Raiding the Past: What Future for Antiquities?
by Lane Jennings
Who has the right to own, display, or sell historic objects?
It's an old story, and a sad one. In humanity's mad rush to build a proud future and
make the present more secure, many grand achievements of the past are tossed aside, left
to disappear forever. History is full of cases where pillagers and vandals tear down or
carry off the monuments of a defenseless or undervalued past.
Not only do conquering armies seek plunder, but so do individuals. Ordinary people,
struggling to survive in poverty near sites where powerful and wealthy peoples once
flourished, treat the relics of past glories as raw material for new construction, or
simply a potential source of cash.
Serious efforts to protect ancient monuments and to collect and preserve artifacts for
careful study effectively began in 1798 when Napoleon Bonaparte brought a team of
scientists along with his army invading Egypt. Over the next two centuries, U.S. and
European governments, universities, museums, and wealthy collectors financed many
expeditions to discover, record, and acquire (sometimes for money, sometimes by force)
ancient objects, human remains, works of art, and even entire buildings.
Today, it is easy to dismiss such "fieldwork" as simply acts of arrogance
toward peoples too poor or too weak to resist effectively. Certainly many governments,
museums, and research institutes have changed their policies. And some have now begun
restoring certain items and apologizing for past actions. But there is another side to
this kind of looting.
The foreign institutions and collectors who are accused of stealing many ancient
objects often saved them from destruction or slow decay. And the true significance of many
sites and artifacts might never have been known without the careful handling and study
they received from Western experts.
Respect for local heritage has spread and deepened as more nations have gained
independence and a sense of common identity. Yet, even today, wherever ancient peoples
once lived, worked, and buried their dead, individuals and organized bands are digging for
objects to carry off and sell. In the process, they may obscure or completely erase the
history of the objects they uncover.
Now and then a treasure hoard of precious metal objects or a large statue may be
uncovered by professional archaeologists in the field or offered at auction. But most of
the antiquities trade today involves individuals of relatively modest means who simply
want a small piece of the past to show off and admire.
Through online sites and mail order catalogs, art and antiquities dealers offer
everything from Egyptian mummy beads to Roman coins, from Mayan pottery to African masks.
Serious collectors and casual shoppers alike can buy an ancient Greek wine jar or an
Etruscan vase as easily as any modern painting or print. Past efforts to stop looting have
included guarding important sites, banning the sale or export of ancient artifacts and
major works of art, and using customs authorities and police to check that buyers,
sellers, and collectors all display reliable documentation to prove they are not in
possession of stolen goods.
But none of these measures has been fully effective. As art and cultural reporter Roger
Atwood states in his recent book, Stealing History, "The biggest obstacle to
stopping the looting of the ancient world is overcoming the feeling that it is inevitable
. . . [that] as long as there are rich buyers, there will always be poor looters willing
to supply them."
Given the present rate of worldwide looting, Atwood calculates that, within decades,
only a handful of tourist-thronged, highly publicized, and heavily protected ancient sites
will remain. "The day is not far off," he warns, "when an archaeologist can
go through an entire career without seeing a single unpillaged site."
To avoid this future, Atwood urges coordinated action by international agencies,
national governments, professionals in the antiquities trade, museums, and private
collectors. His specific recommendations include:
- A five-year global ban on the sale of any antiquity not clearly proven to have been
legally obtained before 1970 or officially licensed for export from its country of origin.
- The indefinite suspension of all trade in undocumented objects made of gold and silver.
- Emergency import restrictions by the U.S. Congress to prevent wholesale looting of
antiquities from countries in turmoil.
Atwood argues that such efforts would be made more effective if museums and governments
in antiquities-rich countries would agree to "surplus" some of the interesting
but relatively common items they often hold in permanent storage. Selling some of these
items—fully documented—to dealers and collectors could help fund local
archaeology and preservation work. It would also effectively set a new world standard for
legal documentation in the antiquities trade. Too often, blanket laws preventing any work
of art or ancient object from ever leaving its country of origin simply encourage looting,
smuggling, and black-market dealing.
Still another way of preserving artifacts for future generations suggests itself: To
safely satisfy those people who buy antiquities primarily as decorative objects, some
museum stores and galleries already sell licensed reproductions. This approach could be
expanded so that modern crafts workers would be trained to recreate ancient artifacts,
even using traditional methods and materials. This would not only supply more beautiful
and useful objects of ancient design, but also revive the practical skills and ingenuity
of ancient artists.
And why does any of this matter? Perhaps because the true significance of past events
and cultures cannot easily be grasped if all we have to make them real to us are words and
images—nothing to touch or feel. After all, look how hard it is for many people to
think seriously about the future, which no one can see or touch.
Source: Stealing History: Tomb Raiders, Smugglers, and the Looting of the Ancient
World by Roger Atwood. St. Martin's Press. 2004. 320 pages. $25.95.
To order the print edition of the May-June
2006 issue of THE FUTURIST ($4.95 plus $3 postage and handling) or to become a member of the World
Future Society ($49 per year).
