Written by Japheth Monzon, BSWN Project Officer
It has become a storied tradition–nay, arguably an expectation–to think of the Law in the abstract. Certainly, for a majority of us, the Law is an intangible force that permeates every aspect of our lives. The ubiquitous nature of the Law allows it to hide in plain sight, imperceptible to those law-abiding citizens. Fathers of jurisprudence such as Immanuel Kant and John Rawls propose that the principles of law should be cleansed of emotion, whether imposed by the natural order or for the overall advancement of humanity (Hoffman 2011). But, this has dangerous implications – particularly to those not viewed as ‘law-abiding’. In fact, the abstraction of the Law also seeks to turn certain groups of people (those not deemed ‘law-abiding’ by the dominant classes) into abstractions themselves – willingly closing its eyes to the humanity of these people (Bhandar 2014). Certainly, there are multitudes of case law that demonstrate this legal function (see Dredd Scott). But as Brenna Bhandar so astutely presents: it is the case of Gregson v Gilbert that epitomises the dangers of Law in the abstract.
‘The Meaning of Zong’, a stageplay by Olivier Award winner Giles Terera (of the West End’s Hamilton), intends to humanise the concept of justice in a time where we forget that laws impact the lives of the people subject to them. The play details the struggle of Olaudah Equiano–a trailblazing abolitionist–to seek justice for the 132 lost lives that were thrown overboard for the sake of ‘survival’. This case, Gregson v Gilbert, is the elementary focus of The Meaning of Zong. Primarily, the case was heard by Lord Mansfield on economic grounds – the financial insurance fraud on the part of the ship’s crew. But, if one looks behind this facade, one uncovers an insidious factual background concerning the senseless murder of 132 enslaved people. Together with Granville Sharp and Ottobah Cugoano, Equiano takes the audience through a journey of self-realisation, self-emancipation, and collective grief. Yet, this journey isn’t exclusive to the characters portrayed in the play. Indeed, the power of The Meaning of Zong is in its ability to transmute the collective grief and rage of the people in Equiano's time and translate it into something palpable to the contemporary audience. This palpable grief–this mourning that spans centuries–is important. Too often have the people of the United Kingdom been subject to collective amnesia, gaslighting on a grand scale, that has led us to forget that the very laws we revere were built on the suffering of racialised bodies. The UnMuseum Project, part of the Black South West Network’s Cultural Heritage Programme, intends to ensure that such a thing does not happen again–recording The Meaning of Zong for community archiving in an effort to remind the people of the United Kingdom of the tragedy of Zong.
“The Meaning of Zong is a timeless piece. Its recording ensures that it can be viewed by an audience fifty years into the future.”
The Meaning of Zong
For such an enthralling re-telling of a historical event, the Bristol Old Vic’s Theatre Royal is an apt venue. The Theatre Royal, considered “the most beautiful theatre in England” by Sir Daniel Day-Lewis, is the oldest continuously-running theatre in the English-speaking world, which would have made it fifteen years old at the time that Lord Mansfield proclaimed the decision on Gregson v Gilbert in 1781. Certainly, Bristol and its well-evidenced history as a central port for the Transatlantic slave trade make the message of The Meaning of Zong more pertinent to contemporary discourse.
Certainly, the contextual background of the city of Bristol made The Meaning of Zong that much more poignant in its implications for race relations today. Giles Terera’s powerful performance as Olaudah Equiano left many an audience member speechless in the pain, rage, and hopefulness held by the racialised and forcibly displaced peoples of that time. Terera skilfully portrayed–and wrote–the narrative journey of Equiano in a manner seldom seen by historical retellings. We often forget that important historical figures are human, just like us. But Terera is an exception. Equiano was not infallible; Equiano faced inner turmoil in regard to his own identity, his own history, and his own journey to self-emancipation. To the audience, at least to this audience member, the humanity of Equiano was palpable. Indeed, his masterful performance has been recognised by theatre critics nationwide, with Terera rightfully claiming Best Performance in a Play for the Bristol Old Vic’s production of The Meaning of Zong, along with other rising stars in theatrical performance such as drag performer and queer activist Divina de Campo winning Best Performance for a Musical for their stellar performance in Hedwig and the Angry Inch.
