An Eye for an Eye, a Jewel for a Jewel: The Truth of Art Theft in France
Photo from Canva.
Here in the Southern United States, the activities one might be taking part in at 9:30AM on a Sunday morning include sleeping in, going to church, making breakfast, and perhaps even getting in a quick workout. Of the many things a person might be getting up to on a sleepy Sunday morning, what they likely aren’t doing is robbing the most visited museum in the world.
Making off with an estimated 100 million dollars in sapphire necklaces, emerald earrings, and a diamond encrusted diadem, four suspects pulled off the most daring museum theft in decades. Their plan was simple: dress up like construction workers, climb up a giant ladder on wheels, use an angle grinder to break into the window, snatch the priceless jewels, and ride away on four motorbikes…all in seven short minutes. Unsurprisingly, this real life National Treasure reenactment caused a frenzy in the Louvre and across the world.
The four thieves, who were likely part of a greater organized crime group, got their hands on some of France’s most monetarily and culturally valuable items. The eight items each represented a part of France’s past. They once laid on the necks of royalty and rested on the heads of queens. It is easy to gloss over the true loss of history and culture in order to enjoy the story like a chapter in a crime novel, but the impact is truly devastating to art lovers worldwide. ABC News quoted French President Emmanuel Macron as saying the theft was an “attack on a heritage that we cherish because it is our history.” Unfortunately, the future of the artifacts is uncertain, as art thieves often destroy the pieces in order to sell them for parts.
This isn’t the first time the Louvre has lost pieces of art indefinitely to theft. In 1998, a painting by Camille Corot was also stolen, never to be returned. Professor Laura Evans, an art crime historian, author and professor, noted “I don’t think that thieves probably care about the historical, cultural, or emotional significance of these gems as they were, and would not blink at cutting them down into different shapes and sizes…” It is this notion of “cutting down” that is so abhorrent to any enjoyer of art or history. Inexplicably, humanity is tied to the expressions of beauty and memory; it hurts us when those things are sacrificed for greed.
The Louvre’s relationship with greed, beauty, and memory bears scrutiny. It is in reality, not a French museum. The Louvre boasts invaluable art works from places like Easter Island, Sierra Leone, Egypt, and many more. It is easy to feel repulsed by the idea of a greedy, entitled, powerful person, stealing pieces of art and culture for themselves. But what makes the dungeon of a billionaire any different from the Louvre itself? NPR reports that “French museums alone hold around 90,000 objects from Africa” and CNN states that, “About 90% of Africa’s cultural heritage is now believed to be in Europe.” If it is true that art is an expression of our deepest humanity, then almost all of Africa’s is still bound by the chains of European greed.
Luckily, there have been positive steps towards justice. In 2021, President Macron returned 26 artworks that were stolen from Benin by colonial soldiers in 1892. Along with the return, President Macron made a commitment to continue returning African works to their homes. Unfortunately, these goals seem to have fallen to the side, as bureaucratic challenges stand in the way of reuniting these heritage pieces to their peoples. The 26 returned Beninese works were out of 5,000 the country is still demanding back. In the wake of the Louvre theft, instead of relishing the thrill of the chase, we should focus on having empathy for those who have been stolen from before. Art is more than its monetary value, jewels are more than currency. They are how we represent ourselves. They are what we chose to do with our fleeting moments on earth. We should demand for them to be in the hands of those who created them, so they can live not trapped in a bank vault, or under the blinding lights of imperialist museums, but in the hearts of those they represent.