Should artefacts taken by colonial powers be returned?

Shay Patel

Colonialism is the process which has profoundly shaped our world to be the multi-cultural, ever-changing global society we live in today. People of colour are no longer confined to the country of their ancestors and can live in and contribute towards a much more accepting society than what used to be. Our colonial ancestors, unconventionally, invested in infrastructure imperative to the evolution of the country occupied, a primary example being the construction of railways under the British Raj, and adopted the human rights standards we expect in the West. Colonists, more often than not, set the blueprint for the installation of a democratic government and other progressive institutions in the country, helping to mould their future once granted independence. But, behind the veneer of favourable effects, colonialism severely harmed every country which was a victim of the savage process. Colonialists integrated their own language and culture into colonies, at the expense of the way of life of the native population and obliterated the culture of indigenous people. The national culture of countries and colonial domination have always been mutually exclusive. Patrick Wolfe, an esteemed historian, explained, correctly, that the ‘question of genocide is never far from the discussions of settler colonialism’. Southwestern Africa in 1904 and Rwanda in 1994 are proof of this. Poverty became rampant, exploitation was apparent, and people became accustomed to the absurd level of racism and prejudice displayed by imperialists. Colonists believed in a natural racial hierarchy, whereby there was a superiority in the race of the mother country. In 2021, Emmanuel Macron claimed colonialism to have been a ‘crime against humanity’ and acknowledged the acts of barbarity and atavism committed by former French colonialists.

The looting of artefacts accompanied their gains and became second nature to colonialists, who heartlessly and ashamedly seized what was left of the culture of countries all over the world. This essay will explore the reasons as to why cultural artefacts must be repatriated to the countries of their origin for the global good.

Colonialism, defined as the ‘domination of a peoples or area by a foreign state’ combined with the ‘practice of extending a nation’s political control over another area’, is a concept used to label the modern imperialism of European countries from the 15th century onwards, during the Age of Discovery. By 1914, Europe had subjugated 84% of the world, with only one country daring to stand up to their military prowess: Japan. The salient cause of the rapid growth of colonialism was rooted in the unwavering Western belief in Christianity, and hence the spread and integration of Christian faith into colonies. Colonialism has long lived on in this regard, with the religion still entrenched in the majority of former colonies, particularly those in Asia and Africa. 

The British are the most notorious of imperialists, having colonised over 25% of the world and close to 700 million people. Their empire expanded its dominion through a ceaseless campaign of violence and conquest. Like Britain, many other empires were driven by an insatiable desire for power. Violence and conflict became a systematic feature of colonialism; coercion was fundamental to the retention of power. Artefacts were often plundered during military expeditions; for example, the Benin Bronzes were seized by the British in 1897 from modern-day Nigeria amidst a punitive raid. Some, like the Elgin Marbles, were directly excavated by soldiers or ambassadors and taken without consent to be sold to a government or a museum. Other artefacts were taken again without consent and passed between empires, such as Egypt’s Rosetta Stone, passed from the French to the British after defeat in battle, who have held it since in the British Museum. The repatriation debate has long been complex and controversial, with it involving governments, museums, indigenous groups and academic institutions. International laws, such as the UNESCO 1970 Convention, prohibit the illicit transfer of ownership of cultural property. However, this convention is not retroactive and so does not cover any artefact acquired prior to 1970; hence, many artefacts taken during the colonial period fall outside its purview.

The returning of artefacts taken by colonial powers has raised acute concern amongst governments, with security risks at the forefront of their worry. Countries demanding their artefacts back tend to lack the resources and capital necessary to maintain their upkeep. Iheanyi Onwuegbucha, a curator at Lagos’ Centre for Contemporary Art, has reinforced this view. He argues that countries, specifically those in Africa which suffered a loss of culture through the seizure of artefacts, needed to gravely improve their facilities prior to demanding back any artefacts. Nigeria is in fact guilty of having derelict and dilapidated public museums and galleries, which means they are ‘not ready to receive anything’. In fact, 22 of the Benin Bronzes which were returned to Nigeria by Germany still hadn’t gone onto display, even almost 2 years later. But surely the revenue gained from a nation repossessing their rightful belongings would be used to fund the upkeep of public institutions and bring tourism to a country that would not ordinarily benefit from such economic activity?

Another fundamental issue regarding repatriation is the dispute over ownership. Many colonial artefacts have been subjected to diplomatic controversy, with rightful ownership being sometimes difficult to ascertain. Take the Koh-I-Noor diamond. The priceless diamond, currently a part of the Crown Jewels, has been a topic of intrigue ever since the diamond fell into the hands of the British in the mid-19th century. The earliest verifiable record of the Koh-I-Noor comes from a history of the 1740s invasion of Northern India. Onwards, the diamond changed hands between various empires until it reached the possession of the child emperor Duleep Singh of Punjab, in 1843. The Maharaja was compelled to relinquish the invaluable jewel and his other assets to Queen Victoria following the cessation of the 2nd Anglo-Sikh War and made the journey to the United Kingdom. Since then, the jewel has been used as part of the coronation of every female monarch or Queen Consort. Immediately after India was granted independence in 1947, they consistently asked for the diamond to be returned to them, to no prevail. Pakistani governments and, in recent years, the Taliban have claimed original ownership of the jewel and henceforth demanded its return to them. Multiple claimants of the Koh-I-Noor have made it easy for British officials to justify their incongruous ownership of the jewel. However, the British do consider the diamond to have Indian heritage; with Prime Minister David Cameron stating: ‘They’re not having that back!’ during a trip to India in 2013. Thus, it must be said that there is still an element of pride which former empires do not want to lose by returning artefacts taken to their countries of origin. Many artefacts were also gained through treaties, or as gifts, further complicating the question of rightful ownership. Nevertheless, these cases were the extreme minority, and artefacts that were given as opposed to looted may have been acquired under duress or manipulation.  

