As I am writing this, forces of ISIS are slowly
advancing on the ancient historical site of Palmyra, near Tadmor in Syria.
Archaeologists and cultural experts around the world have expressed their fear
about what might happen, should the site fall into the hands of the Islamic
state. However this is not the first
time that the site has stood on the brink of possible destruction. Back in
2013, the site was under fire during clashes between the forces of Assad and
the then prevalent Free Syrian Army. Before that, the site lay in the path of
combined British and French forces as they launched an assault on the troops of
the Vichy regime in July 1941. In light of recent history, it seemed
appropriate to take a look at the various causes that have led to the
destruction of archaeological sites.
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| "I spotted on the plain a scene of the most astonishing ruins: there stood an innumerable amount of superb columns that continued in symmetrical rows as far as the eye could see, in a way similar to the avenues of our parks"- Comte de Volney, 1787 |
Religious iconoclasm:
The most well-known reason of the destruction
of antiquities (and visual culture in general) is the fervour of religious
zealots. Often adhering to radical fundamentalist beliefs, they perceive laws
prohibiting depictions of gods in the most literal sense. Of course, the most
recent example of this is the destruction wrought upon Nineveh by members of
ISIS. This was characterised by their focus on the faces and feet of both
humans and sphinxes. In accordance with Islamic teaching, an image which
doesn’t have the feet to carry it and doesn’t have the face to breathe, see and
speak loses its power. However, iconoclasm is not limited to Islam. During the
Dutch reformation in 1566 Protestant followers went through Catholic churches
and destroyed many statues, altarpieces and other votive objects. This event is
known as the ‘Beeldenstorm’ (Storming of the statues) and coincided with
similar bouts of Protestant iconoclasm raging throughout northern Europe in the
16th century.
Closer to ‘home’ (that is, the site of Horvat
Kur) there was the damage caused to the mosaic at Hammath Tiberias in 2012.
Ultra-orthodox Jews took a sledgehammer to the 1600-year-old floor and
spray-painted slogans on the mosaic. While destruction of ‘blasphemous images’
is a common reason, in this case there was also another reason for the destruction
of the floor.
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| Only the enormous, empty alcoves remain as a testament to the grandeur of the Bamiyan Buddhas |
Activism:
Despite obvious attempts to destroy depictions
of men and animals at the Hammat Tiberias mosaic, the graffiti sprayed on the
mosaic was noteworthy, in that it referenced the ultra-orthodox protests
against the excavation of human remains by archaeologists. This is considered
to be a violation of religious laws and protestors are known to go to
considerable lengths to voice their discontent.
Under religious ‘activism’ we can also place
the destruction of the 6th century Buddha statues at Bamiyan, Afghanistan
in 2001. Statues that had already been ‘neutered’ in terms of their religious functioning
were nonetheless blown up by members of the Taliban. They even announced the
act beforehand. This suggests that it was not merely religious zeal that drove
them, but also the international outrage and the effect this would have on
their reputation. The statues were not just destroyed to display the piety of
the Taliban, but also to show that they commanded power in the region. The
destruction became the means to an end, rather than an end onto itself.
But it is not merely the religious who see
archaeological sites as a soapbox to propagate their agenda. In December 2014,
Greenpeace put up a huge banner just underneath one of the geoglyphs at the
site at Nazca. While it remains unclear how much damage the environmental
action group caused to the site, they did enter into a restricted area and
caused international outrage over the potential risks that were taken merely to
garner publicity. These risks were displayed more dramatically in January 2015,
when local farmers destroyed a geoglyph of the Chimu civilisation in La
Libertad, Peru. However, this destruction was deliberate and fuelled by
altogether different reasons.
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| Damage caused to the Hammath Tiberias synagogue mosaic in 2012 |
Landgrab:
Another common reason for the destruction of
archaeological sites and antiquities is simply because people consider the
archaeological site as problematically limiting for their own development.
