The Parthenon Marbles and International Law, Catherine Titi, Springer, 2023, 311 pages, €171.19
One may perhaps have some reason for amassing gold and silver; in fact, it would be impossible to attain universal dominion without appropriating these resources from other peoples, in order to weaken them. In the case of every other form of wealth, however, it is more glorious to leave it where it was, together with the envy which it inspired, and to base our country’s glory, not on the abundance and beauty of its paintings and statutes, but on its sober customs and noble sentiments. Moreover, I hope that the future conquers will learn from these thought not to plunder the cities subjugated by them, and not to make the misfortunes of other peoples the adornment of their own country.
Polybius of Athens (writing before 146 BCE), as quoted in ICJ Judge Charles de Visscher, International Protection of Works of Art and Historic Monuments, 823 (1949).
It would, I think, now be universally accepted, certainly by the People of Ireland, and by the people of most modern States, that one of the most important national assets belonging to the people is their heritage and knowledge of its true origins and the buildings and objects which constitute keys to their ancient history.
Supreme Court of Ireland, Chief Justice Finlay, Webb v. Ireland, 1988, I.R. 353.
The fate of the Parthenon marbles in the “Elgin Collection” and the merits of their return have been debated ever since Elgin’s agents excised them from the Parthenon on the Acropolis at Athens. Such is the nature of the discussion about the return of cultural property that numerous studies on the topic start with a question purportedly about ownership. Who owns history? Who owns antiquity? Who owns the past? In reality. The questions are aspirational. What they really mean is: who should own antiquity? Or who should own the past? While the questions about ownership and return are legal, the answer to them have been built around a debate.
The Parthenon Marbles and International Law, p. 21.
During a recent visit to London, the proprietorship of the Parthenon Marbles came up in a conversation. I argued that the marbles – which the Brits kept referring to as the “Elgin marbles” – must be returned to Greece. The Brits argued that the marbles were bought by Britain from Elgin, and therefore must remain in the British Museum. Predictably, my interlocutors, who, indecently, were highly educated, learned, if you will, were either misinformed or uninformed of some of some critical facts. In any event, it did not seem to matter much since as one of them put it, Greece would lose on legal grounds because of undue delay, estoppel, implied waiver, or laches in asserting ownership and making a legal claim for redress. Another canard among many peddled over the years, which, as my good friend Michael Vickery, the eminent historian would put it, is part of the Standard Total View (STV): repeating and re-repeating what has been heard as unquestionable truths without questioning the original source. Since 1836, Greece in one form or another has repeatedly requested and demanded the return of the marbles, only to be rebuffed by Britain. Simply because Greece never brought a lawsuit against Britain but has tried repeatedly and uncompromisingly to resolve the matter diplomatically does not mean that Greece has abandoned its claim or has unduly delayed its claim. Greece had partially gained its independent around 1828. While still in the midst of liberating the rest of modern-day Greece, it nonetheless acted with significant alacrity in requesting the return of the marbles from a then-empire (Britain) that it depended on in gaining its full independence.
Anyone advocating for Britain’s lawful and rightful ownership of the marbles cannot be expected to know all the facts and nuances, especially when considering the complex circumstances in which the Parthenon Marbles were removed from Athens. Lord Elgin, a Scottish Earl and British Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire in Constantinople from 1800 to 1803, transported the marbles by British naval vessels to Britain. Eventually sold the marbles to Britain, which ended up in the British Museum as the “Elgin Collection”. One would hope that before accepting as an article of faith the general refrain that Elgin lawfully removed the marbles and that Britain lawfully purchased them, and before parroting the vacuous mantra “no Elgin, no marbles”, there would be a modicum of knowledge of the facts of how Elgin stripped the marbles from the Parthenon, what sort of authority he actually had, what sort of damage he did to the Parthenon, the quality of proof and answers he provided as “owner” of the marbles during his negotiations to sell them to the British government, the reservations several members of parliament had as to Elgin’s veracity, etc.
But what if it was shown (proved) that Elgin had no authority to remove Parthenon Marbles and that in the process he irreparably damaged and weakened the Parthenon, that the supposed documentation he presented as granting him authorization was never thoroughly examined, that what he presented appears to be a draft in Italian bearing no signatures, that he extensively bribed the local authorities in order to remove the marbles, that an objective analysis of the enquiry of the 1816 Select Committee would lead to a beyond a reasonable doubt conclusion that it was clear to members of parliament that Elgin was peddling stolen property requiring of them a concerted effort of willful blindness and purposeful disregard of due diligence? Should then the marbles be returned? What if?
