One argument put forward for keeping these items is that the location of their origin is unknown or ambiguous – it would be impossible to know to whom and where to return them. Most of the global artefacts that are now held in European museums were either looted or bought for a value far below that of the European art market price at the time of their acquisition. Marie Rodet, Senior Lecturer in the History of Africa, SOAS, University of LondonĪrtefacts taken from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Oceania and the Americas during colonialism belong and should be returned to their countries of origin. Next to other artefacts from different times and places it can provoke questions, illustrate relationships and take on an elevated meaning. The decision about where to place ancient artefacts should not be reduced to chasing impossible historical authenticity, contrition for the past (fashionable now), or ethnicity (intermittently popular), but where is best for the object.Ī terrifying sculpture, once an object of domination or devotion, becomes in a gallery an object of enlightenment, beauty, or a social text to be read. Like time machines, far away from their original location, ancient artefacts on show in 21st- century London, Tokyo or Senegal can transport the visitor to ancient Assyria, Athens, or the royal palace of Benin. Artefacts do not need to be ‘returned’ for this to happen. Yet it is in the sculpture, tablets and carvings that remain that residue of their origins is found. Regardless of intent, soon after any object is made, it passes out of the hands of the creator into those of others – patrons, family, friends, thieves – new owners, crossing continents and centuries and changing use as it does. The court of Benin, which commissioned the Benin Bronzes, hardly resembles contemporary Nigeria.Īll of the artefacts we gaze upon today were made for someone else and for some other purpose: to celebrate the powerful for worship or for ordinary household use.
The ancient Assyria of 883 BC is very different from modern northern Iraq fifth century BC Athens, which produced the much fought-over Parthenon Marbles, is unrecognisable compared to modern Greece. Even if we wanted to, it would not be possible to return them to their place of origin.
The five-legged, alabaster beasts were not made for brightly-lit galleries. When, 3,000 years ago, sculptors in the Assyrian Empire chiselled into being winged, human-headed bulls for King Ashurnasirpal II, they could not have dreamt that their creations would end up centuries later in museums thousands of miles away. Tiffany Jenkins, author of Keeping Their Marbles: How the Treasures of the Past Ended Up in Museums – and Why They Should Stay There (Oxford, 2016)