On activism and art vandalism
Without the notion that art is sacred iconoclasm wouldn't matter very much
In the most caricatural moments of the freedom of speech debates, the ability to offend has been held up as the criterion of free speech. The first part of this post revisits some cartoons that stirred violent reactions a few years ago. In a sense, the mirror image of deliberately provocative art is non-violent disruptive action targeting art in museums, which I discuss in the second part.
Provocative dogs
Lars Vilks was a sharply reflecting artist who elaborated his own version of institutional art theory in a series of books. In Sweden he became famous for the large outdoors driftwood installation Nimis, but it was a simple cartoon that really caught the international community's attention in 2007. At one level The Prophet Muhammad as a Roundabout Dog commented on a Swedish folk art phenomenon of anonymously deposited dog sculptures in roundabouts, but more significantly, it was a blasphemous caricature that provoked some Muslim communities, resulting in mass protests, burnings of the Swedish flag, death threats to Vilks, and assaults at his public lectures. Eventually he had to live with two body guards till his death in a car accident in 2021.
The episode with the roundabout dog drawing must be seen in the context of the twelve Muhammad caricatures published by Jyllands-Posten in 2005, also resulting in demonstrations and death threats to the cartoonist. Charlie Hebdo in France later reprinted the caricatures and added one of their own on the front page. The Charlie Hebdo staff then became the victims of deadly attacks in 2015.
A recent opinion poll presented by Fondation Jean Jaurès (a think tank devoted to "progress and democracy") in cooperation with Charlie Hebdo studied current reactions and interpretations among the French population to the front page drawing.
The caricature shows a Muhammad hiding his face in his hands, apparently crying, saying "C'est dur d'être aimé par des cons ...", with the caption "Mahomet débordé par des intégristes." With this drawing, Cabu the cartoonist intended to distinguish true Islam from islamists, or the "intégristes" referred to in the heading, whom Muhammad denounces with his "it's tough to be loved by idiots." The opinion poll first asked potential participants if they were willing to take a look at an image that might disturb them. Only nine per cent declined to look at the drawing and were therefore excluded from the study. Out of those who declined, people affiliated with some religion were slightly over-represented (13 % of Catholics and 21 % of Muslim respondents).
This somewhat self-congratulatory study then presents statistics indicating that a majority of the French population evaluates the cartoon positively and think it is intelligent, funny, worthy to include in a museum devoted to freedom of speech, while on the other hand they do not think it should be censored, and do not find it chocking or racist. However, certain groups take exception and are more likely to find it racist, and less likely to find it funny. These groups include women, those of younger age, sympathisers of the "extreme left" and La France Insoumise – and, of course, Muslims (recall that a fifth of them reclined to participate in the study). Instead of trying to find out why certain respondents find it less brilliant, the patronising attitude of the authors is: What a pity that they don't get the joke, why don't they see how clever it is?
In the aftermath of the Muhammad caricatures debates raged in newspapers between free speech absolutists and those who preferred a modicum of politeness. Vilks clearly sided with free speech absolutism, albeit from the position of an artist insisting on art's right to explore any subject matter and its obligation to provoke. My impression of Vilks, based on his books, the few videos I've seen, and testimony from people who have met him, is that of a mild-mannered, humorous, aloof personality who would not seek to provoke out of ill-will, but simply because he thinks that is the way the game of art is supposed to be played, and because a free exchange of ideas is what improves society. The real world consequences with angry mobs demonstrating against silly drawings only seemed to have amused Vilks. He would even insist that the reactions were a performance which had become a part of his project.
The case of Vilks is a good one to have in mind when artists claim provocation as their goal. Although one can almost always find someone who is provoked by any specific work of art, the core art public is usually tolerant, well aware that attempted provocations is part of the game. If you are going to make truly provocative art, the practical consideration is this: Are you prepared to live with body guards for the rest of your life, and do you expect the state to remunerate them?
However provocative the art is, there is no scandal until an audience susceptible to being provoked notices that it exists. Thus Vilks had showed his roundabout dog in an exhibition where it went unnoticed and nothing happened. Nobody really cared until a local Swedish newspaper published the drawing, and some Swedish Muslim organisations began to protest and from there it spread to the international Muslim world. Vilks knew very well what he was talking about when in one of his books he advised that media attention can be beneficial for your artist career to a certain degree, but in the end the reception among critics and fellow artists is what matters most.
Vilks' roundabout dog and other prophet caricatures can also be put into the broader geopolitical context of post 9/11 islamophobia and the way Muslims have been the underdogs (no pun intended) in the West. As a thought experiment, one may imagine the reactions had these caricatures made fun of the Jewish faith. An exhibition about cancel culture, which I saw right before Christmas, might give an indication. A printout on a wall provided a long list of artists, intellectuals, activists, and various events in Germany that had been recently cancelled due to their solidarity with Palestinians or objections against Israel's genocide. The artist Candice Breitz, herself Jewish, got an exhibition cancelled after speaking out about the violence in Gaza, although she had also condemned Hamas for their actions and for holding their own population hostage.
