The Forum: Taking Issue

014

Don’t Overwork the Staff

My humble opinion is do not expand too quickly—you are still in the infancy stage.

Your magazine is well-written and wonderful, but an overworked staff is not productive and may lose the zest for your magazine.

It’s really the staff that is pushing me. See this issue’s Editors’ Page.—H.S.

Reviving the Dead

You have brought life and color to an area of scholarship that has for far too long been quite literally a “dead issue.”

Rude Editor

Kathleen Quinn’s letter regarding the antiquities market addresses a legitimate concern (“Horrified by Antiquities Ads,” The Forum, AO 01:03). Hershel Shanks’s reply takes on the shrill tone of someone protecting advertising interests. Indirectly accusing Ms. Quinn of having false “fuzzy” feelings and of being a “one-note johnny” is rude.

I agree with the view that the Royal-Athena Galleries is a fine institution, but the way to address people such as Ms. Quinn is through kind, straightforward reasoning, not defensive missives.

My remarks were directed not at Ms. Quinn, but at the archaeological establishment that supposes the problem of looting can be solved by putting antiquities dealers out of business. If I seemed to be addressing my remarks to—or, rather, at—Ms. Quinn herself, I apologize.—H.S.

Privatize Archaeological Sites

One of your readers addressed the highly important issue of looting and grave robbing. While it is necessary to protect sites and prosecute offenders, doing so is costly and usually ineffective. Although looted goods can sometimes be recovered, their 015invaluable archaeological context cannot; thus mankind is robbed of the opportunity to study cultural material in situ.

One suggestion: Why not experiment in the privatization of archaeological sites? Private collectors and museums might agree simply to buy archaeological sites themselves, rather than buying plundered works of art from shady art dealers, thus saving money in the long run. For their investment and, most important, their agreement to excavate and document all sites properly, the new owners would have claim to any artifacts removed from the site. Certainly this is not an ideal solution, but it is something to consider before all the important sites are gone forever.

Elgin Marbles

Can We Read the Elgin Marbles?

In the article by Jacob Rothenberg, “Lord Elgin’s Marbles,” AO 01:02, the photo caption states that the metopes depicting the Centaurs fighting the mysterious Lapiths were placed beneath the east and west pediments of the Parthenon. These scenes actually ran along the south side (long axis) of the temple dedicated to Athena. [Mr. Johnson is correct.—Ed.]

Does the order of the sculptures tell a story? On the east pediment were sculptures representing Athena’s birth from the head of Zeus; beneath the east pediment were metopes depicting the gods defeating the giants. On the west pediment was depicted the so-called contest between Poseidon and Athena for control of Attica; beneath it were metopes of the Greeks fighting Amazons. The south metopes (long axis) showed the Lapiths versus Centaurs. The north metopes (long axis) depicted the sack of Troy.

Around the temple’s main chamber (cella) ran a continuous frieze depicting the Panathenaic Festival. The raison d’etre of this annual festival—depicted over the sacred east entrance doors—was the presentation to Athena of a newly woven and embroidered peplos, or cloak.

It is difficult to keep straight the various scenes and their respective locations on Athena’s temple because what passes for explanation today makes them seem irrelevant to us. The battle between the Lapiths and Centaurs, for example, supposedly represents the struggle between 018civilization and barbarism. But why would Athenians choose Lapiths (literally, “stone people”) instead of themselves to represent civilization? Have archaeologists turned up any Lapith sites? Why did these Lapiths invite barbarian sots to a civilized wedding in the first place? And what does it mean that the Centaurs carried off many of their women?

Furthermore, the significance of the annual presentation of Athena’s cloak remains a mystery, even though the Athenians celebrated the Panathenaic Festival for over 1,000 years.

We look to ancient Greece as the very basis of our culture. The ancient Greeks looked to Athens. The Athenians looked to their Acropolis and the great temple of their goddess. This makes the Parthenon a focal point of our civilization, and yet our comprehension of its message remains murky at best. Perhaps it is time to take a fresh look at the Parthenon, its goddess and the meaning of its sculptures.

Keep Them in the British Museum

In 1976, when I traveled to Greece, I was shocked to learn that portions of the beautiful marbles from the Acropolis had been removed to the British Museum.

But now, having been to London several times, I realize that Phidias’s fifth-century B.C. sculptures are wonderfully displayed and in good condition. If they had been left on the Acropolis, they would have weathered very badly.

