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Understanding the Ideas of Cultural Hegemony and the Decolonization of Museums
Decolonization begins in museums. This was clear to Bénédicte Savoy, French art historian and restitution specialist, who resigned from the advisory board of the Humboldt Forum in Berlin in July 2017 to protest the museum’s unwillingness to fully acknowledge the colonial implications of its rich ethnological collection. Since then, many museums around the world, from Turin to Berlin, from Ottawa to Sydney, have finally begun to address the problematic issues of colonial exploitation and cultural hegemony that surround the acquisition of most of their artifacts.
Cultural Hegemony, According to Antonio Gramsci
Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci, 1933. Source: Wikimedia Commons
In some cases, to maintain power, the dominant group—whether a colonial government or a dictator—seeks the consent of subordinate groups. This consent is often fragile and filled with ambiguities due to the unequal power dynamic involved. As T.J. Jackson Lears writes in his The Concept of Cultural Hegemony, “Ruling groups never engineer consent with complete success; the outlook of subordinate groups is always divided and ambiguous.” Even when they appear to achieve stable success, dominant groups depend on the implementation of a critical process known as “cultural hegemony.” While there is no fixed definition for cultural hegemony, there is a man who has tried to define it in the context of Marxist philosophy. That man is Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci (1891-1937).
Mussolini inspecting Italian troops during the Italo-Ethiopian War. Source: The National WWII Museum
One of the most notable victims of the Fascist government, Gramsci was arrested in 1926 and spent the remainder of his life in prison, where he suffered from deteriorating health and ultimately died on April 27, 1937, aged 46. Despite his declining condition, he continued to write while incarcerated, creating his influential Prison Notebooks (Quaderni dal Carcere, in Italian), which were successfully smuggled out of prison in the 1930s.
Gramsci was not only a Marxist and anti-fascist philosopher but also a writer, journalist, and politician who keenly observed the effects of power on his fellow citizens. These observations allowed him to develop the concept of cultural hegemony, which refers to the cultural (and not only political) dominance imposed by the ruling class over their subjects through a carefully orchestrated propaganda campaign. While the concept of cultural hegemony is obviously linked to domination, it represents a more subtle form of control that doesn’t need to rely on force and physical coercion.
Armed anti-fascists leading a captured fascist leader through the streets of Rome, 1944. Source: The National WWII Museum
Cultural hegemony is a means of gaining the consent of the masses by dominating education and media to shape people’s perception to the extent that the worldview of the ruling class is eventually accepted and embraced also by society as a whole. Over time, this ruling class worldview becomes “the natural order of things,” accepted without question or challenge.
A key aspect of cultural hegemony is the complicity—nuanced, sometimes unwilling—of less powerful subordinate groups. Subordinate groups, Lears writes in discussing Gramsci’s notion of cultural hegemony, “may participate in maintaining a symbolic universe, even if it serves to legitimate their domination. In other words, they can share a kind of half-conscious complicity in their own victimization.” Gramsci, who spent much of his life under the Italian Fascist regime, witnessed such half-conscious complicity firsthand and understood it all too well.
Cultural Hegemony in European Museums
The British Museum in London, photograph by Nicolas Lysandrou. Source: Unsplash
The British Museum in London and the Louvre Museum in Paris are two of the most visited museums in Europe and the world. According to the museum’s website, “the Louvre’s collections are an invitation to travel — a celebration of beauty in all its forms and guises, transcending classification. At the Louvre, a small, everyday Egyptian chair is just as much a masterpiece as the most iconic works of the Italian Renaissance.”
While both the Louvre and the British Museum’s extensive collections can be seen as an ode to the beauty and power of art, they also serve as a testament to the impact of Europe’s colonial history and the imperialist drives of Great Britain and France in the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries. The same can be said of the Rijksmuseum, in Amsterdam, visited by thousands of tourists each year.
Kaygasiw Usul, mask made by Alick Tipoti, from Torres Strait Islands, Queensland, 2015. Source: British Museum
Among the thousands of artifacts it houses, the Dutch museum also displays paintings, such as Schuylenburgh’s The Trading Post of the Dutch East India Company in Hooghly, Bengal (1665), and objects associated with and/or celebrating the history of the Dutch East India Company—without fully addressing the company’s role in the Dutch colonial and imperial expansion—as well as colonial-era collections from two former Dutch colonies, present-day Indonesia and Suriname (formerly known as Dutch Guiana).
European (and American) museums are overflowing with artifacts from the Colonial Period. The British Museum, for example, houses thousands of Benin bronzes, sculptures, and relief plaques made of brass and bronze created from the early 16th century onwards for the royal court of the Oba (king) of the West African Kingdom of Benin, in what is now Nigeria.
