Back where it belongs

At times, Hollywood heists are no match for the dramatic thefts of art treasures. It was in March 1967 that inscribed red sandstone pillars decorated with reliefs of Yaksha, dated 2nd century BCE, were stolen from Suraj Kund temple at Amin village in Haryana. These were recovered two months later. However, on the pretext of carrying out research, an antique smuggler managed to get possession of the pillars and prepared replica sets of the original in 1968. The original set was smuggled out of India and the replica set was returned instead.

In 1976, Scotland Yard informed the CBI that it had got hold of the original pillars. In a happy ending, the stolen Yaksha pillars were returned to India in May 1977 and are now displayed at the National Museum in New Delhi.

The pillars were part of the exhibition titled ‘Re(ad)dressed: Return of the Treasures’ held during the 46th World Heritage UNESCO Convention at New Delhi in July this year. The focus of the exhibition was on the efforts made in recent years on the restitution of stolen artefacts of India by various countries. It also showcased 25 of the scores of art treasures restored in the last decade.

Sculptural pieces formed the largest component of the returned exhibits, as it was the favoured medium of artistic expression in the subcontinent. Most sculptures are abstracted idolised human forms that convey the key canons of the Hindu, Buddhist and Jain religions.

But how did India’s cultural wealth get plundered? Between the 17th and 19th centuries, there was an organised ‘loot’ of myriad treasures by the British, Danish, French and Portuguese powers that colonised Indian territories. According to art repatriation activist S Vijay Kumar, “Some of the Indian artworks were taken away under the concept of partage. In return for using their (colonialists’) expertise in archaeology, the colonial powers gave themselves the right to choose the best of the finds as payment.”

As the British Empire from the late 16th century to the 20th century lorded over a vast number of colonies, there are numerous such examples. “The British Museum, which houses more than 80 lakh artefacts like the Benin Bronzes and the Parthenon Marbles, possesses the most number of stolen goods,” says human rights lawyer Geoffrey Robertson. The plunder of Indian art didn’t stop with Independence and continued through a global network of smugglers, dealers and auction houses based in iconic art capitals of Europe and America.

The concern for repatriation dates back to the Roman Empire. Marcus Tullius Cicero, the Roman statesman, lawyer and philosopher, prosecuted Gaius Verres, the Roman magistrate in Sicily, for looting of ‘res sacera’ (sacred), ‘res publicae’ (public) and ‘res privatea’ (private) cultural objects.

India has a great precedent of taking up this cause in the early 20th century. In a farsighted private initiative, Russian artist Nicholas Roerich, who settled at Naggar village in Kullu valley of Himachal Pradesh, proposed a treaty in 1935 for the protection of cultural property during times of both war and peace. The Roerich Pact stipulated that historic monuments, museums, scientific, artistic, educational and cultural institutions have neutral status and that the personnel of those institutions should be ‘respected and protected’, in the same manner as medical personnel or other humanitarian actors in times of war.

Various international conventions, collaborations and treaties supported by UNESCO, Interpol and the Intergovernmental Committee for Promoting the Return of Cultural Property to its Countries of Origin (ICPRCP) have played a significant role. However, the greatest force behind cultural objects getting repatriated is the diplomatic goodwill among countries and museums across the world.

Restitution of art objects is a painstaking process, involving various legal, ethical, economic, socio-cultural bodies at the national and international levels. Many of the repatriated art pieces have fascinating historical narratives — highlighting not only their artistic value, but dramatic tales, too, of their thefts and subsequent homecomings. The co-curators of the exhibition, Manvi Seth and Juhi Sadiya, provided valuable insights in the exhibition brochure.

The repatriation of the sandstone sculpture of the ‘Parrot Lady’, dated 12th century CE, for instance, is a gripping narrative. It was illegally shipped from India to Edmonton, Canada, in January 2011 where it was detained by the vigilant Department of Canadian Heritage, due to lack of proper documentation. The Canadians reached out to the Indian High Commission to confirm if the sculpture was of Indian origin. The Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) sought information on the theft from its field office of Bhopal Circle. The ASI confirmed that the characteristic features of carving, the decoration and the style of the sculpture clearly indicated it to be of Indian origin, bearing a striking resemblance with similar sculptures of the temples of Khajuraho and other temples in Central India.

In 2015, the then Prime Minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, presented the ‘Parrot Lady’ to Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Ottawa. After its return, the sculpture was handed over to the Archaeological Museum at Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh.

Another important sculpture on display at the exhibition was ‘Pratyangira’. This 13th century Chola sculpture of Goddess Pratyangira was purchased by the National Gallery of Australia from an Indian art dealer in 2005. But, in 2015, it was found that the sculpture originally belonged to Sri Vriddhachalam temple, Tamil Nadu, as per the documentation records of the French Institute of Pondicherry. This contradicted the provenance supplied by the dealers, and it was flagged as a theft and a case was made out by the ASI for its restoration.

In August 2016, the Australian authorities approved its repatriation to India.

In the Indian tradition of sculptures, made both in stone and metal, it was not just one piece that was made, but rather a series of similar narrative pieces, with minor variations and artistic touches for depiction on temple walls. In bronzes, they were conceptualised as mobile deities.

‘Kaliyahimarddaka Krishna’ (Krishna Dancing on Kaliya) is a mythological image. It depicts the legend of Krishna overcoming Kaliya, a snake king who had been poisoning the waters of the sacred river Yamuna and terrorising the local population. A note by the Asia Society collection reads: “While he subdues Kaliya by dancing on the snake king’s hood of protective snakes, Krishna performs the gesture of reassurance to comfort his devotees. Once defeated, Kaliya himself became a devotee of Krishna, a transformation expressed by the snake king’s gesture of worship and expression of adoration towards his vanquisher. Krishna is one of the Hindu god Vishnu’s most popular incarnations and his life and romantic exploits are a favourite theme in Indian art and literature.”

'Mardala’, the sculpture of the female drummer, is one of the numerous lookalikes of the genre that can be seen beautifully carved on the walls of the Konark Temple in Odisha, in the 13th century CE. There are many sculptures of women playing musical instruments, along with sculptures of dancers, and women engaged in activities such as holding a mirror and smelling a lotus.

Recently, the Union Culture Secretary stated that the return of antiquities is going to be a key part of future policy. “It is of huge importance to the government,” he said. Of the 358 antiquities retrieved in the last 20 years, 345 have been brought back since 2014, he added. The United States has offered 1,440 artefacts in possession of its museums for repatriation.

It is not only the repatriation of antique art treasures that should worry Indian authorities, but pilferage of its modern heritage too. The repeated and brazen loot of the various unique furniture items designed by Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret, the legendary planner-architects of Chandigarh during the 1950s, which are now fetching astronomical prices, is alarming. The public outcry by heritage activists makes it to the headlines, but there has been a lack of serious effort to stop the international auctions and for repatriation of the items.

One hopes for the early return of the priceless art heritage that defines our civilisational ethos. It’s time our ‘cultural gods’ came back home.