Empires of Antiquities: Modernity and the Rediscovery of the Ancient Near East, 1914–1950

Abstract

This is a fascinating exploration of the interaction of archaeology, British imperialism, and modernity. Based on extensive archival research as well as primary reading, Melman's study sets out to “elucidate the place that antiquity occupied” (3) in British historical and cultural life, specifically in its imperial role in the Near East. Although the interwar period is the focus, the telling of the story necessitates incursions into eras previous to and following this high point of the British Empire. This is not a history of archaeology, as one searches in vain for a discussion of field methodology or archaeological theory. As Melman states, this is a story about modern people (10) and the materiality of ancient objects (14).Consisting of ten substantive chapters with an introduction and short conclusion, this book achieves the author's goals. Melman groups the chapters into four parts: “Antiquity and the New Post-War Imperial Order”; “Biblical Pasts in Mandated Palestine”; “‘The Most Ancient Past’: Mesopotamian Antiquities and Modernity”; and “Egypt's Ancient Pasts: Empire, Antiquity, and Technology.” The highly valuable introduction elucidates the shape of the coming narrative and presents the core themes and conclusions. This long introduction should be required reading for any student of the archaeology of the Ancient Near East and/or Egypt, particularly for those interested in the development of the field. One minor grumble: this narrative essentially ignores the British colony of Cyprus, even though the archaeological exploration of Cyprus between the wars was highly influenced by the British Mandate policies in Palestine. This may come out of an unfortunate but common Hellenic bias in nonspecialists' understanding of Cyprus's rich cultural heritage. Had that ultimate prophet of modernity, T. E. Lawrence, become Director of Antiquities in 1935 (he declined the offer of the governor, Sir Ronald Stoors), Cyprus would undoubtedly have had a much stronger presence in this narrative.The first chapter discusses the impact of World War I and the conflicting claims of “to the victor belong the spoils” and an emerging sense of imperial responsibility for Near Eastern archaeology. Melman correctly identifies the new antiquities laws of the British Mandate in Palestine as being highly influential on how archaeologists carried out research in the new British possessions (38). Melman's near-exclusive focus on British interests paradoxically weakens her discussion of British Mandate archaeology. The mandate system imposed its own legacy of division in scholarship as well as politics. The American biblical archaeologist W. F. Albright saw an underlying cultural unity and called his endeavor “Syro-Palestinian Archaeology.” Although British actions are the primary focus of the narrative, Melman concludes her chapter with a nuanced discussion of the influential, forward-looking, internationalist conference held in Jerusalem in 1943 under the auspices of the Jerusalem School of ASOR (American Schools of Oriental Research [in 2020 renamed the American Society of Overseas Research – ed.]).The second part begins with the important role of the Bible in British archaeology, which, combined with the modernization of travel, impacted “repertoires and practices of looking at landscapes and at antiquities and their representations” (71), leading to the popularization of “biblical tourism.” Melman accurately characterizes the British denigration of Ottoman rule, ignored or derided in both scholarly and popular literature. As in most historical discussions of archaeology in Palestine, Jerusalem receives her own chapter (93–124) followed by a surprising addition, a chapter on the British excavations of biblical Lachish. The Jerusalem discussion makes a seldom-emphasized connection between urban development planning and the preservation of a specific vision of antiquity. The discussion of property issues on the Ophel echoes current problems in the same area. The Lachish chapter provides an informative example of objects holding a central place, a very twenty-first century understanding of the agency of artifacts. She uses the murder of the British archaeologist Starkey as a framework to conclude with (what she judges to be) the failure of the British Mandate itself. This failure is assumed by Melman, but not defined or fully developed.Part III shifts to Mesopotamia with a focus on materiality as exemplified by the objects recovered from Ur. This leads into an excellent discussion of how the artifacts engendered a “Mesopotamian modernity” (189). “Its newness was not only a matter of aesthetics or style. It had a distinct political edge that collapsed the ancient imperial past and a modern connective empire embodied in the modern form of British presence in Mesopotamia/Iraq