WHAT’s in a name? Quite a lot, it seems. The Elgin Marbles are being renamed the Parthenon Sculptures by those who insist that they should be removed from the British Museum and sent back to Athens.
The idea that cultural artefacts should be returned to their countries of origin is now uncritically accepted in many circles. When I visited the new Acropolis Museum in Athens a few years ago, the tour guide ended with a spirited denunciation of Britain, which was loudly applauded by my fellow tourists, mainly Americans. My suggestion that all the Old Masters in US museums should, therefore, be returned to Europe was not well-received.
Several self-evident truths in this debate are more problematic than often appears. Why is geography deemed coterminous with entitlement? The Ottomans sold the Marbles to Elgin in 1801, before modern Greece even existed.
If this is about the restoration of the artistic authenticity of the Acropolis, why is it not proposed to place them in situ? Moving the Marbles from a museum in London to a museum in Athens sounds an issue more of ownership than artistic integrity.
And why do we assume that some periods of history are more significant than others? The Parthenon stands as a tribute to the golden age of Ancient Greek religion, philosophy, drama, and art. But the British Museum is testament to the reality of the British Empire, which was, for more than a century, the largest in history.
The extraordinary breadth, depth, and richness of the British Museum’s collections — where the civilisation of Ancient Greece can be closely compared with those of Sumeria, Egypt, the Indus Valley, Minoa, the Mayan, and so many more — are testimony to an equally significant phase in the history of civilisation.
In the British Museum, the Marbles are milestones in a rich account of human culture from its beginnings to the present day.
The anthropologist Adam Kuper, who has just published The Museum of Other People (Profile Books), highlights other complications. He refers to the Benin Bronzes, acquired by British troops in the 19th century, and asks to whom they should be given back. Not the National Museum in Lagos, from which many bronzes have vanished — only to appear on the international market. To the Governor of the city of modern Benin, in Edo state? The King of Benin insists not; they should go to him, he says.
Moreover, the bronzes were created at a time when the Benin were slavers trading with the Portuguese, which is why some of the bronzes represent Portuguese soldiers, not Africans. How do we find the slaves from whose sweat the Benin wealth was made?
Things are no simpler when it comes to the return of human remains. Native Americans have been at the forefront of demands that the bones of their ancestors should be buried. Yet, as Kuper points out, Native Americans did not generally bury their dead. Burial is a latter-day Christian innovation. The anachronism suggests that this may be less about respect for ancient spirituality, and more about the modern politics of identity. All of this is far trickier than many assume.
But, while we’re at it, can we Roman Catholics have our cathedrals back, please?