Museum Studies at Tufts University

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Tag: Repatriation

Example of museum professionals examining items subject to NAGPRA
The San Diego Museum of Man’s registrar and collections manager working with members of the Kashia Band of Pomo Indians of the Stewarts Point Rancheria, CA during a NAGPRA-based visit to collections. Photo courtesy of the San Diego Museum of Man

We Need to Talk About NAGPRA: Noncompliance & Cultural Affiliation

November 16, 2023 / / 0 Comments

Previously, we discussed what the Native American Graves Protection & Repatriation Act is and what it requires of museums and other institutions. NAGPRA is a federal law, so why do tens of thousands of ancestors and countless Native belongings remain unavailable for repatriation? Many institutions have massive numbers of Native Ancestors in their collections, not to mention funerary objects, sacred objects, and objects of cultural patrimony. In 1989, the Smithsonian Institution alone had 18,500 ancestors in its custody.[1] This has made repatriating ancestors a massive undertaking, requiring immense time, labor, and expertise. Beyond logistics, many academics argued that Native ancestors should be studied for the sake of science and education.[2] While this belief is not widely held today, the repercussions of this logic are still felt. Based on this argument, some institutions dragged their feet, resulting in today’s massive backlogs.

Many institutions are NAGPRA compliant or have made good-faith efforts to become compliant. However, some institutions had a vested interest in avoiding NAGPRA compliance. But how was and is that possible? There are two big elements of NAGPRA that have allowed non-compliant museums to fly under the radar: who NAGPRA applies to and how it is enforced. In my previous article, I discussed to whom NAGPRA applies: museums and government agencies. However, the way in which NAGPRA defines museums left a loophole. The statute states that “Museum means any institution or State or local government agency (including any institution of higher learning) that has possession of, or control over, human remains, funerary objects, sacred objects, or objects of cultural patrimony and receives Federal funds.”[3] What this has meant in practice is that only museums & institutions which have accepted federal, or state funding must comply. This resulted in some museums which had not already accepted federal funding not applying for funding in the future in order to avoid becoming subject to NAGPRA. These museums and institutions represent a significant gap in the data regarding ancestors and objects covered by NAGPRA held in museum collections. Databases like the one created by ProPublica depend on data published in inventories and summaries. Institutions that have not submitted inventories can often avoid public accountability.

The second element that has allowed some museums to avoid NAGPRA compliance is how the regulations are enforced. Enforcement and penalties for non-compliance are entirely dependent on individuals or groups officially reporting the failure of an institution to comply.[4] There are no regular or random inspections for NAGPRA compliance by the Department of the Interior. Furthermore, the civil penalties that museums face are minimal in practice. As of April 2022, only 20 institutions had been fined for non-compliance, with an average fine of only $2,955 per institution.[5] Essentially, the law has no teeth. 

Some museums have also acted in bad faith by complying with the letter of the law but not the true intent. One example of this is ‘culturally unidentifiable’ objects. In the past, museums claimed that they could not repatriate ancestors and funerary objects because they could not determine a cultural affiliation and designated ancestors as ‘culturally unidentifiable,’ or CUI.[6] Some museums set arbitrary dates to limit cultural affiliation. The Illinois State Museum set a guideline that “any individual buried prior to 1673, the date the first Europeans arrived in the State of Illinois, was not subject to NAGPRA.”[7] In 2010, the Department of the Interior enacted a new regulation that allows for culturally unidentifiable human remains and associated funerary objects to be repatriated. However, this rule does not cover unassociated funerary objects.[8]

But what is cultural affiliation and why is it so complicated? According to the NAGPRA regulations, “cultural affiliation means that there is a relationship of shared group identity that can be reasonably traced historically or prehistorically between members of a present-day Indian tribe or Native Hawaiian organization and an identifiable earlier group.”[9] Essentially, culturally affiliating something is determining what specific Native American culture an item originated with and the modern Native nations who might have a claim. You do not have to prove cultural affiliation definitively. The standard is “a preponderance of evidence,” meaning that there is substantial evidence to support your conclusion. There are different types of evidence that can be used to support cultural affiliation, such geographic affiliation, kinship, biological, archeological, anthropological, linguistic, folklore, oral traditions, and historical evidence. In recent years, more weight has been given to traditional Native knowledge and beliefs and the proposed new regulations codify that.