as a mandated power. Connectivity was hierarchical” (190). Unfortunately, the following chapter, focusing on the popular appeal of archaeology and utilizing the career and writings of Agatha Christie, is somewhat disruptive to the overall shape of the book's narrative and distracts from the connections of imperial pasts and present. One very pleasing section is the chapter on the archaeology of prehistory in the region, which concludes Part III. This is a story not widely known beyond a small circle of specialists in the discipline and the author's idea that prehistory “complicates” modernity is accurate.Part IV begins predictably and inevitably with King Tut; he was omnipresent in the 1920s, and is inescapable today. Melman accurately opines that the “Tut effect diminished interest in other sites of antiquities in Egypt and in the interwar relationship between Egyptian archaeology, travel, modernity, and internationalism” (250). Repeatedly in her narrative, Melman emphasizes the modernity and speed of 1920s railways and steamers. At least for Britons, “[a]rchaeology and archaeological travel were soon to be taken over by some of the interwar era's stellar popular middle-brow modernists. In their writing, Egypt and travel within the country came to stand for modern living, leisure, and style” (255). In her review of research funding, Melman opines that “[m]ost excavations, according to the rationale of the post-war regime of archaeology, were backed by institutions” (260). Although institutions appear as the surface drivers, oftentimes individual donors pulled the strings; in defense of Melman, this was more often true in American projects than British ones.Melman's discussion of the popular impact of Amarna and her analysis of the reasons for this produces the best chapter in her study. Her identification of themes that resonated with the imperial audience, imperial decline, urban culture and urban life, and the family life of the pharaoh, led to a plethora of Amarna-related objects in everyday British life. She comments: “Agency of objects mediated between antiquity and contemporaries but could also express individual tastes and choices: they were extensions, of sorts, of their owners and makers that reflected their status, habits and practices, and values” (294). Despite this excellent discourse, I was disappointed not to have been presented with at least a short discussion on the importance of Amarna objects as chronological anchors for eastern Mediterranean Bronze Age chronology.The last chapter is titled “The Road to Alexandria, the Paths to Siwa: Hellenism, the Modern World, and the End of Empires, 1915–1956.” Here Melman includes a discussion of classical-related interests, although she identifies the Empire of Alexander as the focus rather than the core classical heartlands. Here again, a discussion of British approaches to Cyprus would have been very helpful as a support for her argument: “By now, the central role of cities in the interwar culture of antiquity has become quite clear. The newly recovered urban material cultures were regarded as more than sites of imperial civilizations; their remains served to connect the ancient Near East to Western modernity. Greek and Roman urban history, previously part and parcel of the British urban and imperial imagination, was now attached to Britain's (and France's) new, post-war empires and associated with the mandates' post-war modernization projects” (317). She provides a very interesting insight into interwar attitudes when she notes, “Touring Alexandria was special not because of what was there to see, but because of what was invisible. By the outbreak of the First World War it could boast of very few physical remains of its Graeco-Roman past“ (327).Her use of the career and life of Gerald Lankester Harding to summarize her thesis is somewhat of a letdown. She notes “a paternalist attitude toward local men and women workers on excavation sites. Archaeologists offered their hired local employees medical services, entertainment in the form of organized recreation and sports, and employment. Their care was demonstrably paternalist—or maternalist: women archeologists like Olga Tufnell, who operated clinics on archaeological mounds like Tell al-Ajjul and Tell ed-Duweir/Lachish, sought to improve the health and culture of their local clients. Moreover, archaeological work itself came to be seen as a means for ameliorating the condition of locals and providing them with better lives and futures” (349). This comes across as a negative judgment from Melman, a judgment in keeping with the current postcolonial paradigm; but what would she have preferred? A blanket disregard for local workers' humanity and value?Despite these minor criticisms, this is an excellent study, filling a real gap in our understanding of the history of Near Eastern archaeology. This is a book to buy and read repeatedly.