Imagine that your landlord writes a letter for an acquaintance that says that the friend is entitled to take a look around your place. If, in the process of looking, he finds something that captures his eye, he should just take it. Then, when you complain to the friend, they say don’t worry about. I’ll be able to take better care of your stuff than you can. If you ask to see the letter, the friend says that he has lost it but no fear; honestly he did have it once. This is the situation that Greece, playing the wronged tenant found itself in, in the early 1800s. At this time, Greece was merely a province, one of many, of the vast Ottoman Empire (playing the role of the landlord). The Ottomans gave Lord Elgin (the friend), the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, a free pass to look around Athens . Elgin found his way to the Acropolis and there, the friezes that adorned the Parthenon, captured his imagination. He had them removed and shipped back to mother England. The collection of friezes became known as Elgin’s marbles and when he ran into some money trouble (some versions say that he did it from the goodness of his heart), he sold his collection to the British government who in turn gifted it to the National Museum. This is where the marbles still sit today, amid much tension and acrimony.
Lord Elgin first went to Greece as Ambassador in 1798. He was clearly interested in the Parthenon from the start- this was a period when classical studies were very fashionable. His interest can be seen by the fact that he asked several members of the government if they would be interested in casts or sketches of the statues- no official interest was forthcoming. On arrival, Lord Elgin soon started making casts and drawings of the sculptures. It was from this time onwards that his intentions became murkier. Apparently, he noticed that some statues had been recently (in the past years, recent is a relative term when you’re talking about Greek history) lost, or rather they had been recycled, broken down for their lime content and used in gardens around Greece and the Ottoman Empire. In 1801, Elgin actively started to remove friezes and other statues from the Parthenon and ship them back home, a process completed by 1812. This was done under the authorisation of the Sultan, although no Ottoman copies of the letter have survived. Indeed, the only document purported to show the authorisation is an Italian translation, apparently owned by a friend of Elgin.
The Acropolis is on the top of the hill in the centre of the picture. |
At the Parthenon |
Dull is the eye that will not weep to see
Thy walls defaced, thy mouldering shrines removed
By British hands, which it had best behoved
To guard those relics ne'er to be restored.
Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved,
And once again thy hapless bosom gored,
And snatch'd thy shrinking gods to northern climes abhorred!
While there were detractors, high profile and influential ones at that, Elgin and his marbles proved to be a big hit with the British public. After initial discussions with the British government failed in 1811, he was able to convince the British House of Commons by a vote of 82-30 to buy the collection from him in 1816, for the tidy sum of 35,000 pounds. They were then given to the British Museum for safekeeping. They proved a hit with the punters with record crowds flocking to see them. And there they have stayed, despite Greek claims for their return that have only gotten louder as time goes by.
The Acropolis itself still dominates the landscape of central Athens. It’s an awesome sight to look up and see it perched on the hill, 3,000 odd years of history where Socrates may have once talked and angered people, where the genesis of modern day democracy happened. You can't help but let your attention drift up to it, whether you are eating a delicious Greek meal (there are many), exploring the back streets and shops or just taking a stroll. The Acropolis has been under restoration since the 1970s. Today, a large crane stands as an eyesore in the middle of the Parthenon. Scaffolding covers other aspects of this iconic building (as it does of many of the historic buildings in Europe).
The Elgin marbles in the British Museum, London. |
Under renovation. |
So why won’t Britain return the marbles to Greece. Some arguments are made to say that the Greeks can’t be trusted with them, that pollution in Athens would have destroyed them (ignoring the fact that some restoration done in Britain significantly damaged some of the marbles); that over half of the original marbles are lost and the rest are too fragile to transport; that the marbles were obtained legally, it was just that the Ottoman Empire rather than the Greeks themselves that was the authority who agreed to their release. Other arguments centre around the fact that the British museum has collections from all around the world, acting as a sort of highlights package for world culture. Fears that fulfilling Greece’s claim would also lead to an emptying of museums in North America and Europe, museum collections made in many cases through the plundering and purchase of stolen or shadily acquired goods. The Berlin Museum, for one, will be watching closely. It holds the bust of Nefertiti, a famous Egyptian bust either taken legally or via shady means by a German archeologist (depending on your point of view) that is now an icon of both Germany and Egypt. It has featured on Berlin postcards and on German postage stamps and has been described as the ancient world’s most famous bust of ancient art, only rivaled by that of Tutankhamen (which Egypt has possession of).
The bust of Nefertiti has been in Germany since 1913, a year after it was discovered in a dig by a joint German-Egyptian group, although it was not displayed to the public until 1924, further highlighting the idea that it was probably taken in somewhat of a dishonest manner. Egypt has been demanding the return of the bust since this time. It survived much of World War 2 hidden in bunkers around Berlin, before being placed in a salt-mine towards the end of the war where it was discovered by American troops (thankfully not Russian) in 1945. It was then given back to the Germans, with the Americans ignoring pleas from the Egyptians that it should be repatriated back to Egypt. It has been displayed in museums around Germany ever since. Even Hitler, ever the politician, was seduced by the bust. When Goering suggested in 1933 that the bust should be returned to Egypt, Hitler told the Egyptian government that he would build a new Egyptian museum for Nefertiti: "In the middle, this wonder, Nefertiti, will be enthroned, ... I will never relinquish the head of the Queen."
The bust of Nefertiti-safe and sound in Berlin |
Greece has made repeated pleas for the return of the Elgin marbles. Despite the many reasons given for their retention in Britain, one of the main reasons the National Museum and by proxy the British Government have is that Britain best knows how to preserve Greece’s heritage (such a view would only have been strengthened by the failure of the Greek economy). A cynic would say that it comes down to less altruistic reasons and has more to do with the fear that a big drawcard would leave the British museum and perhaps take with it other treasures in an later day domino effect. I feel that this is closer to the truth than any other of the excuses given by the Brits and is an extension of paternalism and imperialism that is best left in the past.