Sites are destroyed to make way for agriculture or project development, often
on false grounds and under illegal circumstances. This was the case in La
Libertad, where local farmers wanted the soil for irrigation and cultivation
purposes. To them, the site was merely an obstacle that kept them from claiming
and exploiting the soil. Sometimes, sites are even destroyed to be used as
landfill, as was the case Belize in 2013. A contractor responsible for building
a new road tore down a large section of the Mayan Noh Mul Temple building in
order to use the crushed rock as landfill for the construction work, much to
the dismay of the general populace. The responsible parties have since been
prosecuted, but the damage done to the temple is irreparable.
Ignorance and carelessness:
Perhaps the most banal of reasons for the
destruction of archaeological remains is the fact that people simply don’t
understand what the significance of such sites is. This may be partly due to a
lack of historical knowledge. The most publicised example in recent history is
from 2013, when a Chinese blogger posted an image of graffiti left on a temple
in Luxor. This sparked outrage in China and led to a public shaming of the
15-year-old who was responsible. Fortunately, in this case the damage done
could be repaired.
The graffiti problem does however illustrate a
larger issue: virtually every historic city or archaeological site has to deal
with people wishing to proclaim to the world that they visited the site. A fine
example from Israel is the cistern underneath the mesa fort at Massada, which
is covered in graffiti of people from all over the world. People don’t
appreciate plaster as particularly noteworthy or interesting, except maybe for
use as a canvas.
However, there is another type of destruction
that borders on ignorance: carelessness. The most striking example of this was
the horrible ad hoc repairs done to the death mask of Tutankhamun during
October of 2014. The repairs were done with household quality epoxy, which
leaked down the mask and was then hastily removed, leaving visible scratches on
the mask. Here the pressure to keep the museum’s flagship piece on display
resulted in unnecessary damage, resulting in the opposite effect of what the
carers had wanted, namely that the mask now had to be removed for extensive restoration.
Among carelessness should also be counted the
collateral damage caused by military conflict. While Syria is an obvious recent
example, this problem is not limited to the Middle-East. Border skirmishes
between Thailand and Cambodia between 2008 and 2011 caused significant damage
to the Hindu Preah Vihear temple complex. Most of the damage was caused by
flying bullets and shrapnel.
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| So many unanswerable questions... |
Looting:
The most common reason for the destruction of
archaeological sites is still ordinary tomb-raiding. This ranges from the
highly organised crime as is common in Syria and Egypt, to the average person
taking out their metal detector to sniff around at a local excavation in the
hopes of finding a trinket or memento. Here it is not just the destruction of
the site and the artefacts, but also of its stratigraphy and the subsequent
information that archaeologists could have gained from that. Although
destruction for other reasons is saddening, the destruction of a site’s
information before archaeologists have been able to do so in a controlled
environment, where the information can be documented and analysed is perhaps the
biggest loss. It could be argued that this is in fact the loss of history
itself.
With so many potential threats, it seems odd
that archaeological sites are often poorly protected. But protection is
expensive, just like many other aspect of the archaeological discipline. Most
projects run on limited budgets and researchers would prefer to spend valuable
money on improved analysis of the site, rather than a security guard. On top of
that, most sites are in remote areas and lack facilities, which make it difficult
to permanently guard them with anything more than fences. When long-term guards
are available, it also depends on the stability of the country itself whether
or not they are able to perform their duty. For example: looting picked up in
Egypt after the Arab spring and the ongoing political unrest. With many police
officers withdraw to deal with the upheaval in the cities, the tourism police
responsible for site security soon found themselves outnumbered and even
outgunned when well-armed, organised gangs of looters descended on more remote
sites. Attempts to stop them could often result in minor skirmishes and fire
fights.
Ultimately, it is the fact that sites are often
large, remote and reliant on limited financial means that makes them easy targets
for looting and destruction. Many sites also lie on valuable soil that is a
prime target for those who could care less about culture and historical
significance. In other cases, sites are simply in the firing line of military
conflicts and civil unrest. All these factors make archaeological sites highly
vulnerable and should form a permanent reminder that we have to take better
care of our heritage.
Signing off