These cancellations, along with arrests of peaceful protestors, are hard to reconcile with any notion of a democratic state upholding freedom of speech as one of its core values, not to mention the fickle autonomy of certain art institutions as they come under pressure. Breitz compares the prevalent suspicion of anti-Semitism in Germany with a kind of McCarthyism.
Clearly there is an historical explanation for the unwavering German support of Israel, without which the repression of Palestine supporters would be inconceivable. But there may also be other causes of tension. Laying out these ideas more convincingly would require a longer essay, but let me just briefly mention one crucial event and relate it to the broader geopolitical picture.
The sabotage of the Nordstream pipeline has had a devastating effect on the German economy, because the economy is driven not so much by inventiveness as by energy input. And a faltering economy is conducive to finding scapegoats to blame. This time around, scapegoats are found among those with too much empathy for Palestinians, among peace activists in general, or anyone who challenges the status quo, and why not also immigrants, artists, and all the other usual suspects. Political analysts such as Alexander Mercouris have repeatedly pointed out the humiliating moment when Olaf Scholtz shared podium with Joe Biden, just before the Russian invasion of Ukraine, where Biden clearly states that if Russia invades there will be no pipeline, "we will put an end to it." And so they did, after which USA generously offered their liquid natural gas to Germany at the opposite of a discount. No wonder, then, if there is discontent among some discerning German citizens who are able to seek out information for themselves. In a political climate of mistrust of the ruling politicians, who moreover are perceived to be weak, censorship and repression lies ready at hand. It may sound tenuous to claim a direct connection between the German economy and the current repressive climate, and I will not insist that it is the most important factor.
Speaking of gas pipelines, I'm not making the case that economic growth is desirable in itself, except for limited periods in places that need to be lifted out of poverty. Nor am I arguing that natural gas is preferable to renewable energy, which is not always as renewable as the marketing would have it, by the way. In the energy transition away from fossil fuels which has just begun, it appears inevitable that most peoples' living standards will decrease. Politicians with the integrity to admit such correspondences, if they even understand them, will not attract many votes.
The geopolitical power balance is shifting. New member states are admitted to BRICS, which is beginning to overtake the Western aligned nations economically. This might also contribute to a climate of insecurity among the ruling strata of the West, which could lead to increasing censorship and repression as one of its consequences. The shutting down of Russian media networks RT and Sputnik in the US and most of Europe and the hijacking of Iranian presstv.com's internet domain a few years ago exemplify this intolerance of contradicting views. It becomes imperative to control the narrative, which is no longer done by having the better argument in a dialogue, but by shutting up the opponent. We will no doubt be warned to watch out for insidious Chinese propaganda over the coming years, just as it used to be with the Russian variety. Never mind if the propaganda happens to be true.
If artists are more or less expected to provoke, the other side of the coin is the public's reactions, which may turn violent when they allow themselves to be provoked. Because of the importance and value attributed to art, disruptions and vandalism have been used to attract attention, preferably by attacking esteemed, highly valued works of art.
Art vandalism and activism
Anne Bessette has collected a substantial list of cases of art vandalism since 1970 in a book which was published just before some spectacular activist interventions began to take place in museums, which I will return to below. Classical art as well as modernist and contemporary art has been targeted, each by its typical group of perpetrators. Classical works have been attacked mostly by people suffering from mental illness. Usually the deed has appeared so shocking that mental illness has remained the only plausible and acceptable explanation anyway. Modernist art has often been vandalised because the perpetrator found it ugly, or did not accept it as a valid expression of art at all. The case of contemporary art vandalism is particularly interesting, because there are so many examples of (self-proclaimed) artists among the perpetrators, who regard their actions as a commentary or improvement of the vandalised work, if not going so far as proclaiming the modified work as their own. As Bessette demonstrates through a few case studies, what matters is the status of the artist whose work has been vandalised and the status of the perpetrator as an artist. At one end of the spectrum there is appropriation, where a renowned artist such as Asger Jorn has found some cheap kitsch painting by a third rate painter on a market and painted over it, letting traces of the original shine through or merely adding a slight touch to it. At the opposite end, a famous and respected artist is vandalised by someone who claims to be an artist but might not be taken very seriously by the art world. One such case is Duchamp's Fountain, which happens to be the most frequently assaulted (compissé, if you pardon my French) work in Bessette's study. In this regard it may help that Duchamp made an edition of Fountains nowadays displayed in various museums, the original having been lost. About the least original intervention one could think of is to use the Fountain for its original purpose. Pierre Pinoncelli also dealt it a blow with a hammer and was sentenced to pay reparations despite his attempts to convince the jury that he had tried to revive the Fountain's dadaist spirit and that Duchamp himself would have approved.
