WHEN tour guides in Egypt describe how ancient Egyptian tombs were robbed of their treasures, they include a clarification: we mean by indigenous grave robbers, not the Western archaeologists who took the antiquities to museums and private collections abroad.
On a recent trip to Egypt, I was struck by several guides’ lack of ambiguity that Western exploration was tantamount to theft, and their confidence in the rightful place of Egyptian antiquities. Seeing Egyptian engagement with the country’s heritage is among the strongest cases for cultural repatriation that I have encountered.
It is difficult in a world of tariff wars, looming recessions and Trumpian imperialism to recall that in recent years the issue of cultural repatriation was among the most charged topics.
The Global South (and other countries such as Greece) has been asking for the return of cultural treasures that had been looted, procured under dubious circumstances or in the context of skewed colonial power dynamics to their countries of origin or the heirs of original owners.
There is little risk that Egyptians will neglect their heritage.
Western governments, museums and some pockets of academia have been resisting these requests.
Arguments for keeping artefacts in Western museums are wide-ranging: developing countries do not have the resources and expertise to maintain cultural objects; corruption and theft will endanger the objects and facilitate illicit trading. When all else fails, Western museums argue that they have more foot traffic and so artefacts left in situ are likely to be more accessible to more people.
These arguments seem less compelling than others, given that knowledge transfer, trainings and partnerships between museums around the world could help plug any gaps in resources and know-how. My support for cultural repatriation is occasionally tempered by concerns that certain artefacts could be intentionally destroyed, for example, by religious extremists (think of the Bamiyan Buddhas).
Alternatively, there is concern that the provenance and history of certain objects could be suppressed or rewritten in service of contemporary national narratives or strategic imperatives. One can certainly envision scenarios in which Pakistan’s pre-Muslim history or anti-establishment art are subject to destruction, censorship, or decontextualisation.
This is where Egypt offers a valuable model. The country takes a whole-of-society approach to ensuring that cultural nationalism does not become an indulgence that breeds complacency and corruption, and is something that is, instead, nurtured through education, critical thinking, policy implementation. and international cooperation.
In El Hegez, a village on the bank of the Nile south of Luxor, a girl proudly explained how she is learning about the pharaohs in primary school. Her mother, the first generation of women in her family to receive an education, hopes her daughter will become a diplomat to promote Egyptian heritage globally.
A tour guide in Edfu explained that he began planning his career as a child. Official guides must speak several languages fluently, study Egyptology and related subjects at university level and pass exams to get their licences. They are also subject to extensive security screening and background checks before being unleashed on tourists.
A bookshop outside the souk in Luxor holds an impressive collection of books on Egyptian history, art, artefacts, geography and anthropology, one that would rival any major university library. The Arabic language section is as extensive as the English one, and the man at the till explains that students and locals with an interest in their heritage are a key part of the customer base along with tourists.
Every ancient Egyptian temple and tomb we visit hosts a foreign mission partnering with Egyptian universities or government departments for restoration or excavation projects. The flags of France, Poland, Germany and other countries are proudly pointed out by guides, touts and ticket sellers.
Egypt is not perfect. Illegal antiquities sales soared post-Arab Spring turmoil. A decade ago, some cleaners at the Egyptian Museum damaged Tutankhamun’s burial mask. The opening of the impressive Grand Egyptian Museum was repeatedly delayed.
But there is little risk that Egyptians will take their cultural heritage for granted or neglect it. It is too much a part of their national identity and integral to their lived reality (and economy). There is social consensus on the value and centrality of Egyptian culture, one that is bolstered through education and intellectual curiosity.
Countries demanding cultural repatriations or seeking to boost tourist economies can learn from Egypt’s example, and understand that investments must be made not just in the artefacts themselves but in society as a whole.
The writer is a political and integrity risk analyst.
Published in Dawn, April 14th, 2025