So why are there so many CUI ancestors and objects in museums? How do you not know where an object or person came from? It’s a lot easier than you’d think. Native belongings have entered museum collections through a variety of colonial pathways, including “inequitable trade, ‘expeditions’, looting, and theft.[10] All of these pathways often work to obscure the provenance of items. The actions of anthropologists, museums, academic institutions, and the United States government all contributed to unethical collections lacking provenance. Shortly after the Civil War, the Surgeon General’s Order of 1868 was passed. Grave robbing of Native graves existed long before this, but this order enshrined such acts in federal policy, ordering soldiers and other army employees to unethically obtain remains for the Army Medical Museum.[11]Adding insult to injury, Native remains, particularly skulls, were used to support bunk race sciences like phrenology to justify settler colonialism and genocide.[12] Other justifications such salvage ethnography, and ‘preserving evidence extinct races’ abounded.[13] In 1906, the government even designated Native remains as “federal property” with the Antiquities Act.[14] Grave robbing combined with poorly documented archaeology resulted in large collections of human remains and objects with virtually no documentation.

To be very clear, not all museums, in fact, I would say most are not engaged in Machiavellian scheming to avoid NAGPRA compliance. Today’s museum professionals have often inherited collections management disasters decades in the making. I know of at least one museum professional who was told the museum was NAGPRA compliant. A sort of oral history surrounding NAGPRA compliance existed. However, further research revealed that no documentation or inventories existed in the museum’s records. Upon contacting National NAGPRA, they found that the museum had never submitted an inventory. Many museums don’t realize they are noncompliant or that they are subject to NAGPRA. Cultural affiliation is also challenging and nuanced work, requiring expertise, labor, and funding. Resistance to NAGPRA and cultural affiliation is fading, but the road to compliance remains rocky. For more information on the Native American Graves Protection & Repatriation Act, I highly recommend NAGPRA Comics. These comics tell true stories of repatriation under NAGPRA and are collaborative in community-based.

[1] Jack F. Trope, “The Case for NAGPRA,” in Accomplishing NAGPRA: Perspectives on the Intent, Impact, and Future of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (Corvallis, OR: Oregon State University Press, 2013), 24.

[2] Devon A. Mihesuah, “American Indians, Anthropologists, Pothunters, and Repatriation: Ethical, Religious, and Political Differences,” in Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian Remains, ed. Devon A. Mihesuah (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 123–68.

[3] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[4] “Civil Penalties – Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act,” National Park Service, October 14, 2020, https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/civil-penalties.htm.

[5] Mary Hudetz and Graham Lee Brewer, “Senate Committee Probes Top Universities, Museums Over Failures to Repatriate Human Remains,” ProPublica, April 21, 2023, https://www.propublica.org/article/senate-probes-universities-museums-nagpra-failures.

[6] Logan Jaffe Brewer et al., “America’s Biggest Museums Fail to Return Native American Human Remains,” ProPublica, January 11, 2023, https://www.propublica.org/article/repatriation-nagpra-museums-human-remains.

[7] Laurie W. Rush, “It’s Personal: My Lifetime Lessons Protecting Ancestors,” Indian Affairs Journal 192, no. Spring/Summer (2023): 6–8.

[8]

[9] 43 CFR 10.2 (d)(4), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[10] Brandie Macdonald, “Pausing, Reflection, and Action: Decolonizing Museum Practices,” Journal of Museum Education 47, no. 1 (January 2, 2022): 8–17, https://doi.org/10.1080/10598650.2021.1986668.

[11] Jack F. Trope and Walter R. Echo-Hawk, “The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act: Background and Legislative History,” in Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian Remains, ed. Devon A. Mihesuah (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 126;  Jack F. Trope, “The Case for NAGPRA,” in Accomplishing NAGPRA: Perspectives on the Intent, Impact, and Future of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (Corvallis, OR: Oregon State University Press, 2013), 22.

[12] Logan Jaffe Brewer et al., “America’s Biggest Museums Fail to Return Native American Human Remains,” ProPublica, January 11, 2023, https://www.propublica.org/article/repatriation-nagpra-museums-human-remains; Jack F. Trope and Walter R. Echo-Hawk, “The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act: Background and Legislative History,” in Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian Remains, ed. Devon A. Mihesuah (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 126.

