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AS A British
parliamentary committee begins, next week, to take oral
evidence in an inquiry into trading in looted antiquities and
the return of cultural objects to their country of origin, a
poll of British MPs conducted by The
Economist shows a surprising degree of support in the
House of Commons for the Greek side of the most controversial
of cultural-return cases—the Elgin marbles in the British
Museum.
Lord Elgin’s
collection of classical antiquities has long been a cause of
dispute between Greece and Britain. The sculptures and
architectural fragments that once decorated the Parthenon, the
temple that looks down on Athens from the top of the
Acropolis, were carved in the fifth century BC
under the direction of Phidias, probably the greatest
classical Greek sculptor. Today more than half the panels from
the frieze, a third of the metope slabs from the
outside of the Parthenon and 17 figures from the
pediments—together representing most of the finest and least
damaged pieces to have survived—are the pride of the British
Museum’s collection of Greek antiquities. The Elgin, or
Parthenon marbles as they are called in Greece, were removed
from the Acropolis on the orders of Lord Elgin, British
ambassador to the Ottoman empire, in the years after 1801.
Some pieces were found in excavations, but most were taken
from the building by Elgin’s agents and a large force of
workmen. Housed in the British Museum since they were
purchased under a British act of Parliament in 1816, their
exile has been a source of hurt to the Greeks ever since Greek
independence.
The struggle
intensified in 1983 when the then culture minister, Melina
Mercouri, called for them to be reunited with the Parthenon
sculptures that remained in Greece. Successive Greek
governments have made the same demand, some more loudly than
others, but all have been told no by Labour and Conservative
prime ministers alike. Three days after Tony Blair took office
in 1997, the new secretary of state for culture, media and
sport, Chris Smith, told the BBC that
returning the Elgin marbles was “not a feasible or sensible
option. We won’t do it.”
Yet the first
newspaper poll to be conducted on this issue since Labour
swept to power in May 1997 shows that a large number of MPs disagree with the government view. A
weighted sample of 183 MPs suggests that
66% of members would return the marbles if there were a free
vote in the House of Commons today. Crucially, nearly 85% of
the Labour and Liberal Democrat MPs who
replied favour returning the sculptures. Only among
Conservatives and Ulster Unionists, who together account for
174 of the 659 seats in the House of Commons, is there any
feeling for keeping the marbles in Britain.
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The poll’s
findings will hearten the Greek prime minister, Costas
Simitis, as much as it will dismay the British Museum and the
British government. Mr Simitis faces a general election on
April 9th, which he called early to seek a mandate for
Greece’s entry into the European single currency. If his Pasok
party wins the election, Mr Simitis will be in office when
Athens hosts the Olympic Games in 2004. Mr Simitis hopes that
Greece’s improved European credentials will help persuade the
British to return the marbles in time for the Olympic Games as
an act of European generosity.
To make sure no
one missed the point, Mr Simitis kicked off his campaign with
a visit to the Acropolis and the site of the proposed new
Acropolis museum where part of the exhibition space will
remain empty until, as one official said, “the British Museum
returns its collection”. Construction has been fraught with
problems, first because of difficulties in compulsorily
purchasing properties around the site, and later when the
discovery of important archaeological remains meant that plans
had to be revised. Mr Simitis has let it be known that he will
be personally involved in selecting a new architect for
it.
In Britain,
meanwhile, the 11 members of the House of Commons select
committee, under the chairmanship of Gerald Kaufman, have
begun their inquiry into the return of cultural objects. The
committee will investigate how Britain might help to restrain
the illicit trade in looted antiquities and will also consider
historic claims. It will travel to Italy to hear about the
trade in stolen antiquities, and, at the end of this month, to
Athens to hear the Greek claim at first hand.
The British
Museum is dismayed at the possibility that the select
committee may be swayed by Greek arguments. A briefing
document, believed to have been written by the museum and
leaked by the Department for Culture, Media and Sport,
describes the committee’s visit to Greece as
“unfortunate”.
The museum takes
heart from the fact that, publicly at least, British
government policy has not changed. Some, however, believe that
the government may be looking for an honourable way out of the
impasse over the sculptures. Both Mr Blair and Mr Smith
declined to take part in The Economist’s poll. Yet in a
letter dated February 17th, Mr Smith referred to the
sculptures as “the Parthenon marbles”, the term by which they
are always known in Greece and among restitutionists,
signalling perhaps that he has more sympathy with the Greek
position than he can admit.
If there is to
be any change in the present status of the Elgin marbles, it
will not be brought about by diplomacy or legal action, but as
a result of political opinion and political change in Britain.