So leave the Marbles where they are, prominently displayed in the British Museum in London (See “Lord Elgin’s Marbles: An Odyssey Debate,” AO 01:02).

Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

Your Spring issue tells the story of “Lord Elgin’s Marbles,” AO 01:02. The English certainly understand the importance of cultural heritage. Earlier in this century, when the original manuscript of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland was sold to an American buyer, all England was in an uproar. A public subscription was initiated. School children from all over England donated money to the fund. They did not rest until enough money was raised to buy the manuscript back from America. The manuscript now rests in a position of honor in the library of the British Museum.

Setting the Record Straight

Congratulations for publishing a lively debate on the fate of the Elgin Marbles (“Lord Elgin’s Marbles: An Odyssey Debate,” AO 01:02) and the short article on the British Museum’s unfortunate attempted restoration (“Skinned Alive,” Field Notes, AO 01:03).

However, a letter in your Summer issue (“Repatriate the Elgin Marbles to the Pagans,” The Forum, AO 01:03) questions whether we should “return the great artifacts of ancient Greek democracy to modern Greek dictators.” The 020writer is obviously not acquainted with the political scene in Greece. The military regime in Greece ceased to exist in 1974, when it was overthrown and replaced by democracy. Greece has had a democratic system of government for the past 24 years!

Etruscans

Bravi and Excelsior

As members of an Italian-American educational organization, we were thrilled to see coverage of the Etruscans in your Summer 1998 issue. All roads lead not only to Rome; they also lead, as your wonderful articles illustrate, to this great Italic civilization. Bravi and excelsior!

Ramesseses Everywhere

In “The Etruscans: Mastering the Delicate Art of Living,” AO 01:03, Ingrid D. Rowland has Merneptah ruling before his father, Ramesses II. Did she mean Ramesses III, during whose reign an invasion of the Sea Peoples was repelled from the coast of the Egyptian delta?

Ms. Wilson is correct: The reference should have been to Ramesses III.—Ed.

Etruscans in Valhalla?

Rex Wallace (“How to Read Etruscan,” sidebar to “The Etruscans: Mastering the Delicate Art of Living,” AO 01:03) states that the Etruscan word for “gods” is aiser. I believe the Norse pantheon of gods is called aesir. Could there be some connection?

Rex E. Wallace replies:

The Old Norse word for “gods” is not connected with the Etruscan word, even though the plurals bear an apparent similarity. The Old Norse word derives from the Germanic stem ansu-, originally meaning “wooden beam” or “post.”

But the Etruscan stem ais– is interesting for another reason. It is found in several ancient Italic languages: for example, Oscan, Marrucinian, Marsian and Paelignian. The difficult question involves the stem’s transmission: Was it originally an Etruscan stem borrowed by other Italic speakers, or was it originally Italic and borrowed by the Etruscans? My own feeling is that ais– was borrowed by the Etruscans from one of the east Italic languages, perhaps Umbrian or Sabine.

016

Nefertiti Was Not Abducted

In Editors’ page, AO 01:02, Hershel Shanks discussed the difficult issue of repatriation of artifacts and mentions, as a parenthetical aside, that “The famous head of Nefertiti, now in the Berlin, was clandestinely smuggled out of Egypt by German excavators in violation of a specific agreement relating to the distribution of finds.” This charge has been repeated so often that many people, even in Germany, believe it, although it has never been sustantiated. It is difficult to determine exactly when and how is rumor arose, but it seems to be ineradicable.

The German Oriental Society (Deutsche Orient-Gesellschaft) celebrated its 100th anniversary this year, and this celebration provided an incentive to reexamine the history of the society, which organized and financed famous excavations at Babylon, Assur, Hattusha and Uruk—and also at Tell el-Amarna, where the famous Nefertiti was found.

In the course of this reexamination we discovered an interesting piece of new evidence demonstrating that the head of Nefertiti was acquired in a legal transaction between German excavators and the Egyptian authorities.

This newly discovered evidence is a copy of a letter written on August 12, 1924, by Bruno Güterbock (the copy is initialed by Güterbock) to Professor Güther Roeder, an Egyptologist who apparently had asked Güterbock for information about the circumstances of the acquisition of Nefertiti. Güterbock had served the German Oriental Society’s secretary and remained its spiritus rector for 35 years.

