The return of the Djidji Ayokwe—the "talking drum" of the Ebrié people—from France to Ivory Coast is being hailed as a moral victory. It is framed as a long-overdue correction of colonial-era looting. The media is feeding you a feel-good narrative about "cultural healing" and "justice."
They are wrong. If you enjoyed this post, you should look at: this related article.
This isn't justice. It’s a sophisticated form of geopolitical theater that allows Western institutions to offload their guilt while ignoring the actual, crumbling infrastructure of the global arts economy. We are obsessed with the where of an object, rather than the how of its survival. By focusing entirely on restitution, we are participating in a shallow performance that does nothing to protect these artifacts for the next millennium.
The Myth of the "Rightful" Owner
When we talk about returning artifacts, we rely on the shaky premise that modern nation-states are the direct, seamless heirs to the ethnic or tribal entities of 150 years ago. Ivory Coast, as a political entity, didn't exist when the Djidji Ayokwe was taken in 1916. For another perspective on this development, refer to the latest coverage from NPR.
I’ve spent twenty years in the backrooms of auction houses and ethnographic museums. I have seen what happens when "restitution" meets real-world politics. Often, an object is returned to a central government that the original creators' descendants don't even trust. We are taking objects from high-security, climate-controlled environments in Paris or London and handing them over to ministries that might be gone after the next election.
Is an artifact "saved" if it sits in a humid, underfunded basement in Abidjan instead of a gallery in the Quai Branly? If you care about the object, the answer is no. If you care about the optics, the answer is yes. We are sacrificing preservation on the altar of political correctness.
The Museum as a Life Raft
The "lazy consensus" says that Western museums are "tomb raiders." The truth is more uncomfortable: many of these objects only exist today because they were in those museums.
Imagine a scenario where the Djidji Ayokwe stayed in a village during the mid-20th-century upheavals, through civil wars, through shifts in religious practice that saw "pagan" artifacts burned by converts. It likely would have rotted or been destroyed.
The Western museum acted as a vault. Yes, the vault was built on theft. Yes, the acquisition was violent. But the result is the physical survival of the piece. To ignore this utility is to be intellectually dishonest.
- Preservation Costs: Keeping a wooden artifact from 1916 from disintegrating costs thousands of dollars a year in climate control and pest management.
- Access vs. Ownership: In the digital age, do you need to stand in front of the drum to study it? Or do you need a high-resolution 3D scan available to every researcher in the world?
- The Debt of Care: Who pays for the maintenance once the drum lands in Africa? Usually, the very same Western NGOs that the "anti-colonial" crowd claims to despise.
The Great Diversion
Restitution is a cheap way for Europe to avoid talking about trade imbalances, immigration policy, or modern economic extraction.
It is much easier for Emmanuel Macron to return a drum than it is to address the CFA franc or the predatory lending practices of European banks. By handing back a few crates of statues, European leaders buy themselves "progressive" cover. It’s a PR stunt that costs them nothing but gains them massive diplomatic leverage in the African Union.
We are watching a shell game. We focus on the "looted" past so we don't have to look at the "looted" present.
The Case for the Universal Museum
The most radical idea in the art world today is the one nobody wants to defend: the Universal Museum. The idea that certain objects belong to humanity, not to a specific GPS coordinate.
When you move an object back to its place of origin, you are tribalizing culture. You are saying that only Ivorians should have easy access to Ivorian history. This is a retreat into nationalism. The British Museum and the Louvre—for all their sins—provide a context where a visitor can see the interconnectedness of human development.
If we strip these museums of their global collections, we don't end up with a more "just" world. We end up with a world of isolated silos where people only engage with their own narrow heritage.
The Logistics of Ruin
Let’s talk about the "People Also Ask" obsession: "When will the British Museum return the Benin Bronzes?"
The honest, brutal answer is: when they can be sure the objects won't immediately hit the black market.
I’ve seen "restituted" items disappear within six months. They are sold by corrupt officials to private collectors in Miami or Dubai. In those cases, the object has moved from a public museum (where anyone could see it) to a private living room (where only a billionaire can see it).
How is that a win for the people of the source country?
- Security: Many national museums in developing nations lack basic alarm systems.
- Corruption: The "rightful owners" are rarely the ones who end up with the keys to the display case.
- Stability: Long-term conservation requires decades of political peace.
Stop Asking for the Drum Back
Instead of demanding the physical return of every splinter of wood, we should be demanding Digital Sovereignty and Revenue Sharing.
If the Quai Branly makes money from visitors viewing the Djidji Ayokwe, a percentage of that ticket sale should go directly into a trust fund for Ivorian art students. If a French museum holds the physical object, the Ivorian government should hold the exclusive legal right to its digital likeness, 3D prints, and commercial reproductions.
That is real power. That is actual wealth transfer.
Physical restitution is a 19th-century solution to a 21st-century problem. It’s clunky, it’s dangerous for the artifacts, and it serves the egos of politicians more than the needs of the people.
Stop falling for the feel-good headline. The return of the drum isn't the end of colonialism; it's just the latest chapter in Europe’s long history of managing its image at Africa’s expense.
If you want to support African culture, stop obsessing over where the old stuff is and start investing in where the new stuff is going.
The drum is just wood and skin. The real value was always in the hands that played it—and those hands are still being ignored while we argue over a museum display.
Stop cheering for the "homecoming" and start looking at who is actually holding the bill.
