Law, Morals and the Parthenon Marbles

Treachery, subterfuge and "a steady flow of bribes." Writer Bruce Clark unpicks the dubious legality of Lord Elgin's removal of the Parthenon sculptures.

When Melina Mercouri went to London in 1983, she put the point in her own inimitable way: “This is a moral issue more than a legal issue.” Kyriakos Mitsotakis took a similar line in November when he visited his counterpart Boris Johnson and declared that the sculptures were stolen – a view which Johnson himself, in his student days, had espoused.

The British Museum’s position is diametrically opposed. Its website argues that Elgin acted with the full knowledge and permission of the legal authorities of the day in both Athens and London. Lord Elgin’s activities were thoroughly investigated by a Parliamentary Select Committee in 1816 and found to be entirely legal.

Provocative as it sounds to most Greek ears, the case for the legality of the marbles’ transfer is worth studying. It rests mainly on a document that was apparently issued by an Ottoman official, the kaymakam, at the request of the British embassy to the High Porte, around the beginning of July 1801. It emerged at a high point in Anglo-Ottoman relations, when the two powers were acting in lockstep to expel Napoleon’s forces from Egypt. It was not, strictly speaking, a firman – a term which refers to a decree issued by the sultan himself. But the kaymakam was a high-ranking figure.

Its terms had virtually been dictated by Elgin’s assistant, a shrewd Anglican cleric, Philip Hunt. It allowed a team of mainly Italian artists employed by Elgin to visit the Acropolis, which was also the Ottoman garrison, make drawings and moulds of the antiquities, and specified that …“When they wish to take away some pieces of stone with old inscriptions, and figures, no opposition be made…”

Historians agree that when that text was issued it was understood to refer to picking up objects from or below the ground. (Ever since the explosion of 1687, when a Venetian mortar bomb ignited an Ottoman powder-keg and blew the roof off the Parthenon, plenty of valuable debris had been scattered around on the citadel).

In the course of July 1801, Anglo-Ottoman relations became closer still as fears grew that Napoleon might invade Greece. Hunt was sent back to Athens – on a mission to stiffen the backs of the Ottoman commanders. As he boasted afterwards, this provided an opportunity to “stretch” the meaning of the permit and remove sculptures that were still attached to the temples. In the careful words of historian William St Clair, “Lord Elgin’s agents, by a mixture of cajolery, bribes and threats, persuaded and bullied the Ottoman authorities in Athens to exceed the terms” of the kaymakam’s decree.

As Elgin would later explain, such a document was in any case not the last word – it was a basis for negotiation with local officials, and it did not preclude the need to keep up a steady flow of bribes to ensure that the stripping of the Acropolis continued unimpeded.

Conveniently for Elgin, the post of disdar, or head of the Acropolis garrison, changed hands in mid-1801, as an elderly incumbent, who’d made a steady income in bribes, passed away and the job was taken over by his son. The new disdar felt trapped in the middle of a high-stakes transaction, and he feared dire punishment if he miscalculated. Elgin and his associates made sure that he remained frightened. In May 1802, the disdar became anxious that he might get into trouble with his Ottoman masters because he had been slightly too zealous in accommodating Elgin’s project. But as Lady Elgin smugly reported, one of her husband’s agents “whistled in his lug (ear)” that he had nothing to fear. Or to put it another way, “You have nothing to fear but us…”

Even then, the Ottoman attitude to the legality of the project was never a settled matter. In autumn of 1802, both the disdar and the voivode (governor) of Athens became worried that they might get in trouble with the Porte, because the existing text did not justify the mass stripping which was in progress. Elgin duly procured a fresh document which retroactively legalized the actions of the two officials.

But then fast-forward to 1808, by which time the kaleidoscope had shifted: the Ottomans were at peace with France and spasmodically at war with the British. Many of the sculptures collected by Elgin were still in Greece.

A new British envoy to the Porte tried to get the sculptures released, and was bluntly told that Elgin’s entire operation had been illegal. Only after January of 1809, with the signature of a new Anglo-Ottoman treaty, did the atmosphere change, leading to a fresh document that enabled the export of the sculptures to resume.

During the parliamentary investigation which the British Museum mentions, Elgin was questioned hard as to whether he had abused his position as ambassador to pursue a personal transaction; he replied, absurdly, that, in his antiquarian activities, he was no different from any private archaeologist. But many legislators were unconvinced.

It seemed obvious that the objects for which Elgin was about to be paid £35,000 had been obtained by careful exploitation of diplomatic privilege and of the sweet state of Anglo-Ottoman relations. Elgin got his money, but that does not mean he was believed.

Is this really the kind of behaviour on which British officials should be basing their case? By stressing the very dubious argument for the legality of Elgin’s actions, they risk drawing further attention to the fundamental moral issues.

* Bruce Clark writes for The Economist on history, culture and ideas. He is author of his latest book “Athens: City of Wisdom.”

This article was previously published in Greek at kathimerini.gr, 18 February 2022

Bruce Clark also contributed his article 'Stealing Beauty' to BCRPM's articles section of this website. 

20 June 2019

The New Acropolis Museum was officially inaugurated on 20 June 2009 and celebrates this year 10 tremendous years of successful activity. It has grown to be one of the best museums in the world and has received over 14.5 million of visitors. Between 13 and 20 of June the Museum has organised a series of festivities to commemorate its anniversary, with as a major event – on June 20 – the opening of the archaeological excavation underneath the museum. The architectural remains of Late Antiquity (4^th-7^th century AD) excavated during the construction of the museum give an unrivalled insight into the everyday life of an ancient neighbourhood at the foot of the Acropolis. From 21 June 2019 , this new archaeological site will be open to the public.

The history of the New Acropolis Museum goes back to the 1970s. The museum built on the Acropolis itself, whose initially construction dates to the 19^th century, was by then outdated and could no longer cope adequately with the large number of visitors. Moreover, important restoration and conservation works carried out on the monuments of the Acropolis from 1975 on rendered the exhibition space in the old museum too small to accommodate the sculptures that were being taken down from the various Acropolis buildings to preserve and conserve them from the urban pollution.

In 1976, less than two years after the restoration of democracy in Greece, President Constantinos Karamanlis conceived plans for the construction of a new Acropolis Museum and selected the site upon which the Museum was finally built, located in the historic neighbourhood of Makryianni, a natural extension of the south slope of the Acropolis hill. Between 1976 and 2000, no fewer than four architectural competitions were conducted, before the award finally went to the project by design architects Bernard Tschumi, Michael Photiadis and their associates.

