Where University Assets Become Prey During Warfare

In 2022, the Art Crimes Division of the FBI took a keen interest in a palm-sized carving of ivory, which Emory University's art museum in Atlanta, Georgia, had in its collection. Despite missing parts, it was evident that the ivory once depicted a sphinx striding on a man's head, adorning furniture in the Assyrian capital of Nimrud, located in present-day Iraq. It was one of the many Nimrud ivories.

The object had entered the Michael C. Carlos Museum in 2006 through what curators believed were legitimate channels. However, the publication of Ivories From Nimrud Vol. VII in 2023 revealed a long-overdue book. Within its pages, a photo from the 1980s showed an identical ivory piece in the Iraq National Museum in Baghdad.

Seventeen years after it seems to have been looted during the U.S. invasion of Iraq, the FBI returned the ivory to Baghdad with the museum's cooperation in 2023. Unfortunately, the Carlos Museum still boasts numerous objects of questionable origin-artifacts lacking information about when, where, and how they were found. With limited resources, museum staff struggle through a backlog, attempting to verify or deny the legality of every item within their possession.

Museums across the U.S., Europe, and the globe-including the Met Museum in New York, the Louvre in Paris, the Pergamon in Berlin-keep objects from Southwest Asia and elsewhere that were collected under unethical circumstances. This practice reached new levels of infamy in 2021 when the Museum of the Bible in Washington, D.C., was forced to return over 8,000 stolen objects from Iraq. The alarming prevalence of unethically-acquired artifacts from Iraq and its neighboring countries is not exclusive to Emory's Carlos Museum.

However, being situated within a U.S university brings an added dimension to the issue at hand. Should students engage with questionable objects due to unrest caused by the U.S military's invasion of Iraq? Should educators ever use materials obtained illegally or unethically?

As an archaeologist who teaches at Emory and conducts research in Iraq, I've grappled with these questions and decided yes: Learning with and from these objects can aid in addressing their problematic acquisition, so long as the recent history behind them is playing an integral role within the lesson.

PILLAGING IRAQI HERITAGE

The lands now known as Iraq were once called Mesopotamia, the "land between the rivers," embracing parts of modern-day Iraq, Syria, Türkiye, Kuwait, and Iran. Around 6,000 and 2,000 years ago, it was home to numerous states and empires, including Babylonia, Assyria, and Sumer. Resident Sumerians created the earliest recognized writing system, known as cuneiform, by inscribing clay tablets with wedge-like characters. Uruk, Babylon, and Nineveh were some of the first settlements to grow large enough to be considered cities, boasting tens of thousands of residents and monumental structures like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon-one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.

The global significance of Iraq's heritage makes its destruction all the more tragic. The breakdown of political and military order following the Gulf War, coupled with economic desperation, triggered rampant trade in stolen antiquities. These objects, dating back millennia, were smuggled out of the country and into the black market, finds in the hands of unscrupulous collectors.

The U.S invasion of Iraq in 2003 instigated a new wave of destruction. When U.S troops entered Baghdad, looters pillaged approximately 15,000 objects from the Iraq National Museum, including desperate residents grabbing anything of value and opportunistic Baghdadis connected to foreign smugglers. Shortly after, objects from Iraq flooded the international antiquities market. Archaeological sites were also targeted and destroyed, with as much as 80 percent of their surfaces covered in looter's pits.

The rise of the Islamic State (ISIS or ISIL) group in 2013 brought fresh horrors. The terrorist group deliberately targeted ancient sites, such as Nimrud and Hatra, in a calculated assault on Iraq's history and identity, and as part of a broader campaign of cultural cleansing. They generated a significant portion of their revenue through the looting of antiquities, with the international art market playing a crucial role in funding their terrorism.

FROM IRAQ TO EMORY

For two months out of every year, I live in Iraq and lead an international team of researchers on an archaeology project. Working closely with Iraqi and Iraqi Kurdish colleagues, we document, study, and care for uncovered objects before they find a new home in a museum.

My experiences in Iraq have shaped the way I teach. Debating "who owns the past" permeates my Introduction to Archaeology course. We face complex issues such as archaeological context, data availability, cultural heritage, and museums' role in it, all while standing less than 500 feet from objects inside the Carlos Museum that should reside elsewhere.

Wandering the Carlos Museum's narrow galleries with students, I watch excitement rise when we reach displays holding the most ancient materials. As I begin my lecture, standing before displays of lapis, ivory, and ceramic, I ask, "Does anyone know why I'm bringing up 2003?" Most students are clueless. Occasionally, one hesitantly points out, "Isn't that when Iraq was invaded?"

"Bingo!" I respond, as students start to connect the pieces. They realize we are standing face-to-face with objects of problematic origin and history.

TO TEACH OR NOT TO TEACH

Approximately 7,000 of the estimated 15,000 objects looted from Iraq's National Museum have been recovered. However, that number accounts for a tiny fraction of the total value of items stolen from Iraq. Objects excavated illegally lack documentation and a traceable paper trail, making it difficult for museums to identify and repatriate them. Museums benefit from this obscurity, often leading to a "free pass" for objects that were illicitly obtained.

Engaging with potentially-looted objects risks legitimizing their presence on campus, as students in the U.S. enjoy a direct learning experience with artifacts stolen during a war sparked by the U.S. military. However, pedagogical research consistently emphasizes the value of using real-world examples and hands-on materials for learning. Students connect when they stand in front of a case, reevaluating labels in the face of concerning historical context. That very object may have been looted from a specific museum or dug up illegally from a specific site. The injustice hits harder than the textbook ever could.

The long-term goal is for all objects to return to their countries of origin; however, this process is slow-going. In the interim, using these items thoughtfully means focusing on ancient and recent history while addressing their recent acquisition and ethical implications. The return of a 2,700-year-old Nimrud ivory to the Iraqi government serves as a belated acknowledgment of a troubling chapter in its history and the museum's. Many more objects ought to follow suit. Emory's students will learn both ancient and recent history, debate current controversies, and confront the problem head-on while standing directly in front of it.

The issue of questionable objects of Iraqi heritage in museums extends beyond Emory's Carlos Museum, with institutions like the Met Museum in New York, the Louvre in Paris, and the Pergamon in Berlin also housing artifacts collected under unethical circumstances.
The prevalence of unethically-acquired artifacts from Iraq and its neighboring countries is not just a concern for the world of politics and war and conflicts, but also education and self-development, as students may engage with these questionable objects in their learning process.
The recent history of the acquisition of questionable objects, such as the return of the Nimrud ivory to Baghdad in 2023, should be an integral part of the lessons using these objects in museums, to address their problematic origin and aid in understanding the cultural significance and importance of their repatriation.