Theft of artifacts in British Museum

Welcome to the British Museum, renowned as the world's largest repository of global history. Each year, it magnetizes millions of visitors from all corners of the globe. Within its walls, the museum safeguards an impressive collection of over eight million cultural and historical artifacts that span a staggering two million years of human history.

The British Museum's recommended "must-see" list includes star attractions like the ancient Easter Island sculpture, dating back a millennium, and a bronze sculpture portraying the Hindu deity Shiva. However, a hidden predicament lurks within the museum's archives, exemplified by the path you'll traverse. Astonishingly, nearly half of the twelve highlighted pieces on this route are objects of contested ownership.

The British Museum asserts that these items rightfully belong there, accessible for the world to admire. Yet, in recent times, a growing movement has emerged, striving to repatriate these artifacts to their countries of origin. This debate over whether cultural treasures should return to their homelands or remain in Western museums has sparked intense discussions regarding rightful ownership.

To comprehend this issue, we must delve into historical context. In the late 1600s, the British Empire embarked on its expansive journey, ultimately becoming the largest empire in history, governing a quarter of the world's land and populace. Over centuries, the empire amassed not only resources and wealth but also cultural and historical treasures from nations worldwide. Many of these treasures found their way into the British Museum, established in 1753, which continuously expanded to house its ever-growing collection.

While some items in the museum were acquired legally and are uncontested, such as a two-thousand-year-old Roman base acquired from a duke in 1945, controversy surrounds others. For instance, the Rosetta Stone, one of the first objects encountered upon entering the museum, was seized by British troops from French forces in what is now Egypt. Further inside, the Parthenon sculptures, removed from the Acropolis in Athens by a British lord, now reside in the British Museum. On the dedicated floor for African art, the Benin bronzes, among the most contentious exhibits, spark heated debates.

The Benin bronzes encompass a diverse array of items, including engraved ivory tusks, brass sculptures, and plaques, all originating from the Kingdom of Benin in present-day Nigeria. These artifacts, dating from the 1500s, adorned palace walls and played crucial roles in religious rituals. They functioned as visual records of the kingdom's history, given its absence of a written script.

In 1897, Benin experienced a significant upheaval. European colonial powers, in their pursuit of African territories during the "Scramble for Africa," sought financial gain and divided the continent into spheres of influence. Benin, located within Britain's sphere of influence, resisted British trade demands. In response, a British punitive expedition, motivated not only by retribution but also economic incentives, was launched. British soldiers, armed with machine guns, conquered the city, looting thousands of cultural artifacts. These treasures were meticulously cataloged, photographed, and sold worldwide.

Benin, once prosperous, fell under British colonial control until Nigeria, including the city of Benin, gained independence in 1960. Nevertheless, their historical artifacts remained scattered across Western institutions, including the Leipzig Museum of Ethnology in Germany, the Quai Branly Museum in Paris, and the British Museum.

For many Nigerians, the journey to witness these magnificent objects at institutions like the British Museum is arduous, requiring visas and significant travel. In 2000, Benin's royal family officially requested the return of all unlawfully taken cultural property, but the British Museum has largely disregarded such pleas, citing governmental restrictions that prohibit restitution. In July 2020, the museum emphasized its commitment to lending items widely, including to Nigeria, maintaining that its value lies in being a global repository.

However, critics, including Professor Chika Okeke-Agulu, an art historian and professor from Nigeria, argue that the British Museum still operates with a colonial mindset, collecting objects of dubious provenance. Some initiatives, like the return of artifacts by descendants of those involved in the 1897 expedition and the formation of the Benin Dialogue Group in 2007, aim to address this issue. Nevertheless, as of now, none of the Benin bronzes have been repatriated.

This dilemma extends beyond the Benin bronzes. Hundreds of contested items in the British Museum and other Western institutions bear similar stories. These disputes encompass not just objects but also questions of cultural and historical identity, igniting debates about rightful ownership. This undertaking is a long-term project, one that may surpass our lifetimes. Nevertheless, the imperative is clear: it is time to commence the process of cultural reconstitution without further delay.