Colonialism and Conquest: An Examination of the Effects of Travel on Cultural Monuments

Written by Amille Bottom Designed by Emily Snisarenko Photographed by Elizabeth Watson

When we think of travel, the visions in our minds are typically of jet-setting across the globe, passports in hand and museum tickets purchased. The modern day idea of voyaging is not where humanity’s traveling started, though. For thousands of years, humans have been traversing the lands of Earth, discovering new cultures, languages, and environments along the way. The journey of homo sapiens took a turn for the worse, however, in the time of colonialism. Gone were the days of survival as explorers conquered the Western World, as history changed forevermore. It comes as no surprise that the effects of colonialism on the hundreds of cultures across the globe have been a hot topic over the last few decades; what is surprising, however, is that this issue has been widely discussed for centuries. In his pinnacle work, originally published in 1814, Baron de Vastey, a strict advocate for Haitian independence from the colonization of France, stated to colonists: “Take up your history book, read the story of your origins, observe the customs of your ancestors.” His goal was to make colonists see the degradation they had wrought on cultural monuments and systems around the world. Vastey’s sentiment is echoed in countless other narratives of colonial conquest and its effects on cultural structures. In her novel, Among the White Moon Faces, Malaysian author Shirley Geok-lin Lim acknowledges that “corruption is inherent in every culture, if we think of corruption as a will to break out… and thus to change.” This idea is simultaneously reflected in the recipient of the International Booker Prize, Chinua Achebe’s, novel There Was a Country, in which he writes: “A long-standing clash of Western and African civilizations had generated deep conversations and struggles between their respective languages, religions, and cultures.” But what does all of this scholarly text mean, exactly, in the context of colonialism, culture, and travel? Essentially, it means that “people from different parts of the world can respond to the same story if it says something to them about their own history and their own experience.” While that sounds like a positive opportunity for growth, it isn’t always the case. While Achebe is correct in his statement that one can learn and grow from the experience of a “story,” or cultural phenomenon, that same person can regress and take advantage of the situation. Take the Parthenon for example. This ancient temple is the pinnacle of Greece’s history; a remnant of the Golden Age of Athens and the famed commission of Pericles in response to the politics of fifth century Greece, the Parthenon is one of the most well-known cultural monuments in modern day. However, does one truly know the complete history of the Parthenon? The building may have started out as a temple to Athena, but it has lived through many different lives in many different cultures. According to the British Museum, the Parthenon “has been a temple, a church, a mosque and is now an archaeological site.” Upon learning this fact, readers may question where the remnants of Christianity and Islam are in this Greek temple. The answer lies in the classic war over territory that is colonialism. According to PBS, after Greece fell to the Byzantine Empire in the sixth century, the Parthenon underwent key structural changes in order to be converted into a Christian church. Moreover, with the conquering by the Ottoman Empire in 1458, the building was transformed into a Muslim mosque, resulting in more artistic additions to the structure. These modifications to the ancient structure were not the end, however. The Parthenon underwent bombings, looting, and failed rebuildings in the next few centuries, leading to the important ethical question: when is inteference with ancient history and its cultural monuments an overstep? Some would return to the words of Lim, in which she states that “corruption is inherent in every culture,” and that changes, whether morally good or bad, will happen. Others, on the opposite side of the

argument, insist that any interference with these cultural monuments is a negative circumstance. In terms of the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires conquerings, there is no right answer, for those are a part of history itself. In other cases, however, the answer becomes more clear. The most famous instance of cultural degradation comes in the case of the Parthenon’s Elgin Marbles. According to PBS, between the years 1801 and 1812, at the same time that Vastey was arguing for the end of colonization in Haiti, Lord Elgin of the British Empire was facilitating the removal of sections of the Parthenon to England. The British Museum’s collection features “different types of marble architectural decoration from the temple of Athena,” including “a frieze which shows the procession of the Panathenaic festival,” a “series of metopes,” and “figures of the gods and legendary heroes of the temple’s pediments.” Each and every structure obtained by the British Museum from the Parthenon contains images of key cultural importance to Greek culture in the fifth century. The ethics of Lord Elgin’s sale of the Athenian marbles to the British Museum is a continuously hot-button topic, and cannot be solved in the course of one article. Despite the muddle of the topic and the thousands of claims in support of the British Museum’s continual ownership of the ruins, one thing can be safely assumed: most cultures would not be happy about the break up and sale of their most significant cultural monument. It is this moment in the argument surrounding colonialism, travel, and cultural degradation that one may begin to question why this matters in a modern context. After all, if the destruction of the Parthenon and other cultural sites occurred centuries ago in the midst of colonization, why would it matter in the year 2021? The answer lies in the continued ruination of cultural monuments around the globe. According to The Baltimore Sun, archaeologists have discovered that “the moisture exhaled by the mounting number of tourists exploring the poorly ventilated chambers” of Egypt’s great pyramids has “raised humidity to dangerous levels, despoiling the structure[s].” Moreover, “visitors have used the burial chambers as lavatories” and left “cigarette butts, graffiti, and even condom wrappers” throughout the interiors of these monuments of history. In light of this, it is clear that human beings have begun a new form of colonization––one that is defined by the devastation of the physical testaments of history through litter, vandalism, and disrespect. In the same manner as the colonial forebears, cultural corruption is the mark left by the current generation. So what can one do to help stop the spread of pseudo-colonial ideals when it comes to cultural monuments and travel? The most obvious answer is as such: don’t leave “cigarette butts, graffiti,” and “condom wrappers” at famous historical landmarks. For a longer-lasting effect on the history of colonialism and culture, one can research the existing monuments to colonialism around the world. As human beings who are fascinated by the ancient, we have a tendency to glamorize monuments like the Parthenon and the pyramids of Egypt. While these places are certainly important, it may be simpler to start in one’s home country. For example, residents of the United States or other countries with a deeply-rooted history of colonial control, fostering a greater sense of awareness about colonialism’s impact is key. The average reader may not know that there is a wide discrepancy between statues for white settlers and statues for Native American leaders in the United States. According to the Smithsonian Institution, “there are nearly ninety Christopher Columbus statues across the country, nearly forty monuments to Lewis and Clark, and another ninety memorials to ‘explorers.’” In contrast, there are 258 statues that “represent American Indian history,” two-thirds of which “feature Indians within groups of white settlers.” Moreover, according to the National Council on Public History, in 2017, the Bear Ears National Monument was decreased by 85%, alongside the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, which was reduced by 47%. These two monuments “include cultural landscapes that remain sacred to numerous Native nations,” some of which include the “Hopi, Navajo, Uintah and Ouray Ute, Ute Mountain Ute, and Zuni.” The reduction of these monuments is a prime example of modern-day colonization in the works, and sheds light on the continued corruption that Vastey, Lim, and Achebe speak of in their works. The issue of modern-day colonization in the context of cultural monuments is a vastly confusing and complex matter, but there are ways to make it more clear. Through careful examination of the past effects of colonization on cultural monuments, as well as through sustainable and respectful travel, journeyers across the globe can both learn about various cultures and raise awareness for the respect they deserve. As travel begins anew, one must keep in mind that awareness, education, and an open mind are the most important aspects of being a prepared traveler in the year 2021 and beyond.