Would the Rhodes Scholars of 20 years ago challenge the Rhodes Statue in Oxford?

The statue of Cecil Rhodes on the High Street façade of the Rhodes Building in Oriel College, Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

Patrick Comerford

Twenty years ago, immediately after leaving the staff of The Irish Times, I was invited to co-chair one of the workshops at the Halki International Seminar organised by the Athens-based think-tank Eliamep on the island of Halki off the coast of Rhodes.

The Hellenic Foundation for European and Foreign Policy is an independent, non-governmental, non-profit think-tank, established in 1988.

The participants in the Halki programme in September 2002 included academics, journalists, politicians and policy makers, and we were hosted in a charming small hotel on the small island 10 km off the west coast of Rhodes.

During a free afternoon in the programme, I volunteered to take a small, select but mixed international group to Rhodes for a walking tour of the old town, to visit the surviving mosques and synagogue, to meet some business owners and shopkeepers of Turkish descent.

It was an exercise in ‘political ecumenism’ and a celebration of cultural diversity. At the time I felt I knew Rhodes well, having spent time there both working as a journalist and on family holidays.

For the rest of the seminar on Halki, the participants in that afternoon ‘field trip’ joked about ourselves as the ‘Rhodes Scholars’ among Eliamep’s students and panellists.

Walking around Oxford this month, I wondered, 20 years to the date, whether any of us would be happy referring to ourselves today as ‘Rhodes Scholars.’

For some years now, the statue of Cecil Rhodes statue overlooking the High Street in Oxford has been the subject of a number of protests, with calls for its removal. It has become a focus for public debate on racism and the legacy of colonialism.

Oriel College has placed a small notice below his statue on the Rhodes Building, explaining that his statue is controversial and that the college is addressing this.

The Rhodes Building in Oriel College, Oxford, was funded by a legacy from Cecil Rhodes (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

Cecil John Rhodes (1853-1902) was a student at Oriel College intermittently between 1873 and 1881. When he died, he left most of his estate to establish the Rhodes Trust to fund scholarships for the Rhodes Scholars – students from Germany, the US, and the then British colonies.

He left £100,000 to Oriel College, of which £40,000 was designated for building a new building to replace houses along the High Street side of the college. The New Building, as it was initially known, was built in 1909-1911. Its design incorporated a set of statues commissioned from Henry Alfred Pegram, which included one of Cecil Rhodes.

However, Rhodes’s activities made him controversial as a benefactor. He arrived in southern Africa in 1871 at the age of 17 and was based there for the rest of his life. He quickly made himself a fortune through diamond mining; and he went on to establish himself politically, entering the Cape Parliament in 1881 and becoming Prime Minster of the Cape Colony in 1890.

The conduct of these activities and their impact on black Africans have attracted much criticism, both at the time and since.

The Rhodes Building forms the north range of Saint Mary’s (or ‘the Third’) Quadrangle at Oriel College. It was built to house undergraduates and Fellows of the college. It was built in 1909-1911 to the designs of Basil Champneys (1842-1935) in a bold Jacobethan style.

The Rhodes Building fills the whole stretch of the High between Magpie Lane and Oriel Street, and seven houses had to be demolished to make room for it.

The new building was not universally regarded as an enhancement to the street. In his memoirs in 1927, WE Sherwood wrote that Oriel had ‘broken out into the High, … destroying a most picturesque group of old houses in so doing, and, to put it gently, hardly compensating us for their removal.’

James Morris wrote in Oxford (1965): ‘If you are very old indeed, you are probably still fuming about the façade built in the High Street by Oriel College in 1909, which most of us scarcely notice nowadays, but used to be thought an absolute outrage.’

In all, there are seven life-size statues including Rhodes on the building, all sculpted in Portland stone by Henry Alfred Pegram. King Edward VII and King George V were chosen because one had died and the other had come to the throne in the year the building was being erected. The other four are former heads of the college: Cardinal William Allen (1532-1594), Walter Hart or Lyhert (Provost, 1435-1446), John Hales (Provost, 1446-1449) and Henry Sampson (Provost, 1449-1476).

The Rhodes Building remains largely unaltered, except for modifications to the south-east wing in 1981, and today it provides both student and office accommodation.

The campaign to remove the statue of Rhodes was taken up again by ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ in June 2020, in conjunction with Black Lives Matter (BLM), following the death of George Floyd in the US.