Predictably, my learned friends served me with the other much touted pedestrian excuse. Reuniting the marbles to their (rightful) place would have a cascading effect, triggering an onslaught of demands on museums the world over (mainly those of past colonial and imperial powers) for the repatriation of stolen and unlawfully removed cultural treasures. So what? Returning stolen or impermissibly taken cultural property – particularly when savagely ripped off ancient monuments for personal gain and later purchased knowing or suspecting it to have been stolen – is not a matter of Cultural Nationalism v. Cultural Internationalism as John Henry Merryman and others argue. It is about righting a wrong. It is also about adhering to the law, even if some of the law has developed ex post facto, or as in the case of customary international law, is in the ongoing process of refinement and crystallization.
The prevailing narrative hyped as to who has legitimate title of the Parthenon Marbles and why both for legal reasons and humanity reasons the marbles should remain in the British Museum, has been shaped by Stanford Law Professor and art collector John Henry Merryman. In his article Thinking About the Elgin Marbles, he sets out his thesis which was later expanded into a text (Thinking About the Elgin Marbles: Critical Essays on Cultural Property, Art and Law), and was the basis for his chapter in Imperialism, Art and Restitution. Rejecting what he characterizes as the “emotional appeal of the Greek position” based, in part, on Greek Minister of Culture and internationally recognized actress Melina Mercouri’s 1983 pleas to the UK government (which Merryman erroneously claims as the “first official request by the Greek Government) and dismissing any moral arguments justifying the return of the marbles, Merryman concluded that the Greeks have no have a legal claim, since, inter alia, Elgin lawfully removed the marbles even if he exceed the initial request granted to him.
Merryman makes light of the undisputed evidence of massive bribing by Elgin and his agents. Calling bribes gifts or claiming that this was the way business was done at that time, in that part of the world, flies in the face of having a legal document granting rights of removal of statutes that are affixed to and constitute an integral part of the Parthenon. This was known to the Select Committee and to Parliament. Indeed, it is not an exaggeration to say that the British Parliament knowingly purchased stolen cultural heritage property, unlawfully obtained by Elgin through deceit and bribes. Merryman not only fails to seriously deal with these matters (how could he if his knowledge of the facts was limited by his own lack of due diligence) but also fails to thoroughly examine all available applicable law – objectively. His analysis has the whiff of a pre-determined conclusion that would support his Cultural Internationalism approach in dealing with stolen or ill-gotten cultural heritage found in museums projecting – to quote Ana Filipa Vrdoljak – “imperial ambitions through a universal survey museum befitting an imperial capital of an ever-expanding colonial empire.”((Ana Filipa Vrdoljak, International Law, Museums And The Return of Cultural Objects (2006), p. 31.))
Merryman’s arguments have had traction – especially with non-lawyers. Yet, few have done an in-depth analysis of the facts and the law, and even fewer have challenged Merryman’s casual knowledge of international law and lack of due diligence when it comes to verifying the facts. Here are some of the authoritative sources generally referred to when discussing the Parthenon Marbles.
William St. Clair’s Lord Elgin & the Marbles offers a fine treatment of Elgin’s appointment as ambassador to Constantinople and nicely contextualizes the historical events which, in no small measure, are relevant to whatever permission Elgin would have received (he initially only wanted to make molds, not to remove anything from any structure). Elgin’s claim to the Select Committee that he was acting in his personal capacity in seeking and receiving the firman (an official decree or mandate) rings hollow and bears the stench of mendacity when considering that he was Ambassador of Britain immediately after the British navy had routed Napolean’s French troops in Egypt – an accomplishment that undoubtedly was viewed with gratitude by the Ottoman Sultan. St. Clair also does a fine job in debunking the myth that the marbles were preserved unharmed while in the care of the British Museum. His Chapter ‘The Damage is Obvious and Cannot be Exaggerated’ is an unvarnished account of how some of marble sculptures were effectively defaced – irreparably, albeit unintendedly.
