Anatolian Economic Ages

We are accustomed to hearing about Egypt demanding the repatriation of antiquities ever and anon, but, in the last while, Turkey has also been making waves of its own through jumping on the repatriation bandwagon, threatening to revoke excavation permits of foreign projects who hold the antiquities in question, such as the case of the Hittite sphinx in Berlin. In addition, the drive for increasing the touristic potential of archaeological sites has also increased, and projects that are viewed as not generating patent archaeological remains for this venture are threatened with the revocation of permits. This has been the case for foreign projects – the French have lost Xanthos and Letoon according to this logic: they have been working too slowly, and not moving enough earth. Previously, Çatalhöyük has also come under such criticism, particularly in the years that work focused on excavating the multi-phased Building 1 in Area 4040. In addition, some of the tension stemming from the situation at Çatalhöyük was also due to lack of ‘impressive’ finds – such as wall paintings – on a scale approaching that of Mellaart.

Turkey is one of a few countries in the world to boast such extensive representation of past human activity/cultures – from early prehistory to the present day – and management thereof would present a serious challenge to any governing body. Finding a balance between scholarly and economic concerns is something that archaeologists have to wrestle with everywhere, and in Turkey pressure has been mounting. Surely, cultural heritage management on such scale would be handled more easily with international co-operation, and evaluation on a case by case basis.

The principle of cancelling permits of foreign projects and handing them over to Turkish archaeologists does appear to signal an increasing inward looking attitude, where the logic seems to dictate that Turkish archaeologists would be more apt to enact the dictates of the state. Özdoğan’s strident comment on jealousies, favouritisms and petty power struggles shows ‘inside’ dissatisfaction, and a point that many working in Turkey can identify with – I have worked in the country for the last few years and have heard various horror stories, and been at hand in situations that brought these issues into the open.

A thorny topic to say the least, and one that bears watching for those working (or looking to do so) in Turkey.

River of Treasures

This old leaflet fell out of a book on my shelf today. It’s Sheraton-sponsored advertising, c. 2003, for the notorious Bangkok antiquities mall.

The title reminded me of an older image – from Louis Delaporte’s, Voyage au Cambodge (Paris, 1880). Now that’s a river of treasures.

shiny stuff sets the agenda

In 2009, a group of four gold torcs dating from the Iron Age was discovered near Stirling by a metal-detectorist, reportedly on his first ever outing, and was purchased by the state under Treasure Trove laws (in Scotland the Treasure Act does not apply). A payment of £462,000, raised from public grants and donations, was made for the finds, which are now housed in the National Museum of Scotland. The finder – David Booth – reported the finds shortly after digging them up – actions that were praised by authorities as ‘exemplary’. This prompted an archaeological excavation of the site, which was found to consist of a timber roundhouse. Finds analysis established that two of the torcs have a local style/provenance, while the other two have a Continental and Mediterranean origin.

Though the ‘Stirling torcs’ are remarkable, this story is not unusual in Britain today. It is perhaps what advocates of ‘responsible metal detecting’ would consider a best-case scenario: metal detectorist goes into field and digs up valuable artefacts, reports artefacts promptly to authorities, artefacts go on to the market for sale, decision is made over whether to use public funds to purchase artefacts and/or investigate the findspot. Like it or not, this is how much public money is being spent on archaeology/heritage today.

But though finders who swiftly report major discoveries are described as ‘responsible … exemplary’, is this responsible and exemplary archaeology? David Booth acted in good faith and did the right thing – his actions were lauded by the authorities and he is now depicted on a display panel in the museum. The authorities did the only right thing possible – bought the finds and excavated the site; new information was obtained from a previously unknown and significant site – good result – but where is all this heading?

Clearly treasure hunting, artefact collecting, metal detecting, call it what you will, is a key motivator for archaeological field investigation inBritain. In terms of expenditure, buying finds and conducting salvage digs must rank only behind building development as a public cost for ‘archaeology’. But who does it benefit? How is it that an archaeologist can invest years of effort into formulating research proposals and grant applications to fund projects when expensive purchases and rescue excavations are triggered by chance discoveries of ‘precious’ finds? The research project will bring employment, education and enjoyment to many, while the shiny stuff concentrates money and cultural capital into the hands of the few.

