Contributed by Ryan J. Wheeler
June brought a family trip to London, including a visit to the British Museum. Many websites list the top ten items that you should not miss at the museum, and the British Museum itself has a leaflet with their recommended highlights. The British Museum is sort of ground zero for archaeology, anthropology, and colonialism, as well as mounting calls for repatriation (many people are surprised that the British Museum is prevented from repatriating cultural items by law, and can only deaccession items that are deemed duplicates, damaged, or no longer of public interest). A surprise was a number of pieces by contemporary artists that stand in juxtaposition to items from the past. It was particularly neat to encounter several ceramic pieces by Diego Romero in the case along with older and ancient pieces of Pueblo pottery. After the visit, I decided that I’d shared my own British Museum top ten list and my own repatriation recommendations.
No. 1 Hoa Hakananai’a (meaning ‘lost, hidden, or stolen friend’)
Hoa Hakananai’a is one of two Moai from Rapa Nui (Easter Island) held by the British Museum. According the exhibit text, both Moai were taken from Rapa Nui in 1868 by Commodore Richard Powell and the crew of a British survey ship, HMS Topaze. The Admiralty presented Hoa Hakananai’a to Queen Victoria, who ultimately gave him to the British Museum, rejoining Moai Hava, who went directly from the Admiralty to the museum. Near the base of the colossal figure of Hoa Hakananai’a are offerings made by representatives from Rapa Nui. The Rapa Nui requested repatriation in 2019 and the exhibit text explains that conversations about return are ongoing.
Should the British Museum repatriate Hoa Hakananai’a and Moai Hava? Yes.
No. 2 Parthenon Marbles
Perhaps central to requests for repatriation of cultural items from the British Museum are the sculpted frieze panels from the Parthenon–long called the Elgin Marbles, after the individual who originally took the panels. These impressive carvings once adorned the Parthenon–the Temple of Athena–on the Acropolis in Athens and date from nearly 2,500 years ago. The pamphlets that are usually available to explain why the panels shouldn’t be repatriated were all gone by the time we were there, but the British Museum website explains, “It is universally recognised that the sculptures that survive are best seen and conserved in museums.” Is it? The website goes on to note that in 2009, a new museum was constructed in Athens to showcase the panels. Greece has asked for the return of the carvings numerous times. Two notes from our visit. First, our friend Bill, a big comic and graphic novel connoisseur, noted that the so-called “South Metopes,” the panels depicting a battle between centaurs and Lapiths at the marriage feast of Peirithoos, followed the graphic, sequential storytelling now best known from comic books. Once he pointed this out, it completely changed my appreciation for the panels. Secondly, if you look out the windows of Gallery 18, where the sculptures and carvings are exhibited, you could see someone making breakfast in a flat directly behind the museum. I found the juxtaposition of these culturally and politically charged items with the quotidian of daily life to bring the entire, global conversation about the marbles into stark relief.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Parthenon Marbles? Yes.
No. 3 Hopewell platform pipes
I’m definitely deviating from the top ten lists provided by the British Museum and other writers at this point, but for a student of archaeology of the Southeastern United States, I was really looking forward to seeing the Hopewell platform pipes. The Hopewell pipes, of stone, with beautifully carved birds and animals in miniature, were removed from Mound City in Ohio by E.G. Squier and Edwin Davis–remember Squier and Davis? Authors of 1848’s Ancient Monuments of the Mississippi Valley, one of the earliest archaeological publications of the Smithsonian Institution, sent this remarkable group of nearly fifty carvings abroad. According to the catalog for the 1977 exhibition Sacred Circles, “These little sculptures have a meaning that far outstrips their size. One feels their importance. It has something to do with the salient presentation of each animal, quail, hawk, bear, panther, snake, beaver or squirrel.” Acknowledging the high arts, architecture, and far-flung influences of the Hopewell, UNESCO recently designated eight of these monumental earthwork complexes as world heritage sites. Many institutions in the United States hold material heritage of Hopewell, and consultation with Tribes and Nations, as well as affiliations are beginning to happen.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Hopewell platform pipes? Yes.
No. 4 Sutton Hoo ship burial
I was excited to see the items from the seventh century Sutton Hoo ship burial. In 1939, in Suffolk, avocational archaeologist Basil Brown worked with landowner Edith Pretty to excavate the remains of an Anglo-Saxon ship burial, including a trove of weapons and jewels, including gold and garnet items and a fabulous portrait helmet of iron and copper alloy, that some have thought might be King Raedwald of East Anglia.