As weighty St. Clair’s book is (418 pages), he obviously did not chase the firman controversy (some MP’s had expressed serious reservations to Elgin’s veracity) to get to the truth. For that, one must look elsewhere. Many have admirably delved into this issue, but the most authoritative expert in my view is David Rudenstine, law professor and former Dean of Cardozo Law School. More than anyone else (see e.g., here, here, here, and here), he has scoured the archives, searching for original documents, painstakingly putting together all available strands, examining them in context, re-examining translations, weaving a tapestry that suffers no doubt as to the lack of authenticity of the firman, Elgin’s mendacity, and the Select Committee’s ultimate whitewashing. But even if the British government thought it was buying legitimately acquired antiquity marbles of cultural significance from Elgin, and even if we were to accept the Select Committee’s seal of approval, “parliamentary approval does not turn an internationally wrongful act into one that is lawful.” While “[d]omestic law is sometimes invoked in the Parthenon marbles case to justify retention of the marbles in the British Museum”, Professor Catherine Titi in The Parthenon Marbles and International Law shows the “nugatory” nature of such arguments.
Much like Merryman, William St. Clair’s incomplete and at times inaccurate factual renditions of Elgin’s claims of having obtained legal authorization through a firman are wanting when closely scrutinized. The supposed firman not only is it not official, but it also did not authorize Elgin to barbarously strip the metopes and frieze or any other integral parts of the Parthenon’s structure. Artist Giovani Battista Lusieri, in charge of removing the marbles, admitted “I have even been obliged to be a little barbarous.”
Geoffrey Robertson’s Who Owns History: Elgin’s Loot and the Case for Returning Plundered Treasure is a splendid read, based on a 141-page summary legal opinion that he, along with late Professor Norman Palmer KC and Amal Clooney, provided to the Greek government on 31 July 2015. As informative as it is engaging, it provides valuable insight into some of the applicable international law, but lacks the analytical rigor of a legal textbook. Though Robertsons’ analysis tracts the summary legal opinion seemingly aimed at securing a brief from the Greek government, it is nonetheless a less than a thorough treatment of the law. This is understandable since his aim seems to have been to produce book for general readership.
Christopher Hitchens’ The Parthenon Marbles: The Case for Reunification and Mary Beard’s The Parthenon are casual reads. the late Mr. Hitchens, who I admired as a writer, critical thinker, and indispensable moral gadfly, was commissioned to write the book, so aside from abstaining from doing any serious legal analysis, one could claim that his conclusions are somewhat compromised. Dame Beard is no different. As a classicist she make no serious effort in identifying, let alone analyzing, the various national and international legal issues involved. She does comment on the domestic and international politics for and against repatriation. As much as I admire Beard as a classicist, I found her comment about the “vulgar nationalism of some of the Greek arguments, with optimist assurance that the inhabitants of modern Greece are the spiritual, if no literal, heirs of Pericles and his friends,” indicative of insensitive, neo-colonialist racism. This is one of the arguments that tends to be raised against the return of the marbles: modern Hellenes can have no legitimate claims to cultural monuments such as the Parthenon since they are not related, culturally or otherwise, to the ancient Athenians. As such, though the Parthenon is physically located in modern Greece, it, or at least the looted marbles ripped from it, belong to humanity.
Tiffany Jenkins’ Keeping their Marbles: How Treasures of the Past Ended Up in Museums … and Why They Should Stay advances similar arguments. One need not go beyond the title to figure out that her arguments are anything but based on the law. Among her various arguments, in advocating Cultural Internationalism Jenkins claims that counties demanding the return of ancient antiquities such as Turkey, Greece, Nigeria, Peru, Italy “are in many cases relatively recent formations in human history” and thus the “antiquity that is claimed by these states predates them.” Modern Greeks cannot possibly have any cultural claims (as would be the case with other states seeking the return of stolen antiquities originating on their land) because no one culture was affixed to the land of modern Greece. In the case of Greece, it was the ancient Athenians who built the Parthenon; hence Greeks and modern Greece can have no legitimate legal or cultural claim to the Parthenon Marbles. Jenkins, like Beard, adds nothing to the debate as to who owns the Parthenon Marbles. Other than parroting Merryman on the law and heedlessly accepting the STV that Elgin had permission to dislodge the marbles from the Parthenon and had full title of them to sell as he did, she makes no effort to unpack the applicable international law relevant to the debate. Granted, she is not a lawyer.
Finally!

While there are also many fine articles that combined add much to the debate, at last, we have the first serious legal textbook on the Parthenon Marbles that explores all legal issues under international law relevant to all arguments for and against repatriation of the marble: The Parthenon Marbles and International Law by Catherine Titi, tenured Research Associate Professor at the French National Centre for Scientific Research, University Paris II Panthéon-Assas, France.
