Dr Edhem Eldem is a renowned Turkish historian who teaches at the Department of History at Boğaziçi University in Istanbul. In 2011-2012 he was a fellow at The Wissenschaftskolleg zu Berlin. His research focus lies on the late Ottoman social and economic history, intellectual biographies and the history of archaeology. A few weeks ago he published an article in the German Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung on the present situation for archaeologists in Turkey. We asked Dr Edhem Eldem some further questions on this topic.
"A tendency to use power over excavators as a means of retaliation"
L.I.S.A.: Dr. Eldem, a few weeks ago you have published an article in the German newspaper Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. The topic: politicians – in this case in Turkey – misuse treasures of antiquity for their own benefit, with serious consequences for the academic discipline Archaeology and for archaeologists. You refer especially to foreign, non-turkish campaigns. What kind of consequences do you mean? What is the real problem?
Dr. Eldem: Behind my desire to write this article were two ‘burning’ issues concerning archaeology and politics in Turkey. First, a marked tendency of the government to take away excavation permits from foreign teams or, at least, to threaten to do so; second, a systematic refusal, again by the government, to lend objects to museums holding, or said to be holding, objects that had been illegally taken from the Turkish territory. At first glance, these two issues do not need to be necessarily taken as a form of abuse on behalf of the government. After all, ever since Ottoman times, the government has been legally granted the authority to deliver permits to excavators, foreign and domestic alike; in that sense, it is within the government’s power and duties to see to it that these permits are delivered properly and that their legal and scientific requirements are properly met. Moreover, it is also true that there is an impressive number of objects and artifacts that have been removed from Ottoman, and then Turkish, soil as a result of clandestine digs and outright smuggling. From this perspective, too, it falls within the prerogatives and duties of the government to do its best to prevent such occurrences in the future and to obtain restitution for those objects that have been traced to private and public collections abroad.
However, my objection is to the fact that the present situation does not reflect such an idealized situation, but rather denotes a tendency of politics, ideology, populism, and economic opportunism to dominate the whole question. In short, I would stress the following points:
1. The government shows a tendency to use its power over excavators as a means of leverage and retaliation, in other words as a stick, rather than a carrot. The French have lost two sites on grounds of insufficient publication; the Germans have lost Aizanoi for less clear reasons. In 2011, the government threatened the Germans with freezing all their excavations unless one of the Hattusa sphinxes were returned. The sphinx was returned and the crisis avoided, but then the Germans almost lost Göbeklitepe on grounds that a recently discovered statue was stolen. In terms of cultural exchanges, loans promised to the Victoria and Albert, Metropolitan, and British Museums were cancelled at the last minute, on grounds that these institutions held objects illegally removed from Turkey in their collections. All these instances reveal a tendency to favor conflict over negotiation in finding a solution to what may well be legitimate concerns, but need to be handled in a more diplomatic, consensual, and scientifically transparent way.
2. One of the main problems is that the government’s action is essentially political and lacks any serious backing from the scientific community or any recognized scientific body. Taking away an excavation from a team that has been working on it for decades may well mean throwing away a very precious accumulation of knowledge and expertise that can hardly be replaced overnight. In the same way, an aggressive stand against a reputable museum is hardly an alternative to a more consensual and collaborative attitude that may lead to all forms of solutions, from permanent loans to outright retrocession.
3. One of my greatest concerns is that much of the government’s action is prompted by economic and ideological/political concerns. The latter are rather evident in the populist discourse that marks the way in which these issues are presented to the Turkish public and to (and by) the Turkish press. Systematic amalgamation between objects legally (but perhaps not ethically) taken away, such as the Pergamon altar, and objects smuggled out from the country feeds into the dominant feelings of xenophobia and paranoia that characterize popular perceptions of foreign archaeological presence in the country. This latent reference to foreign excavators as past and potential spoliators of the national heritage creates an easy and dangerous atmosphere of mistrust, which can be exploited by the government and bureaucracy to carry on a program of “nationalization” of excavation sites and archaeology at large. This is all the more disturbing when one considers that the dominant perception of archaeology is characterized, both at governmental and popular level, by a rather blatant lack of interest for anything that does not fall into the wider context of the Turkish and Islamic past of the country. This leaves one doubtful as to whether the concern expressed is really about archaeology or about whatever power and interests can be accrued from control over it. Indeed one finds it difficult to consider seriously the government’s alleged concerns for archaeology when compared to the almost total absence of references to the subjects of this discipline in educational programs and in the scientific endeavors undertaken by state- and government-sponsored agencies.
4. The economic concerns behind archaeology are evident: tourism generates enormous revenues, a substantial portion of which come from the major archaeological sites. This, in turn, shifts the concern from the invisible aspects of archaeology to its most visible and spectacular dimension. More importantly, the performance of archaeological missions tends to be evaluated more in terms of revenues generated than of actual scientific contribution. This encourages certain problematic issues such as anastylosis, and puts pressure on archaeologists to open up their digs to tourism as rapidly as possible. The other side of archaeology, the mostly invisible research that needs time, energy, and funds, is thus relegated to the background, sometimes even considered as a nuisance by pragmatic-minded bureaucrats and administrators. This perception obviously dovetails with the ideological biases exposed above: lacking any real presence in a historical construct based on Turkishness and Islam, archaeology thus acquires its legitimacy as an economic venture targeting foreign visitors. The fact that the government body in charge of archaeology is the Ministry of Culture and Tourism is telling enough of this ambiguous stand. Interestingly, the ‘economic’ factor is powerful enough to override preservationist concerns even with respect to the ‘ideologically legitimate’ field of Ottoman heritage. The obliviousness of local and central authorities to the threat of a new bridge over the Golden Horn that will destroy the silhouette of Istanbul is a case in point.
5. The major problem that looms over all the above is that the government can hardly be challenged in its action. Decisions are taken singlehandedly by the politicians concerned and by the bureaucracy of the ministry. Universities are rarely consulted, and most archaeologists are conscious of the fact that their own sites depend on the will and acceptance of the ministry. More importantly, this nationalist and xenophobic discourse is more often than not close to the heart of the general public, the press, and even academic circles. This makes it difficult to organize, as some archaeologist try, a public forum capable to discuss state and government policies in this regard. Unfortunately, contrary to most western examples, museums lack the academic, scientific, and financial autonomy that might give them a say in these processes. Quite the contrary, they are reduced to the role of glorified warehouses at the mercy of bureaucratic control and procedure and have to bear a heavy burden of exhibition, research, and monitoring without any corresponding access to decision making and active participation in the development of an archaeological policy.