Many learned a little about Sutton Hoo from the 2021 Netflix movie The Dig starring Carey Mulligan and Ralph Fiennes. Sadly The Dig didn’t tell us much about the discovery or the project itself, even changing elements of the story and characters, like Mercie Lack and Barbara Wagstaff, teachers and amateur photographers who volunteered to help and captured amazing images of the fragile and rapidly deteriorating find (they became a man in the movie–why?). Okay, so, you probably are thinking Sutton Hoo, Suffolk, solidly in England, no question of repatriation, right? Well, a 2020 blog on Cultural Restitution called for the return of the Sutton Hoo helmet and other items from the ship burial to regional and local museums. The blog, based on an argument forwarded by historian James Barr, notes all the reasons the British Museum would oppose such a repatriation–Edith Pretty donated the items to the museum, the 1963 act that prohibits repatriation, as well as environmental and ethical concerns. Interestingly, we encountered a similar position in 2014 after the Peabody Institute of Archaeology’s repatriation of Mesolithic era painted pebbles to France’s National Museum of Archaeology (Édouard Piette, who had discovered the pebbles and donated them to the national museum, stipulated that they should never leave the so-called Piette Room). We felt pretty good about the repatriation, but upon visiting the area where the pebbles were found, locals complained that the pebbles weren’t coming home to them, but rather hoarded in Paris. Hmmm, good questions.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Sutton Hoo ship burial? Yes.
No. 5 Lewis Chessmen
A gallery or two over from Sutton Hoo and you find the twelfth century Lewis Chessmen, carved of walrus ivory and found in the nineteenth century in the Outer Hebribean Isle of Lewis in Scotland. Some went to the National Museum of Scotland–we saw them on our trip in 2017–but the bulk were sold to the British Museum. The source of the ivory and where the figures were made (maybe Norway!) is debated, but they are delightful, including berserkers chomping on their shields and queens doing what only could be described as a medieval face palm. You might think, wait, these are from the UK, so all good for the British Museum to keep, right? I wasn’t too surprised, however, to see that there have been efforts to return the chessmen not only to Scotland, but in 2010 Scottish MP Angus MacNeil called for the chessmen to return to Museum nan Eilean (museum of the islands) at Lews Castle in Stornoway, the major town of the Outer Hebrides. A 2017 Global Heritage blog post notes, “Recognition that the Lewis Chessmen are part of the heritage of the Western Isles of Scotland has come in the last few years after much lobbying, when the British Museum decided to loan six chess pieces to the Museum nan Eilean.”
Should the British Museum repatriate the Lewis Chessmen? Yes.
No. 6 Rosetta Stone
The Rosetta Stone is sort of like the British Museum’s Mona Lisa–a lot of people were crammed in to get a look and it’s a little smaller than you think it will be. A group of young men in their 20s did a selfie. The Rosetta Stone includes translations of a text in three writing systems–classical hieroglyphics, Demotic script (a simplified hieroglyphics), and Ancient Greek. This allowed nineteenth century scholars–especially French archaeologist Jean-Francois Champollion–to crack the code of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, earning the Rosetta Stone a place in archaeology’s top ten. In 2022, Monica Hanna, dean at the Arab Academy for Science, Technology & Maritime Transportation, organized a petition calling for the repatriation of the Rosetta Stone, noting, “the British Museum’s holding of the stone is a symbol of Western cultural violence against Egypt.” The petition garnered over 4,000 signatures. Zahi Hawass, well-known Egyptian archaeologist–circulated a similar petition–which got over 100,000 signatures. According to reporting in 2022, the British Museum argued that an 1801 treaty included legally transferred ownership of the famous tablet.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Rosetta Stone? Yes.
No. 7 North West palace of Ashurnasirpal gate
Of all the cultural treasures housed at the British Museum, the Ashurnasirpal gate is perhaps one of the most striking. I first learned about these massive carvings of winged human-headed lions (or lamassu) guardians from the royal palace at Nimrud (modern northern Iraq) in grad school. The late Barbara Barletta taught a fantastic art history course on Ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt. The tests were very different from those in archaeology, and were based around projected slides that corresponded to questions on the test. I became proficient at making quick sketches in my notes so I could keep track of which architectural features and cultural items were which. Erected during the reign of neo-Assyrian king Ashurnasirpal II, almost 3,000 years ago, the figure was excavated by Sir Austen Henry Layard in 1851. A similar, perhaps matching figure is at the Met in New York. I can’t find any specific calls for repatriation by governments of Iraq, but they have been increasingly involved in the return of looted cultural items, including cuneiform tablets that landed at the Museum of the Bible and Cornell University. In 2023 Iraqi-American artist Michael Rakowitz offered his 2018 sculpture The Invisible Enemy Should Not Exist–his version of a massive lamassu–in exchange for repatriation of the Ashurnasirpal carving. An article about Rakowitz’s offer indicate that he specifically wanted to see the return of the Ashurnasirpal carving to respond to the destruction of a lamassu dating to 700 BCE at the Nergal Gate in Nineveh, which was purposely destroyed by the Islamic State in 2015.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Ashurnasirpal gate? Yes.