Titi obviously knows the law. She also has a well-grounded appreciation of the practical intricacies of litigation (here I include arbitration and mediation), which, like all good international lawyers, informs her bottom line when it comes to offering a way forward towards a final resolution for the return of the Parthenon Marbles to Greece. Without giving away too much, Titi advises that just because Greece can litigate through a number of fora with a more than even chance of succeeding, doesn’t mean it should. She, like many (including yours truly), thinks the best approach is through diplomacy. Whereas Geoffrey Robertson was advising Greece to take the matter before the International Court of Justice (ICJ) with UN General Assembly support through UNESCO for an advisory opinion and claiming that a failure to act swiftly might bolster a laches argument for rejecting any claims to the marbles, Titi is circumspect. She is of the opinion that even were the Greek government to proceed, it does not mean an ICJ advisory opinion would alter the British government’s position. There is merit in taking the slow diplomatic road she suggests: momentum – driven by international law and moral imperative (public sympathy) – is increasingly on the Greek side, and friction in the Greek-Britain relationship should be avoided.
The question is how can Greece nudge Britain into doing the right thing? Here is where Titi excels. Unpeeling the legal onion as it were, she analyzes all permutations effectively showing that however you slice and dice the facts surrounding the removal of the marbles, Britain is on the wrong side of international law – especially when considering the ongoing development of customary international law and the interinstitutional legal instruments that have come to the fore in the past century, but most notably since WWII. Mindful of the jurisdictional issues likely to be raised, Titi creatively shows that there is a sufficient thread of customary international law (she starts by invoking the Caius Verres case before the Roman Extortion Court around 71 BC) to weave a tapestry showing that the law has or is nearly crystalized. One must also look at the evolution of and continuing evolvement of international law to see just how strong of a legal argument Greece has, and how most, if not all jurisdictional issues can be overcome.
The Parthenon Marbles and International Law is dense with valuable information and insightful analysis. Indeed, this modest post cannot do it justice by trying to recount and analyze all that is packed into it. All I can say is read the book. But to help you along, here is what you can expect.
Consisting of 11 chapter with an annex, the book is divided into four parts. The introduction sets the stage, with the Verres case and Cicero’s prosecutorial orations. The point of course was to draw parallels with the plundering of the Parthenon Marbles, but also to show that even in ancient times, cultural property enjoyed a special status and one that deserved to be respected – even if located in occupied land. Some may argue that this is far too ancient and remote, certainly factually and historically different to invoke as credible let alone relevant authority, but Titi is right: “We cannot brush aside the Verres case as either ancient or obsolete. It is at the origin of some notion of customary international law on the return of cultural property unlawfully taken from its original context.” Cicero’s approach in prosecuting the case lends the notion of valuing cultural property, planting the seed that would evolve into customary international law. Titi astutely observes that by flipping his role as prosecutor and taking on the role of defending those wronged by Verres, Cicero mounted “a defence of ‘many men, many cities, the whole province of Sicily.’” In other words, to prosecute a thief of cultural property (Elgin, not too unlike Verres, was a thief) is to defend those deprived of their cultural property, their cultural heritage.
Part I, titled The Facts, has five chapters setting out the factual matrix of the Parthenon Marble saga. Chapters 2 and 3 discuss the Parthenon, its cultural significance, and the space where the marbles would be installed upon their return (the new Acropolis Museum), and Elgin’s looting. While all the essentials on of Elgin’s looting are sufficiently covered and easily digestible, anyone wishing a more in-depth, detailed rendition and analysis of all available facts, may wish to consult Rudenstine.
Chapter 4 deals with the acquisition of marbles. Again, this is a short but meaty chapter, with Titi showing that despite the protestations of the British Museum and others, the purchase of the marbles was not done in good faith, or to put it bluntly, the British Parliament, knowing it was purchasing stolen good, committed fraud by whitewashing Elgin’s misdeeds (including crimes). Hence why no lawful property deed could be conjured up by the British Parliament and thus no legitimate ownership can be claimed by Britain or the British Museum.