[13] Logan Jaffe Brewer et al., “America’s Biggest Museums Fail to Return Native American Human Remains,” ProPublica, January 11, 2023, https://www.propublica.org/article/repatriation-nagpra-museums-human-remains.

[14]  Jack F. Trope and Walter R. Echo-Hawk, “The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act: Background and Legislative History,” in Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian Remains, ed. Devon A. Mihesuah (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 127;  Jack F. Trope, “The Case for NAGPRA,” in Accomplishing NAGPRA: Perspectives on the Intent, Impact, and Future of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (Corvallis, OR: Oregon State University Press, 2013), 22.

We Need to Talk About NAGPRA…But What Is It?

October 4, 2023 / / 0 Comments

 Museums are currently facing a reckoning for past collecting practices, with many nations demanding repatriation of illegally or unethically obtained items. It comes as no surprise that Indigenous Nations have been among those demanding the return of their cultural heritage and ancestors. Public scrutiny combined with new regulations in the coming weeks has resulted in greater interest in the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, also known as NAGPRA. The legal language and fraught subject matter of NAGPRA makes the act complex and difficult to understand; but, we’re here to give you a crash course in what the law is and why all museum professionals need to understand it.

NAGPRA is a federal law passed on November 16th, 1990 that can be understood as human rights legislation related to the Indian Religious Freedom Act of 1978. Until 1978, government policy prevented Indigenous people in the United States from exercising their first amendment right to freedom of religion. Anishinaabe historian and NAGPRA practitioner, Eric Hemingway, has stated that, “Many Native people across the country saw the need to have their ancestors returned as part of their ceremonies, part of their religion, part of their belief system […] and also to reclaim many of the sacred items that have been taken or alienated from their communities.”[1] Under NAGPRA Indian Tribes, Native Hawaiian Organizations, or lineal descendants of the ancestor “whose remains, funerary objects, or sacred objects” are in the custody of a museum can make a claim for repatriation.  

In the simplest terms, NAGPRA requires museums and federal agencies to repatriate Native American human remains and belongings in their collections and to consult with Tribes when similar remains or belongings are discovered on federally owned land.[2] However, the law and its implementation are far more complex than this definition would suggest. NAGPRA covers five types of items in museum collections: human remains, associated funerary objects, unassociated funerary objects, sacred objects, and objects of cultural patrimony.[3] I should note that the terms ‘belongings’ or ‘items’ are preferred terminology, but ‘objects’ is the legal terminology used in both the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act and the accompanying regulations. When referring to legalities and official categories, I will use ‘object’ but will otherwise use the more respectful terminology. 

The definitions and categories of items are crucial to the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act. Native ancestors, officially termed human remains in NAGPRA, are defined as the “physical remains of the body of a person of Native American ancestry.”[4] The category of human remains does not include parts naturally shed or potentially ‘freely given’, such as human hair.[5] This means that collections like the hair samples held by Harvard University, are not technically subject to NAGPRA. However, like Harvard, institutions can choose to repatriate Native belongings even if they are not legally obligated to do so. 

Funerary objects and the distinctions between associated and unassociated funerary objects are a little more complex. According to the NAGPRA regulations, funerary objects are “objects that were made exclusively for burial purposes or to contain human remains.”[6] This category might include belongings placed with an ancestor, such as beads or pottery, as well as burial containers like urns. Associated funerary objects are “funerary objects for which the human remains with which they were placed intentionally are also in the possession or control of a museum or Federal agency.”[7] Unassociated funerary objects are “funerary objects for which the human remains with which they were placed intentionally are not in the possession or control of a museum or Federal agency.”[8] Essentially, Native belongings are associated funerary objects when a museum holds the objects and the remains with which they were found. Native belongings are unassociated funerary objects when a museum holds the objects and does NOT have the remains with which they were found. During the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, ancestors were frequently separated from their belongings under a variety of circumstances. Grave robbers known as “pothunters” often only sought items highly desirable to white collectors, such as pottery and jewelry.[9] Other grave robbers stole the remains of ancestors to build osteological collections to support inaccurate race sciences, like phrenology.[10] In other cases, archaeologists would divide the items from an archaeological site among several museums, separating ancestors from their burial items. As a result, museums may have belongings from a burial in their collection while the ancestor remained interred, or an ancestor might be in their care, while belongings from the burial are in the care of another museum. A common misconception is that the remains and funerary objects must be held by the same museum in order for those funerary objects to be considered associated. However, the remains associated with the objects can be held by any museum or institution. In some of the most unfortunate cases there are simply no records to determine whether an item is an associated funerary object, and is deemed unassociated.  

