Fight For Home: Benin’s Bronzes – A Kingdom’s Stolen Brilliance and the Fight for Repatriation
Contributor: Iana Ruheta, a student intern at the museum and a final-year Biochemistry student at the university, writes her future narrative, one chapter at a time. Museums, lab experiments, and lively debates are her playgrounds, each artifact, experiment, and policy discussion weaving a tapestry of knowledge that fuels her growing curiosity.
In the words of Nigerian Author, Chinua Achebe, “In the hands of the craftsmen, bronze becomes a storyteller, whispering the tales of a kingdom lost to the pages of history”. This week, on Wednesday and Thursday, two remake artifacts of Benin Bronze figurines will be featured on our social media accounts, and this article is dedicated to expanding more on their history.
As we stand in the presence of Benin bronzes, each figure becomes a chapter, a testament to the artistic mastery of Benin City, and a haunting reminder of the actions of the past. Today, we delve into the narratives embedded in these bronze sculptures—a tapestry of traditions, the impact of loss, and the persistent pursuit of repatriation.
Crafted with enduring precision, Benin bronzes originally adorned altars, symbolizing departed obas (kings) and queen mothers. However, in 1897, British occupation disrupted the tranquility of the Kingdom of Benin (not to be confused with the current country of Benin), leading to the looting of these sculptures on February 18th of the same year. These treasured figures now reside in museums globally. The UARK Museum houses two reproductions of these Benin figurines. Even though these remakes aren’t real figurines, they inspired this blog post to highlight the history of the original figurines. These figures were looted during a significant historical event, shedding light on the impact of colonial actions on cultural heritage.
In this blog post, we delve into the nuanced interplay of art and history, where replicas and originals engage in a silent discourse. Through the lens of these bronzed storytellers, we unravel the intricate complexities of repatriation. Contemplating the role of art as a bridge, we connect to the heart of a kingdom now lost to time, yet persisting in the hands of craftsmen and the discerning gaze of those who seek to comprehend its profound legacy.
Figure 1: Map of the Kingdom of Benin represented by the two blue pointers on the map. Featured on DigitalBenin.org through MapTiler and OpenStreetMap.
The Kingdom of Benin was established by the Edo people (the indigenous people of the region) in the 11th century in what is now southwestern Nigeria. This is where the kingdom once thrived as a sophisticated and powerful realm, imprinting an indelible mark on history. Renowned for its well-organized society, advanced administrative systems, and thriving artistic tradition, Benin’s influence reverberated far beyond its borders. Its strategic location facilitated vibrant trade networks, fostering economic prosperity and cultural exchanges that contributed to the kingdom’s lasting impact. This kingdom made its mark in history, thanks to its strategic location that fueled trade and cultural connections.
Figure 2: Benin Bronzes. The British Museum. February 15th. Photographed by Son of Groucho.
The pinnacle of Benin’s influence lies in the renowned Benin bronzes—exquisite manifestations of craftsmanship and crucial historical artifacts. Crafted by skilled artisans in Benin City, these bronze sculptures are like time capsules, preserving the kingdom’s artistic brilliance for generations.
In 1897, a brutal act of colonial violence forever scarred the Kingdom of Benin. The British forces stormed the kingdom’s capital, Benin City. The circumstances surrounding this episode unfold a tale of colonial overreach, revealing the harsh reality of cultural exploitation and upheaval. Thousands of sculptures, plaques, and other priceless artifacts – collectively known as the Benin Bronzes – were ripped from their ceremonial and spiritual context and scattered across museums and private collections in Europe and beyond. This looting was not just a theft of treasures; it was a severing of cultural memory. The bronzes– intricately crafted narratives of history, governance, and belief were reduced to trophies of conquest, stripped of their sacred power, and relegated to the sterile vitrines of Western institutions.
The looting inflicted a profound and lasting wound on the Kingdom of Benin. It severed a tangible connection to their glorious past, leaving behind a gaping void and a painful reminder of colonial brutality. Decades later, from this fracture emerged a beacon of hope: Digital Benin. This meticulous online platform documents the bronzes’ scattered journey, amplifying the Edo people’s rightful claim to their stolen heritage. By fostering dialogue about repatriation and bridging the gap between Benin’s past and present, Digital Benin strives to one day reunite the bronzes with their rightful home, where they can once again act as emblems of sacred altars to honor departed obas and queen mothers.
Figure 3: A screenshot of the Digital Benin webpage
The artistic details that can be seen in the pictures of the remakes below tell of Benin’s lost-wax method. Craftsmen poured lifelike figures in molten bronze, their flowing robes and expressive faces testament to impressive control. Skilled metalsmiths sculpted intricate ornaments and armor. Woven throughout are symbolic motifs – geometric patterns, animal figures, and stylized plants – of Benin’s cosmology and belief systems. Technical virtuosity shines in every feather and robe, a symphony of form, texture, and movement, proving the artists’ mastery not just of bronze, but of storytelling and cultural expression. Benin’s entrenched guild system nurtured generations of specialized artisans, their brass casting, ivory carving, and wood engraving techniques passed down through lineages, while readily absorbing external influences like those of Portuguese traders, ensuring both the legacy of their unique artistic identity and its dynamic evolution.