The New Acropolis Museum is a three-storey building facing the Acropolis, a transparent construction of structural concrete, stainless steel and marble, with liberal use of glass for the facades and part of the floor. It achieves an interplay between the museum, where the antiquities of all periods of the Acropolis are on display, floating over the in-site excavation, and panoramic views on the Acropolis and the city. The concept of the building is ingenious, divided over four levels: the ground floor of the Museum is suspended on pylons over the archaeological excavation; a gentle slope ending up in a monumental staircase connects the ground floor with the first floor; the top floor or Parthenon Gallery is arranged around an indoor court and rotates slightly so that its orientation corresponds exactly to the orientation of the nearby Parthenon temple. The concept of the Acropolis Museum can thus be seen as an evocation of the topography of the Acropolis in ancient times: a Sacred Way leads visitors from the city up the slope of the Acropolis hill, then up the steps towards and through the Propylaea to the Parthenon.

The display of the artefacts in the Museum strengthens this image. The ruins of part of the ancient city of Athens are situated on the lowest level. The finds excavated on the slopes of the Acropolis in secondary temples, shrines and caves, are on display on the ground floor, along the gentle sloping path. The numerous sculptures and architectural fragments – most of them unique treasures of art – found on the Acropolis, including parts of the Archaic temples, the Erechtheion, the temple of Athena Nike and the Propylaea, are presented on the first floor and can be viewed from all sides. The ambient natural light in the exhibition rooms, changing throughout the day, particularly suits the sculptures on display. The top floor is dedicated to the surviving Parthenon sculptures in Athens, completed with plaster casts of the sculptures actually on display in the British Museum in London. This juxtaposition of original parts with plaster copies underlines the call for the return of the originals in the British Museum. The display in Athens (unlike that in the BM’s Duveen Gallery) is exquisite, the sculptures can be seen exactly as they were placed on the Parthenon, but in a lowered position for the convenience of the visitor. The glass enclosure provides ideal light and enables direct view on the context of the original environment of the Parthenon Sculptures.

The New Acropolis Museum is a thematic archaeological museum, geographically limited to the finds of the Acropolis, the slopes of the hill and its monuments, chronologically limited to artefacts dating from the earliest period to Late Antiquity. It is a “living” museum, constantly in motion and constantly replenishing its exhibition with new finds, as a result of the ongoing archaeological research and the restoration works conducted in the area by members of the Greek Archaeological Service.

In just 10 years, the Acropolis Museum has grown into a leading world museum, with a highly scientific programme, a very competent restoration and conservation department, a strong cultural-museological management, and a suite of dynamic projects for the future. Therefore, one can only regret the more deeply that not all surviving parts of the Parthenon Sculptures – a number of them are dispersed in other museums and collections besides the British Museum – are today reunited in this beautiful museum.

The most important collection of Parthenon Sculptures abroad is actually on – poor – display in the British Museumin London. They were “taken” by the British diplomat Lord Elgin with a view to decorating his mansion in Scotland, at the beginning of the 19^th century, at a time when Greece was under Ottoman rule. In the process several were destroyed. Financial problems too meant that he had to sell the Sculptures, which finally were purchased from Lord Elgin by Act of the British Parliament and entrusted to the care of the Trustees of the British Museum. The young free Hellenic State began negotiations for the return of the Sculptures as early as 1842. A crucial turning point came in 1984 when Melina Mercouri, then Minister of Culture, made a formal request to the British Museum for the return of the Sculptures to Greece and simultaneously a request to UNESCO, which was immediately entered on the agenda of the Intergovernmental Committee on the Return of Cultural Goods to the Countries of Origin. The claim from Greek governmental side for the return of the Parthenon Sculptures is regularly repeated, without reference to legality, but the stance of the British Museum Director and Trustees – a harsh ‘no’, without even a willingness to enter into formal discussions – remains unchanged until today.

The reunification of the Parthenon Sculptures in the Acropolis Museum in Athens is not only a claim made by Greece. It is supported by International Cultural Organisations and by individuals worldwide. The International Association for the Reunification of the Parthenon Sculptures (IARPS), founded in 2005 and consisting of 20 national committees, spread over 18 countries, supports the claim for reunification, in close collaboration with the Greek authorities, who do not wish to engage in litigation at this moment, but prefer a policy of cultural diplomacy. A policy line that the IARPS respects. New approaches are therefore necessary to reach a breakthrough in the dispute. As the Parthenon Sculptures were made for and constitute an intrinsic part of the Parthenon temple on the Acropolis – an emblematic building, symbol of Western Democracy and recognised as a World Cultural Heritage, it is above all, a moral obligation to return and to reunify all the surviving Parthenon Sculptures in the Acropolis Museum, where they are in direct visual contact with the Parthenon temple. Only in this way they can continue satisfactorily to fulfil their mission: testimony of the great craftsmanship of the ancient sculptors in the 5^th century BC and a reminder of the origins of Democracy.

Dr Christiane Tytgat

Historian - Archaeologist

President International Association for the Reunification of the Parthenon Sculptures

President of the Belgian Committee for the Reunification of the Parthenon Sculptures

How the Much-Debated Elgin Marbles Ended Up in England
The author of a new book, Bruce Clarkand his latest article published 11 January 2022, in the Smithsonian Magazine.

When Thomas Bruce, Seventh Earl of Elgin, arrived in the city he knew as Constantinople—today’s Istanbul—in November 1799, he had every reason to hope that his mission as Britain’s ambassador to the Ottoman sultan would be a spectacular success.

A year earlier, Napoleon had invadedOttoman Egypt, and Britain hoped to become the sultan’s main ally in reversing the French conquest. The dispatch from London of a well-connected diplomat descended from the kings of Scotland was itself a gesture of friendship toward the Turks. Then 33 years old, Elgin was an experienced statesman who had previously served as a British envoy in Brussels and Berlin.

As well as competing in geopolitics, the British were vying with the French for access to whatever remained of the great civilizations of antiquity. On this front, too, Elgin was confident of faring well. His marriage in March 1799 to a wealthy heiress, Mary Nisbet, had given him the financial means to sponsor ambitious cultural projects. While traveling through Europe en route to Constantinople, he recruited a team of mostly Italian artists led by the Neapolitan painter Giovanni-Battista Lusieri. Their initial task was to draw, document and mold antiquities in the Ottoman-controlled territory of Greece, thus preserving these ancient treasures on paper and canvas, in part for the edification of Elgin’s countrymen, most of whom would never otherwise see Athens’ statues, temples and friezes.