The third category, sacred objects, are belongings needed for the practice of Native American religions with present-day adherents.[11] In other words, the religion must be currently practiced by Native American people. This can present a significant hurdle to tribes working to revive religious practices lost over centuries of oppression. Finally, objects of cultural patrimony are defined as items that are central to an Indian Tribe or Native Hawaiian Organization’s culture, traditions, or history to the point of being collective cultural property. This means that they cannot be owned or sold by an individual.[12] One of the best-known examples of cultural patrimony are the Wampum Belts belonging to the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. Several of these belts were repatriated in 1989 under the National Museum of the American Indian Act (NMAIA), a law similar to NAGPRA which governs the Smithsonian Institution.[13] 

But who must comply with NAGPRA? In short, museums and federal agencies. But it’s how NAGPRA defines museums that’s tricky. The statute states that “Museum means any institution or State or local government agency (including any institution of higher learning) that has possession of, or control over, human remains, funerary objects, sacred objects, or objects of cultural patrimony and receives Federal funds.”[14] What this has meant in practice is that only museums & institutions which have accepted federal, or state funding must comply. For example, a small museum that has relied solely on its endowment and donations is not required under the current statute to comply with NAGPRA. 

In the more than thirty years since NAGPRA became law, progress has been incremental and many museums remain non-compliant. As of April 2023, 104,539 Native Ancestors have yet to be made available for repatriation.[15] However, this statistic only includes museums which have publicly reported their holdings in compliance with the law. Countless small museums across the country may not even be aware they are non-compliant. Though the task may seem daunting, it is one that museum professionals must undertake. We must step forward into a new era of collaboration with Native Nations and communities. It is an ethical imperative that we work to make museums safe and welcoming spaces which accurately and thoughtfully represent the cultures with whose belongings we have been entrusted. If you would like to learn more about NAGPRA, or are a museum professional working on compliance, we encourage you to explore the following resources:

The ProPublic Repatriation Project

The ProPublica Repatriation Project Database 

The NAGPRA Community of Practice

The National Park Service

The National NAGPRA Program Training Resources

 

Notes

[1] NAGPRA 101, 2023. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRteJ8IJiVY.

[2] Sangita Chari and Jaime M.N. Lavallee, “Introduction,” in Accomplishing NAGPRA: Perspectives on the Intent, Impact, and Future of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (Corvallis, OR: Oregon State University Press, 2013), 8.

[3] NAGPRA, 25 USC § 3001(3), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[4] NAGPRA, 25 USC § 3001(3), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[5] NAGPRA, 25 USC § 3001(3), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[6] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[7] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[8] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[9] Devon A. Mihesuah, “American Indians, Anthropologists, Pothunters, and Repatriation: Ethical, Religious, and Political Differences,” in Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian Remains, ed. Devon A. Mihesuah (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 123–68.

[10] Devon A. Mihesuah, “American Indians, Anthropologists, Pothunters, and Repatriation: Ethical, Religious, and Political Differences.” 

[11] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[12] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[13] National Museum of the American Indian. “Repatriation.” Accessed October 2, 2023. https://americanindian.si.edu/explore/repatriation.; Fenton, William N. “Return of Eleven Wampum Belts to the Six Nations Iroquois Confederacy on Grand River, Canada.” Ethnohistory 36, no. 4 (1989): 392–410. https://doi.org/10.2307/482654.

[14] 43 CFR § 10.2 (d)(2), https://www.nps.gov/subjects/nagpra/upload/Existing-Regulation.pdf.

[15] Suozzo, Ash Ngu, Andrea. “Does Your Local Museum or University Still Have Native American Remains?” ProPublica, January 11, 2023. https://projects.propublica.org/repatriation-nagpra-database/.

