The very first time I saw a statue toppled was in April of 2003 and I saw it on television. It was an inauspicious day, I believe, because nothing was remarkable about it except perhaps for the unforgettable sight of a larger-than-life effigy of Saddam Hussein suspended at an awkward angle above Firdos Square in Baghdad, Iraq. What impressed me more than anything during the ensuing broadcast was that the determination of the Iraqis to dismantle was equally matched by the determination of the statue which, to me, appeared to resist being taken down. It was a battle of wills (or craftsmanship) - man against his own monument. The Iraqis were dogged in their endeavour, this was the end of a political era for them, and were rewarded for their sustained efforts when the lifeless likeness of Saddam Hussein was removed from its imposing pedestal and relegated to history. In the background, trying desperately to interpret and relay the signific...