From the start, though, the artists’ mandate was shrouded in careful ambivalence. Elgin declaredthat simply capturing images of the treasures would be “beneficial to the progress of the fine arts” in his home country. But in more private moments, he didn’t conceal his determination to decorate his home in Scotland with artifacts extracted from Greece. “This … offers me the means of placing, in a useful, distinguished and agreeable way, the various things that you may perhaps be able to procure for me,” he wrote to Lusieri.

The initially cloudy mission of Elgin’s artistic team culminated in a massive campaign to dismantle artworks from the temples on the Acropolis and transport them to Britain. Elgin’s haul—representing more than half of the surviving sculptures on the Athenian citadel—included most of the art adorning the Parthenon, the greatest of the Acropolis temples, and one of the six robed maidens, or caryatids, that adorned the smaller Erechtheion temple. Large sections of the Parthenon frieze, an extraordinary series of relief sculptures depicting a mysterious procession of chariots, animals and people, numbered among the loot.

Among critics, the removal of the so-called Elgin Marbles has long been described as an egregious act of imperial plunder. Greeks find it especially galling that Elgin negotiated the removal of such treasures with the Ottoman Empire, a foreign power that cared little for Hellenic heritage. Calls to return the sculptures to Athens began in Elgin’s own day and continue now: While in London in November 2021, Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis stated plainly that Elgin “stole” the ancient artworks. (The British Museum, for its part, has always insisted that its mandate of displaying its collections for the purpose of public education does not allow it to simply give objects away.)

Does Elgin deserve his terrible reputation? He certainly derived little personal happiness from his antiquarian acquisitions. While making his way back to Britain in 1803, he was detained in France by the government. He returned to his native shores three years later, in 1806, only to find that many of the artifacts he had collected were still stuck in Greece. Getting them to England would take six more years: Beginning in 1807, the earl was involved in acrimonious divorce proceedings that left his finances in ruins, and he had to implore the state to buy the objects whose extraction he had financed. In the end, the government acquired the trove for £35,000—less than half of what Elgin claimed to have spent employing Lusieri and his team, arranging sea transport, and bribing Ottoman officials. He was denounced as a vandal in sonorous verses by the poet Lord Byron, a fellow member of the Anglo-Scottish aristocracy, and the broader British public alike. If Elgin deserved punishment, he got a good deal of it in his own lifetime. But in the eyes of posterity, he has fared still worse.

In blurring the line between documenting the antiquities of Greece and taking them away, Elgin was following a template created two decades earlier by the French. A promising French artist, Louis-Francois-Sebastian Fauvel, received an assignment in 1784 from his country’s ambassador to the Ottoman sultan to make exact drawings and casts of Greek antiquities. By 1788, the French envoy was urging his young protégé, then at work on the Acropolis, to go much further than drawing or molding: “Remove all that you can, do not neglect any means, my dear Fauvel, of plundering in Athens and its territory all that is to be plundered.” After his diplomatic boss fell out of grace amid the French Revolution, Fauvel became an antiquarian and energetic looter in his own right. When Elgin took up his post in Istanbul in 1799, he and his compatriots saw it as their patriotic duty to outdo the French in this race to grab history.

Also of note is the fact that Elgin was often surrounded by people whose zeal for the removal of Greek antiquities outpaced his own. These individuals included his ultra-wealthy parents-in-law, whose money ultimately made the operation possible, and the shrewd English clergyman Philip Hunt, who worked as Elgin’s personal assistant. When he learned of his appointment to Elgin’s staff, Hunt explained to his father that the job seemed a “brilliant opportunity of improving my mind and laying the foundation of a splendid fortune.”

In spring 1801, Hunt went to Athens to assess the progress being made by Lusieri and his artistic team. He realized that simply gaining access to the Acropolis, which also served as the Ottoman garrison, would require a burdensome series of presents and bribes to local officials. The only solution, he concluded, was to secure an all-purpose permit from some high-ranking person in the entourage of the sultan. By early July, Hunt had induced the deputy to the grand vizier to issue a paper that would allow Elgin’s team to work unimpeded on the Acropolis: to draw, excavate, erect scaffolding and “take away some pieces of stone with old figures or inscriptions,” as the permit put it.

Over the following month, the situation devolved rapidly. With Napoleon apparently on the verge of invading Greece, Hunt was sent back to Athens on a fresh mission: to reassure Ottoman officials of British support and ward off any temptation to collaborate with the French. Seeing how highly the Ottomans valued their alliance with the British, Hunt spotted an opportunity for a further, decisive extension of the Acropolis project. With a nod from the sultan’s representative in Athens—who at the time would have been scared to deny a Briton anything—Hunt set about removing the sculptures that still adorned the upper reaches of the Parthenon. This went much further than anyone had imagined possible a few weeks earlier. On July 31, the first of the high-standing sculptures was hauled down, inaugurating a program of systematic stripping, with scores of locals working under Lusieri’s enthusiastic supervision.

Whatever the roles of Hunt and Lusieri, Elgin himself cannot escape ultimate responsibility for the dismantling of the Acropolis. Hunt at one point suggested removing all six of the caryatid maidens if a ship could be found to take them away; Elgin duly tried find a vessel, but none were available.

Still, once back in England, Elgin adamantly claimed that he had merely been securing the survival of precious objects that would otherwise have disappeared. In evidence provided to a parliamentary committee, he insisted that “in amassing these remains of antiquity for the benefit of my country, and in rescuing them from imminent and unavoidable destruction with which they were threatened, … I have been actuated by no motives of private emolument.” Betraying the bigotries of the day, Elgin argued that if the sculptures had remained in Athens, they would have been “the prey of mischievous Turks who mutilated [them] for wanton amusement, or for the purpose of selling them to piecemeal to occasional travelers.” He outlined examples of numerous important Greek monuments that had disappeared or been damaged during the previous half-century. In offering these justifications, he was trying to persuade the committee that he had enlarged the scope of his antiquarian project—from merely drawing or molding ancient sculptures to taking them away—only when it became clear to him that the unique treasures were in danger.

There are plenty of reasons to be skeptical of these claims. Upon his arrival in Istanbul, the earl had declared an interest in decorating his own house with ancient treasures. But even if Elgin’s argument was dishonest, his point about the likely fate of the artifacts, given the geopolitical situation at the dawn of the 19th century, is a serious one. We can assess its merit in light of what actually happened to the sculptures that stayed on the Acropolis (because Elgin’s people didn’t quite manage to remove them all) versus those that were shipped to England.