 

Article by: Madeline Smith

MA Candidate, History and Museum Studies

Tufts University ’24

Repatriating Roadblocks: The Case of the Kenyan Vigango Memorial Posts

March 13, 2019 / / 0 Comments

In November of 2018, French President Emmanuel Macron made headlines (and shook the museum world) when he released a report detailing the restitution of “African cultural heritage to Africa” from French museums long known for their collections of sub-Saharan objects. He called for the swift return of twenty-six royal Dahomey works of art back to Benin, objects that were taken to France in the late nineteenth century as a result of colonial expeditions.

Conversations concerning such Benin objects have often dominated restitution debates focused on African culture – but what other countries from the continent are also seeking the return of their tangible heritage? One case study that has recently lost political steam is that of the vigango memorial posts from the Mijikenda peoples of Kenya. Considered Kenya’s cultural patrimony, vigango memorial posts are tall and narrow “spirit markers” made of wood that resemble an abstracted male body, often incised with repeating geometric patterns and painted.

Example of a kigango (the singular form of vigango)
Photo credit: Denver Museum of Nature and Science

Sometimes up to nine feet in height, vigango memorial posts represent deceased male members of the Gohu society, individuals who were known in their communities for both their wisdom and wealth. Once installed, vigango are never to be removed or disturbed, as they represent the “incarnation of the deceased” and continue to play a central role in Mijikenda communities, such as preventing misfortune.

Despite their communal importance and efficacy, vigango have long been subject to theft and exportation among art dealers and collectors abroad. In 2007, for instance, it was estimated that over four hundred vigango had entered the collections of some nineteen museums across the United States, with often questionable acquisition histories. The debate involving the repatriation of vigango is complicated, involving Mijikenda youth seeking a quick profit, unsigned UNESCO deals, and art market/museum ethics. A recent exposé in African Arts estimated that a kigango (the singular form of vigango) could fetch anywhere between $150,000-$250,000 if placed on auction today (in comparison to $5000 each at a 2012 Paris auction).

While the Denver Museum of Nature and Science recently tried to repatriate thirty of its vigango, the memorial posts never left the United States due to an unexpected and exorbitant tariff that would have been charged at Nairobi’s Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (the tariff is equivalent to USD $47,000). Unfortunately for this costly reason, several vigango that were repatriated from California State University, Fullerton in 2014 currently sit in a crate in the airport’s customs’ shed. Although the vigango may be back in their country of origin, no institution involved in their return intend to pay the tariff fees. Until a solution is agreed upon, the vigango will remain in political limbo.

Adventures in Repatriation: Around the World and Down the Street

December 6, 2018 / / 2 Comments

 

Last month, the Medford Public Library, in the town where Tufts University is located, announced an auction of “surplus goods”. The goods turned out to be a number of Native American religious objects, including shaman’s masks and rattles and a totem pole, all of considerable monetary value. The items were donated to the library in the 1880s by James G. Swan, a Medford-born collector of Native American objects, long before the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) was passed in the 1990s. The auction was halted by the mayor of Medford, Stephanie M. Burke, after public outcry organized by American Indian groups took hold.

Even though NAGPRA governs ownership and repatriation of sacred indigenous objects and remains in the hands of institutions that receive federal funds, not all organizations have completed the required inventory of objects that apply to this law. An incident like this might have happened and could still happen anywhere in the country. Native American object collecting was incredibly popular in the late 19th century, as indigenous people were thought to be “vanishing” as the conquest of the American continent completed. It is entirely likely that similar collections exist unprocessed in the archives of other libraries, schools, or museums across the country, and that more attempts to auction goods may take place in the future against a background of dwindling federal funds for cultural institutions.

Controversies around objects stolen from indigenous, colonized, and otherwise disempowered people around the world are making news every day now, in a flood that is by turns both reparative and dismaying. Under reparative, the President of France, Emanuel Macron, recently announced the planned return of 26 works of Dahomey art to the Benin government, who formally requested their return a number of years ago. Macron suggested that more such repatriations would be forthcoming, an important step in acknowledging the role France had in the destructive colonization of Africa in the 19th century.

