The Debate over Stolen Artifacts: Are Notable Museums a Den of Thieves?
If you scour the British Museum website, you may come across a page titled, “Contested objects from the collection.” This page lists various pieces of artwork that have questions regarding their origins and how they were acquired by the British Museum. Included on this page are the Benin Bronzes from the Western African Kingdom of Benin, the Maqdala collection from Ethiopia, and Moai statues from Easter Island. In recent years, museums have been questioned more and more about the provenance of their collections, and more decisions have been made in support of the return of objects acquired by military powers during the colonial era or by many other invading forces throughout history.
Historically, Western museums have long resisted the pressure to return stolen objects, but recent years have seen numerous repatriation agreements to return looted artifacts. A significant breakthrough occurred in 2017, when President Emmanuel Macron pledged to make the return of stolen African artifacts “a top priority.” Since then, France has repatriated dozens of major works to Senegal, Madagascar, and Benin, according to the New York Times. Other governments have followed suit. In 2021, the German, Dutch, and Belgian governments all released plans to begin returning colonial-era acquisitions. In 2022, notable American museums returned various stolen works – for example, the Smithsonian Museum Institution returned 29 Benin Bronzes to Nigeria.
Even the University of North Carolina is not innocent of owning looted artwork. In 2018, UNC’s Ackland Art Museum returned Manjusri, a looted 10th Century Buddhist sculpture, to India that was donated to the museum in 2010. Even smaller museums have been pressured to critically look at their collections and evaluate both the ethicality and legality of their displays.
While there have been many repatriation agreements, critics and community leaders are still seeking the return of numerous artifacts, most of which hold cultural or religious significance in the communities from which they were taken. For example, the contested Benin Bronzes still on display in the British Museum were originally used in the Kingdom of Benin to document the region’s history. “This is how we document history,” states Victor Ehikhamenor, an artist from Benin, “And a chunk, a large part of this history, was stolen from us when the British looted the kingdom's artifacts. That page in our history book was ripped off very violently.” Of the 5,000 originally created, there are around 3,000 Benin Bronzes dispersed in private collections and museums throughout the world.
Among the most controversial artifacts, the Rosetta Stone, currently residing in the British Museum, has recently been in the spotlight as calls for its return to Egypt emerge. Upon its acquisition by forces of the British Empire in 1801, the slab of stone inscribed with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, including demotic script and Ancient Greek, represented a global breakthrough in the translation of ancient languages. Today, activists and Egyptian officials are asking for its return to its place of discovery, claiming it was wrongfully taken. Activist and Dean at the Arab Academy for Science, Technology, and Maritime Transport Monica Hanna states, “The British Museum’s holding of the stone is a symbol of Western cultural violence against Egypt.” Both Hannah and Egypt’s former minister for antiquities affairs, Zahi Hawass, have formed petitions demanding for repatriation of the global rarity; yet, it is not even listed under the “contested objects” page on the British Museum website.
While more museums have been open to repatriation discussions, many have remained steadfast in their ownership of contested pieces. For example, British museums often cite the British Museum Act of 1963, which restricts the circumstances during which trustees can remove artwork from the museum’s collection. Technicalities of acquisition agreements have also been disputed. For example, the British claim that the acquisition of the Rosetta Stone was consensual, citing an 1801 treaty representing the end of a battle in Egypt—which was part of the Ottoman Empire—between France and the British Empire. The treaty includes an agreement that handed dozens of artifacts and artwork over to the British. While the British claim legality because the document was signed by an Ottoman admiral who fought alongside the British, Hawass claims that “Egypt had no say in the agreement.” While the legal battle over the famous artifact will likely be a “hard battle to win,” according to Boston-based attorney Nicholas Donnel, the Rosetta Stone remains a relic of Egyptian history and heritage thousands of miles away from those who identify with its history most.
Museums have also historically taken pride in how vast their collections reach and the diversity of cultures they represent. The front page of the British Museum invites visitors to “experience cultures throughout the globe.” This sentiment might explain why a British Museum spokesman defends the museum’s ownership of Greek Parthenon Marbles by saying “we’re not going to dismantle the museum’s collection as it tells the story of our common humanity.” However, while thousands of tourists annually are able to experience these treasures, the local communities that once cherished these artifacts are unable to do the same.
As talks of repatriation come to standstills over these arguments, a new term emerges: ‘partnership.’ In each of the British Museum statements found on the contested objects page, they reference a hope for a “long-term partnership” or “long-term relationship” with the communities requesting the return of their artifacts. This new positioning now begs the question: Does this change of rhetoric constitute real justice, or does it merely mask an age-old power dynamic that remains unwavering? One of these ‘partnerships’ has come to fruition in Benin City, Nigeria, as a the Edo Museum of West African Art, in a joint project with the British Museum, seeks to unearth ruins of the ancient Kingdom of Benin and house repatriated artifacts—a project that has earned global recognition.
However, despite efforts to create ‘partnerships,’ holders of the museum remain in full control of these stolen artifacts with all of the economic and cultural value they hold. Without the complete return of these objects to the communities that were stripped of pieces of their economy, pieces of their history, and pieces of their culture, justice for acts committed during the imperialist era cannot fully be served. With little movement in the global return of these objects, the onus then falls on us, the museum-goers and supporters, to ask questions about the objects we admire and to challenge what we have taken for granted.