Figure 4: Benin Bronzes. The British Museum. February 15th. Photographed by Son of Groucho.
The Benin bronzes, once gleaming sentinels of Benin City’s royal palace, now find themselves scattered across the globe. Over 5,000 of these exquisite sculptures, looted in 1897 by British forces, reside in museums and private collections worldwide, from London and Berlin to New York and Tokyo. This dispersion is a stark legacy of colonialism, severing the bronzes’ connection to their cultural and spiritual roots.
The debate surrounding their repatriation is as complex as the history that led to their exile. Advocates for repatriation argue that the bronzes are not mere art objects but living embodiments of Benin’s cultural heritage. They hold ancestral spirits, embody historical narratives, and serve as conduits to a rich, stolen past. Their absence in Benin is a prominent wound, a constant reminder of colonial brutality and ongoing cultural dispossession.
However, the issue isn’t simply a matter of returning stolen items. Museums holding the bronzes argue that they serve to educate and inspire audiences, fostering global understanding and appreciation of African art. Additionally, concerns about security and proper care in Benin raise challenges. Should bronzes be returned unconditionally? Should museums retain some for educational purposes? How can a sustainable framework for cultural exchange and shared responsibility be created?
The ethical considerations are multifaceted. Does retaining bronzes perpetuate colonial injustice? Does repatriation guarantee their safety and proper appreciation? Should museums be held accountable for past wrongs? These questions demand nuanced exploration, recognizing the legitimate perspectives of both Benin and Western institutions.
Beyond legal and logistical barriers, the repatriation debate sparks a deeper conversation about cultural ownership and representation. Who gets to speak for a culture’s past? Whose narratives are enshrined in museums? Can artifacts be fully removed from their original context? Navigating these questions requires empathy, cultural sensitivity, and a commitment to shared custodianship of humanity’s diverse cultural heritage.
The issue of the Benin Bronzes is not merely a museum debate; it’s a microcosm of broader conversations about colonialism, restitution, and cultural equity. Finding a solution will require open dialogue, respect for diverse perspectives, and a willingness to confront the legacies of the past. Only then can these magnificent bronzes, once again, sing their silenced hymns of a stolen cultural heritage, not from sterile museum vitrines, but from their rightful home in Benin City.
Figure 5: Two remake Benin Bonze Figurines in our Museum. Pictures taken by our museum student intern.
In the UARK Museum, two replicas of Benin bronze stand not just as an echo of a stolen relic, but as a spark of awareness. This meticulous copy prompts crucial questions about the bronze’s diaspora and the ongoing push for repatriation. While not the original, it offers a glimpse into Benin’s artistic brilliance and amplifies the silenced voice of its heritage. By showcasing this replica, the museum bridges the gap between continents and cultures, urging us to learn, advocate, and join the chorus demanding the bronzes’ rightful return. This simple copy holds a complex message, echoing the bronzes’ plea to be heard and, finally, brought home.
Benin’s bronzes, once gleaming sentinels, now stand shrouded in the ghosts of royalty and the echoes of colonial cruelty. They whisper tales of a stolen past, their silence a stark reminder of lost heritage. But this journey through replicas and history has illuminated the intricate web of repatriation. We’ve wrestled with ethical dilemmas, weighed museum arguments, and felt the urgent pulse for rightful return. Through art, we glimpsed a kingdom’s soul, yearning even in displacement. Let their story be a catalyst for a more just and equitable world, where cultural treasures sing their rightful songs, not from echoes of loss, but from the melodies of restoration.
Sources:
- The Metropolitan Museum of Art: [Benin: Kings and Rituals], https://www.metmuseum.org/art/metpublications/Roman_Portraits_Sculptures_in_Stone_and_Bronze.
- The British Museum: [Contested Objects: The Benin Bronzes], https://www.britishmuseum.org/about-us/british-museum-story/contested-objects-collection/benin-bronzes.
- Digital Benin: [Digital Benin], https://digitalbenin.org/.
- Ross, D. H. (1995). Lost-Wax Casting: The Benin Bronzes.
- Peek, P. M. (1991). Benin: Royal Arts of West Africa. See especially chapters on “Craftsmen and Guilds” and “Artistic Styles and Influences.”
- Peek, P. M. (1975). Benin Kings and Rituals: Echoes in Court Art.
- Leith-Ross, S. (1970). The Symbolism of Animals in Benin Art.
- Agheyisi, A. B. (1982). Oral Traditions as History in Benin.
- Latour, B. (1993). Museums and the Paradox of Universality.
- Plankensteiner, B. (2007). The Benin Bronzes: An Overview.
- Bennett, T. (2004). Museums, Power and Politics.
- Rassool, C. (2019). Decolonizing Museums: Addressing the Legacies of Colonial Violence.
- GeoLibrary2013 Blog: [Out Today: Africa is Not a Country], https://geolibrary2013.blogspot.com/2022/04/out-today-africa-is-not-country.html.