Dario Gamboni wrote another book on iconoclasm which I must have read in the late 90's and would still recommend based on my vague recollections. The topic is bristling with curious anecdotes, such as one of Joseph Beuys' Fettecke, a lump of fat in the corner by the ceiling, which accidentally got cleaned away because it probably didn't resemble art in the eyes of the unsuspecting cleaning personnel.
For museums, it is in their interest to minimise publicity around art vandalism in order to maintain the trust of collectors and other institutions that lend them works, but it usually does attract attention in the media. Therefore activists have used vandalism as a strategy to draw attention to their cause. Bessette describes a few cases of individuals carrying out such acts, but the organised form of non-violent disruptive interventions by activist groups appears to have emerged only in 2022, the year after her book was published. One study counts 38 such incidents in 2022 carried out by various organisations such as Extinction Rebellion, Letzte Generation, Just Stop Oil, and Ultima Generazione. Some of them seem to have taken caution not to damage the art itself, only attacking works behind glass, although there have been exceptions. In a collective statement by several museum directors, they point out that these activists ”severely underestimate the fragility of these irreplaceable objects.” In a protest against Israel's genocide in Gaza other activists pasted a photo of a mother and child in Gaza over a Picasso painting showing a similar motive.
Just Stop Oil and Youth Demand have tried to bring attention to the climate crisis by filming their interventions in museums leading to prompt reactions by the security personnel. In an open letter to the UK National Museum Director's Council, they write:
These actions cause small amounts of damage and disruption in order to bring to attention the enormous damage and destruction that our government is supporting. (...)
People disrupt museum and gallery spaces to break the illusion that everything is fine. We need institutions to confront their responsibilities at this time – head on. (...)
Britain is failing every climate target, so much that the Government’s Net Zero plan was ruled unlawful in the High Court. Scientists are unable to communicate this successfully. The arts are unsuccessful in refuting climate denial. Politics has failed us. Resistance is our only remaining option.
There is a rich history of protest in public gallery spaces. We are proud to be part of that heritage – from the Suffragettes who slashed pictures in the National Gallery to anti-Sackler protests at the Guggenheim Museum in New York. Will you use your immense power to safeguard your collections and the public who enjoy them?
The reactions to direct action involving real or symbolic damage to artworks have often been mildly sceptical, at best. Unfortunately, there is no evidence that direct action in museums have led to desired policy changes. If the goal was simply to stir up media attention it has been a success, but merely talking and writing about climate change does not reduce CO2 emissions. There is, however, an hypothesis called the ”radical flank effect” which holds that radical action makes mainstream groups and tactics look more reasonable, thus increasing their support. A more likely outcome is a backlash in the form of tightened security checks at museums, requiring visitors to hand over ever more of their belongings and making the experience over all less pleasant.
Direct action is a more desperate form of protest when peaceful means prove ineffective. Palestine Action in the UK has been able to temporarily shut down Elbit System's factory outside of Bristol, which is the largest provider of military equipment for the Israeli Defence Forces. Their action involved climbing on top of the building and pouring red paint, causing structural damage and halting the factory's operations for weeks.
Exporting weapons to a state which has been found by international courts to commit genocide is not exactly good for the exporting nation's image, and hardly reconcilable with international or domestic law. This is why organisations like Palestine Action have had some success so far. In contrast to climate activists in museums they have targeted the source of the problem itself, whereas activists in museum spaces have attacked an institution which is not directly responsible for climate change.
However, the more successful direct action gets, the more repressive counter-measures can be expected. Some activists from Palestine Action have been arrested and will be held in prison for over a year before going on trial. There is always a temptation in this type of case to slap on the terrorist label and seek the longest possible sentences.
References and further reading
Bessette, A. (2021). Du vandalism d'œuvres d'art. Destructions, dégradations et interventions dans les musées en Europe et en Amérique du Nord depuis 1970. L'Harmattan.
Gamboni, D. (1997). The Destruction of Art: Iconoclasm and Vandalism since the French Revolution. Yale University Press.
Kazkaz, L., & Bosch, M. D. (2023). Islamic Caricature Controversy from Jyllands-Posten to Charlie Hebdo from the Perspective of Arab Opinion Leaders. Religions, 14(7), 864.
Kinyon, L., Dolšak, N. & Prakash, A. (2023). When, where, and which climate activists have vandalized museums. npj Clim. Action 2, 27 (2023).