No. 8 Aztec serpent pectoral
The serpent pectoral is one of several turquoise mosaics from Mesoamerica associated with the Aztec and Mixtec of central Mexico, dating from 1,400 to 1,521. Carved of cedar wood, the undulating body of the double-headed serpent is covered with an intricate mosaic of turquoise and shell. The back side is flat, and unadorned, leading most to describe this as a pectoral, which could have been worn suspended on the chest of a person or larger statue. A catalog note by Vila Llonch notes, “The Nahuatl term ‘coatl’ can be translated as both serpent and twin. The Mexica considered serpents to be powerful, multifaceted creatures that could bridge the spheres (the underworld, water and sky) owing to their physical and mythical characterisitics.” Joshua Fitzgerald offers another interpretation, suggesting the pectoral is not a snake, but rather a caterpillar, representing less bad omens, and more a physical representation of how to think about life stages. The pectoral was purchased by the British Museum from a dealer, representing “an Italian gentleman” in 1894, after considerable negotiations about the price, as well as intrigue involving Duchessa Massimo (Teresa Maria Doria-Pamphili-Landi) and the Massimo Family of Rome. It’s almost impossible to look at a book about the Aztecs or Mesoamerican archaeology without encountering the mosaic pectoral–it’s famous! I can’t find specific instances of Mexico calling for the return of the mosaic pectoral, but a 2022 article by Amah-Rose Abrams points out increasing opposition by Mexico to international auctions, as well as a legacy of protecting cultural heritage from pilfering and removal that dates back to at least 1911, following the Mexican Revolution. In that piece, Mexico’s culture minister, Alejandra Frausto Guerrero, is quoted, stating “any piece of national heritage that is permanently outside the country, not temporarily for an exhibition or cultural cooperation, comes from an illegal act.”
Should the British Museum repatriate the Aztec serpent pectoral? Yes.
No. 9 Nisga’a house pole
Two house poles–what many might call totem poles–occupy an area near where you can have lunch at the British Museum. One is Haida, the other Nisga’a, from Angeedaw on the Nass River in British Columbia. I was particularly interested to see the Nisga’a house pole, since a presentation at the November 2023 AAIA repatriation conference highlighted the rematriation of another Nisga’a house pole from the National Museums of Scotland. Both pts’ann were taken by anthropologist Marius Barbeau, who was commissioned to acquire these items from the UK museums. The online entry for the Nisga’a pole includes this text:
The receipt in the Canadian Museum reads: ‘M.Barbeau Nass River Aug 30 1932. [To] Smith and his clan For totem pole of Eagle-Beaver, their property, which they cede in complete clan agreement without further claim (assuming responsibility of division of price between themselves) to M.Barbeau for his disposal according to authority received. Received payment in full (signed) William Smith his mark. (witness) Albert Allen. $310’ The difference in sale and cost figures being accounted for by travel and other expenses?
Apparently, similar documents exist for the rematriated pts’ann, but family stories contradict the receipted account, according to an October 17, 2023 story in IndigiNews. That story–and the presentations at the November repatriation conference–explained that these pts’ann were carved as memorials to deceased family members and are considered more than objects, but as ancestors themselves. The Angeedaw pts’ann is about 25 feet tall with carvings of mythological creatures, an eagle, and beavers.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Nisga’a house pole? Yes.
No 10 Citico shell gorget
Note–I’m not including any images of the shell gorget, as this is so clearly a funerary item.
In a case near the Hopewell pipes described above was a beautiful example of a Citico style shell gorget. I was surprised to encounter this cultural item at the British Museum, as I had become quite familiar with these objects in repatriation work here at the Robert S. Peabody Institute of Archaeology. These gorgets, made from the outer whorl of a large whelk shell and depicting stylized rattlesnakes, appear almost exclusively in burials of the late Mississippian era in the southeastern United States. A similar gorget from Etowah, a major mound complex near Atlanta, Georgia, was on exhibit at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History when I was there last summer. All of the examples from Etowah and Little Egypt here at the Peabody are awaiting repatriation, either as associated or unassociated funerary objects. My degree of familiarity with these gorgets increased in 2018 when we began working with the FBI to recover several stolen shell gorgets–which was partially successful. That work led me to scour publications, auction catalogs, and online auctions for shell gorgets in the hopes of recognizing one of the stolen ones. Helpful in all that is an exhaustive catalog of shell gorgets compiled by Jeffrey P. Brain and Philip Phillips, published by the Harvard Museum Press in 1996. The British Museum example, which apparently came to the museum in 1884 from William Bragge, does not appear in the Brain and Phillips catalog. Bragge was a nineteenth century engineer, antiquarian, and collector, with a specialty in tobacco; the British Museum holds 1,899 objects that are related to Bragge’s collecting efforts, including objects from far-flung Indigenous cultures, often pipes or smoking-related paraphernalia.
Should the British Museum repatriate the Citico shell gorget? Yes.
The Peabody 