The key issue addressed in this article is authenticity, which is a criterion that is no longer limited to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization’s world heritage domain. This article draws from one of the most interesting public projects in the United States – the John F. Kennedy (JFK) Terminal 5/6 Redevelopment Plan, which was part of the larger JFK master plan. The project’s Trans World Airlines (TWA) terminal, which is the only landmarked terminal and remnant of the original JFK airport plan, raised concerns. In 2001, the debate started off with keeping the terminal building active for aviation use and experiences. Nonetheless, the terminal was reimagined into a luxury hotel in 2019. This article unveils the micro-politics in the redevelopment plan and examines the authenticity of the TWA terminal and how it was (re)constructed. In doing so, the article sheds light on urban law and the decision-making process. Moreover, it discusses the tangible and intangible consequences of the prevailing speculative logic in the law.

Under the postwar American occupation of Germany, art produced by the Staffel der bildenden Künstler (German Combat Artist Unit) of Nazi Germany was sent to US military sites for storage under the direction of Captain Gordon Gilkey. Gilkey was head of the German War Art Project, the arm of the Historical Division of the US army tasked with confiscating German “propaganda and war art.” This art, considered a dangerous instrument of Nazi revival, was not protected by laws prohibiting art looting. Yet American officers were sympathetic to many of the paintings created by combat artists, and the German combat artists themselves were torn about their roles in Nazism, perceiving themselves as either victims or survivors merely attempting to make a living. This article traces the history of this artwork from its seizure in postwar Germany through its internment in the United States up to later attempts in the 1950s and 1980s to restitute the works to their creators.

Few Old Master paintings possess as turbulent an object history as the Ghent altarpiece, now restored, since World War II, to the city’s cathedral for which it was made. While most accounts focus on the longue durée perspective, especially the work’s looting by Napoleon and Hitler, this article examines the altarpiece’s history following its return to Belgium in 1945. The altarpiece was subject to increased sensitivity at home after its wartime wanderings, and a major controversy ensued when the government backed a radical conservation project, which took place under the direction of Paul Coremans at the Royal Museum in Brussels between 1950 and 1951. The project served to emphasize the rift between north and south in Belgium in the newspaper press and became a focus for the international community as it battled to establish new standards in art restoration in the aftermath of the war.

In recent years, the work of the American Monuments Men has been celebrated in popular histories and culture, such as bestselling books by Robert Edsel and a feature film directed by George Clooney (The Monuments Men, 2014). While public awareness of Nazi art looting and the courageous work of American cultural officers is long overdue, these popular narratives elide the role played by women and other Western Allies and fail to address the corps’ greatest failure: the incomplete restitution of Jewish assets. This article explores these factors through a case study of British Major Anne Olivier Popham (1916–2018), who served the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives (MFA&A) division in Bünde from November 1945 to October 1947. Drawing on Popham’s diaries held at the Imperial War Museum in London, the author’s interview with her, and British and American archives, the case study yields important insight into personnel recruited by the MFA&A, gender relations among the officers, methodological dilemmas presented by the use of first-hand accounts, and the ongoing need for transnational restitution efforts.

This article offers a critical appraisal of the evolution of Italian cultural heritage law with respect to issues of colonial and war restitution and of control over the import of potentially trafficked cultural property. As Italy is usually considered a “source country” and a victim of historical depredations, a form of “selective blindness” to its colonial past and to its role at the receiving end of both past and current misappropriations of cultural objects is discussed. Some recent restitutions of cultural property taken in times of colonial occupation are also analyzed as signs of a possible change in policy and practice, but the article also highlights the features of political expediency that have influenced them as well as the many legal and practical obstacles still to be faced by restitution and repatriation claims. Finally, the potential effects of recent (mostly international) inputs on Italy’s cultural heritage policy are presented.

University-based anthropology museums are uniquely positioned to pursue nuanced decisions concerning the disposition of collections in their care, setting best practice for the field. The authors describe a three-staged approach to repatriations that they led during their concurrent service as head of cultural policy and repatriation (Jordan Jacobs) and director (Benjamin Porter) of the University of California, Berkeley’s Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology between 2015 and 2019. Examples involving human remains and cultural objects from Australia, Canada, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Iraq, Japan, Mexico, Panama, Peru, Saipan, Senegal, Vanuatu, Venezuela, and South Carolina in the United States demonstrate the benefits of transparency, open communication, and rigorous investigation of provenance and provenience, which may or may not lead to transfer based on the criteria and priorities of potential recipients. This article also provides a history of the Hearst Museum’s Cultural Policy and Repatriation division, which was disbanded in 2021.

The hope has long been that the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) would finally bring ancestors and their cultural items home to their communities to be reconnected and rest. However, 30 years later, museums and academics still fear losing control of research and access in their intellectual pursuits. Far from true, museums have benefited in working with tribes in telling stories around their cultural history, present and future. This article shares experiences over the authors’ careers and counters the alarmist calls to arms against compliance with NAGPRA.

The publication of a book in 2020 that argues against repatriation, on the grounds that it is incompatible with the necessary objectivity required for the production of scientific knowledge, raises issues that most scholars consider long settled. Rather than engage in a detailed review, this commentary revisits the reasons why claims of contributing to universal knowledge are insufficient to justify exploitation of the physical remains, and cultural property, of people who object to specific lines of research and reminds readers that academic freedom is a mitigated freedom that is rooted in responsibilities and norms agreed on within disciplines, all of which today accept repatriation as part of the necessary redress of legacies of exploitation.