Chapter 5 debunks the notion that Greece has been less than diligent and has unduly delayed making claims to the marbles purloined by Elgin and bought by Britain and housed in the British Museum. One is left with no doubt that though Greece has never perused the theft of the marbles and the unlawful purchase of them in a British court or in any international court, almost from its birth as a modern nation having gained its independence after 400 years of enslavement by the Ottoman empire, it has repeatedly demanded the return of the marbles. Titi does an excellent job in laying out the historical context of the various requests. Context is essential to the debate of laches or undue delay in claiming ownership and in requesting their return. Titi gives ample thought as to why Greece has pursued the matter of the marbles with Britain – an empire when the marbles were stolen and sold, and a valued ally during both world wars and thereafter.
Chapter 6 ends Part I by delving into the British Museum stewardship of the marbles, including the damage cause to some when attempting to whiten them – the Duveen Scouring Scandal, the near catastrophic miss when the British Museum was bombed during the Nazi blitz, the loaning the loaning to Russia. So much for the claim that the marbles were saved by and safer with Britain. Titi’s recount of the British Museum’s position on its ownership and unwillingness to brook discussion for a permanent return of the marbles, as measured as exacting as disquieting. She also deftly exposes the fallacies surrounding the debate between Cultural Nationalism v. Cultural Internationalism, and why it has nothing to do with the legality (and morality) of returning the Parthenon Marbles to their place of origin.
Part II, titled Access to Dispute Settlements, has two chapters dealing with methods of dispute settlement and jurisdictional and admissibility, respectively. Recognizing that the return of the Parthenon Marbles has a certain political dimension, she also appreciates, rightly (and which is the overarching thrust of the text), that there is a legal dimension which needs to be considered (and which, in my opinion, trumps the political). Both chapters are exquisite, packed with information essential in gradually laying the groundwork for what is to come in the chapters that follow.
In Chapter 7, Titi treats the reader to the available options or avenues for pursuing a settlement. She expertly discusses topics such as negotiations, mediation, arbitration, judicial settlement, as well as the practical considerations, which, as I’ve previously noted, are an essential aspect which any competent international lawyer must appreciate, and, importantly, pass on to the client in order to give informed instructions.
In Chapter 8, Titi tackles the jurisdictional issues, informing of the various objections to admissibility that may be available and most likely to be raised, such as waiver, estoppel, acquiescence, and extinctive prescription. In dealing with the question of attribution (is it the British Museum or the UK government?), Titi reminds us of UNESCO’s 2021 Intergovernmental Committee for the Promoting of Cultural Property to its Countries of Origin or its Restitution in case of Illicit Appropriation express recognition of the Parthenon Marble case being of an intergovernmental character, with the responsibility for the return of the marbles resting with the UK government – not the British Museum. Naturally, Britain, find this unacceptable. Here is where Part I of this gem of a book exposes the absurdity and illogicality of the UK government’s position. Who bought the stolen marbles, knowing or suspecting them to have been stollen? Passing them on to the British Museum and claiming lack of responsibility is pathetic.
Part III, titled The Law Applicable to the Substance of the Dispute, has two chapters dealing with treaty law and customary international law, respectively. While I might have placed these two chapters earlier in the text, there is a certain logic in having them here considering Titi’s ultimate conclusion on how the reunification of the marbles can best be achieved.
In Chapter 9, Titi covers the 1954 Hague Convention and its two protocols, the 1970 UNESCO Convention and the UNIDROIT Convention, noting quite rightly that while they are not retroactive and cannot directly apply, they do inform and are instructive in showing the wrongfulness of Elgin’s acts and of the British Museum’s retention of the marbles. While it can be argued that these conventions were ushered in because only recently the views on acts such as those by Elgin and other colonial thieves of cultural property has changed, this belies historical events. From the Verres case and onwards there is sufficient evidence showing that looting cultural property has been considered unacceptable if not unlawful. In Britain’s case, it merits recalling its position with Napoleonic France. Under the Treaty of Paris of 1815, also referred to as the Second Treaty of Paris, the Duke of Wellington and Viscount Castlereagh forced France to repatriate looted cultural objects, which, like the British Museum, were to be displayed and appreciated in an encyclopedic museum such as the Louvre. Titi also explores the possibility of relying on the European Convention on Human Rights as a possible source of law. While a credible argument can be made that a legitimate claim exists for violation of the right to property when cultural objects are taken away from their place of origin thus dispossessing those to whom the cultural objects are part of their heritage, the jurisprudence of European Court of Human Rights does not support a right to cultural identity as an active right.