That in turn will depend in large measure on how sophisticated
and persuasive a campaign the two sides are able to mount. Are
the Elgin marbles truly better off as part of the British
Museum’s permanent collection, or should they be reunited with
their remaining fellow sculptures in Athens?
Treasure house
The Parthenon
stands at the highest point of the Acropolis, and was from the
earliest times both a citadel of Athens and a religious
centre. It was erected originally to house the Athenian
treasury and honour the goddess Athena, patron and protectress
of the city. The colonnaded building remained in use as a
temple for 900 years.
What
distinguishes the Parthenon is the dramatic narrative told by
its sculptured frieze which is carved in low relief. The
frieze along the top part of the outside wall of the main
temple, within the outer colonnade, is generally believed to
depict the Panathenaia, the great civic and religious festival
of the city of Athens, held every four years. Among the
figures shown are the 12 Olympian gods and goddesses, the
elders of the city, a procession of troops of idealised
horsemen, and men and women bearing offerings and leading
sacrificial animals.
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By the time Lord
Elgin, was appointed ambassador to the Porte in 1799, part of
the frieze, many of the sculptures in the pediments and a
number of the metopes had been destroyed; some
by Christians who took over the building in the sixth century
and more by a Venetian shell fired into the building while it
was being used as a gunpowder magazine in 1687. A series of
drawings by a French artist named Jacques Carrey made 11 years
earlier are all that remain of ten of the slabs from the
frieze and four of the metopes.
The earliest
firman, or authority, that Lord Elgin obtained from the
Turkish authorities (which is now lost) restricted Elgin’s
agent, Giovanni Battista Lusieri, to drawing the sculptures
and making casts from them in situ. A second firman, of
which only an Italian translation now exists, goes further,
allowing Lord Elgin to remove what is described as
“qualche pezzi di pietra”. Occasionally
translated as “some”, “qualche”, in modern Italian, at
least, is more usually taken to mean “a few”, in part because
it is followed by a singular noun. Whatever the legal
niceties, Lord Elgin’s agents were permitted, over many
months, to use saws, crow bars and naval pulleys, to take off
most of the best surviving pieces and later ship them from
Piraeus, evidence of the Turkish authorities’ willingness to
accommodate their most important ally and of the bribes Elgin
paid to get his way.
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William St
Clair, a British historian and author of the classic, “Lord Elgin and the Marbles: The Controversial
History of the Parthenon Sculptures” (OUP; $16.95 and £12.50), has recently published
extracts from the financial accounts of Lord Elgin’s agent.
These show that bribery amounted to a quarter of the costs of
removing the antiquities. During the first 18 months, Lord
Elgin paid the military governor of the Acropolis a sum
amounting to 35 times his official annual salary in return for
being allowed to stretch the terms of the
firman.
The most
impassioned restitutionists claim that it was only Lord
Elgin’s bribes to an occupying force that led to the
dismemberment of the monument. However, John Henry Merryman,
an emeritus professor of international law at Stanford
University in California, who has studied the case, has
concluded that the firman gave Elgin good title.
Although he believes Elgin’s bribes muddy the waters of the
case, Mr Merryman still feels Greece would be unlikely to win
the marbles back in court. And indeed Greek governments have
avoided making a narrow legal claim.
The British
legal position is in any event more complex than might appear.
Lord Elgin was nearly bankrupt at the time the government
bought the marbles for £35,000. Under the British Museum Act
of July 1st 1816, they were vested in the trustees of the
British Museum in perpetuity, provided they were “preserved
and kept together” in the museum. Early the following year,
they were moved to a temporary exhibition space within the
museum, and in 1961 to the Duveen Gallery where they are now
to be seen. It is not within the power of the British Museum,
or indeed the cabinet alone, to return them; only an act of
Parliament can reverse the government’s acquisition.
The Elgin
marbles were controversial from the start. In 1816, the
parliamentary vote to purchase the sculptures was carried by a
narrow majority, 82 to 80. Since then, British sentiment about
returning them to Greece has been influenced by wider
political considerations. Among the early dissenters was a
small group of MPs who felt that the
marbles had been improperly removed by Lord Elgin and should
be held in trust only until their return was demanded by the
city of Athens. These voices faded as Victorian expansionism
made Britain feel it had become the centre of the civilised
world. And in 1864, when Anglo-Greek relations blossomed after
Britain transferred sovereignty of the Ionian islands to
Greece, even the mildest call for the marbles’ return was
blocked.
