Magical Materialism: On the Hidden Danger of Repatriation Disputes

In an era of globe-girdling resource flows, angry neonationalist movements, and increasing inequality between the powerful and the powerless, it’s hardly a wonder that demands for the repatriation of cultural property by former colonial subjects from their former colonial overlords (and cultural institutions) have become a hotly debated ethical concern (Nilsson Stutz 2013).¹ Greece’s unanswered call for the return of the Parthenon (“Elgin”) Marbles from the British Museum (Fig. 1; Beresford 2015) is only the most famous of many; the longstanding demand of the Egyptian government for the repatriation of the famous bust of Nefertiti from Berlin’s Neues Museum (Fig. 2; Ikram 2011); Cyprus’s ultimately successful claims for the return of Byzantine frescoes looted from Lysi during the 1974 invasion, displayed until 2012 in the Byzantine Fresco Chapel, the Menil Collection, Houston (Fig. 3; Ogden 2015); and the endless wrangles over legal title to the Dead Sea Scrolls by Israel, Jordan, and the Palestinians analyzed in depth by Kersel (2011) provide other vivid examples of highly politicized disputes in the Eastern Mediterranean region over exclusive ownership rights.

Fig 1.

Parthenon Marbles. Two riders (Block II) from the west frieze of the Parthenon, British Museum. Greece is still waiting.

(Photo by M.-L. Nguyen. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cavalcade_west_frieze_Parthenon_BM.jpg].)

On the one hand are the advocates of “cultural universalism,” as John Henry Merryman famously called it (1986)—aesthetes, collectors, auction houses, and spokesmen for the Great Museums—who wax eloquent about the transcendent value of cultural heritage to modern civilization—yet view its material manifestations as ownable, alienable property, legally transferable by sale or donation, whose ultimate index of value (for the purposes of acquisition, tax write-offs, and insurance) is its current market price (Wright and Eppink 2016). In their self-proclaimed status as universal cultural stewards, they defend their right—even duty—to protect the world’s cultural heritage from destruction or decay. And they insist that the most precious examples of the cultural heritage of all the world’s peoples can best be preserved for the future in established museums by private collector-custodians with access to the most advanced conservation and interpretation skills (Cuno 2014).

Opposing them are those whom Merryman (1986) identified as adherents of “cultural nationalism,” who assert an a priori claim of a modern nation-state on cultural heritage found or uncovered within its territory. Positing an unalienable link between the modern state and all its ancient predecessors, the control of cultural heritage is seen as nothing less than a prerogative of sovereignty. Like petroleum, timber, bauxite, and other natural resources, heritage objects and sites are, in the first instance, the property of the nation that contains them. Its claim for the return of looted or illegally exported cultural property even before the establishment of the state is based on territorial and, often, presumed genealogical priority.

Fig 2.

Bust of Nefertiti. Neues Museum, Berlin. Finders keepers?

(Photo by P. Pikart. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Nofretete_Neues_Museum.jpg].)

And in recent years other contenders have arisen: sub-state actors—who are sometimes actively anti-state actors—including activists in indigenous communities, ethnic minorities, threatened language speakers, linguistic enclaves, class and gender movements, and diasporic groups (Graham and Howard 2008). In an age of identity politics, once-homogeneous national identities are in the process of continuing fragmentation, giving rise to countless global networks of political activism and cultural kinship that seek symbolically to challenge long-held inequalities of power and economic domination, by demanding their own cultural rights (Onciul 2015).

Ironically, the most passionate advocates and staunchest opponents of cultural heritage repatriation share some identical assumptions: (1) that heritage objects rightfully “belong” to someone and (2) that every effort should be made to ensure that the rightful owners gain, retain, or at least regulate control of “their” ancient sites and historical artifacts. Yet because the goal in all repatriation disputes is exclusive possession, these disputes can...