Painting a Picture of French Art Restitution: The Expedition of Looted Valuables Back to Benin

Pictured above: Porto-Novo, the capital of Benin.

By Emily Tsairis ‘25

On October 27, 2021, President Emmanuel Macron of France began the formal transfer of 26 pillaged art objects back to their home country of Benin. More than a century after French troops plundered and stole these valuables from an Abomey Royal Palace, this restitution represents a key recognition of the continued existence of damaging European colonial threads in the art world. Macron delivered this message at the Quai Branly Museum in Paris — the old home of the African objects of concern — and all 26 African treasures were fully returned to Benin by November 9. The works include the famous doors of the Palace of Abomey, warrior dance staffs, a wooden effigy of King Behanzin, intricately-designed wooden thrones, and much more, all of which were welcomed back to Benin during a November 9 ceremony attended by the Benin royal families. Benin President Patrice Talon presided over this celebration, asserting that “this return is a testimony to what we have been, a testimony that we existed before, a testimony to what we have known.” 

The artifacts will be temporarily housed in a museum in Ouidah before traveling to their permanent home: an entirely new museum that is being constructed in Abomey, which is the location of the Kingdom of Dahomey’s royal palaces. Essentially, France’s much needed repatriation of this art marks a pivotal moment in the journey of restitution that is quickly picking up speed.

The Implications for the Larger Battle of Restitution

This restitution, or repatriation, of African objects of cultural significance is a symbolic outcome to the current interwoven debate of colonialism, racism, and social inequalities in Europe. French art historian Bénédicte Savoy highlights the extreme importance this Benin restitution carries with regard to Europe’s twisted colonial past. Savoy posits that Europe’s arrogance toward the rightful African desire to reconnect with their artistic inheritance is “now a thing of the past,” drawing parallels to German history: just as there exists a before and after the fall of the Berlin Wall, “there will be a before and after the return to Benin of the works looted by the French army in 1892.” Other countries are pursuing this route of justifiable repatriation: as of October 15, 2021, Germany signed a pre-accord with Nigeria to return around 1,100 Benin Bronzes, and an October 6 Dutch report has recommended the Netherlands to “return unconditionally any cultural objects looted in former Dutch colonies.” Macron’s decision to take this formal step of French restitution has fueled productive discussion for the acceleration of repatriation throughout the European artistic theater.

Journeying through the Labyrinthine History of the Benin Looted Art 

President Macron’s decisiveness is made somewhat surprising given France’s complicated relationship with the pieces in question. These objects were essentially spoils of war, stolen punitively from the king of Dahomey after a battle in 1892 and subsequently placed in the Trocadéro of Paris. Over the years, these objects made their way to the Quai Branly Museum in Paris, settling down into a Euro-centric context. It took decades for the issue of restitution to emerge, with President Macron finally calling for a “temporary or permanent” restitution of African art in French collections in 2017. This announcement launched a much needed cultural discourse into the air of the country. Macron commissioned aforementioned French historian Savoy and her counterpart Felwine Sarr of Senegal to formulate an explorative report into the social necessity for restitution. Their report, which was published in late 2018, called for the return of “any artifacts removed from sub-Saharan Africa in colonial times” that had been taken “by force, or presumed to be acquired through inequitable conditions.” Due to the punitive nature of the 1892 Benin looting, the 26 objects definitely fit the bill. 

The Sarr-Savoy report explicitly called for full restitution of any repatriated artwork, which is why their report was so impactful: it did not leave wiggle room for loans. Yale University Associate Professor Cécile Fromont believes in the positive implications of this 2018 report in making the “idea of ‘long-term loans’ to African countries become as absurd as it sounds.” The Sarr-Savoy report got the ball rolling on returning these 26 plundered objects back to their home country and stimulating debate in museum and government circles; however, the French government was extremely slow on the uptake. Sarr put it nicely in a November 2019 statement: “things are not moving as fast as we would have liked” as the French government is “striving for a middle way that would be a mix of restitution and circulation, which from a historical standpoint, is a retreat.” Even as of late 2020, the French government had only returned one of the 26 objects back to Benin.

