This article examines the Qhapaq Ñan Project in Peru and its unprecedented mobilization of heritage policymaking to foster a participatory approach. The World Heritage listing of the Qhapaq Ñan, or Inca road system, catalyzed a new ethos in the Peruvian cultural heritage sector, reflected in a cohesive set of values and practices centered on community participation. This study analyzes the crafting of a participatory approach within Peruvian national heritage regulations despite legal, technical, and ideological constraints, following the rationales and processes that challenged traditional material-centered paradigms. It focuses on how heritage specialists reimagined their ethical commitments in conceptualizing and implementing this framework. It further demonstrates how participatory practices intersect with official regulations and informal practices within pre-existing technical and normative structures, integrating elements such as benefits, consultation, and collaboration. Therefore, the adoption of the Qhapaq Ñan’s participatory approach is argued not merely as a passive compliance with intergovernmental policy recommendations but as an active assertion of ethical perspectives and practices by heritage specialists.

The debates on the ownership of contested cultural objects bring forth questions regarding the representation of history. But might these debates also lead to the fabrication of history? Previous research has analyzed how the British Museum’s anti-restitution position contributes to its distortion of British (Museum) history. Instead, this article considers if – and, if so, how – history is distorted to argue for restitution. It examines the eulogized publication The Brutish Museums (2020) by Oxford professor Dan Hicks asking whether his claims regarding British mass atrocities in the conquest of Benin in 1897 can be substantiated by the documentary evidence. The investigation shows that this is not the case. The article also scrutinizes what the source material reveals about the death toll of the events of 1897. The results of the inquiry question oversimplified notions about culprits and victims in the wake of colonial conquest. It is argued that an incomplete understanding of the past impairs efforts to repair past wrongs and that questions about the ownership of colonial collections could productively be linked with questions about the representation of history, such as whose and which histories are told – or not – through contested objects.

During the Syrian war, many archaeological sites were subjected to systematic looting and destruction, often on a massive scale. Among the casualties of this looting is a colossal basalt statue of a lion that was located at the archaeological site of Ain Dara in northwest Syria. The lion of Ain Dara is a prominent local symbol and of great importance for the collective memory of northwest Syria, especially for the people of Wadi Afrin. Its disappearance will also have serious repercussions for the local economy as it was, in the past, an important tourist attraction. In this article, we investigate how the statue was stolen, why it was stolen, and where it is now. By using the lion statue of Ain Dara as a case study, we aim to shed more general light on the networks responsible for looting and trafficking Syrian antiquities, the factors that have enabled their growth during the conflict, and the role of civil society organizations in reducing their harmful impact on the cultural community of the Syrian people.

The so-called “Prakhon Chai Hoard” is one of Southeast Asia’s most infamous cases of looting. The story begins in 1964 when a cache of Buddhist bronzes from Northeast Thailand appeared on the international art market via the auction house Spink & Son, London. They quickly ended up in museums and private collections throughout the US and Europe. The exact findspot was unclear but soon became associated with an unidentified temple in Prakhon Chai district in Buriram province. The moniker “Prakhon Chai Hoard/bronzes” subsequently took hold, becoming commonplace in museum displays, dealer/auction house catalogs, and art historical discourse. However, in 2002, it was revealed the temple in question was Plai Bat II in Lahan Sai district.

This article untangles the many myths and misunderstandings surrounding this act of looting. It does so by reviewing the extant literature in light of information revealed by criminal investigations into the late Douglas Latchford from 2012 onwards, and presenting conclusions drawn from our decade-long documentation of villager testimonies at Plai Bat II (2014–2024).

The UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage is designed to secure the protection of intangible cultural heritage (ICH) worldwide.1 The Convention aims to safeguard and ensure respect for ICH of communities, groups, and persons and promote awareness of their significance and international protection in that regard.2 The Convention outlines intangible cultural heritage (ICH) in terms of oral traditions and expressions, including, but not limited to, epics, tales, and stories, and performing arts categories such as music, song, dance, puppetry, and theatre. Other forms of ICH under the Convention include social practices, rituals, and festive events. In its inherently nuanced nature, ICH also includes knowledge and practices relating to nature and the universe. In these categories are folk medicines, folk astronomy, and various natural phenomena. ICH’s wide and nuanced ambit encompasses traditional craftsmanship as well as the sites and spaces in which culturally significant activities and events occur.3 ICH forms part of the daily life and lived realities of people in virtually all parts of the world. It is the beliefs and perspectives, ephemeral performances, and events that are not tangible objects of culture, such as monuments or paintings. ICH is often described as the underlying “spirit” of a cultural group,4 which cannot be detailed in all subtleties.

This article examines how Indigenous Peoples who depend on World Heritage sites for their culture and livelihood can appeal to the Committee when State Parties fail to comply with their obligations. While scholars criticize the World Heritage Convention for the lack of participation of Indigenous Peoples, particularly in the inscription and management processes, the framework of the Convention also allows representation and visibility. Indeed, compliance mechanisms offer opportunities for Indigenous advocates to negotiate Land sovereignty and environmental protection. TWAIL, which places the worldview of Indigenous Peoples at the center of legal practice, is crucial to understanding the interactions between Indigenous Peoples and the 1972 UNESCO Convention. TWAILers highlight how international law historically denies sovereignty rights to Indigenous Peoples. Article 6(1) echoes this absence of sovereignty. This article examines three cases in which Indigenous advocates petition to protect Native Lands against environmental degradations and colonization: Kakadu, Wood Buffalo, and Uluru. Ultimately, the challenges of Indigenous activists in their quest to preserve nature and culture reveal that the absence of sovereignty prerogatives remains a substantial issue. While the Convention provides a venue for advocacy and international awareness, Indigenous Peoples still must negotiate Land autonomy and cultural sovereignty with the State.