Museums like the V&A shouldn't be allowed to return ‘looted' treasures

Spectator

09-07-2025

Henry Cole, the first director of what would become the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A), could never have imagined that in his place would follow a man who seems determined to rail against the safeguards that have helped keep the museum's collection intact. But this, sadly, appears to be the task Tristram Hunt is committed to.
Hunt knew the law before he took the job
Hunt, director of the V&A since 2017, has declared the 1983 National Heritage Act which prevents him from returning artefacts to their country of origin, to be 'outdated and infantilising'. In fact, it is a key reason why collections, including the V&A's, have been maintained.
Britain is home to several thousand museums. Most, subject to the odd deed of trust and their constitutional obligations, are free to do as they please with the items under their care. But a handful are considered of such national importance that they are protected in law. Acts of Parliament such as the National Heritage Act, the Museums and Galleries Act 1992, and the British Museum Act 1963 strictly limit disposal of objects except in rare and carefully defined circumstances (none of which include the political motivations of a director).
Hunt appears to think that the law that prevents him from casting aside the V&A's long history, and 'return(ing)' items, is not fit for purpose. Among the treasures mentioned by Hunt during his speech at the University of Cambridge's Global Humanities Network last month are Tippoo's Tiger, a wooden tiger made for Tipu, Sultan of Mysore, and an Asante crown taken from Ghana. He is seeking an amendment to the law which would give museum trustees 'autonomy' over the fate of such items.
Conspicuously absent from this debate is any real reflection on the role that the claimant countries themselves play in these negotiations, and what that says about their commitment to contested objects.
In 2007, Ethiopia lodged a formal restitution claim for hundreds of objects now residing in the V&A, including a crown and gold chalice taken by the British in 1872. The request was denied due to the laws prohibiting restitution from the V&A. But after Hunt became director in 2017, a possible workaround was put forward: the ambassador was informed that 'the speediest way, if Ethiopia wanted to have these items on display, is a long-term loan.' This arrangement, first hinted at by Hunt in 2018, would have allowed the objects to be sent to Ethiopia on a long term or indefinite loan with an expectation that the arrangement would be renewed ad infinitum.
Ethiopia refused to play ball. 'The Ethiopian government, for perfectly understandable political reasons, took the view that…'You offering to lend stuff you stole from us' wasn't politically viable so we've reached a kind of impasse with these objects,' Hunt said.
Other countries have been more accommodating. Last year a number of Ghanian objects were sent to Kumasi from the V&A for display – an arrangement which will see the objects legally protected (from damage, loss, or sale), while permitting display in a country which values them.
A paper I co-authored for Policy Exchange earlier this year with Sir Trevor Phillips found that items returned unconditionally are often at serious risk. Benin Bronzes returned by museums across the world have disappeared into private collections. Some bronzes even seem to have gone missing from museums in Lagos and Benin City. Their fate remains unknown, but the story offers a stark reminder of the dangers of transferring artefacts into the ownership of other countries without question.
So why is a loan unacceptable to the Ethiopian government? If Ethiopia truly wishes to display these objects for public benefit, why reject a loan that guarantees just that? Their insistence on legal ownership – rather than public display – rather weakens the moral force of their claim.
The V&A is simply too historically significant to have its collection held hostage to the whims of a single, self-styled visionary. Hunt knew the law before he took the job. If he was so determined to spend his days dispatching artefacts abroad, there was no shortage of museums that would have indulged him. Instead, he accepted stewardship of one of England's great civic treasures – the first museum in the world to fling open its doors to the masses and truly democratise visual education. Cole famously installed gas lamps so that working men and women could visit after dark, helping to break the aristocratic stranglehold on art and culture.
Hunt risks undoing that work: gutting the V&A of its international collections and ensuring that the experience of world history is once again a privilege reserved for those who can afford the airfare.