Contrary to Elgin’s stated fears, the sculptures that remained in Athens did not vanish. After 1833, when the Ottomans left the Acropolis and handed it to the new nation of Greece, the great citadel and its monuments became a focus of national pride. Protecting, restoring and showcasing the legacy of the Athenian golden age has been the highest priority for every Greek government since then.

 Of course, the monuments and artifacts of the Holy Rock, as Greeks call it, have not entirely escaped damage. Scorch marks from a fire during the 1820s Greek War of Independence, during which the Acropolis changed hands several times, remain visible today. In recent years, the contours of some sculptures have been worn away by air pollution—a problem that was particularly acute in the 1980s. But Elgin’s people also caused damage, both to the sculptures they removed and to the underlying structure of the Parthenon. (“I have been obliged to be a little barbarous,” Lusieri once wrote to Elgin.) Then there were the marbles that sankon one of Elgin’s ships in 1802 and were only salvaged three years later. Even after they arrived at the British Museum, the sculptures received imperfect care. In 1938, for example, they were “cleaned” with an acid solution.

With the benefit of two centuries of hindsight, Elgin’s claim that his removal of treasures from the Acropolis was a noble act, in either its intention or its result, is dubious at best. Still, the earl’s professed concern for the preservation of the glories of ancient Athens raises an interesting line of thought. Suppose that among his mixture of motives—personal aggrandizement, rivalry with the French and so on—the welfare of the sculptures actually had been Elgin’s primary concern. How could that purpose best be served today? Perhaps by placing the Acropolis sculptures in a place where they would be extremely safe, extremely well conserved and superbly displayed for the enjoyment of all? The Acropolis Museum, which opened in 2009 at the foot of the Parthenon, is an ideal candidate; it was built with the goal of eventually housing all of the surviving elements of the Parthenon frieze.

Of the original 524-foot-long frieze, about half is now in London, while another third is in Athens. Much smaller fragments are scattered elsewhere around the globe. The Acropolis Museum’s magnificent glass gallery, bathed in Greek sunlight and offering a clear view of the Parthenon, would be a perfect place to reintegrate the frieze and allow visitors to ponder its meaning. After all, British scholars and cultural figures who advocate for the sculptures’ return to Athens are careful to frame their arguments in terms of “reunifying” a single work of art that should never have been broken up.

That, surely, is a vision that all manner of people can reasonably embrace, regardless of whether they see Elgin as a robber or give him some credit as a preservationist. If the earl really cared about the marbles, and if he were with us today, he would want to see them in Athens now.

Bruce Clark wrote this article for the Smithsonian Magazine and it was published online on 11 Janyary 2022.

Worth watching and listening to the many voices that continue to be inspired by the Parthenon and it's unique and iconic location on the Acropolis Hill. The images are arresting, as is the 15 million plus global visitors to date that have discovered the meaning of so many artefacts. The Acropolis Museum is an experience that many more will continue to enjoy for years and decades and centuries to follow.

As the world continues to look to the UK Prime Minister, his government & the British Museum, for the will and understanding that is needed to facilitate the reunification of the Parthenon Marbles, the Hellenic American Chamber of Commerce hosted an online event on Saturday 10 April 2021, which included a virtual tour of the Acropolis Museum with Professor Pandermalis. The event was beautifully hosted by Chryssa Avrami. You can watch the event by following the link here.

After the welcome to the event, Chryssa Avrami introduced HACC President Markos L. Drakotos, Esq. who noted that “the Acropolis is the heart that breathes life into the Eternal Harmony of this world balancing our existence within time and space." 

Avrami then introduced His Eminence Archbishop Elpidophoros of America, who also called for the return of the Parthenon Marbles which remain in the British Museum.

Consul General of Greece in New York Konstantinos Koutras, remembered his first visit to the Acropolis at a young age and reminded us all of the sense of pride he feels when foreign dignitaries visit the site and are awe-struck. So many of us can still remember President Obama's memorable November 2016 visit to the Aropolis Hill and the Acropolis Museum before he concluded his term as US President.

Mareva Grabowski Mitsotakis, the wife of Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis, spoke about the miracle of the Parthenon which saw the birth of democracy and so much more - the 'gifts' of civilization that continue to influence our every day lives even today.

Journalist Nikos Aliagas, academic Byzantinologist Helen Glykatzi-Ahrweiler, Paramount Pictures CEO Jim Gianopulos,Olympic gold medalist Yiannis Melissanidis, Phedon Papamichael, Albert Bourla, John Coumantaros also added insights, as did actress, producer and musician Rita Wilson.

Marianna Vardinogiannis, UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador also added her call for the reunification remembering Melina Mercouri's words before she passed away: "when the Marbles will return to Greece, I will be reborn."

Photographer Robert McCabe noted that the Acropolis changes in the light and weather conditions and is a never-ending kaleidoscope for a photographer. When asked to summarize the Acropolis in one word, McCabe said “continuity” as the Acropolis connects the present an ancient Greek civilization and language. We couldn't agree more that the Attica light is such an important element of how the ancient treasures on the Acropolis Hill and the Acropolis Museum are viewed and celebrated by visitors from all over the globe.

Musician George Dalaras, Fashion Designer Mary Katrantzou, Managing Partner IRI/Marshall Islands Registry Clay Maitland, composer Evanthia Reboutsika, Computer Scientist and 2007 Turing Award-winner Joseph Sifakis, Town & Country Magazine Editor in Chief Stellene Volandes, and composer Stavros Xarhakos also shared their thoughts.

A Q&A session with Professor Pandermalis, moderated by Sylvia Papapostolou-Kienzl, followed the virtual tour and concluded the event.

We reflected that the sculptures removed from the Parthenon by Lord Elgin at the start of the nineteenth century were once referred to by the ame Lord as 'stones of no value'. A man of position and influence, Lord Elgin had paid for the sculptures to be forcibly removed, originally destined for his Scottish ancestral home. A fire sale in 1816 has seen them exhibited the wrong way round in a room that has very little natural light in the heart of Bloomsbury at the British Museum's Parthenon Galleries, Room 18. They have been senselessly divided for over 200 years.

Dame Janet Suzman, Chair of The British Committee for the Reunification of the Parthenon Marbles states: "These sculptures are like no other and have done their job in London. It is time for them to join their other halves in the Acropolis Museum's Parthenon Gallery, as it is here, that visitors can have a single and aesthetic experience simultaneously of the Parthenon and its sculptures."