Under dismaying, however, one can find any number of refusals including the famed Benin Bronzes or the Kohinoor Diamond, all of which remain in British hands for now. But changes may be underway. Not only are governments demanding the return of cultural objects from colonizing countries, in some cases countries or individuals are stealing objects out of the Western museums that keep them. Private citizens are also forming groups to wage social media campaigns that pressure institutions to return works to home countries.

As technology and globalization conspire to shrink the world, the call to return wrongfully obtained objects will only grow louder. Amid the din, protests and refusals from governments and institutions still holding ill-gotten treasures will sound like the weak excuses they are. In an attempt to counter tours that highlight illicit artworks at the British Museum, the museum has developed a series of lectures that focus on the proper provenance of many works originating in other countries. While any move toward transparency is positive, telling a partial story designed to improve an organization’s credibility while ignoring the larger issue the institution is complicit in is marginally laudable. With some luck and a lot of guilt and outcry, however, the public can keep pushing this important conversation to a place of resolution, rather than obfuscation.

The Pillaging of Cultural Patrimony: Who Does Art Belong To?

August 13, 2018 / / 3 Comments

This week, the British Museum announced that it would return eight looted artifacts of antiquity to Iraq’s National Museum. These objects, including a 4,000 year old clay-fired cone inscribed in cuneiform, were illegally taken from the country following the US-led Iraq invasion in 2003. While thousands of priceless objects of Mesopotamian cultural heritage remain missing, the return of these eight signal a positive “win” for cultural materials often subject to global discussions concerning repatriation and restitution.

The debate is complicated, involving questionable permits, unethical archaeological practices, colonial coercion tactics, nation-state laws, and of course, money. Is there ever truly an owner when it comes to great art and if so, who would it be? The one who created it, the one who bought it, the one who found it, or the one who restored it? These imperative questions are just some of many involving issues of repatriation and restitution of cultural materials in museums around the world. From the Bust of Queen Nefertiti (originally from Egypt but currently on display in Berlin) to the thousands of artworks looted under the Third Reich, the controversies surrounding these cultural materials are complex, emotional, and anything but straightforward.

The Elgin Marbles often receive the most public attention in repatriation conversations, probably because museums fear the Marbles’ return to Athens could set the stage for countless other cultural objects to be repatriated too. With an impressive archaeological museum right down the hill from the Acropolis, as well as the equipment, teams, space, and funding available to properly care for and display the Parthenon sculptures, I am in favor of their repatriation. However, many fear that returning a culture’s heritage back to its country of origin possibly means putting the objects at risk of iconoclasm or destruction.

For instance, the Antalya Museum in Turkey has been attempting unsuccessfully to ensure the return of the Sion Treasure, a precious set of silver and gold liturgical objects from Byzantium, currently on display at Dumbarton Oaks in Washington, D.C. The Turkish government has argued the patens, crosses, and candlesticks in the collection are their rightful property, and that they should be returned. Similar to the Elgin Marbles, their legal acquisition into an American museum provokes further scrutiny. The silver was first discovered buried on a hillside in Kumluca, in southwestern Turkey, where it may have been hidden for protection in response to Arab raids. Due to unauthorized excavations and black market traders, the objects eventually found their way onto American ground illegally.

Despite this, many art historians and museum professionals argue the Sion Treasure should stay in D.C. Dumbarton Oaks spent thousands of dollars restoring the flattened and shattered pieces of the set, the condition in which they arrived at the Museum. There it was lovingly restored to its original brilliance and luster, safeguarded and protected, and displayed for the thousands of tourists who have visited this museum each year.

Should cultural objects reside in a place that is most accessible to the public? The past belongs to all of humanity; is it our right to be able to see and enjoy art objects in the place that is most safe? (Antalya is close to Syria, where a significant amount of art objects have already been lost due to deliberate demolition.) As the cultural theorist Kwame Anthony Appiah has stated, the “rule should be one that protects the object and makes it available to people who will benefit from experiencing it.”[1] When it comes to displaying antiquities with a contentious provenance, does it come down to the “greater good?”

What are your thoughts?

[1] Kwame Anthony Appiah, “Whose Culture is it?,” 4, (https://www.nybooks.com/articles/2006/02/09/whose-culture-is-it/).

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