But commendations and accolades are also deserved by Terera’s fellow cast and crew members for their superb performances. The innovative stage layout, making use of space and the suspension of belief, propelled Kiera Lester, Bethan Mary-James, and Alice Vilanculo from actors on a stage to three women standing in sisterly solidarity against the horrors of the Transatlantic slave trade. Through their nuanced portrayals, Ama, Joyi, and Reba became real people – and indeed, their stories, although fictionalised, may truly mirror the experience of those on the Zong on that fateful voyage – reminding the audience that they were mothers, daughters, and friends before their forceful dehumanisation. Michael Elcock and Paul Higgins (as Ottobah Cugoano and Granville Sharp, respectively) elevated The Meaning of the Zong with their electrifying performances, acting as balances to the conflict playing out in Equiano’s mind. Certainly, they were no foils to Equiano’s character, but necessary composites that aided in Equiano’s journey to becoming the seminal abolitionist he inevitably is known to be.
The Meaning of Zong’s impact on the audience cannot be understated. It is an inevitability that strong emotions would arise when it comes to stories as hard-hitting as the Zong. Indeed, many audience members required time to re-compose themselves during the intermission. Certainly, this author wept for the trials and tribulations expounded by the characters. From that point on, the abstract Gregson v Gilbert became humanised, a tangible and real narrative of the massacre aboard the Zong. These individuals – or those on which this story was based – were real and stood on the same British soil as we do now. Considering this, it would be just to state that Terera’s objective in creating The Meaning of Zong, drawing out the human in historical records, was more than successful in its enterprise.
The Meaning of Zong is a “story of our time, celebrating the power of the human spirit against adversity, and the journey of our past to understand our place in the world.” (Bristol Old Vic) In truth, the struggle for racial justice continues; Staple Inn barrister Miranda Grell, Desmond Brown (Growing Futures), and Kunle Olulode (Voice4Change England) expertly discussed the current obstacles faced by those fighting for racial justice in the United Kingdom. They were astute in noting that the fight for racial justice takes a two-fold approach. Firstly, activists must realise that the issues faced by Black and racialised individuals in the United Kingdom are starkly different to the experiences of those operating within the context of the United States. They urge us to further educate ourselves on the history of racial injustice unique to the United Kingdom, for with further understanding comes greater power. The United Kingdom has a rich history of activism against the looming tide of racial injustice–Bristol itself now becoming known for a strong activist tradition. On the flip side, the United Kingdom also has a sordid history of complicity in the transatlantic slave trade and racial injustice in general. By equipping ourselves with the knowledge of British colonial enslavement, we can better understand what strategies we can employ to ensure that the downtrodden are given the voice they rightly deserve.
Image taken from panel discussion, left to right Kunle Olulode, Miranda Grell, Desmond Brown , and Rob Mitchell.
Desmond Brown further notes that work must be done within schools to prevent the proliferation of racist beliefs amongst the easily influenced population of school children. Schools are a location for primary socialisation, whereby children learn the norms and values of society. By partaking in educational activism (such as becoming a trustee), not only can activists begin to deconstruct the racially-biased infrastructure of British education, but they can also begin shaping the minds of children, teachers, and guardians into becoming active objectors to racial injustice. Miranda Grell astutely explains the second strand of racial activism: taking a global stance towards liberation. Indeed, the history of enslavement and racism prevalent in Latin America (particularly Brazil, whereby Brazil has the largest population of Black people outside of the continent of Africa (Mileno 2018) is seldom studied by those advocating against racial injustice in the United Kingdom. Grell states that the power of movements is strengthened if we take a unified and global approach to combating racial injustice.
The Screening of The Meaning of Zong is certainly a night to remember for many who have attended. Lessons were learned, perhaps not just intellectual lessons, but lessons of the heart. We have learned of the value of empathy for people in the face of a system that does not recognise them for who they are. Indeed, the true meaning of the ‘Zong’ lies in its crude mistranslation – a mistranslation of the Dutch word ‘Zorg’ which means ‘care’. We must learn to care for each other and to speak up for those who are willingly left unheard. Yes, the road may be long, but together we may finally know the meaning of zong.