We wish to thank the Hellenic American Chamber of Commerce for today's memorable event, it was uplifting and enlightening to hear so many voices calling for the reunification, there was light, φως...... in the voices and the images of this live event. We especially wish to thank Professor Pandermalis for taking us on this vitual tour, especially as many of us that annually visited the museum, have been unable to do so and cannot wait to return to see that light and those sculptures, the Parthenon Marbles.

Thursday, 6 February 2020 from 18:00 to 20:00, Kings College London, a panel discussion: "Who owns history" with Geoffrey Robertson QC,  plus Professor Edith Hall, Department of Classics, King's College London and Professor John Tasioulas, Director of the Yeoh Tiong Lay Centre for Politics, Philosophy and Law, King's College London, Chaired by Professor Philippa Webb, Dickson Poon School of Law, King's College London

Event was held at:

SW1.18, Somerset House East Wing
The Dickson Poon School of Law, King's College London
Strand
London WC2R 2LS
United Kingdom

The panel featured a discussion of Geoffrey Robertson's recently published book, "Who Owns History? Elgin's Loot and the Case for Returning Plundered Treasure".

The biggest question in the world of art and culture concerns the return of property taken without consent. Throughout history, conquerors or colonial masters have taken artefacts from subjugated peoples, who now want them returned from museums and private collections in Europe and the USA.

The controversy rages on over the Elgin Marbles, and has been given immediacy by figures such as France's President Macron, who says he will order French museums to return hundreds of artworks acquired by force or fraud in Africa, and by British opposition leader Jeremy Corbyn, who has pledged that a Labour government would return the Elgin Marbles to Greece. Elsewhere, there is a debate in Belgium about whether the Africa Museum, newly opened with 120,000 items acquired mainly by armed forces in the Congo, should close.

Although there is an international convention dated 1970 that deals with the restoration of artefacts stolen since that time, there is no agreement on the rules of law or ethics which should govern the fate of objects forcefully or lawlessly acquired in previous centuries.

Who Owns History? delves into the crucial debate over the Elgin Marbles, but also offers a system for the return of cultural property based on human rights law principles that are being developed by the courts. It is not a legal text, but rather an examination of how the past can be experienced by everyone, as well as by the people of the country of origin.

Follow the link to read Professor John Tasioulas' paper in response to Geoffrey Robertson's 'Who Owns History' panel discussion at Kings College London.

22 September 2018

When the Parthenon in Athens fell into ruins in early the 1800s, a British ambassador with permission from the Ottoman Empire preserved about half the sculptures, which are now at the British Museum. But Greeks for centuries have wanted them back; the deal was made before their country fought for independence from the monarchy. NewsHour Weekend Special Correspondent Christopher Livesay reports.

Watch the PBS Newshour podcast here or listen to the audio here.

Read the Full Transcript

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

A highlight of London's British Museum is one of its earliest acquisitions, the Parthenon Marbles. These sculptures once decorated the great 5th century BCE temple on the Acropolis in Greece. Considered among the great achievements of the classical world, they depict mythical creatures, stories of the gods along with average people.

• HANNAH BOULTON:

They are very significant and important masterpieces, really, of the ancient Greek world.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

Hannah Boulton is the spokesperson for the British Museum. She admits that how these classical works came to be in England is a sensitive subject, one the museum takes some pains to explain.

• HANNAH BOULTON:

I think it, obviously, has always been a topic of debate ever since the objects came to London and into the British Museum. It's not a new debate.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

The story starts in the early 1800s. The Parthenon had fallen to ruin. Half the marbles were destroyed by neglect and war. Then, a British ambassador, Lord Elgin, made an agreement with Ottoman authorities who were in control of Athens at the time to remove some of statues and friezes. He took about half of the remaining sculptures.

• HANNAH BOULTON:

And then he shipped that back to the UK. For a long time it remained part of his personal collection so he put it on display and then he made the decision to sell the collection to the nation. And the Parliament chose to acquire it and then pass it on the British Museum. So we would certainly say that Lord Elgin had performed a great service in terms of rescuing some of these examples.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

But Greeks don't see it that way. For decades now, they have argued that the Ottomans were occupiers, so the deal with Elgin wasn't valid, and the marbles belong in Greece. Why does Greece want to have the Parthenon Marbles back in Athens?

• LYDIA KONIORDOU:

It's not just bringing them back to Athens or to Greece. That's where they were created. But this is not our claim. Our claim is to put back a unique piece of art. To put it back together. Bring it back together.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

Lydia Koniordou was Greece's Minister of Culture from 2016 to 2018. We met her at the Acropolis where the Parthenon temple stands overlooking Athens.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

So first it was Lord Elgin who removed 50 percent.

• LYDIA KONIORDOU:

Almost 50 percent.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

All of the marbles, she says, have now been removed from the monument for protection from the elements. Then it was Greece that consciously decided to remove the remaining.

• LYDIA KONIORDOU:

Yes, the scientists that were responsible decided to remove and take them to the Acropolis Museum. It was nine years ago when the Acropolis Museum was completed.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

In fact, the Acropolis Museum was built in part as a response to the British Museum's claim that Greece did not have a proper place to display the sculptures. The glass and steel structure has a dramatic view of the Acropolis, so while you're observing the art you can see the actual Parthenon. The third floor is set up just like the Parthenon, with the same proportions. These friezes, from the west side of the temple, are nearly all original. On the other three sides, there are some originals but also a lot of gaps, as well as white plaster copies of the friezes and statues now in Britain.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

We believe that one day we could replace the copies with the orginals to show all this unique art in its grandeur. Every block has two or three figures and here is only one.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

Dimitrios Pandermalis is the Director of the Acropolis Museum where the story of the missing marbles differs widely from that of the British Museum. Presentations for visitors portray Lord Elgin critically. One film shows the marbles flying off the Parthenon and calls it the uncontrollable plundering of the Acropolis. You have these videos that actually show how the pieces were removed. Another film depicts how one of the marbles was crudely split by Elgin's workmen.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

He damaged the art pieces, yes.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

He did damage some of these pieces.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

Of course, it was to be expected.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

The British Museum disputes the claim Elgin damaged the sculptures. It also sees it as a plus that half the collection is in Britain and half in Greece.