After the fall
of France in 1940, however, when Britain needed Greece, the
Foreign Office went as far as to draft a scheme for the
marbles’ return after the war. The military danger passed, and
that plan was shelved. Fresh hints were again dropped during
the Cyprus insurgency in the 1950s when Britain wanted Greece
to stop supporting the terrorist campaign against the British
colonial government on the island. When Labour was in
opposition in the 1980s, Neil Kinnock promised he would return
the marbles to Greece as soon as the party was returned to
power. When Labour won the last election, it quickly told the
Greeks the marbles were staying in Britain.
The British
Museum, like the Louvre though unlike a number of American
museums, cannot deaccession anything it holds. Politically,
the present defence of the status quo combines a claim that
the marbles were legally acquired with the “slippery slope”
argument that, if Britain were to agree to the Greek request,
other nations would mount claims to have other cultural
treasures returned.
There are a
number of other arguments that have been used in Britain to
ensure that public opinion stayed firmly in the retentionists’
camp. The most common are that, if the British hadn’t removed
them, someone else (probably Napoleon) certainly would have
done; that had the marbles remained in Greece they would have
been destroyed because of air pollution and poor stewardship;
and that they have been particularly well cared for by the
British Museum.
Some of
these arguments have been worn thin, if not through. The
museum has not always protected the marbles well; in the late
1930s, for example, they were cleaned by unskilled workmen
using carborundum and wire brushes on the orders of Lord
Duveen, an art dealer and wealthy patron who was planning to
finance a new gallery for the marbles and wanted to make them
appear more white. Details of the botched cleaning, during
which the surfaces of the marbles were badly damaged, and the
subsequent cover-up by the museum were still emerging in
November last year. This particular episode notwithstanding,
the museum has been an excellent guardian. In recent years,
however, developments in Greece have done much to invalidate
the argument that the marbles would be endangered if they were
to be sent back.
Research into
the chemistry of antiquities, conservation and restoration is
probably more advanced in Greece than anywhere else. The work
of an elderly chemistry professor, Theodore Skoulikides, on
reversing the worst effects of pollution on marble surfaces,
and by Manolis Korres on the technology of constructing
ancient buildings, are considered the finest in the world. One
curator at the British Museum insists that, “Because of the
Greeks’ work we know more about the marbles than we have ever
known.” A seven-year restoration project for the Acropolis is
well under way, and has been boosted recently by a loan from
the European Union. The budget has increased from 300m
drachmas ($900,000) in 1997 to 800m this year. Plans are to
stabilise the structure and reconstruct some of the fallen
columns with newly cut marble.
Second, Greek
government efforts to ban the use of cheap heating oil and
low-grade diesel have gone some way to improving the air
quality in the city, though much still needs to be done. The
whole building, including the sculptures that remained in
place, began to suffer badly when atmospheric pollution
increased in the 1960s, and some features were lost to sulphur
dioxide. However, all the pedimental pieces and the west
frieze have now been taken indoors to the museum, some being
replaced with copies. By 1998, however, sulphur-dioxide levels
had decreased, from 200 micrograms per cubic metre to less
than 40. Smoke and nitrous-oxide levels are also
falling.
One point that
no restorationist can deny is that, even if the marbles were
returned to Greece, they would not be returned to the
Parthenon. Indeed, the Greeks have had to take down yet more
sculptures in order to safeguard them from the polluted
environment. Yet the metopes which remain in place,
including the finest which is in the best surviving corner of
the building, are deteriorating, and no one in Greece seems to
want to be responsible for taking a decision that might mean
dismantling part of the 2,500-year-old building. Furthermore,
with little exhibition space available, many of the pieces
that have been removed are not yet on display.
The new
Acropolis museum could change all that. Originally designed
eight years ago by a firm of Italian architects, the museum
was to have included large exhibition halls and a clear view
of the Parthenon through an exhibition window in the roof. The
museum will now be completely redesigned. A new architect will
be chosen in May, with full drawings due by September. Even if
construction were to start on schedule, a year from now, it is
extremely unlikely the building will be finished in time for
the Olympics.
Despite that,
the British Museum is growing nervous about the possibility of
losing what it regards as the centrepiece of its permanent
collection. It worries that the select committee inquiry may
stoke up public support for return to a point where the Greek
claim is hard to resist. Both the museum and the Department
for Culture, Media and Sport regard the effort to keep the
marbles in Britain as something of a strategic campaign.
So much is
obvious from a briefing paper sent out last month by a press
officer in the department. The paper describes a number of
tactics that have been used to delay or derail the Greek
efforts. One in particular is the argument, used in the past
at UNESCO meetings, that removing the
marbles from the British Museum by law could be interpreted as
confiscation and would be contrary to the European Convention
on Human Rights. “This argument is of limited value,” the
paper comments. “It was raised as a delaying tactic and may
have run its course.”
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