (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 17/02/2022).
This sticker plays with the common association of police officers and pigs. Describing police as pigs goes back to the 1870s. (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 28/11/2022).
This sticker includes a more specific criticism of the UK police, and mimics the style of material produced by the British governmment (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 16/05/2021).
Blue Lives Matter was a slogan that appeared in response to the Black Lives Matter campaign, arguing that police officers have a right to use violence to defend themselves. This sticker subverts that slogan in turn, and also incorporates the ACAB acronym (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 26/10/2021)

Political Grafitti in the Innocent Tunnel

The Innocent Tunnel is part of a former railway that runs under a corner of Holyrood Park. The railway is now a cycle path, and the tunnel has become a hot spot for street art and grafitti (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).

The Edinburgh and Dalkeith Railway used to run from Newington to Brunstane to the east of Edinburgh. Opened in 1831, the line was built to bring coal in to the city. It started to carry passengers as well, and became very popular. It was known as the Innocent Railway because the trains were pulled by horses. It was quickly overtaken by steam-powered railways though, and closed to passengers in 1847. It stopped carrying goods in 1968, and reopened as a foot and cycle path in the 1980s. The Innocent Railway Tunnel runs for 517m under Holyrood Park and is popular with grafitti and street artists. The entire length of the tunnel is covered with tags, murals, and slogans, and some of it is political.

Trans rights should not be controversial, but unfortunately trans people are facing increasing discrimination and attacks in contemporary society. The trans flag is a symbol of defiance as well as acceptance (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 caused in international outpouring of solidarity (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
‘Slava Ukraine’ means ‘Glory to Ukraine’. It is a patriotic slogan that has gained international recognition over the last year. It looks like the slogan in this piece has been covered up and replaced at least once (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
This mural has also been at least partially covered up, but it is still possible to make out the Palestinian flag under the white paint on the right hand side of the image. Somebody has sprayed “Free Palestine” on top of the white paint, just in case the original message “Scotland stands with Palestine” isn’t clear (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
I feel like this one is fairly self-explanatory (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
ACAB is a well-known acronym amongst radicals and activists. It stands for All Cops Are Bastards (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
‘Cymru Rydd’ means ‘Free Wales’. I have seen slogans for the Welsh Independence movement relatively often around Edinburgh. It makes sense that there would be solidarity between the various UK Independence movements (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/03/2023).
This one isn’t exactly political, but I like to finish on a positive note! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 12/02/2023).

Stockholm’s Political Stickers

Ok, so this isn’t technically a political sticker, but the photo is too good not to use! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022).

The final stop on my Scandinavian jaunt was Stockholm, the capital of Sweden. There was a General Election in Sweden on the 11th of September 2022, and when we were there in mid-August the city was covered in campaign posters. It was interesting to think about how ‘official’ political campaigns use the streets to convey messages compared to political stickers. What it really emphasised to me was the wide variety of ways in which public spaces and city streets are politicised.

The text on this sticker translates to “No to war! No to NATO! Sweden will not join the US war alliance”. The Russian invasion of Ukraine in March 2022 sparked heated debates about whether or not Scandinavian countries should join NATO (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022)
This sticker is also referencing the Russian invasion of Ukraine, or at least the rule of Russian president Putin. In the photo, a child-sized Putin is being praised by an adult-sized Hitler, drawing a link between Putin and fascism (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 15/08/2022).
This simple representation of the trans flag has been made with coloured pencils or crayons and attached to a lamppost with sellotape. At a time when trans people and their rights are under sustained and vicious attacks, displaying the flag is an act of resistance (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022).
This sticker was produced by the Stockholm group of Fridays for Future, and international network of school strikes for climate. The very first school striker, Greta Thunberg, was born in Stockholm, although her influence now goes much further (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022)
This sticker directly references Greta Thunberg. I found the design a little confusing, but I suppose I got the message eventually (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 14/08/2022).
These stickers were made by the Swedish Extinction Rebellion. The text on the top stickers translates to “Rebelling for the Climate. Become a Climate Rebel!” The first part of the second sticker proved too difficult for Google Translate, so I’m not sure what it says (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 14/08/2022).
This sticker also relates to climate change, but it is more solution oriented. It translates to “Wind power? Yes thanks.” This design of a smiley face on a round yellow sticker is quite common, although the text often changes (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022).
This sticker was made by a German anti-fascist group. The text translates to ‘Antifascist Network.” Lichtenberg is a neighbourhood in Berlin. This design is playing with the logo for Paramount, a well-known American film and television company founded in 1902. (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 14/08/2022).
This sticker is advertising a European Citizens’ Initiative to ban fur farming and the sale of fur in the EU. The European Citizens’ Initiative is basically a form of petition. If 1 million citizens of at least 7 member states sign the initiative, then the European Commission has to propose a legal act. The text is in Finnish, and translates to “The time of furs is over. Sign the citizens’ initiative.” More information can be found at https://furfreeeurope.fi/ (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 16/08/2022).
This sticker was produced by Ung Vänster (Young Left), the youth wing of the Swedish labour movement. As the sticker implies, it is a feminist and socialist group (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 16/08/2022).
This sticker was also produced by Ung Vänster. The text translates to “Claim your rights! Free public transport, sports and culture. Organise yourself in Ung Vänster” (Well Google Translate thinks the first part is “Claim your steering wheel!” but after looking at the group’s website, I think rights makes more sense than steering wheel!) (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022).
I thought this was a nice defiant note to end the blog post on! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 13/08/2022).