The Governing Body of Oriel College voted on 17 June 2020 to launch an independent Commission of Inquiry into the key issues surrounding both the Rhodes statue and a plaque on King Edward Street and to appoint the Master of St Cross College, Carole Souter, as the Chair for the Commission. In May 2021 that commission recommended the removal of the statue.

Meanwhile, a notice below Pegram’s statue of Rhodes declares:

‘This building was constructed by Oriel College in 1910-11 with money left in the will of Cecil John Rhodes (1853-1902), a former student of the college. The college commissioned a series of statues to front the building which includes Rhodes at the top.

‘Rhodes, a committed British colonialist, obtained his fortune through the exploitation of minerals, lands, and peoples of southern Africa. Some of his activities led to great loss of life and attracted criticism in his day and ever since.

‘In recent years, the statue has become a focus for public debate on racism and the legacy of colonialism. In June 2020, Oriel College declared its wish to remove the statue but is not doing so following legal and regulatory advice.’

Oriel College explains its position on the statue of Cecil Rhodes (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

Sanguine Greeks see historic drachma make way for upstart euro

Patrick Comerford

As the Greek financial crisis within the Eurozone continues after last Sunday’s referendum and the appointment of a new Greek Finance Minister, and yet another deadline arrives today [7 July 2015], I came across this half-page feature in my cuttings. It was my last contribution to the ‘The Irish Times’ as a staff journalist 13 years ago, on 26 July 2002.

Sanguine Greeks see
historic drachma make
way for upstart euro

Greek banknotes which, together with coins, have been used by generations of Greek parents to teach their children about their classical, cultural and historical heritage. The drachma is Europe’s oldest currency but five months ago the euro became the only legal currency in Greece

Despite being the oldest currency in Europe, dating from the sixth century BC, the drachma has been supplanted by the newest kid on the block, and has been surprisingly well received

Patrick Comerford
In Greece

Greeks proudly claim the drachma was Europe’s oldest currency, but five months after the euro became the only legal currency in Greece, few seem to regret its demise. Greeks have adapted rapidly to the changeover since the drachma was finally abolished on March 1st. “It’s easier, there are much fewer zeros involved,” one businessman told me last week.

The drachma was often a difficult currency for tourists. Apart from the high number of zeros involved in calculations, in financially volatile periods, visitors could see a 20 per cent swing up or down in the value of their home currency against the drachma during an average trip.

Now, after a determined struggle by the Greek government to stabilise the economy and become a full – if late – member of the euro zone, Greek euro-yearnings have been fulfilled.

As the oldest currency in Europe, the drachma first appeared in the sixth century BC and was quickly adopted by the city states throughout the ancient Greek world. The Greeks named their unit of currency from the word drássomai, “to grip”, or “to take a handful”, and a drachma was originally worth a handful of arrows or a handful of grain.

The drachma is mentioned in the Bible in both the Old Testament and the New Testament.

Despite Roman efforts to take it out of circulation, the drachma continued as one of the major coinages of the ancient world and remained in circulation until Ottoman times.

With Greek independence in the 19th century, the drachma returned after a lengthy eclipse, and was restored as the official national currency in 1833.

But, at first, Greeks showed no confidence in the new currency: Turkish, Spanish and British notes and coins – even the currencies of defunct Italian city states – were more trusted, circulated widely, and began to supplant the drachma.

Two moves saved the currency: a 60 million drachma foreign loan bolstered the state’s finances, and the National Bank of Greece was established in 1841 and put the first banknotes into circulation.

Successive efforts to shore up the drachma ended with the outbreak of the second World War and hyperinflation.

The drachma lost its value completely, and within 11 months the government released banknotes of 100,000, five million, 200 million, two billion, even 100 billion drachmas in a vain attempt to catch up with runaway prices.

At the height of the crisis in late 1945, one British sovereign was worth around 70 trillion drachmas.

The country’s real currency was sterling, and memories of that period have never faded – to this day, Greeks, especially in the islands and villages, dream of finding that “trunk full of sovereigns”.

The drachma was often a difficult currency for tourists... and in volatile times visitors could see a 20% swing up or down in value of their home currency.

The 2,500-year-old Parthenon atop Athens’s ancient Acropolis

Generations of Greek parents have used the drachma as a visual aid to teach their children about their classical, cultural and historical heritage: bankruptcies, wars and violent swings of government between monarchy and republic have given most heroes of Greek mythology and modern history a chance to appear on coins and banknotes.

Until earlier this year, the lowest coin in circulation was 10 drachmas, which featured Demokritos, while Homer was on the 50 drachma coin and Alexander and the Star of Vergina graced the 100 drachma coin.