• HANNAH BOULTON:

I think the situation we find ourselves in now we feel is quite beneficial. It ensures that examples of the wonderful sculptures from the Parthenon can be seen by a world audience here at the British Museum and in a world context in terms of being able to compare with Egypt and Rome and so on and so forth. But we feel the two narratives we are able to tell with the objects being in two different places is beneficial to everybody.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

But Pandermalis says rather than being in two places the sculptures should be reunified, literally. He showed us examples around the museum, including one that is almost complete save for one thing.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

So this sculpture is original except the right foot.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

And this. The chest of the god Poseidon. So the marble portion in the center where we can see clearly defined the abdomen, that's original but the surrounding portion in plaster, the shoulders, that's in London. So the piece has been completely split in half.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

Yes.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

And perhaps most dramatic, this frieze. So the darker stone is the original and the white plaster that represents what's in the British Museum.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

Yes. Exactly.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

And here it is in the British Museum. The missing marble head and chest floating in a display space.

• LYDIA KONIORDOU:

It just doesn't make sense. It's like cutting, for instance, the Last Supper of Da Vinci and taking one apostle to one museum and another apostle to another museum. We feel also it's a symbolic act today to bring back this emblem of our world. To put it back together.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

If you bring back this emblem, aren't there untold other emblems that need to be brought back. Is this a slippery slope?

• LYDIA KONIORDOU:

We do not claim, as Greek state, we do not claim other treasures. We feel that this is unique. This claim will never be abandoned by this country because we feel this is our duty.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

As for visitors to the Acropolis museum. How do you feel about the fact that half the collection is in the British Museum?

• MAN:

Not good.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

The Roscoe family is from Ohio. What do you guys think?

• JIM ROSCOE:

I think it would be nice to have them in one spot where they originated.

• EMMA ROSCOE:

You're coming here to see the history of it so it would be nice to see the complete history rather than replicas.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

You've seen them in the British Museum. So what do you think about the fact that the collection is kind of split.

• TIM:

It's sad. When you see this. I think this museum is a phenomenal place to display them. It's beautiful and they way it's been built almost waiting to have them back. It's interesting.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

As recently as May the Greek President, Prokopios Pavlopoulos, told Prince Charles that he hoped the Marbles would be returned. And the British opposition Labor leader Jeremy Corbyn has said he too is in favor of returning the Marbles to Greece. But the British Museum's position is the marbles in its collection are legally theirs. They would, however, consider a loan. After all, the British Museum regularly loans pieces from its collection to other museums around the world.

• HANNAH BOULTON:

I think we would certainly see there being a great benefit in extending that lending and trying to find ways to collaborate with colleagues, not just in Greece but elsewhere in the world to share the Parthenon sculptures that we have in our collection.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

But sharing the sculptures is not what the ancient Greeks who created them would have wanted claims Pandermalis.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

They would be very angry.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

The ancient Greeks would be very angry?

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

Yes

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

Why?

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

Because they were crazy for perfection. It was a perfection but today it is not.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

As for whether he will ever see all the remaining Parthenon Marbles together under this roof.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

I'm sure.

• CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY:

You' re sure that you will see them.

• DIMITRIOS PANDERMALIS:

But I don't know when.

02 November 2020, Janet Suzman in conversation with Yannis Andritsopoulos of Ta Nea

This is sad news indeed, wonderful charismatic handsome Connery - gone. But happily the mischievous gleam in his eye is immortalised on film for posterity to sigh over.

Alas, I never worked with him but admired him from the stalls just like the rest of the world. The legendary Sean fashioned an image of the not-to-be-messed-with British gentleman that far exceeded the reality, if indeed there ever existed such an exotic creature; there is certainly no sighting of the species at the present time.

Nineteen years have passed and the British government remains as obdurate as ever it was, nor the hint of a gentlemanly feeling to be spied amongst the Trustees of the British Museum which still keeps the Marbles captive.

For that is basically all it would take to have those Marbles returned; a sense of fair play and decency to override the tatters of empire and colonialism which hangs about the place.

No matter Acts of Parliament and de-accessions and all the superfluous commentary which obscures the basic argument; the Parthenon Marbles belong where they started, in Athens.

To the dishevelled apparatchiks of empire, Sean would surely murmur in his inimitable Scottish burr: “Give those shtatues back or you might like ataste of thish” - bang-bang. Lights of empire out.

Sean Connery had added his voice to the campaign in 2001. He was visiting Athens for the first time and discussed the issue with the then Greek Culture Minister Evangelos Venizelos.

He told Venizelos he was "confident that the British government will change its position" and the minister thanked Connery for his efforts on the matter.

Sean Connery visited the sacred rock of  the Acropolis to view the Parthenon with Jules Dassin and Vangelis Papathanassiou. He also spoke to journalists about the importance of the return of the Marbles to their homeland. "They had them for two centuries," Connery said referring to the British government "and should return them." 

You can read more on Sean Connery's 2001 historic visit to Athens and the Acropolis, here. 

For more quotes from supporters, kindly visit our 'Supporters' page here.

20 November 2021, The Tablet

Just over 400 years have passed since Sir Henry Wotton, travelling through Europe on official business, offered a definition of his role: “An ambassador is an honest gentleman sent to lie abroad for the good of his country.”

Even if the preceding words are too harsh, the final six remain important. In everything they do or say, diplomats must serve their homeland, not their personal agenda. A recruit to the Foreign Office is warned of a code which forbids any use of an official position “to further your private interests or those of others.” Equally taboo is accepting “gifts or hospitality” which “might reasonably be seen to compromise your personal judgement or integrity.”

The past, you may say, is a foreign country, where things were done differently. But how differently? When Thomas Bruce, the seventh Earl of Elgin, was appointed ambassador to the Ottoman Sultan in 1799, it was an opportunity not just to consolidate an alliance against the French but to acquire some of the greatest artefacts ever fashioned – in order to decorate his house in Scotland.

He would later give different accounts of his motivation: at times he insisted that he was acting nobly to further British aesthetics. He would claim, quite implausibly, that he only decided to remove sculptures, as opposed to having them drawn, when he saw they were in acute danger. In more private communications, he was more frank. During the summer of 1801, when an exceptional military alliance seemed to offer exceptional personal opportunities, there is no mistaking the excited tone in which he writes to Giovanni Lusieri, his monument-stripper in chief: “The plans for my house in Scotland should be known to you. The building is a subject that occupies me greatly, and offers me the means of placing in a useful, distinguished and agreeable way, the various things that you may perhaps be able to procure for me.”

Studying the documentary evidence for the extraction of the Parthenon sculptures, which began in 1801 and continued intensively over two years, it is hard to avoid a sense of how shocking the operation was to many contemporaries. Was permission given? The original firman (an Ottoman letter of permission) has never been found but let us assume the authenticity of the Italian copy. The person induced to issue it was not the Sultan (who may never have known) but an official several notches down, the deputy to the Grand Vizier; and it has never been clear what exactly he meant by allowing the removal of “some pieces of stone with old inscriptions and figures” from the Acropolis. As the historian William St Clair concluded after a rigorous examination, Elgin’s agents used “cajolery, threats and bribes” to persuade Ottoman officials in Athens to exceed, at least in spirit, the firman’s terms.