The Amarna excavations took place between 1911 and 1914. This 1924 letter shows that just a decade later, speculation and rumor about this matter were rife. Güterbock marked his letter “strictly confidential” (“Streng vertraulich!”).

This letter reveals the real story by an eyewitness. Güterbock tells Roeder, he himself happened to be in Armarna when the representitive of the Egyptian Administration of Antiquities showed up for the official division of finds.

The procedure for determining the division of finds is reflected in a protocol, a copy of which Güterbock enclosed with his letter to Roeder. It contained the usual Solomonic precedure: The excavator was to divide the finds into two equal shares without knowing which he would be allowed to take home with him; the Egyptian representative had the right to make the choice.

Güterbock vividly describes the situation shortly before this crucial moment (I translate this from German): “You can imagine that we all had very little hope that this wonderful piece would not go to Cairo, so little, that on the evening before Lefebvre’s [the Egyptian representative’s] arrival, all the inhabitants of the dig house walked in solemn procession, candle in hand,to the storeroom to bid our farewell—we did not expect anything else— to the ‘colored queen’ (bunte Königin) [the Nefertiti bust]. Later, though, [Ludwig] Borchardt [the German excavation director] negotiated in such a clever way that she fell to the German side.”

Borchardt’s “cleverness” was quite simple: He marked the Nefertiti head No. 1 of one share and another highly important find, which he knew would be extremely interesting and attractive to the director of the Egyptian Antiquities Service, as No. 1 of the second share, hoping that the Egyptians would choose the latter share, which is what happened.

There is no doubt that the excavators badly wanted to keep the Nefertiti; it is also true that not everything they did was beyond reproach. For instance, they did not show their best photograph of the head to the Egyptian representative, but, as Güterbock observed, “No excavator is obliged to almost point out the beauty of his finds” (“Aber ich meine, kein Ausgräber ist doch wohl verpflichtet, den Kommissar auf die Schönheit seiner Funde geradezu zu stossen”), In fact, the Egyptian representative could not really be deceived; he was authorized to examine any object, and the boxes with the finds were still open.

Less acceptable might have been Borchardt’s decision to list the head as made of gypsum. Gypsum is indeed the surface material of the bust, but the core is limestone, which was only partially visible at the time. Borchardt was afraid that all stone objects would have to go to Cairo (that at least had been the procedure for another part of the excavation). As it turned out this “precaution” (Güterbock’s ironical remark) was unnecessary: Other stone objects were allowed to go to Berlin as well.

When rumors arrose that Nefertiti had not been legally acquired, Borchardt was hesitant to publish relevant parts of the protocol, which only increased the speculation.

But as Güterbock summarizes at the end of his letter, “Nefertiti’s bust has not at all been hidden from the representative of the Egyptian Administration of Antiquities; it was shown to him in photography 18/24 and subsequently he was shown the original. In the protocol of the division, it is listed at the top as No. 1.”

The letter also provides a clue as to why speculation about the legality of the acquisition arose and spread. The relationship between Borchardt and the board of the German Oriental Society has been somewhat strained ever since Borchardt’s earlier excavations at Abusir, a site with some early pyramids.

Disagreements also arose concerning the publication of the excavations at Tell el-Amarna. The society’s board pressed for prompt publication—at that time no less difficult than often is the the case today. Borchardt insisted on his right to publish the Nefertiti head, but he seems to have considered it unwise to publish it as long as he hoped for a continuation of the excavation. The failure to publish it may well have fueled speculation that there was soemthing improper or illegal in its acquisition. In his letter Güterbock refers to Borchardt’s insistance on keeping the acquisition secret: “Since doubts like these had to come up, Borchardt also is to be blamed. Despite all the warnings and opposition on Schäfer’s [the director of Berlin Egyptian Museum’s] side, mine and others’, he [Borchardt] has his way in keeping the beautiful piece a secret for such a long time—and at the same time not keeping it a secret. Not only did the Emperor…repeatedly send foreign ‘friends’ to the museum to have a look at the original; Borchardt himself (!) took several people…to [see] this piece of art.”

The testimony of Bruno Güterbock’s letter makes it clear that we should stop talking—and writing—about Nefertiti’s abduction.

020

Don’t Overwork the Staff
My humble opinion is do not expand too quickly—you are still in the infancy stage.