Indian indentured laborers in Surinam, then a Dutch colony, photograph by Théodore van Lelyveld. Source: Rijksmuseum
Most of these pieces were looted by British soldiers when the British Army captured Benin City, the historic capital of the Kingdom of Benin, in February 1897, during the so-called Scramble for Africa. From then on, the entire region came under the control of the British Empire. Thousands of men died during and after the British took the city. The Oba’s palace was looted and burned, several Benin chiefs were executed and the last independent Benin king, Oba Ovonramwen (1857-1914), was exiled to Calabar.
Thousands of ceremonial objects, from statues and reliefs to ivory tusks and commemorative brass heads of former kings, were distributed among British soldiers as “spoils of war.” 304 bronzes found their way to London and many more were acquired in later years. Today various Benin artifacts are also on display in museums across Africa, from Benin City to Ibadan, from Lagos to Kaduna and Enugu, as well as in the National Commission for Museums and Monuments (NCMM).
British soldiers inside the Oba’s compound during the siege of Benin City photograph by Reginald Granville, February 1897. Source: Wikimedia Commons
Some can also be found at the Weltmuseum in Vienna, in the Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology in Cambridge, as well as in Stockholm and across the United States, in Chicago, New York, Boston, Washington, and Philadelphia. In Europe, however, most of them are in German museums, in Dresden, Hamburg, Cologne, Stuttgart, and Leipzig.
The controversy surrounding the Benin Bronzes continues as historians have pointed out that the Benin Kingdom, along with other West African kingdoms, played a crucial role in the transatlantic slave trade, capturing slaves that it later sold to the British in exchange for goods such as bronze. It was from these materials that the Benin Bronzes were made. Indeed, some argue that the Benin Bronzes are more than works of art stolen by colonial officials: they are objects created thanks to the suffering of thousands of Africans.
Decolonizing Art in Berlin…
The Humboldt Forum (and the Berlin Cathedral in the background), Berlin, Germany, 2023. Source: Wikimedia Commons
The Humboldt Forum proudly stands in the heart of Berlin, on Museum Island along the shores of the Spree. It is housed in the recently reconstructed Berlin Palace, which served as the residence of the House of the Hohenzollern from 1443 until 1918, directly across from the Berlin Cathedral and the Unter den Linden, a majestic boulevard that connects the Berlin Palace to the Brandenburg Gate and the (in)famous Bebelplatz. It was here, on the evening of May 10, 1933, that Nazi supporters burned some 20,000 books.
Since its opening in 2020, the Humboldt Forum has frequently been referred to as the “German British Museum,” a label that is both flattering and problematic. The Forum brings together two former museums, the Museum of Asian Art and the Ethnological Museum (Ethnologische Museum) of Berlin. Since 2010, the Ethnologische Museum has been at the forefront of discussions regarding restitution and decolonization.
Berlin, photograph by Adam Vradenburg, 2019. Source: Unsplash
Among the objects and art pieces displayed in its four wings is a sculpture of Surya, the Hindu sun god, from Eastern India, displayed not far from a Peruvian clay vessel of a monkey with a lime container. The presence of these objects on German soil, far from the place where they were conceived and created, tells a story of colonial exploitation and land appropriation—at best, it reflects economic transitions that occurred during a period of aggressive imperialism and unbalanced power dynamics.
This is particularly true for the extensive collection of Benin Bronzes displayed in the Humboldt Forum. In 2020, just days before the Forum’s inauguration, German Chancellor Angela Merkel received a letter from Nigeria’s ambassador demanding the return of the Benin Bronzes. Less than a year later, the Nigerian Federal Ministry of Information and Culture sent a written request to the British Museum asking for the repatriation of old “Nigerian antiquities,” including of course the Benin Bronzes.
King with two accompanying figures, housed in the Humboldt Forum as part of the Benin Bronzes collection, 16th century. Source: Staatliche Museen zu Berlin
Negotiations began in 2021. As of 2024, while the British Museum insists it is “open to discussion with partners in Nigeria,” boasting “excellent long-term working relationships with Nigeria colleagues and institutions.” In July 2022, the German and Nigerian governments signed a Joint Declaration, an agreement that entailed the transfer of ownership of more than 500 Benin Bronzes to the Nigerian state. About one-third of these artifacts will remain on loan in Berlin and be exhibited in the Humboldt Forum.
In August 2022, when the restitution of some of the Benin Bronzes to Nigeria was finalized, Claudia Roth, then German Minister of Culture, declared: “This return will serve as an example for all museums in Germany that have collections stemming from colonial contexts. I am very pleased that further agreements to return such collections will follow over the coming months.”
…and in New Zealand
Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa in Wellington. Source: Wikimedia Commons
In any post-colonial country, the process of decolonization is inextricably linked to the revitalization of Indigenous languages. Throughout the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, the Māori language (Te Reo Māori) is used alongside English on explanatory panels, a sign of respect that is being increasingly shown also in Canada. The name of the museum itself combines the two most widely spoken languages in Aotearoa/New Zealand, English and Māori.