Oslo’s Political Stickers

The Akerhus Fortress in central Oslo dates back to the 13th century. It has been a castle, a fortress, a prison, and is now home to several museums and the mausoleum of the Norwegian Royal family (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 11/08/2022).

The next stop on my Scandinavian adventure in the summer of 2022 was Oslo, the capital of Norway. Founded in around 1000 A.D., the city is now the political and economic centre of Norway, as well as one of the most expensive cities in the world. Turns out that it is also very good for political stickers!

Stickers and posters like this one were made and put up in Norwegian ports in the summer of 2022 by a group called CruiseNOTWelcome, which aims to raise awareness of the social and environmental impacts of large cruise ships. There were several huge cruise ships in Oslo whilst I was there, and I can see why some locals aren’t keen on them. Apart from anything else, the vast ships block the view of the Oslo Fjord, and the city centre was much busier when the cruise ships were docked (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).
This sticker plays with the imagery of the Godfather. The text translates to “Make The Alliance an offer they can’t refuse.” The Alliance – Alternative for Norway is a Norwegian neo-Nazi political party (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).
I really like the design of this sticker. The 1st of May, or May Day, is used around the world to commemorate the victories of workers and the labour movement. The text translates to “work under capitalism is coercion, fight for socialism!” The sticker is produced by Rød Ungdom, or Red Youth, the youth group of the Red Party. It’s 3 main principles are revolutionary socialism, feminism, and communism (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022)
The Karlsøy Festival is a co-creative and participatory festival which takes place annually on an island in northern Norway (10/08/2022).
Kvinnefronten, or the Women’s Front, is Norway’s oldest radical women’s organisation. This sticker is playing with the format of a Who Wants to be a Millionaire question, and translates as: “whose choice? the Church; the State; the tribunal [courts?]; the woman. Abortion is women’s choice; remove the courts!” Of course, “the woman” is highlighted as the correct answer (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).
Sea Punks is a German voluntary organisation that helps refugees in Europe. They are raising money to fund a ship to rescue refugees trying to reach Euope via the Mediterranean Sea (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).
This sticker is declaring the place that it is stuck in an “anti-racist neighbourhood” (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).
This sticker translates too “The whole world hates Nazis.” If only that were true! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).
This sticker is advertising an anti-Nazi protest in Fredrikstad, another city in Norway, in July 2017, which pretty much makes it an antique by sticker standards! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 11/08/2022).
This sticker is in Polish and translates to “Anti-homophobic Action.” It is not unusual for activists and campaigners to take stickers with them when they travel, or this could be a Polish activist living in Oslo. Frustrating as it often is, I can only guess at the stories and circumstances of most people who put up stickers (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 11/08/2022).
Be Gay Do Crime is a slogan used by LGBTQI+ activists that has increased in popularity over the last few years. The image of a skeleton carrying a sign with the slogan on is also quite common, although I haven’t been able to figure out why (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 10/08/2022).

Malmö’s Political Stickers

The Old Royal Post Office Building in Malmö (Photo: Hannah Awcock 08/08/2022).

Malmö is the third largest city in Sweden. Previously heavily industrialised, it struggled to adjust to post-industrialism, but it has been thriving since the completion of the Øresund Bridge, a combined railway/road bridge and tunnel that connects the southern Swedish city to Copenhagen, 16km away across the Øresund Straight. I went on a day trip to Malmö whilst staying in Copenhagen in the summer of 2022. All of the stickers featured here were found in that single day.

