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FOR decades, the debate over artistic treasures of historical importance that were looted by colonialists, and carried to museums in their home countries, has been a constant refrain. As far back as 1832, after Greece regained its independence from Ottoman Turkey, it has been demanding the return of its Elgin Marbles. This breathtaking collection of reliefs carved in marble are part of the elaborately decorated Parthenon in Athens’s Acropolis, and was designed and supervised by the architect Phidias between 437 and 442BC.
Two and a half millennia later, these exquisite carvings still have the power to fuel an impassioned controversy. The British government has ignored Greek pleas on the grounds that should it agree, it will be flooded with similar demands from countries around the world where British explorers, soldiers and diplomats went and sent back tons of art, historical artefacts and religious symbols. Other European museums share these concerns.
In fact, the debate has taken on ideological colour as those opposing the display of looted treasures insist that they should be returned to their home countries on moral grounds. Those wanting to retain them argue that these objects are preserved and looked after far better than they would have been had they not been removed. Both points of view reflect the tension between colonial and anti-colonial sides of the argument.
The latest salvo in this debate was fired by David Olusoga, a Nigerian-British historian who, in a talk at the Hay Literary Festival, demanded that Britain return the Benin Bronzes, a large collection of metal plaques and sculptures. Europeans travelling to the Kingdom of Benin in Nigeria were stunned to find this evidence of highly sophisticated art in a civilisation they took as barbaric and backward. In 1897, the British launched a punitive raid into the area and left with over a thousand of the bronze pieces. While 200 are at the British Museum, the rest were sold to collectors and museums in the US and Germany. After gaining its independence, Nigeria has added its voice to those demanding the return of their patrimony from colonial powers.
Zareer Masani, writing in TheDaily Telegraph, argues that when these colonial expropriations took place, they were perfectly normal conduct for the period. And it is true that in Africa and Asia, there was no tradition of preserving and displaying ancient artistic treasures in the pre-colonial era. Indeed, as we have seen from the behaviour of savage jihadi groups in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria and Niger, there is an iconoclastic tradition of destroying ancient statues in the name of Islam. From Bamyan to Timbuktu, ignorant terrorists have been dynamiting and destroying treasures thousands of years old. These barbaric attitudes strengthen the argument of those who say that old artefacts are far better looked after in museums abroad than they would have been in their original locations.
But should we just blame the so-called Islamic State and its various offshoots for this wanton destruction? Saudi Arabia is notorious for levelling many of its archaeological treasures. Some of this obliteration has been on religious grounds, with Wahabis insisting that ancient shrines must be flattened, while other venerable structures are pulled down to make room for commercial projects. In both cases, there is little to distinguish such behaviour from that of the IS.
Pakistan has suffered from post-colonial looting of another kind: our Gandhara reliefs and sculptures from the Buddhist era have been systematically removed over the years, and can be seen in private and public collections abroad. According to hearsay evidence, Japanese collectors have been particularly active, commissioning local gangs to loot Gandhara sites. Pieces from our museums have disappeared and replaced with fakes. The drawing rooms of the well-connected and the wealthy in Karachi, Lahore and Islamabad are adorned with statues of Buddha.
Unesco has launched a vigorous campaign to halt this kind of trafficking of art objects and archaeological treasures through a series of Conventions. The first one, the Hague Convention, was concluded in 1954, and was aimed at art works looted by the Nazis from Jewish owners before and during the Second World War. Since then, hundreds of priceless paintings have been reunited with their rightful owners or their successors.
Other Unesco Conventions for the Return and Protection of Cultural Property were approved in 1970 and 1994, and are designed to prevent the trafficking of stolen or illegally transferred objects of cultural significance. Now, a country can report the removal of such items from its shore and local police forces will keep a lookout in private galleries where they might be displayed and sold.
After the devastation of the historic city of Palmyra in Syria by demented IS thugs, many objects from its earliest days found their way to dealers in the Western art world. In several high profile cases, these shady individuals were unable to establish provenance, or how these objects had found their way into their galleries. But compared to the sheer volume of the traffic, and given the lack of resources and expertise available to most police forces, this is an uphill battle.
Perhaps no other single object has caused so much debate, or generated so many claimants, as the Koh-i-Noor diamond. This large stone adorns Queen Victoria’s crown, and has a long and bloody history. Once Pakistan demanded its return, India voiced its own claim. Iran and the Taliban have also claimed the diamond as theirs. But this is one bit of colonial loot that is unlikely to leave British soil anytime soon.
Published in Dawn, June 4th, 2018