Before I get accused of sour grapes or have tedious arguments rehearsed about ‘we wouldn’t know about it if it weren’t for detectorists’, I should say that I think antiquarianism – the documenting and collecting of things from the past for their own sake – is not archaeology. It might be nice to look at shiny gold stuff, but it does not necessarily tell us more about the past than, say, a bit of burnt wood or a bone. The antiquarian turn in public heritage policy comes after the almost complete privatisation of archaeology and its subordination to the development industry. Shiny stuff is able to command political capital, and recent governments in the UK have exploited this, just as their imperialist predecessors in the Victorian period did.

Archaeologists aren’t entirely blameless for their status as ‘bottom feeders’ (as John Moreland called the discipline, admittedly in a different context). Why is there not more pressure to rebalance spending towards investigation of important questions about the past rather than buying shiny stuff and running around after holes dug by looters, er, I mean detectorists? Why is Colin Renfrew vociferous to condemn the illicit antiquities market but is comfortable with ‘responsible’ detecting? Perhaps there is just too much invested by the establishment in the shiny stuff. It’s safe, it makes for happy stories, it allows for superlatives – the biggest, most significant, most valuable, goldest … It doesn’t demand the difficult questions and uncomfortable answers that archaeology provides.

will Hawass follow Mubarak?

It seems almost facile to think of the consequences for archaeology of the overthrow of the Mubarak regime in Egypt. There are so many more pressing matters. Yet, the fall of the old guard, if that is what happened, will surely affect the country’s cultural policy, and perhaps the status of Egypt’s supreme guardian of antiquities, Zahi Hawass. In the days following the looting of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, Hawass was promoted to Mubarak’s sham cabinet as minister of antiquities. Hawass then issued statements defending Mubarak and denigrating the street protesters. There are now claims that Hawass tried to downplay the significance of the Cairo Museum looting. At present it’s unknown to me whether authoritarian tyranny in Egypt has been genuinely toppled. Though not a priority, what happens to government heritage and archaeology policy – always an arena for conflict and control – could be quite telling of the country’s overall direction.

update

from Bikyamasr: Egypt’s antiquities chief under fire

‘… “Get out,” chanted a crowd of 150 archaeology graduates outside Hawass’ office on Monday. The protest was highly personal: demonstrators called Hawass a “showman” who seeks publicity and has little regard for the thousands of archaeology students who are unable to find work in their field.’

update 2 (5/3/11)

There are reports that Zahi Hawass has resigned as antiquities minister: see links at Looting Matters and at CultureGrrl.

Strangeways here we come

Strangeways Springs has nothing to do with Manchester or The Smiths (as far as I know). It’s situated about 10,000 miles away, in the desert of South Australia, near Lake Eyre. In the 19th century it was a pastoral settlement, an Overland Telegraph Repeater Station and a point along the Ghan railway. Those are all now gone, but there are several standing and ruined structures – dwellings and animal pens, a kitchen, a store, a police station (so another Strangeways prison?) and a grand water tank (picture below).

The natural springs that enticed Europeans here were used for centuries by the Aboriginal occupants of this region – the Arabunna people. Dense spreads of flaked and ground stone tools pepper the rocky surface. I wonder what the settlers thought of these physical traces of the Aboriginal presence, which long outstretched that of Europeans? What did the Aborigines, those that survived the ravages of colonisation, make of the Europeans? Like so many places in Australia, it is impossible to understand colonial history without thinking about what came before.

This was a truly remote outpost of the British empire. It made me think of the lengths to which settlers went to support Britannia’s appetite for the colonies’ products such as wool. It also made me think of the ultimate failure of this endeavour. Here, the settlers were on the wrong side of Goyder’s Line of rainfall, and like dozens of other places along the railway line and telegraph wire, it was a short-lived occupancy. In a strange way, Strangeways Springs does have something to do with the Second City of the British empire.

mind the Queen’s and Lord Treasurer’s Remembrancer?