When Lusieri and his team went to work with ropes, pulleys and saws, the spectacle was horrifying to British and Ottoman observers alike. As Edward Daniel Clarke, a traveller and antiquarian, describes the scene; “Down came the fine masses of Pentelican marble, scattering their white fragments with thundering noise among the ruins. The disdar (commander of the Ottoman garrison) took his pipe from his mouth and letting fall a tear, said in a most emphatic tone of voice, telos !
It was a scandalous act even with due consideration for the spirit of the times, which was itself pretty horrifying to modern sensibilities. The spirit might be described by the elusive New Testament Greek word harpagmos which refers to the act of grabbing, the thing grabbed or to a grabbing kind of mindset. For the powerful nations of western Europe and their wealthy representatives, Hellenism and its physical legacy was something to be grabbed: either by measuring, drawing and painting the ancient artefacts or, ultimately, by removing them.

Pause for a moment and consider what message is being sent to the world by the British establishment when it retrospectively endorses Elgin’s actions as procedurally correct and legal. Such formalistic arguments cut less and less ice in world where the tide of anger over Europe’s historic arrogance is growing. It surfaced most recently in September when a UNESCO committee, a rotating group of 21 countries, called with unprecedented firmness for the return of the Parthenon marbles to Athens. This emboldened Kyriakos Mitsotakis, the Greek prime minister, to make a formal request for talks on [reunification] during a visit to Britain this week.

The trustees of the British Museum insist, accurately enough, that they have no mandate to do anything except act in the interest of the institution and its educational mission. The British government hides behind the independence of the museum; it is not for any cabinet minister to interfere in the decision-making of such a robustly independent body. As a museum spokesperson said in response to the UNESCO vote, the trustees “have a legal and moral responsibility to preserve and maintain all the collections in their care and to make them accessible to world audiences.” But that need not be the final answer. Ways can be found to overcome the legal obstacles. A law was passed in 2009 to enable the Museum to return objects that had been looted by the Nazis. An equally powerful imperative is building up for the return of objects that were grabbed in the colonial era with egregious cynicism. These include the Benin heads that were seized in 1897 after British forces looted a royal palace in Nigeria.

In 2019, Germany vowed to work towards the return of imperial loot taken “in ways that are legally or morally unjustifiable today.” All over the world, the moral pressure to rectify (or at least not gloat over) the legacy of colonialism is growing, with the support of rising powers like China and India.  sensed and anticipated that trend when he said in 2017 that France’s museums should no longer be holding colonial booty from Africa, starting a process that culminated last year in a law which provided for some restitution.

Suppose Britain’s cultural establishment were to renounce the legacy of Elgin and instead throw itself behind the cause of the reunification of the Parthenon sculptures, perhaps on the understanding that Greece would freely grant or lend to the British people other artefacts of real value. Amidst the euphoric chain-reaction that would be triggered, wonderful new ideas would emerge as to how best to share the legacy of Greece with the world. Among the distinguished cultural and academic figures who advocate such a move, the term “reunification” is carefully chosen. If the sculptures now in London belong anywhere it is with the parts of the frieze that remain in Athens and are now superbly displayed, in Greek light and with the Parthenon in view, in the new Acropolis Museum. For the first time in two centuries, visitors would be invited to admire the great majority of the frieze, with its chariots, horsemen, tray-bearers and water-carriers … and ponder what they mean: the fact is that nobody knows.

In its handout on the marbles, the British Museum rightly notes that the Parthenon has a “complex history”, including phases as a “temple, a church, a mosque and now an archaeological site”. If there is a flaw in the way the Acropolis and its monuments are now presented to the world, it lies in the exclusive emphasis placed on the era of Pericles, leading statesman of Athens from 461 to 429 BC – perhaps the greatest of the Rock’s many ages, but not the only one. Eight centuries before Pericles, the citadel hosted a thriving Mycenean palace; two centuries before, the rock’s sanctity, whose violation incurred a terrible, inter-generational curse, became a wild card in Athenian power struggles. And the Parthenon was a temple of monotheism for longer than it served the Olympian religion: a Greek Christian cathedral for perhaps seven centuries, a Roman Catholic one for another two, then a mosque. For Christians, the mysterious light that emanated from the white pillars became an attraction for pilgrims and a sign of the Virgin Mary. In 1394 the Florentine duke Nerio Acciaiuoli bequeathed the entire modest town of Athens to the Catholic cathedral of Santa Maria, in other words the Parthenon.

It is an Ottoman Muslim traveller, Evliya Celebi, who gave one of the greatest descriptions of the Parthenon frieze: “The human mind cannot indeed comprehend those images – they are white magic, beyond human capacity: whoever looks upon them falls into ecstasy, his body grows weak and his eyes water for delight.” And the Acropolis has seen an extraordinary modern history – for example in 1941 when two brave young Athenians scrambled up a vertical tunnel first used by Myceneans in the middle of the night and tore down the Nazi banner that flew menacingly over the city. As described later by Manolis Glezos, emerging from the dark passage onto the moon-lit rock was a moment of spiritual ecstasy as well as political defiance.

All these moments have their place in the story of the Acropolis. It is a shame that the average guide book devotes, say 50 pages to the Periclean century and at most a paragraph to the monotheistic millennium. But if the injuries left by Elgin’s depredation could only heal, then the masters of the Acropolis would more easily find the freedom and confidence to present the story of the Sacred Rock in its mysterious entirety. And the whole world would joyfully assist them.

Bruce Clark’s article was published in The Tablet (Saturday 20 November 2021).

Bruce Clark writes for The Economist on history, culture and ideas. His latest book  'Athens: City of Wisdom', is published by Head of Zeus and is available to purchase via The Tablet also.

Tonight dignitaries gathered at the Acropolis Museum to celebrate its 13th anniversary and  to welcome two exquisite Panathenaic amphorae from  the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM), Canada.

Των Αθήνηθεν άθλων

These Panathenaic amphorae, crafted over 2,500 years ago, were vessels filled with oil that would have been given as a prize to the victors of contests held during the festival of the Great Panathenaia. One side is decorated with the figure of Athena Promachos and the other with scenes related to the games for which they were given as prizes. The two vessels from the Royal Ontario Museum will be exhibited in the top floor, glass-walled, Parthenon Gallery, relating with the great temple’s frieze, where Pheidias and his collaborators artfully carved the Panathenaic procession.