Extinction Rebellion was founded in the UK in 2018. Since then, it has expanded around the world. It combines internationally recognisable symbols…(Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
…with local designs and languages. This sticker translates to “Do you have climate anxiety? Do you think those in power don’t care enough? You are not alone.” (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
The text on this sticker means ‘Young Antifascist” (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
This sticker is fairly self-explanatory, but it means “Activism, Feminism, Socialism in Lund.” Lund is a city about 20km away from Malmö. The Instagram account promoted by this sticker belongs to Organising Autonomously, a revolutionary socialist organisation based in Lund (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
I’m assuming that this sticker used to have more detail, that has faded with time. The most recent series of protests in Hong Kong started in 2019, so this sticker could be relatively old (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
Team Vegan is a German company that sells ethically sourced, vegan-themed clothing and products. You can buy this design and others on t-shirts, hoodies, and stickers (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
Variations of the ‘Hello my name is…’ stickers are quite popular with graffiti artists as a quick and relatively low-risk way of tagging. Sometimes, as in this case, they are used to spread a political message (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
The Grindadrap is an annual hunt of pilot whales and dolphins in the Faroe Islands. The animals are driven into shallow bays where they are beached and killed. The hunt has come under increasing criticism from animals rights groups over the last few decades as particularly cruel and traumatic for the animals. Its defenders argue that it does not affect the population numbers of affected species, it has been made more humane recently, and it is a central part of Faroese culture (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
The text on this sticker translates to “HIV is not contagious during treatment.” The sticker was made by Positiva Gruppen Syd, a non-profit organisation based in Malmö that supports people with HIV in southern Sweden. HIV treatment has developed to the point where people with HIV cannot transmit it as long as they are receiving treatment, but there is still a lot of stigma and misinformation involved (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
I do not think I have come across a sticker celebrating demisexuality before. Demisexuality means that you do not experience sexual attraction based on immediate factors such as looks or smell, but you can experience sexual attraction based on a bond you have formed with someone once you get to know them. I assume the background of this sticker is a faded representation of the demisexual flag, which is white on the top and grey on the bottom, with a purple stripe in the middle and a black triangle on the left-hand side (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022).
I like to try and finish these posts on a positive note; this sticker reads “The world is more beautiful with you” (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 08/08/2022)

Copenhagen’s Political Stickers

Nyhavn is one of the most popular tourist spots in Copenhagen. This is an advert, not a political sticker, but the picture was too good to leave out! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 03/08/2022)

In the summer of 2022, I went on a tour of Scandinavian cities with my sister, and of course I photographed all the political stickers I could find! Our first stop was Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark. We paid a trip to the Museum of Danish Resistance, which documents resistance to the Nazi occupation of Denmark between 1940 and 1945. To say I was excited when I discovered they have a machine in their collections for printing stickers with resistance slogans is putting it mildly – I had no idea that political stickers went back that far!

I would like to apologise in advance for any dodgy translation, I did the best I could with the help of Google translate, but I’m sure there are some errors. I will correct them if they are brought to my attention.

