Heritage crime matters. As I prepared this review, evidence emerged of metal-detectorists probing the immediate proximity of Hadrian's Wall (Press Association 2015), and another individual was apprehended while searching the (recorded) Castle Green at Plympton St Maurice in Devon (Eve Reference Eve2015). Looking to southern Europe, in January 2015 the Italian authorities revealed some 5000 objects worth over €50 million, seized from a single dealer in Basel, Switzerland. And in February 2015 investigative journalists for BBC Radio 4's ‘File on 4’ programme explored the way that looted antiquities moved from Syria to the London market via Lebanon and Turkey. From these few examples heritage crime can be shown to have grown to an industrial scale in some parts of the world, and that even cherished World Heritage sites are not left untouched in the rush to find ‘goodies’.
These two latest volumes address a wide range of issues in art and heritage crime. One, Contemporary perspectives on the detection, investigation and prosecution of art crime, presents a selection of papers from a 2012 workshop on art crime held in Brisbane, Queensland, alongside some more recent work. The second, Heritage crime, emerged from a project sponsored by English Heritage, with a focus on England (see Coombes et al. Reference Coombes, Bradley, Grove, Thomas and Young2012). Although these volumes cover a wide range of heritage crime, including fine art and antiques, the present review will focus on those papers most concerned with archaeological matters.
The first two of my opening heritage crime incidents are linked to the searching of recorded heritage sites (one with World Heritage status) by metal-detectorists. The index of Heritage crime lists ‘metal, detecting’ between ‘metal, copper’ and ‘metal, gold’. The editors specifically exclude discussion of ‘metal-detecting enthusiasts’, even though they recognise that the debate is “important and relevant to the heritage crime discourse” (p. 8). Brian Kristian Wennberg, in an essay on heritage crime in Norway, notes how metal-detectorists “can help register archaeological finds” (p. 166). He cites the Portable Antiquities Scheme (for England and Wales) as a model for “more find reports and better documentation of objects” (p. 167). This is noted with approval by the editors, although they accept the “acknowledged flaws in this programme” (p. 225), outlined by this reviewer in a forum piece for the Institute of Archaeology (Gill Reference Gill2010a). Carolyn Shelbourn writes on ‘Improving the treatment of heritage crime in criminal proceedings’ and observes the increase in ‘nighthawking’ since the 2009 discovery of the Staffordshire Hoard. Imagine the scenario where a major hoard of Saxon coins is found buried on previously undisturbed pasture, at a location that appears on the Historic Environment Record (HER). The hoard is then unceremoniously removed from its location in order to protect its integrity. Is this an example of ‘nighthawking’? No. Does this represent a loss of archaeological knowledge? Yes. Is this an example of heritage crime? Perhaps that is a question for the reader to decide.
The looting of archaeological sites to provide material for the market has grown to an industrial scale in some parts of the world. The 5000 objects recovered by the Italian authorities from the Swiss-based dealer represent thousands of destroyed archaeological contexts and the related loss of knowledge. One of the symbols of this trade in Italian archaeological material is the Athenian red-figured krater showing the death of Sarpedon outside the walls of Troy. This pot was acquired by New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1972 for $1 million, and has now been returned to Italy (Gill Reference Gill, Lazrus and Barker2012). The krater is discussed by Neil Brodie in Contemporary perspectives, but his essay does not engage with the broader intellectual consequences of looting. Brodie's other case studies include archaeological material from Jordan, the link between museum donations and ‘tax fraud’, and the ‘Persian princess’ that surfaced through Pakistan (and turned out to be a modern creation).
One of the most thought-provoking essays in Heritage crime is by Sam Hardy, who addresses ‘Threats to cultural heritage in the Cyprus conflict’. This essay resonates with the early 2015 debates about the looting of archaeological sites in Syria and northern Iraq during the present conflict with IS. In Contemporary perspectives, Duncan Chappell and Damien Huffer bring a helpful perspective on the looting of archaeological sites in Southeast Asia and the appearance of material on the Australian market. They comment on material acquired by major Australian museums from the art dealer Subhash Kapoor; some of the items have now been returned to India. Most recently, the National Gallery of Australia agreed to ‘donate’ back to India its Kushan ‘Seated Buddha’ statue, originally acquired by New York dealer Nancy Wiener. In the latter case, the very atypical outcome of a dealer reimbursing a gallery was obtained in the first real test of the Australian museum community's much stricter acquisitions policies.
These cases are good reminders that museums need to ensure that their pre-acquisition due diligence processes are sufficiently rigorous to uncover falsified collecting histories (a term I prefer to use for archaeological material rather than the meaningless and obsolete ‘provenance’: Gill Reference Gill2010b). Chappell and Huffer are undoubtedly correct in their assessment that “In the longer term it is likely to be a better informed and motivated public, rather than punitive measures, that reduces demand for looted objects” (p. 254). Sergiu Musteata, in Heritage crime, documents archaeological heritage crimes in Romania and Moldova. This includes the recovery in Germany of part of a hoard of 3600 gold coins weighing 30kg. This example is a good reminder of why coins should be included within the memoranda of understanding that are being formulated between various countries and the US authorities.
The benchmark for discussing recently surfaced archaeological material is the 1970 UNESCO Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property. In Contemporary perspectives, Lyndel V. Prott writes on ‘UNESCO's influence on the development of international criminal law’. Prott, and separately Patrick J. O’Keefe in the same volume, discuss the case of Jonathan Tokeley-Parry and the investigation of material handled by Frederick Schultz (see also Tokeley Reference Tokeley2006). O’Keefe reminds us that “This chapter has emphasized the difficulties in investigating and prosecuting art crime from an international perspective” (p. 166). Kenneth Polk, in Heritage crime, writes on the global trade in illicit antiquities and accepts that in spite of the UNESCO Convention “the problems continue”; his academic response, “to try to develop better methods, and better data, than are currently available” (p. 221), misses the point. Archaeologists have a good idea of the scale of the problem, but we need to see changing attitudes among those linked to the trade of archaeological material, as well as museum curators and private collectors.
These criminological studies perhaps serve to show why, from the perspective of this reviewer, there has been such poor progress made on the legal front. The seizure of photographic and documentary archives from dealers in Switzerland, and their subsequent tactical use by the Italian authorities, has had far more impact on the collecting behaviours of museums and private collectors (Watson & Todeschini Reference Watson and Todeschini2006; Gill Reference Gill2010c). Little attention is paid in either volume to the use of traditional print media—and, in recent years, social media (Gill Reference Gill, Rocks-Macqueen and Webster2014a)—to draw attention to potentially looted archaeological material.
Is the academic discourse of ‘heritage crime’ failing to address such significant archaeological concerns? Is the continuing and unsustainable destruction of the archaeological record to supply the insatiable demands of the market having serious intellectual consequences for our discipline? Take, for example, the Roman cavalry parade helmet alleged to have been found at Crosby Garrett in Cumbria (Gill Reference Gill2014b). Has there been a ‘criminal’ act in removing the helmet from its context? It seems not. But has the archaeological context been irretrievably lost? Yes. Is the helmet presently located in a place where it can be viewed by members of the public? No.
Heritage crime matters. But the irretrievable loss of contexts is of more concern to those of us who believe passionately that the past has a place in the future.