Banknotes included mythical gods such as Poseidon (50), Athena (100) and Apollo (1,000); cultural figures such as Rigas Velestinlis-Pherios (200), along with the Monastery at Arkadia (500), the site of ancient Olympia (1,000); and the heroes of the independence struggle, including the seafarers (50), Korais (100), Kapodistrias (500) and Kolokotronis (5,000).

Some of the heroes of the past survive on the new Greek euro coins, and the one euro coin replicates the Attic drachma with the owl, emblem of Athena, surrounded by a crown of laurels.

The cent coins have also been given the Greek name “lepta”, recalling the sub-division of the drachma that hyper-inflation had forced from circulation many years ago.

Greek financial institutions will continue exchanging drachmas for euros until the end of this month, and commercial banks will still exchange drachmas until the end of the year.

And, if they have not become collectors’ items by then, the Bank of Greece will accept the old coins and notes until 2010.

This half-page feature was first published in the ‘Business This Week Supplement’ in ‘The Irish Times’ on 26 July 2002. It was my last feature as an a staff journalist with ‘The Irish Times’

Sanguine Greeks see historic drachma make way for upstart euro

Greek banknotes which, together with coins, have been used by generations of Greek parents to teach their children about their classical, cultural and historical heritage. The drachma is Europe’s oldest currency but five months ago the euro became the only legal currency in Greece

Despite being the oldest currency in Europe, dating from the sixth century BC, the drachma has been supplanted by the newest kid on the block, and has been surprisingly well received

Patrick Comerford
In Greece

Greeks proudly claim the drachma was Europe’s oldest currency, but five months after the euro became the only legal currency in Greece, few seem to regret its demise. Greeks have adapted rapidly to the changeover since the drachma was finally abolished on March 1st. “It’s easier, there are much fewer zeros involved,” one businessman told me last week.

The drachma was often a difficult currency for tourists. Apart from the high number of zeros involved in calculations, in financially volatile periods, visitors could see a 20 per cent swing up or down in the value of their home currency against the drachma during an average trip.

Now, after a determined struggle by the Greek government to stabilise the economy and become a full – if late – member of the euro zone, Greek euro-yearnings have been fulfilled.

As the oldest currency in Europe, the drachma first appeared in the sixth century BC and was quickly adopted by the city states throughout the ancient Greek world. The Greeks named their unit of currency from the word drássomai, “to grip”, or “to take a handful”, and a drachma was originally worth a handful of arrows or a handful of grain.

The drachma is mentioned in the Bible in both the Old Testament and the New Testament.

Despite Roman efforts to take it out of circulation, the drachma continued as one of the major coinages of the ancient world and remained in circulation until Ottoman times.

With Greek independence in the 19th century, the drachma returned after a lengthy eclipse, and was restored as the official national currency in 1833.

But, at first, Greeks showed no confidence in the new currency: Turkish, Spanish and British notes and coins – even the currencies of defunct Italian city states – were more trusted, circulated widely, and began to supplant the drachma.

Two moves saved the currency: a 60 million drachma foreign loan bolstered the state’s finances, and the National Bank of Greece was established in 1841 and put the first banknotes into circulation.

Successive efforts to shore up the drachma ended with the outbreak of the second World War and hyperinflation.

The drachma lost its value completely, and within 11 months the government released banknotes of 100,000, five million, 200 million, two billion, even 100 billion drachmas in a vain attempt to catch up with runaway prices.

At the height of the crisis in late 1945, one British sovereign was worth around 70 trillion drachmas.

The country’s real currency was sterling, and memories of that period have never faded – to this day, Greeks, especially in the islands and villages, dream of finding that “trunk full of sovereigns”.

The drachma was often a difficult currency for tourists... and in volatile times visitors could see a 20% swing up or down in value of their home currency.

The 2,500-year-old Parthenon atop Athens’s ancient Acropolis

Generations of Greek parents have used the drachma as a visual aid to teach their children about their classical, cultural and historical heritage: bankruptcies, wars and violent swings of government between monarchy and republic have given most heroes of Greek mythology and modern history a chance to appear on coins and banknotes.

Until earlier this year, the lowest coin in circulation was 10 drachmas, which featured Demokritos, while Homer was on the 50 drachma coin and Alexander and the Star of Vergina graced the 100 drachma coin.