As ever, there are stickers in Copenhagen that relate to both international and local issues. This is an antique by sticker standards (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 09/08/2022).
This sticker is also quite old – the protest advertised means it was made at some point before July 2017. The colours have faded and it has been partially covered with spray paint, which makes some of the text difficult to distinguish (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/08/2022)
Some stickers link the international and local context. This sticker is produced by Extinction Rebellion Danmark, and the text roughly translates to “Update Democracy. Citizens’ Assembly Now.” Citizens assemblies are representatives of a population randomly chosen to discuss and make recommendations on a particular issue. They have become a popular tactic for some protest movements in recent years. (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 09/08/2022).
Danish and English are not the only languages that I found on stickers in Copenhagen. This sticker, in German, reads “Liberation doesn’t stop with people! #SolidaritywithAnimals #vegan.” (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/08/2022).
Visual symbolism can be a powerful way to overcome language differences. I would recognise the black and red flags as an anti-fascist symbol even if there was no text at all (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/08/2022).
Christiania is an anarchist commune in Copenhagen that started out as a squatted military base in 1971. The residents do not accept the authority of the Danish state, and it has become a well-known source of cannabis for both locals and tourists.
Residents have pushed back however, and fought hard to keep hard drugs and violence out of the neighbourhood. In the 2000s, a deal was made to cede control of the neighbourhood to the Copenhagen City Council and in 2012, residents started to buy land, becoming landowners rather than squatters. Some people now dismiss the area as a tourist attraction that has lost all its radical credentials, but clearly not everyone feels this way. Pusher Street is the main street in Christiania, where cannabis used to be freely bought and sold. The red rectangle with three yellow circles is the flag of Christiania (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/08/2022).
Sometimes people seem to go out of their way to put stickers up in extreme or hard to reach places. I found this sticker at the top of the tower of Our Saviour’s Church, which is 90 metres tall. The text translates to “The Patriarchy doesn’t take breaks. The 8th of March is every day!” (The 8th of March is International Women’s Day) (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/08/2022).
These stickers were produced by the Popular Socialist Youth of Denmark, the youth wing of Green Left, a socialist political party. The top sticker translates to “Didn’t you pass the Danishness test either?”, whilst the lower one reads “We must build up rather than tear down” (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 07/08/2022).
Although basic, I found the image on this sticker quite effective. The text reads “We Stand Together. Refugees are Welcome. Our Culture is Diverse” (Source: Hannah Awcock, 07/08/2022).
The top line of both of these stickers reads “No to EU miliarisation.” The second sentence on the top sticker reads “Retain the defence reservation”, (defence reservation could also be translated as defence opt-out I think) whilst the second sentence on the lower sticker says “Vote no to the abolition of the defence reservation.” Denmark has several opt-outs from EU co-operation. Until recently, one of those related to the Common Security and Defense Policy. In June 2022, a referendum was held to abolish this opt-out, prompted by the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Around two-thirds of Danes voted ‘yes’, so Denmark now has the right to take part in the EU’s military operations (06/08/2022).
This is not a political sticker, but I thought I’d finish off with a little bit of positive affirmation from Christiania! (Photo: Hannah Awcock, 06/08/2022).

Edinburgh’s Political Stickers at the Festival of Social Sciences

On the 28th of October I ran an event as part of the ESRC’s annual Festival of Social Sciences. It was called Edinburgh’s Political Stickers: Creativity, Resistance, and Public Space, and it involved a sticker-making workshop. Inspired by photos of stickers taken in Edinburgh and a playlist of protest songs attendees designed their own political stickers. Everyone kept the stickers they made, but I photographed them for my sticker archive. Here, in all of their radical glory, are the results:

Dumfries’ DIY Statue

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a statue made of you? Unfortunately most people will never know, either because they are not considered worthy of a statue, or because they’re the kind of thing that tends to happen after you die. Well, if you are ever in Dumfries in southern Scotland, you can experience it for yourself with the DIY statue!

Having a great time striking a statuesque pose (Source: Graeme Awcock).

Situated near the Devorgilla Bridge over the River Nith, the DIY statue looks at first glance like a large, empty plinth. Look a little closer however, and there is a pair of shoe prints embedded in the top in front of the words ‘DIY STATUE’ and ‘DUMFRIES LOCAL HERO’ carved near the top. I was in Dumfries this summer with my parents, and when we found the DIY Statue I just had to give it a try. A man who was walking past as I did this gave me a cheer and a round of applause, which was a moment that was simultaneously lovely and highly embarrassing. The whole thing got me thinking about the nature of statues in public space, why we put them up, and how we interact with them.

The DIY statue without yours truly (Source: Hannah Awcock).
DUMFRIES LOCAL HERO is carved into the back of the plinth (Source: Hannah Awcock).

Most statues are ignored by most people most of the time. If we pass a statue frequently it tends to fade into the background, and we stop noticing it, if we ever did in the first place. There are occasions where statues become the centre of attention, however. For example, statues have played an important role in the UK’s recent ‘culture wars’, with debates raging about what do about statues of people whose legacies we are no longer proud of (rightly, I think!). Perhaps the most well-known example of this in Edinburgh is the statue of Henry Dundas on a 45m tall plinth in St Andrew Square. As Home Secretary, Dundas argued against the abolition of the slave trade. Statues like the DIY statue encourage people to interact them without commemorating highly problematic people.

Statues are a reflection of who society deems are important. As such, they also reflect society’s prejudices. One of my favourite facts about Edinburgh (not because I like it, but because it’s outrageous) is there are more statues of named animals in the city than there are of women. Recent research by Art UK has shown that just 2% of named statues in the UK represent people of colour. The DIY statue can be representative of all the people of Dumfries in a way that most conventional statues are not.

