The Honeybees and the Lions

The lockdown has freed up time — in theory. I can avoid most commutes, socializing and traveling. But there is constant background static keeping my mind buzzing and distracted.

What has helped quiet the static is a short vacation. My fiancé and I had the fortune to safely visit a beautiful European-style city without leaving the country.

Like any big city, there were statues of privileged white men — warriors, colonizers, politicians. But there were also a few statues honoring the ignored, like women, minorities and children. One monument celebrated the women who fought for the right to vote. Another was a sculpture of an unknown woman tenderly kissing her child. These are like homages to honeybees — glorifying the humble, silent and poor — instead of lions. It is a symbol of refusing to ignore the oppressed.

This contrasts with what I saw on a pre-pandemic trip to Lisbon. One of Lisbon’s public squares has an imposing statute of the Marquis of Pombal, a Portuguese diplomat from the 16th century. His statue is flanked by a lion, an apt metaphor. Reading up on the history of the Marquis, it is not an exaggeration to describe him as a violent brute. He was responsible for a reign of terror against the Jesuit population in Portugal and exacted terrible revenge against an aristocratic family accused of an assassination plot. Even if he was a good diplomat, his violence overshadows his feats.

Just as many Soviet satellite states have replaced statues of Lenin and Stalin with those more deserving, I hope one day we replace the lions with the honeybees. Instead of honoring violence and conquest, we should honor the contributions of the essential but forgotten — women, minorities, children. Because “[i]t means a great deal to those who are oppressed to know that they are not alone” (Desmond Tutu).