Banknotes included mythical gods such as Poseidon (50), Athena (100) and Apollo (1,000); cultural figures such as Rigas Velestinlis-Pherios (200), along with the Monastery at Arkadia (500), the site of ancient Olympia (1,000); and the heroes of the independence struggle, including the seafarers (50), Korais (100), Kapodistrias (500) and Kolokotronis (5,000).

Some of the heroes of the past survive on the new Greek euro coins, and the one euro coin replicates the Attic drachma with the owl, emblem of Athena, surrounded by a crown of laurels.

The cent coins have also been given the Greek name “lepta”, recalling the sub-division of the drachma that hyper-inflation had forced from circulation many years ago.

Greek financial institutions will continue exchanging drachmas for euros until the end of this month, and commercial banks will still exchange drachmas until the end of the year.

And, if they have not become collectors’ items by then, the Bank of Greece will accept the old coins and notes until 2010.

This half-page feature was first published in the ‘Business This Week Supplement’ in ‘The Irish Times’ on 26 July 2002. It was my last feature as an a staff journalist with ‘The Irish Times’

Funeral procession marks ‘Great Friday’

Solemnity, bonfires and dancing are all part of the Eastern Orthodox Easter, writes Patrick Comerford

For the Eastern Orthodox world, Easter -- the most important religious holiday -- is still five weeks away. The week leading up to Easter is full of celebrations in Greece and Cyprus, and in the villages of Crete the preparations begin on Lazarus Saturday, the day before Palm Sunday, when children wander the streets singing Easter songs.

Early on Holy Thursday, Greek women traditionally make special Easter breads while the children dye and paint eggs red – a tradition that has still not given way to commercial competition from chocolate eggs. Later in the day, bonfires are lit in church courtyards, representing the fire in the courtyard of Caiaphas during Christ’s trial.

Good Friday – or “Great Friday”, as it is known in the Greek Orthodox world – is a solemn, sombre day. In every church, women set up a funeral bier for the cloth bearing the image of Christ’s body, the Epitaphios. Throughout the afternoon, people go from church to church, viewing the biers strewn with rose petals and praying and kissing the crucified image.

The main Great Friday liturgy takes place in the evening. When I visited the Phaneromeni Church in central Nicosia, after the singing of the great Good Friday hymn, the Axion Esti, soldiers and scouts carefully carried the bier shoulder-high into the square outside. The bishop led a procession through streets bordering the Green Line that divides the Cypriot capital.

In every town and village, as this procession makes its way through fashionable shopping streets or narrow alleyways, people stop for prayer, ending each time with the refrain “Kyrie, kyrie eleison” (Lord have mercy, O Lord) .

As part of the pious Greek custom, people cross themselves as they push under the moving bier: mothers force through small children in buggies, young couples clasp hands as they stoop, soldiers carrying the bier photograph one another as they bow and bob below it.

Throughout Friday night and Saturday morning, women keep vigil in the churches, but by Saturday night, the streets are decorated with garish lights wishing everyone “Kalo Pascha” (happy Easter), and large bonfires are burning in each church courtyard.

Long before midnight, the churches are packed with people standing shoulder-to-shoulder, on each other’s toes, and pulpit steps are layered with children anxious for a view across the adult heads. As midnight approaches, the lights are dimmed and then extinguished, leaving the church in complete darkness. And then the shout goes out: “Avto to fos …” (This is the Light of the World). Flames flicker from the three candles held by the priest before a torrent of candlelight spreads rapidly through the congregation with the joyful acclamation: “Christos anesti" (Christ is Risen).

As the priest pushes his way through the church to bring the Light of Christ into the darkness of the world, the throng follows, moving in a procession around the church as some of the more valiant young men will leap over the bonfire on which an effigy of Judas has just been burned to the peal of the bells.

As people drift away, they take their candles, hoping to keep the flame flickering until they reach home, each family using the candle to mark a black sooty cross on the lintel of the door. The Lenten fast is broken with an early meal of mayiritsa, a soup made with lamb tripe, rice and lemon.

Easter Day is a day for families, as adults and children return to the villages of parents and grandparents. The rest of the lamb is roasted on the spit, the red eggs are cracked, and the songs and dances carry on into the evening.

And until Ascension Thursday, the traditional greeting and response are “Christos anesti” (Christ is risen), “Alithos anesti” (He is truly risen).

• Greek Easter Day this year falls on May 5th.
• Rev Patrick Comerford is an Irish Times journalist and an Anglican priest

This feature was first published in ‘The Irish Times’ on Friday 29 March 2002