Destruction of Historic Sites (Syria and Iraq) Debate
Full Debate: Read Full DebateCharlotte Leslie
Main Page: Charlotte Leslie (Conservative - Bristol North West)Department Debates - View all Charlotte Leslie's debates with the Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office
(9 years, 6 months ago)
Commons ChamberI beg to move,
That this House has considered destruction and looting of historic sites in Syria and Iraq.
I thank the Speaker for granting this debate, the Backbench Business Committee for making the debate its own and allowing it to be heard on the Floor of the House, and the Minister and the shadow Minister for taking time out of their schedules to be with us. I also thank those who have far greater knowledge of this subject than I do for their wise counsel, especially Neil MacGregor of the British Museum and his exceptional specialists.
The current conflict in Syria, which has now enveloped large parts of Iraq, has ended its fourth year. We have seen at least 250,000 people killed, 6.5 million people displaced, 2 million refugees in neighbouring countries, and abuses, killings and ethnic and religious cleansing on an almost unimaginable scale by ISIL, the Assad regime and many others, and there is no sign of abatement. In a time of such terrible human suffering, the question must be asked: why should we turn our attention, even momentarily, to the destruction and looting of heritage—of mosques, libraries, souks, castles and churches?
The first reason is that the scale of the destruction and loss is so great—the greatest anywhere in the world since the end of the second world war—that it deserves to be better understood as just one element of the tragic conflict in the middle east. These are ancient civilisations of great beauty, accomplishment and intellectual achievement. It is an extraordinarily rich history bound up with our own history and that of other cultures and civilisations throughout the world. Some of the sites in question, such as in Aleppo, Mosul and Nineveh, are relatively well known. ISIL alone now controls more than 4,000 places of historic and archaeological interest as well as libraries, great and small, such as the Mosul library, in which it recently destroyed all the books that it took issue with including the entire children’s section.
No one group has done more to put the world’s cultural heritage in the gun sights than ISIL, and ISIL is not concealing its destruction; it is doing so brazenly with bulldozers and bombs, and it is available for all of us to see in arresting before-and-after images produced by the university of Pennsylvania and the United States Government. Those images are then broadcast by ISIL on social media. How shocking and shameful it would be if the west did absolutely nothing in the face of this destruction.
There is also a human dimension. I am talking about the unbelievably brave men and women on the ground—the curators, the site guards, the librarians, monks and academics—who are trying to protect what they hold dear by producing inventories or by bearing witness and producing the facts for the rest of the world. Many are unable or unwilling to leave, and hope—I do not think that it is an exaggeration to say this—still to be alive when it is all over to pick up the pieces.
Let me tell one story that was told to me by the British Museum. In October, a site warden at Nineveh was executed by ISIL, and every adult male who came to mourn him disappeared, and are presumed murdered. They were remarkable individuals. Most of their stories cannot and should not be told for fear of endangering them. In part, this debate pays tribute to them and salutes what they are doing.
There is a second reason for focusing our attention on the destruction. These tragic events are occurring for one of two reasons, both of which should concern us. First, it could be a deliberate attempt to subjugate communities by destroying the buildings and the heritage that they hold dear and to rob future generations of any connection to the past, or the ties that bind them together, that might allow reconciliation or even facilitate functioning economies based on tourism and visitors. That is madness applied to monuments. Secondly, systematic looting might be viewed as a significant revenue stream for ISIL, the Assad regime and others. I am talking about sculptures being turned into tanks. There is a fault line in ISIL, as there was in the Taliban in Afghanistan, between those two competing but equally concerning motivations.
Many will recall watching the TV news and seeing the Taliban dynamiting and destroying 1,700-year-old Buddhas at Bamyan in 2001, but what is considerably less well known—the story that has not been told—is that elements of the Taliban were on the telephone to wealthy individuals only 20 minutes before pressing the button and detonating the explosives trying to negotiate a $10 million ransom in return for saving and exporting those works of art. Those who sought iconoclasm and propaganda won on that occasion, but it is not always the case.
ISIL and the Assad regime are employing contractors to seek out antiquities, working at times with couriers and agents for dealers. ISIL is deploying militants to ensure its control of sites and to supervise digging in a disturbing fashion that reminds us of blood diamonds in Africa in the ’80s and ’90s. It is also licensing looting with a formal tithe or tax of 20% on those who do the work themselves.
For some local communities in Syria and Iraq, the harvesting of low-value pieces is a continuation of centuries of tradition—harvesting antiquities instead of crops. We should recognise that they are doing so because they are starving and they have no other source of income. But looting should concern us because it provides an insight into an extremely dark and dangerous underworld that affects this country. We need to understand it and to penetrate it as a way of tackling the financing of terrorism and serious organised crime. That looting, especially at the higher end, almost certainly continues the systematic looting in Iraq that was undertaken by Saddam Hussein and his regime as a significant source of revenue. As ISIL today facilitates the lines of communication that were established by Saddam, we can see that everything in history repeats itself, but with different players. Those lines of communication and passages to neighbouring countries are interwoven with the drugs trade, the arms trade and human trafficking. They are as dark and dangerous as criminality gets.
There is some mystery over where the looted works are heading. At the bottom end, one can see them freely sold on the market stalls at the Turkish-Syrian border, and some have appeared on eBay. At the top end, many of the artefacts may well be in storage until “the dust has settled”. I am pleased to report that there is little or no evidence of their emergence on the legitimate market of UK auction houses and respectable dealers, but works are believed to be appearing in other countries, most notably Germany and the city of Munich, which has a history of being a conduit for antiquities and stolen works of art.