Te Papa Tongarewa literally translates as “the container of treasures” but, as we read on the museum’s website, a more complete and nuanced interpretation is “our container of treasured things and people that spring from mother earth here in New Zealand.” It’s worth noting that the Māori term papa is typically used to describe both Mother Earth (Papatūānuku) and the traditional carved Māori treasure box called a papahou. And while Tongarewa refers to a semi-transparent type of greenstone, it can also be used to describe anything someone holds dear, including a loved one.
A Māori treasure box (papahou) owned by an unspecified tribe from the Bay of Plenty region in the North Island and today housed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, 18th century. Source: The Metropolitan Museum of Art
As we have seen, the Māori terms papa and tongarewa have a multitude of meanings and nuances that are difficult, if not impossible, to translate into English. When used together as part of the official name of the Museum of New Zealand, they serve to honor and celebrate the two dominant cultures at the heart of New Zealand society, the Māori and the pākehā (anyone of European and/or non-Māori descent).
Te Papa is more than just a museum. It is a leader of the Karanga Aotearoa Repatriation Program and works closely with Māori iwi to locate, identify, and negotiate the return of Māori ancestral skeletal remains (kōiwi tangata), Moriori remains (kōimi tangata/kōimi tchakat), and preserved Māori tattooed heads (Toi moko) to their rightful owners. Over two decades, from July 2003 to May 2024, according to the museum’s website, “Te Papa has repatriated 850 Māori and Moriori ancestral remains from overseas institutions, including from countries such as Australia, Austria, Canada, France, Germany, Sweden, the United Kingdom, the United States of America, and others.”
A Māori pā (village), 1880s. Source: Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa
The history of the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa in Wellington is also the history of Aotearoa/New Zealand. Te Papa’s predecessor was a tiny museum opened in 1865 behind Parliament’s buildings: its official name was the Colonial Museum. Some five decades later, it was renamed the Dominion Museum. In 1992, the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa Act established Te Papa from the merging of the National Museum of New Zealand and the National Art Gallery as “a forum for the nation to present, explore, and perverse the heritage of its cultures and knowledge of the natural environment in order to better understand and treasure the past, enrich the present and meet the challenges of the future.” Entry to Te Papa is free for all New Zealanders.
The Egyptian Museum in Turin, Italy
The Egyptian Museum (Museo Egizio) in Turin, Italy houses one of the largest collections of Egyptian artifacts in the whole world outside Egypt. Source: Museo Egizio
The Museo Egizio (Egyptian Museum) in Turin, the largest museum of Egyptian heritage outside Egypt, has a (relatively new) permanent exhibition room dedicated, according to the museum itself, to the study of the Egyptians’ attitudes to life and death through their relationship “with mummification and the concept of afterlife, starting from the study of human remains and the grave goods that in some cases accompany them.”
The ethical concerns surrounding the most appropriate (and less sensationalized) display of human remains are at the heart of the process of decolonization, and the Museo Egizio doesn’t shy away from addressing them. On September 30 and October 1, 2019, it hosted the conference Human Remains. Ethics, Conservation, Display, a follow-up to similar conferences held a few months earlier in Naples and Pompeii, with the declared aim of exploring and giving voice to different and interdisciplinary approaches.
From left to right: middle coffin, inner coffin, and mummy of Nesmutaatneru, Late Period, Dynasty 25, 760-660 BCE. Source: Museum of Fine Arts Boston
The Museum also launched a survey to gauge public opinion on the display of human remains in museums and display cases containing human remains throughout Museo Egizio are marked with a red triangle, giving visitors the choice to view or avoid these displays. For decades, museums around the world have sensationally showcased mummies, human remains, and artifacts acquired during the Colonial Period and treated them as scientific curiosities and/or trophies of war. For years in the 19th century, Westerners traded thousands of Toi Moko, the preserved Māori tattooed heads, for muskets during and after the Musket Wars in Aotearoa/New Zealand.
Scientists stole, dismembered, dissected, and ultimately transported the bodies of various Aboriginal Tasmanians to Great Britain for scientific study. Today, the tide has finally turned. We now know that the acquisition of these artifacts and human remains was enabled by a general climate of cultural hegemony, power imbalance, and outright violence.
Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto, Canada, photograph by Donna Lay, 2019. Source: Unsplash
In recent years, many museums around the world have finally begun to work with the governments and Indigenous communities of the countries where such artifacts were conceived and created to either determine the most appropriate and respectful treatment of human remains or to repatriate them. While some institutions have decided to replace human remains altogether with digital reconstructions, other museums have chosen to continue to display them and now provide full explanations of how and when such remains (and art objects) were acquired.
Other museums, such as the Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto, have begun to translate explanatory panels into the Indigenous languages of First Nations on whose lands the museums were built, showing the world that decolonization does indeed begin in the halls of our galleries and museums.