This time, I want to talk about something that often seems small on the surface but speaks volumes: names. Universities are places of learning but also places of legacy. The names etched on our buildings, halls, and lecture theatres tell a story. Though not always the whole one.
Hey, welcome to my 2nd deep dive article of the year. If you read my first article on the history of anti-racism at our Student Union, you’ll know I have a keen interest in history and in how students shape the story going forward.
This time, I want to talk about something that often seems small on the surface but speaks volumes: names.
Universities are places of learning but also places of legacy. The names etched on our buildings, halls, and lecture theatres tell a story. Though not always the whole one.
In 2020, following the murder of George Floyd, the Black Lives Matter movement sparked a global wave of reflection and action. People began asking hard questions about who we honour in our public spaces. Statues of slave-traders have come down. Plaques have been rewritten. And in some cases, buildings have been renamed – not to erase history, but to more honestly reflect our values today.
But who really cares, right? Most of us walk past campus buildings every day without giving a second thought to the names on them. For example, the Earl Mountbatten Building. Have you ever stopped to wonder who he was?
Mountbatten was not just a British royal; He was the last British Viceroy of India – in charge when Britain rushed through the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947. That decision led to mass violence, around two million deaths, and over 15 million people being forced from their homes. Many historians argue he knew the risks and pushed ahead anyway.
He was also part of a colonial system that caused harm across the world, from South Asia to Africa to the Middle East. And yet his name remains proudly displayed on buildings, roads, and memorials – including right here on our campus.
When a name like that sits quietly on a university building, most people don’t notice. But once you know, it’s hard not to ask: is this really someone we want to honour?
Naming a building after someone is not neutral. It’s a public choice. It tells us who we’re meant to admire – and who gets left out.
Personally, I think turning a new leaf can be a powerful act. It’s a way of saying: we’re learning, we’re listening, and we’re building a future that’s more inclusive than our past.
So maybe it's time to ask: whose names are missing from our campus? Who might we want to honour next?
The Palestine society are already starting that conversation. If you want to get involved you can join their campaign group.