There is a pervasive and disturbing culture of private sale in the Gulf states. Many of the ruling families of those states profess to be great lovers of art and are investing vast sums in the legitimate art market and in building some of the world’s most remarkable new museums, often in partnership with western institutions such as our own. It is extraordinary then that those states should tolerate a culture that allows the illicit trade in antiquities to thrive and to be entirely accepted. None of those Gulf states, save Sharjah, has any antiquities law or proper law enforcement. The ruling families of those states, many of whom are personally committed to the arts and view it as part of their own nation’s rise to prominence, should examine their conscience and change that culture.
The third and final reason for our taking a greater interest in this matter, and it is the most important reason as far as this debate goes, is that while this cultural barbarism appears utterly hopeless—as hopeless as the rest of these conflicts—there are practical steps that we, as one nation, could take to make a real difference and that would do our reputation in the region and the world no harm.
First, we could raise the priority of this matter in our diplomatic efforts—at the UN where a resolution is being sought; in bilateral relationships with neighbouring countries such as Turkey; through our embassy in Beirut, a key conduit for this market; and in our relations with the Gulf states. There are those in Government and the British royal family who hold some sway with those ruling families in the Gulf states. In the longer term, we should bring into law The Hague convention on works of art from conflict areas, which would be a powerful symbol of intent. It is hard for us to continue to justify not signing it, especially as the United Kingdom—proudly for me, as someone who used to work in the art business—is the leading hub in the world for that growing and extremely successful business.
Secondly, in the spirit of the monuments men of the second world war, we could make a modest but far-sighted contribution by establishing a commission to gather information to establish the truth from the fog of the war and to introduce actions in concert with our partners around the world. That could be encouraged under the auspices of the unequalled expertise of the British Museum and, as the US has under the leadership of Secretary of State John Kerry, we could make some modest funds available to help those brave individuals on the ground, funding training and mentoring such as that conducted by the British Museum and University college London both in person and, as it is the 21st century, over the internet via Skype. We could help them to inventory their collections, which is key. We need to work with groups such as the one that contacted me—the brave monks in Irbil who are scrabbling to digitise their manuscripts to preserve Iraq’s Christian heritage while time allows.
Culture is frequently neglected by the international development community in development plans and in funding choices, despite its obvious contribution to civil society, reconciliation and rebuilding economies post-conflict. I suspect that that is because most of us who live in and enjoy the west and our rich cultures take that for granted, like the air that we breathe. That is not the case in many parts of the world and certainly not in Syria and Iraq today.
Lastly, in case the deeply disturbing networks of organised criminals and terrorists seek to bring this material to our shores in the future, we should get our own house in order by ensuring that our counter-terrorist financing specialists include this work in their many priorities. It might indeed prove easier to trace these works, which are often large, difficult to transport and known to experts.
I am listening with fascination and horror to my hon. Friend’s account of what is happening. Does he agree that the importance of this cannot be overestimated? The first written work, the epic of Gilgamesh, is still being uncovered and studied, but the horror is that there are things we will never know about that great work because they have already been destroyed.
I concur. These works, once lost, will never be recovered and many have not been properly inventoried. There are not the records that there should be. The inventory of the Kabul museum is only still being finalised with the help of the university of Chicago years after the start of the conflict. These efforts take time and resources, and they require the support of the western community.
On counter-terrorism, I suspect that it will prove easier to trace some of these incredibly dark and dangerous networks through antiquities than through drugs or arms. They are all bound inextricably together. That work must be done, understandably, without fanfare, but it is incredibly important and I would love to have reassurance that our expertise is being deployed in this area.
We should resource our current but woefully inadequate law enforcement in this area. The only dedicated law enforcement in this country is the Metropolitan police’s art and antiques squad, which comprises three officers. They are wonderfully dedicated individuals, but they are so hopelessly under-resourced that they are reportedly unable even to attend the relevant Interpol conferences to discuss and co-ordinate these activities. That is policing from an era of lovable antiques rogues in the spirit of Lovejoy and is totally not fit for purpose in dealing with serious organised crime, terrorist financing and the greatest destruction of works of art that we have known for half a century. That is unacceptable and warrants a review.
We could encourage co-operation, the key to fighting the trade in illicit antiquities, and promote good market behaviour such as the voluntary decision of some of the auction houses to set the year 2000 as one before which sellers must prove the provenance or the collected history of works of art, effectively shrinking the market for illicit works. That good practice is occurring and there is good news within this country, but it deserves the support of Government and deserves some co-operation. The Government could aid those efforts by appointing a co-ordinator to lead on the issue, bringing together the Department for Culture, Media and Sport, the Home Office and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, and could bring the museums, the art trade and law enforcement together to ensure that this country is a shining example of responsible cultural stewardship, whether in our great public collections or in the art business.
In conclusion, we are witnessing cultural barbarism at its worst and its consequences run deeper than arts and culture. Madness is being applied to monuments and sculptures are being turned into tanks. I believe we should act to help Iraqis and Syrians protect and preserve their heritage against terror, acknowledging our shared culture and common responsibility. By acting, however modestly, in some of the ways that I have suggested—modest efforts will have the most practical effect—we will do a good that will last long after our own time and, in the world of politics, leave a legacy for future generations.