Clinging onto certain artefacts may also be explained by the idea that many were found or excavated by looters, rather than forcibly seized or manipulated by imperialists into handing over ownership; exemplified in the case of the Parthenon Marbles. Lord Elgin, Britain’s ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, petitioned to be able to draw, measure and document figures from the depleting archaeological site. Elgin decided to remove half of the artefacts himself, including the Parthenon Marbles and transported them to Britain, subsequently selling them on to the British government. Elgin’s actions have warranted great dissension; with requests for return incredibly periodic and denied on the basis that Lord Elgin supposedly acquired the marbles legally, and that the British Museum is the supreme place to ensure pure conservation of the artefact. However, from a Greek perspective, Elgin obtained the marbles illegally and immorally, a view open to interpretation. Beginning the process of returning the Parthenon marbles would inevitably result in legal complications, partly due to the 1970 UNESCO Convention and the British Museum Act of 1963, which forbids the British Museum from returning its holdings, but overturning this statute law is entirely possible if the desire is there. The Western Museum is not a neutral institution, but the site of political, ideological and economic battles which must be overcome. Preservation of the marbles in Greece would be assured; the Acropolis Museum has the means to protect the marbles, and its presence sheds futility onto the argument that only the British Museum is best equipped to conserve the treasured artefacts. Whilst the marbles do hold a ubiquitous global worth, they are above all, a paramount facet of Greek culture which must be respected and dignified. 

African countries have often fallen prey to artefact looting and its adverse effects. The notorious case of the Rosetta Stone exemplifies this claim, with denial of repatriation requests being a recurring theme. The stone, inscribed with texts crucial to the decipherment of Egyptian scripts, fell to the hands of the French during the Napoleonic campaign. The British vanquished the French, assumed possession of the artefact and displayed it in the British Museum since 1802. Translations of the stone revolutionised our understanding of Egyptian culture and language, and to this day captures millions of viewers, oblivious to the Egyptian need to reclaim their national history from its colonial past. Today, people in Egypt feel as though the Rosetta Stone is symbolic of Western colonialism over traditional Egyptian culture. Repatriating the artefact, sadly, does not look likely in the foreseeable future, which is problematic for Egyptian people who, probably, won’t not see an integral aspect of their culture returned to them. 

The process of repatriating some artefacts taken by colonial powers has begun, with the Netherlands handing back the idyllic Lombok treasure to Indonesia, and an exquisite canon to Sri Lanka. Germany has also begun to partake in the repatriation process, with some of their Benin Bronzes given back to Nigeria, and, though not artefacts, some human remains have been sent to Namibia to help with research, after formally acknowledging committing a heinous genocide there in 1904. Belgium and France have followed suit by pledging the return of artefacts to African countries. Britain has proceeded to return small amounts of specific items, such as Ghana’s Asante Gold, but is still significantly behind her former European imperial counterparts. A Conservative Party lawmaker, John Hayes, has justified this by asserting that nations such as Germany, France and Belgium are returning items for purely diplomatic reasons; they are aiming to bolster international relations. He has affirmed that Britain is not in a position whereby they need to improve any relations and are thus being ‘more sensible’ than other countries with regards to repatriation. Britain does still have a myriad of artefacts that have yet to be returned, much more than any other country. Indians would be undoubtedly euphoric to receive the Koh-I-Noor diamond back, but questions raised over original ownership have made this occurrence highly improbable.

The ongoing question of repatriation has been complex and controversial, causing stifled discourse. Diverging opinions have led to a case-by-case approach to be taken, which is needed, as a multitude of factors must be determined, such as original ownership and the means of seizure. There is a concern regarding oversimplification when suggesting the return of colonial artefacts to their countries of origin. The ability to protect and maintain the objects must be accounted for, but equally, so should the potential for the object to boost the nation economically and culturally. Museums play a central role in the debate over the return of colonial artefacts. They have a responsibility to balance the ethical imperatives of restitution with their ambition to educate and preserve. Movement towards decolonising museum practices has been growing; their role to educate people works both ways. Educating how artefacts came into the hands of the imperialists at the expense of victimised communities must occur. As a person with immigrant ancestry, I personally understand the power of culture and its utmost importance for the vast majority of people, through many poignant conversations with my grandparents on this topic. Culture and religion form the fabric of any society, and a nation’s historical and cultural values are henceforth understandably critical to its identity. Repatriating cultural artefacts to their countries of origin is also repatriating segments of their tradition and heritage. It is a matter of respect and dignity. Britain is still reckoning with her colonial past. Every artefact in the hands of the British has a story. Each colonial artefact withheld from the country of origin intensifies the pain experienced by countries, wearing scars from their colonial experiences. The governor of Easter Island, speaking of the remaining Hoa Hakananai’a in the UK, tearfully said: ‘You, the British people, have our soul?’; speaking volumes about the impact of colonialism and artefact looting. At a universal level, the question of returning artefacts is a question of empathy and morality. More time should be devoted to the problem of repatriation and rectifying the injustices of colonialism. The ethical thing to do is to return artefacts to their country of origin to promote peace, cultural importance and restoration, and erode the remnants of colonial legacies.