That’s the person who administers archaeological finds in Scotland on behalf of the Crown. She has recently ordered that a hoard of Iron Age gold be purchased by the National Museum of Scotland. The torcs are a highly significant discovery of Iron Age metalwork. They were found near Stirling by a metal detector user, supposely on his first ever outing. He reported the finds quickly, and publicly described how he dug them up.  A subsequent excavation revealed that they were buried beneath the floor of a timber building.

In Scotland, all archaeological finds belong to the Crown, which will sometimes exercise its claim. But there is an assumption that the financial value of the finds should go to the finder, in this case the figure of £460,000 is being talked about. The museum will have to raise this cash. But as far as I know there is not a legal obligation for the state to pay anything, so in a way this is a genuine reward, a gift from the state.

A far cry from the free market in precious metals that the Treasure Act encourages in England. What would happen, I wonder, if the price tag for the torcs was, say £2.3m? Is it really fair that hard-up public museums should have to drum up cash for a national lottery in antiquities?

the Crosby Garrett conspiracy

This quite nauseating photograph of the ‘Crosby Garrett helmet’ (sold for 2.3m squid) does that clever trick that auction houses specialise in. It turns an object with murky provenance, dug from the ground as scraps of mud-encrusted metal, into a fetishised piece of High Art that can be sold to generate cash and prestige. The Christie’s showgirl, Georgiana Aitken, calls it “the discovery of a lifetime for a metal detectorist.” What about the landowner who would stand to take half the winnings? Turns out he might have been a bit late on the uptake. See, to get a PAS number and at least a modicum of legitimacy, Christie’s needed a grid ref. Crosby Garrett was the target of systematic treasure hunting for quite some years by not one but groups of metal detector users. There are also questions about the reconstruction of the helmet – in what state was it found? Where are the photographs of the object in situ? In what state was it when it came to Christie’s (in “63 pieces?” If so, why does Georgina say that she “saw this extraordinary face from the past staring back at me.”?) and when the PAS saw it? Who did the conservation?

The fact that a valient attempt by the public and local museum in Cumbria to buy the helmet failed and it is now probably confined to some private cabinet or a Swiss bank vault is another story. Because either way, the people of Cumbria, Britain, the world, have had something nicked from them … whoever buys it in the end.

Tarmac or prehistory? Have your say

The construction of a bypass on the outskirts of Hobart in Tasmania has been halted by a deadlock over the decision to destroy a significant Aboriginal archaeological site (said to be 42,000 BP, but I’m not sure of the basis for this date – seems really early). The state minister responsible has taken the unusual step of releasing his internal advice publicly for feedback. The applicant to protect the site, Michael Mansell from the Tasmanian Aboriginal Centre, suggests that this is a publicity exercise and that the decision will ultimately come from the federal government in Canberra. But it’ll be interesting to see the response.

The public consultation process is outlined here and runs until 22 October 2010. Some background is given in an ABC radio report here.

paying for what?

It’s great to hear that the government (through the National Heritage Memorial Fund) has pledged over £1m to secure the purchase of the Staffordshire Hoard of Anglo-Saxon metalwork – ‘saved for the nation‘. This will go toward the £3.3m pricetag that was attached to the finds and which, under the current Treasure laws, the finder and landowner will share.

But behind this success is the elephant in the room. No longer can the state claim direct ownership of the finds – it has to pay – we, you have to pay. For something found in ‘our’, ‘your’ land. As metal detectorists become more willing to report, the cost to the state of sustaining this hobby is mounting. The standards for what is considered worthy of state purchase must be rising. And the underlying premise – that antiquities have high financial value, that treasure hunting is good, that it pays, and that treasure hunters are ‘unsung heroes’ of the nation’s heritage is promoted.

Instead of celebrating a fantastic purchase for the nation, this episode should prompt open debate on whether people should be rewarded financially for cherry-picking the archaeological resource.

first conviction under Treasure Act 1996

It’s not a metal detectorist/nighthawker/looter. A woman who failed to report a rare, silver artefact that she found in her back garden 14 years ago is the first person to be convicted under the Treasure Act 1996. The case is reported in the Daily Mail.