In Chapter 10, Titi discusses the nature of customary international law and its potential use as a source of law. Reading the preceding chapters, it is clear that there is momentum in the development of the law for the repatriation of unlawfully removed cultural objects. The conventions perhaps have contributed to voluntary acts of repatriation that fall outside the temporal jurisdiction. While such repatriations cannot support arguments of retroactive precedence, they do serve as impetus to moral arguments, adding pressure to states possessing looted cultural objects to do the right thing. In the final analysis, Titi is measured: while the conventions along with the voluntary acts of repatriation and any domestic jurisprudence show a full crystallization of customary international law may be debatable, it is only a matter of time. Either way, nothing should be taken off the table in pressing for the return of the Parthenon Marbles based on legal, moral, and political grounds.
Part IV, Titled Conclusion, has two short chapters. Chapter 11 is very short (5 pages) and somewhat underdeveloped for a text dense with information as this is. I would have preferred a conclusion that summarized the essence of overarching and particular issues and arguments, even though they are cogently summarized at the end of each chapter. This would have added to the strength of what already is a very strong and formidable text – especially for those who may not be as familiar with the facts or applicable law discussed. Chapter 12 is a three-page annex of a statement by the trustees of the British Museum. As interesting as it may be, it could have been left out. It is a no never mind, nothing to the legal debate.
The Parthenon Marbles and International Law is both a tour de horizon and a tour de force on the law. Marvelously written and with a keen eye for both detail and nuance, Professor Catherine Titi informs as much as she provokes thought on the nature of international law on the Parthenon Marbles and the return of cultural objects unlawfully taken from their rightful place of origin and found in museums. It is a must read for anyone interested in this area of international law.
I highly recommend The Parthenon Marbles and International Law.
Epilogue: reflective musings
Elgin through his agents removed 17 figures from the Parthenon pediments, 15 metopes, 56 slabs of the temple friezes, one caryatid column, four pieces of the temple of victory, 13 marble heads, and a large assortment of carved fragments, painted vases, sepulchral pillars, and inscribed albas.((See Karl E. Meyer, The Plundered Past (Atheneum 1973), p.174.)) And this is what we can account for; other items were likely lost during a shipwreck of one of the transport journeys. The tons of marble removed, and the damage done to the structural integrity of the Parthenon is beyond cavil. Lamenting this looting of and damage to the Parthenon by Elgin, Lord Byron wrote in Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage (1812):
Cold as the crags upon his native coast,
His mind as barren and his heart as hard,
Is he whose head conceived, whose hand prepared,
Aught to displace Athena’s poor remains:
Her sons, too week the sacred shrine to guard,
Yet felt some portion of their mother’s pains,
And never knew, till then, the wight of the Despot’s chains.
The reunification of the Parthenon Marbles seems now to be a matter of time – months, maybe years, but not decades. Britain can and should do the honorable thing and just make what undoubtedly will be a painful bur rightful decision. Elegantly put:
“Had not these lovely things been preserved in England, they would have been destroyed during the Greek War of Independence!”
Now that is the very argument which has been used and repeatedly used, whenever the British have had qualms of conscience about the Elgin Marbles. It is a rotten argument. In the first place, those statutes and sculptures which escaped Lord Elgin’s depredations survived undamaged the battles of the Greek War of Independence. In the second place, if they were restored now to Greece they would certainly be as safe as in the British Museum. And in the third place, it is not for a receiver of stolen goods to claim that the goods are safer in his case than if restored to the original owners.
Sir Harold Nicolson
Excellent post.
The issue presented here, not only very complicated of course. But, very hot one. Especially after the killing of George Floyd in the US, and the unrest it has generated all over the world ( raising issues of post colonialism let’s call it so, and treatment of historical monuments etc….).
Just one important point, seems to be missing in this debate:
Cultural identity can be very misleading indeed (as well mentioned in the post). How do we know today, who are the descendants of ancient times or peoples etc… Correct. Very illusive. Yet, one identity, is much less illusive:
The nature of the land itself. Its rivers. Its valleys. Its weather. Rocks. Soil. Mountains .Fruits… You name it. As well its monuments. Those who created such monuments, surly had been inspired by the geographical contexts. It does also belong to the peace of land where had been ripped of. Not only to the creators of the monuments or the ancient people residing there. It is integral part of the landscape. You can’t imagine the statue of Liberty, located or relocated somewhere else, but, as it stands, where it is located in the US.
So, ownership, can’t be restricted to human legal terms one may argue. The land, demands it back. Back to its natural niche.
Thanks