Contractors this week removed the last three Confederate statues that stood on Virginia’s Capitol Square in Richmond. The bronzes of Gen. Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson, Gov. William “Extra Billy” Smith and Dr. Hunter Holmes McGuire were taken down after lawmakers slipped specific removal language and funding into the state budget. The statues were gifted to the Shenandoah Valley Battlefields Foundation, which now will decide where, when and whether they return to public view.
Budget backdoor: how the removals were carried out
Lawmakers did not pass a standalone bill to move these monuments. Instead, the General Assembly folded the removal order into the state budget, providing roughly $1.79 million to pay for the work. Adam Ebbin, now Senior Advisor at the Virginia Cannabis Control Authority, pushed the measure earlier this year and defended it by saying the move “changes who we choose to venerate on the Capitol lawn” rather than erases history. Translation: when you can’t win a normal vote, you hide the outcome in an appropriations line. It’s an old political trick — and taxpayers footed the bill.
Who will decide the statues’ fate?
The Shenandoah Valley Battlefields Foundation now has custody of the bronzes. CEO Keven Walker says the foundation will work with partners to preserve the pieces and likely consider battlefield sites in the Shenandoah Valley for display. That sounds reasonable on the surface — preservation beats smashing — but it also hands a private group final say over monuments that once stood in front of the people’s Capitol. Expect slow timelines, careful PR about “conservation,” and the occasional vague promise about future locations.
History, politics and the cost of symbolic gestures
This action closes a chapter that began in force after the 2020 protests and the toppling of the Jefferson Davis statue. Supporters called the Capitol statues an embarrassing tribute to a racist past; opponents warned about erasing history and letting politics dictate public memory. Both sides have points, but citizens have a right to complain when major cultural decisions are pushed through on an appropriations line rather than debated openly. The state also spent real money on a symbolic act of political theater — and those dollars matter to working families who see little direct benefit from the pageantry.
The bronze pieces are down, but the debate is not. Expect questions about exact relocation plans, conservation costs, and any legal challenges from donors or interest groups who may claim ownership or object to the handoff. The sensible path would be clear transparency: publish the budget text, list the costs, name the intended sites and timelines, and move from lecturing to explaining. If you want to reframe history, at least do it in daylight — not in the fine print of next year’s spending bill.