Some individuals pursued radical measures to pull the French government out of the lull of tedious discussion and pressure it into decisive action. In June of 2020, Congolese activist Mwazulu Diyabanza ventured into the Quai Branly Museum, publicly denounced the cultural theft, and live-streamed his speech to Facebook. He then removed a Sudanese 19th-century wooden funerary post but was stopped before he could head for the exit. Diyabanza engaged in a series of other protests, culminating in a public trial. Despite the intensity of his actions, Diyabanza’s opinions did open wider the “door to conversations when our displays have hurt or upset people,” as Oxford University Archaeology Professor Dan Hicks poses. Finally, in 2021, four years after Macron’s initial announcement, the French government began the process of full restitution despite the urgency stressed in the 2018 Sarr-Savoy report.

A Dive into the Restitution Academic Debate

Though the looted treasures have now been returned to Benin, the debate over repatriation is still ongoing in Europe and more specifically, France. These 26 objects represent a mere fraction of the over 5,000 artworks France owes to Benin and is miniscule compared to the tens of thousands of other African objects French museums continue to display. There have been arguments for circulation, but many scholars maintain that total repatriation is the only acceptable solution. The aforementioned Professor Fromont proclaims that for any sort of circulation of art pieces to exist with fluidity, Africans have to “have the means to participate.” And if they own these objects, they can participate in the exchange. The word “loan” must dissipate in the European artistic community, as this phraseology keeps power pressed in the hands of Africa’s colonizers, Fromont argues. African ownership and possession of their own art in the future is key.

However, some scholars subscribe to the argument of education to push against the idea of restitution. Tiffany Jenkins, author of Keeping Their Marbles: How the Treasures of the Past Ended up in Museums, and Why They Should Stay There, is a strong proponent of the notion that African art can aid in educating French youth and “showing different cultures and times and places to different people.” But what about the African youth? Most Africans cannot receive a visa to come see their own art displayed in a European context or museum. Fromont posits that since French national collections are crucial in educating the French citizen, it is “hypocritical to say that it’s not equally important for the children of Benin.” And this is why a new museum is being built in Abomey to house the 26 Benin artworks among other valuables: to enkindle and foster a spirit of tourism in Benin and create a hub of learning and reconnection to Benin heritage. Around 1.16 billion US dollars have already been spent on the country’s cultural infrastructure since 2016 to transform Benin into a hotspot of cultural tourism.

What Happens Next?

While the Benin restitution was undertaken partly due to Macron’s attempt to ease relations with Benin and improve France’s image in the eyes of Africans, there is no doubt that this art reinstatement has generated waves of European discourse and repatriation pursuits for years to come. France has returned several other art pieces to former African colonies since the Benin restitution, and Macron has pledged to continue doing so. The Benin restitution was the largest transfer of art France has made to a former colony to date, but approximately 90% of Africa’s artistic culture continues to reside in Europe. Sarr and Savoy outlined in their 2018 report that of the 70,000 pieces of African art in the Quai Branly Museum, 46,000 of them qualify for repatriation. Obviously, more investigations and repatriations should be in store for the French government’s future, and the Benin restitution was integral in shining a spotlight on the necessity of restitutions to help objects “escape from the trauma of colonialism at some point,” voices Nigerian-American artist Ojih Odutola. 

The return of the 26 looted Benin treasures and the construction of the Abomey museum to house them are a sign of what is to come in the world of museums, ushering in a new era of African-centric national collections. Odutola asserts that for too long, Western institutions have possessed the highest level of validity and respect within the artistic world. Odutola is curious to see the impacts of crafting institutions on par with Western ones, painting a future of strong, independent, and indigenous cultural institutions to rival the greatest museums of Europe. These institutions would discard the European veil that has shrouded the meanings of African objects for so long, embracing the true contexts of African art. While the future is still cloudy, Odutola remains optimistic, commenting that we “cannot even fathom what new African museums could be, and what they could do.” What new art or insights could be rendered because this art has been returned to its original birthplace?

Emily Tsairis