To read more on this exhibition which celebrate the 13th anniversary of the Acropolis Museum, follow the link here.

Athens, 12 March 2020

Minister of Culture and Sport, Lina Mendoni held a meeting to discuss the progress of the continued developments taking place at the archaeological site of the Acropolis, which welcomes 1.5 million visitors per year.

Currently there are 8 individual projects being implemented at the Acropolis Archaeological Site, aimed at protecting and upgrading the space and quality of services for visitors.

Two of these are aimed at helping wheelchair users to visit the ancient citadel, with the installation of a new lift, access ramps and paths. Improvements will also be made to the lighting on the Acropolis, both for making it safer for pedestrians and for showing the Parthenon in the best light. These are expected to be installed in August and completed by next July. The new lighting system will be more sustainable as it will use less power and fewer bulbs. The improved lighting is being supported by the Onassis Foundation.

The former Acropolis museum will be used to enhance visitors’ outlook with a new interactive experience to be added. This follows on from an international tender for this museum's relaunch. In the meantime, the ticket sales system will also be made more efficient and the gift shops stocked with more attractive souvenirs.

The Acropolis Museum announced a two-week postponement of three planned events as a precaution against the spread of the coronavirus. The events include: “A Walk in the Museum with an Archaeologist,” “The Lost Statue of Athena Parthenos,” and “Chisel and Memory – The Contribution of Marble Craftsmanship to the Restoration of the Acropolis Monuments.”

For more information visit the Hellenic Republic Ministry of Culture and Sport.

 Photo credit: Iason Athanasiadis                                                                                                               

It was a great honour and a wonderful experience to be asked by the New York Times to photograph the Parthenon. My image making process requires large boxes which I use as pinhole cameras. Each is outfitted with a single sheet of photographic paper, which, if all goes as planned, will yield one negative unique image. My effort is great, the images few. Because of my particular way of working and the enormous August heat in Athens, my days started early and went late. I received permission to arrive on the Acropolis before sunrise which meant my team and I, equipment shouldered, climbed the steep marble steps in pitch black night with Athens sleeping quietly to our feet. The tender warmth from the prior day still emitting from the old stones paired with the gentle order of cypress and pines. Wrapped in silence and warm scented air I arrived at the top facing the majestic Parthenon Temple. The ancient stones radiating silent authority will remain forever a lasting experience. Unforgettable to be there practically alone.

Just after sunrise, the security guards for the day had not yet arrived, a small unit of the Greek military marched in every morning. About 10 soldiers walking in a single file, the first carrying a folded Greek flag. As the sun rose over the horizon so did the flag on the eastern most side of the Acropolis, flag to sun. Once up the soldiers stood attention and sang the Greek anthem. We instinctively held still and watched in silence and respect. Not speaking Greek, I could not understand the words, but the ceremony was deeply moving regardless. Even my left leaning, liberally thinking Greek helper, held still watching his chest filled with pride. At sunset the same ritual repeated itself, no singing here, the flag once lowered, was taken off and folded to be carried away.

My team and I often spoke of the Greek Marbles removed from the Parthenon and from Greece. We felt deprived of a wholesome experience not being able to see at once, on the same day, all that survived millennia, all that so authentically belongs to this magnificent place where the heart of ancient and modern Greece lies.

 Vera Lutter

veralutter.net

Temple of Athena, Acropolis: August 25, 2021, courtesy Vera Lutter

Our recent trip to Athens after a 10 year hiatus, highlighted the favourable and unfavourable changes in this capital city. I travelled with my husband and daughter, and the main aim was to refresh our memories of the cultural magnificence we (as British born Greeks), take for granted.

Having worked in travel for 27 years, I have been lucky enough to travel to many parts of the world both near and far, and both positive and negative changes are inevitable, as was the case on this occasion, when visiting Athens.

The central areas of Athens known as Syntagma Square, Monastiraki and Plaka, somehow did not compare to previous years as I remember them, where the hustle and bustle was leisurely, and probably more traditionally Greek. This area of the city is busy with traditional buildings, luxury hotels, bars, restaurants, shops and crowds filling this space. Time doesn't stand still and Athens has expanded, its population now over 3 million. This central area in my view looked tired, and in need of revival. Perhaps, this was partly caused by the economic crisis of the last 10 years and more recently, Covid 19 and its aftermath.

I was keen for my daughter to experience the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, just off Syntagma Square, below the Hellenic Parliament; and also to visit the Acropolis and of course the main star attraction, the Parthenon.

Once we reached the top of  the Acropolis, Athens' iconic tourist attraction, we watched the Greek flag gently blowing in the wind against a blue cloudless sky, and soaked up the many years of ancient history. I was consumed by a sense of pride and honour of my Greek heritage.

Even in November, the citadel was buzzing with tourists from different parts of the world. The evening view of the Acropolis from Monastiraki was captivating in that one picture was just simply not enough!

We then made our way down to the newly built Acropolis Museum which focuses on the findings of the archaeological site of the Acropolis. The museum houses every artifact found on the rock and surrounding slopes dating back from the Greek Bronze age to Roman and Byzantine Greece. A plethora of artifacts with a wealth of information feeding the curious mind.

This modern museum, officially opened in June 2019, houses the original marble sculptures of the Parthenon, exhibited in the same way as they would have been on the monument. Sadly, it is obvious to also see, the missing sculptures, those so many refer to as the 'Elgin marbles', removed by Lord Elgin when Greece had no voice.

Lord Elgin was forced to sell what he had removed, to the British government in 1816, and in turn the government placed these treasures in trust with the British Museum.

The sculptures that are still in the British Museum's Room 18, have been replaced in the Acropolis Museum's Parthenon Gallery by contrasting, stark white plaster copies, further emphasising their harsh removal.

The importance of this collection of sculptures and why the calls for their return grows louder, and louder, is that these marbles deserve to be returned to their birthplace. They deserve to be housed in this amazing museum, to join their surviving halves, with direct views to the Parthenon. This would be the ultimate gesture of respect by the UK to Greece. The Parthenon Marbles were, and will always be referenced by the Parthenon, the jewel in the crown that is the Acropolis.

Athens will always hold a special place in my heart, and after this latest trip, in the hearts of my family too. Our short visit allowed us to re-engage with our Greek heritage but above all, enrich our minds with the profound cultural wealth present in this amazing ancient capital city.

We're looking forward to visiting again, this time, not leaving it so long.

Zoe Hawa