This commentary debunks the poor scholarship in Repatriation and Erasing the Past by Elizabeth Weiss and James Springer. We show that modern bioarchaeological practice with Indigenous remains places ethics, partnership, and collaboration at the fore and that the authors’ misconstructed dichotomous fallacy between “objective science” and Indigenous knowledge and repatriation hinders the very argument they are espousing. We demonstrate that bioarchaeology, when conducted in collaboration with stakeholders, enriches research, with concepts and methodologies brought forward to address common questions, and builds a richer historical and archaeological context. As anthropologists, we need to acknowledge anti-Indigenous (and anti-Black) ideology and the insidious trauma and civil rights violations that have been afflicted and re-afflicted through Indigenous remains being illegally or unethically obtained, curated, transferred, and used for research and teaching in museums and universities. If we could go so far as to say that anything good has come out of this book, it has been the stimulation in countering these beliefs and developing and strengthening ethical approaches and standards in our field.

Organ craftsmanship and music are inextricably linked with each other. In Germany, a particularly rich symbiosis between craftspeople, composers, and performing artists has evolved over the centuries. In recognizing the transmission of this intangible cultural know-how from generation to generation, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) inscribed organ craftsmanship and music together in the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2017. This article elucidates how this inscription influences the perception and self-concept of organ craftsmanship and music, both in theoretic-intellectual and in virtual terms. Complementing the qualitative content analysis of literature and documents, narrative first-hand accounts/expert interviews with organ craftspeople/organ builders have been conducted and interpreted. Taking into account a dual nexus of cultural sustainability and intangible cultural heritage, sustainable value creation, substantial claims, multi-perspective visibility, and facilitative reassurance were analyzed and assessed vis-à-vis organ craftsmanship and music. Including organ craftsmanship and music in UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity demonstrates an appreciation for sustainable value creation related to the quadruple bottom-line of sustainability – that is, addressing economic, environmental, and societal aspects, including culture as a fully integrated dimension; claims substantial rights for safeguarding and invoking/activating heritage; enhances visibility of performing organists, assigned organ builders, frequent practitioners, and nominated organ experts; and enables reassurance of passion and self-positioning with organ craftsmanship and music.

This article considers the recent and vigorous critique of the Dutch restitution policy on Nazi-looted art in connection with the inclusion of what has been termed the “public interest” in the applicable substantive assessment framework. This assessment framework is entirely based on morally induced policy rules, and it allows the Dutch Restitutions Committee to advise on requests for restitution based on a weighing of interests, including the significance of the work to a museum or public art collection. Although one might question the appropriateness of such interests in a framework designed to remedy historic injustices, it remains to be seen whether this critique is entirely justified. Recent recommendations issued by the Dutch Restitutions Committee indicate that it takes a generous, rather than strict, approach when dealing with requests for restitution. All in all, it seems that both institutional and substantive vulnerability are inevitable if one embarks on a morally induced framework based on mere policy rules rather than legal rules.

Rescue has long been a defense for the removal of cultural property. Since the explosion of iconoclasm in West Asia, North Africa, and West Africa, there has been a growing demand for cultural property in danger zones to be “rescued” by being purchased and given “asylum” in “safe zones” (typically, in the market countries of Western Europe and North America). This article reviews evidence from natural experiments with the “rescue” of looted antiquities and stolen artifacts from across Asia and Europe. Unsurprisingly, the evidence reaffirms that “rescue” incentivizes looting, smuggling, and corruption, as well as forgery, and the accompanying destruction of knowledge. More significantly, “rescue” facilitates the laundering of “ordinary” illicit assets and may contribute to revenue streams of criminal organizations and violent political organizations; it may even weaken international support for insecure democracies. Ultimately, “rescue” by purchase appears incoherent, counter-productive, and dangerous for the victimized communities that it purports to support.

In this article, we aim to focus on how the Iberian past (sixth century to the first century BC) has been used both to shape identities and to produce values in the marketplace and how the triad of the past, authenticity, and tradition is key in the commodification of the Iberian world. To do so, we will examine developments in the village of Moixent (Valencia, Spain). In this town, the Iberians and their archaeological remains are presented as the protagonists of the area, accompanied by several “heritage stratifications.” Through case studies of family-run wineries, we analyze the process of symbolic appropriation of the Iberians in the local wine sector and its confluence with cultural tourism as well as how it has led to the development of territorial branding based on the past.

Since the publication of the “restitution report” by Felwine Sarr and Bénédicte Savoy in November 2018, the debate around the restitution of African artifacts inherited from German colonialism in German museums has become increasingly intense. While the restitution debate in Germany is generally focused on “material cultural heritage” and human remains, this reflection attempts to contextualize the “immaterial heritage” (museum collections inventory data, photographs, movies, sound recordings, and digital archive documents) from German colonialism and plead for its consideration in this debate. It claims that the first step of restitution consists of German ethnological museums being transparent about their possessions of artifacts from colonial contexts, which means providing all available information about museum collections from colonial contexts and making them easily accessible to the people from the former German colonies.