Another interesting question that the DIY statue raises is what kinds of acts make a person worthy of a statue. Most named statues are of people who did remarkable things in the fields of business, politics, sport, or culture. For example there is a large statue of Robert Burns, the famous Scottish poet who lived in the town for a while, at the top of Dumfries High Street. Decisions about who ‘deserves’ a statue are not simple, uncontested things. As controversies surrounding some statues such as the Dundas memorial in Edinburgh demonstrate, these decisions can be argued against and even reversed. The DIY statue encourages us to think about the standards we use to define a ‘local hero’. Should it only be people who are rich and famous? Why can’t we recognise people who ‘just’ contribute to the local community? After everything that’s happened the last few years, I think we all deserve to be celebrated a little bit just for existing. Thanks to the DIY statue anyone who can climb onto the plinth (it isn’t particularly accessible) can be commemorated, even temporarily.

The statue of poet Robert Burns in Dumfries town centre (Source: Hannah Awcock).

Even though they spend a lot of time being ignored by passersby and pooped on by birds, statues matter. The DIY statue may be just a fun piece of public art that encourages people to interact with public space, but I think it raises important questions about who we choose to commemorate and why. I haven’t been able to find out any information about the DIY statue, so if anyone knows when it was installed or whose idea it was, I would love to know!

Young People and Protest Exhibition at the National Justice Museum

On a recent trip south I wandered past the National Justice Museum in Nottingham and noticed that they had an exhibition on called ‘Young People and Protest’. I couldn’t resist going in to check it out, and I was pleasantly surprised. It is a small exhibition, but it does an excellent job of representing the concerns and interests of young people in an engaging and interactive way.

The Crime Gallery in the National Justice Museum contains a large mural by artist Neequay Dreph portraying important moments in the history of resistance (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

The National Justice Museum contains a Victorian courtroom, a Georgian gaol, and cells that date back to the Saxon era. You have to pay to visit these, but the museum also has some free exhibition spaces. The largest one of these, The Crime Gallery covers a broad range of themes including Protest, Riot and Terrorism. If I’m honest, this gallery was much more even-handed and critical than I thought it would be, encouraging visitors to think about what crime is, and who gets to decide what is (il)legal. This gallery contains a jukebox playing protest songs and a mural by local artist Neequay Dreph depicting local, national, and international protest events.

The Young People and Protest Exhibition features an artwork by Tim Onga, which combines designs by three young artists (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

The Young People and Protest exhibition was co-produced with thousands of young people and is designed to continue to evolve and change as more people interact with it. It doesn’t contain many historic artifacts (exceptions include button badges donated or lent to the Museum, and a bludgeon used by protesters during the 1887 Bloody Sunday demonstration in Trafalgar Square). Instead, it features objects co-produced by young people and artists, including placards, a mural, and an ever-changing wall of images from social media. This has the impact of foregrounding the opinions of young people, which is quite uncommon for a museum exhibition.

These placards were co-designed by young people during a series of workshops and designer and educator Saria Digregorio (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

The Gallery Guide is also worth checking out; it contains further information about the themes of the exhibition and highlights specific examples of recent protests that have been driven and shaped by young people, such as Black Lives Matter and the School Strike for Climate. It also hints at the huge variation of contexts for protest around the world, detailing the harsh treatment of young protesters in Tunisia, Belarus, Cuba, and Thailand. It may be becoming increasingly difficult to protest in the UK, but there are many other countries where the risks of protesting are even greater. Young people continue to accept those risks every day.

There are opportunities for visitors to interact with and respond to themes and issues raised by the exhibition, including altering newspaper headlines and answering the question ‘who has the privilege to protest?’ Sometimes these kinds of features can feel like an afterthought in museum exhibitions; either they are located right at the end of the exhibition, or the materials to take part have run out. This is not the case here – the activities are located in central spaces, and it feels like encouraging visitors to reflect on their own feelings and perspectives is a central goal.

Responses from exhibition visitors to the question ‘Who has the privilege to protest?’ (Photo: Hannah Awcock).

The Young People and Protest exhibition demonstrates what can be achieved when museums adopt creative approaches and engage with the communities they are attempting to represent. It is vibrant, engaging, and centres the voices and priorities of young people. The exhibition is open until October 2022, and I highly recommend going to check it out if you’re in the East Midlands before then.