The prompt is to discuss an issue of importance (I chose one at the international level) and its importance to you. Please let me know general impressions, suggestions in making it more concise/clear, organization, word choice, repetition of ideas, good things, bad things etc. I'm looking for ways to make it very powerful, but also want to cut it down a bit.
A mention of nuclear war or global warming often merits a wave of apocalyptic hysteria, rendering normally reasonable people too unintelligible to recognize even the simplest of solutions. Like a college student faced with a hefty paper just hours before the deadline, we tend to throw up our hands and declare the problem too unmanageable to be tackled, the situation too dire to be remedied. This defeatist attitude brings to mind the oft-quoted platitude, "every journey begins with a single step." Though the cliché grates, the message is appropriate. Repatriation, a possibility recently thrown onto the stage of international relations, holds promise as that initial step. Essentially a return of historical artifacts to their "rightful" countries, it's an exciting road towards international good will.
The need for repatriation stems from centuries of imperialism, where looting rulers often stripped their conquests of anything valuable. Newly independent nations, still smarting from years of oppression, often regard their old oppressors with suspicion, if not outright hostility. I recall the grimness in one older relative's voice as he lamented that the Vedas' remnants are studied not in India, home of the Hindus, but in Europe. I hear the same palpable disgust with British colonization of India in my father's voice, who often notes the Kohinoor Diamond as evidence of Britain's robbery of India's riches. This resentment isn't unwarranted, testifies Africa's poverty and India's poor infrastructure, but surely it isn't a permanent wound, doomed to forever gape open and ooze unpleasantly?
Recently, Japanese Prime Minister Kan Naoto returned several artifacts seized in Japan's 1910 conquest of Korea alongside a formal apology. The move didn't erase the resentment that surrounds Japan's annexation of Korea, but it enforced the Japanese's respect for Korea as a sovereign nation. With one stunningly simple act of repatriation, old balm was applied to an old wound.
To be sure, shipping off every museum display home to its original address is hardly plausible. A walk through the Metropolitan Museum in New York City would enlighten anyone who favors such sweeping action. By no means a panacea, repatriation seems likely only when foreign artifacts hold significant cultural importance and are publically owned, as the Naoto artifacts were. Draining every Western museum of its substance doesn't make sense. Nor can implications of legal ownership be ignored.
Yet consider this: wouldn't Greece be elated with Britain, should the Elgin marbles be restored to the Parthenon? I'm sure Americans wouldn't feel amiably towards any country who claims for keeps the original Declaration of Independence or Constitution. Obviously historical artifacts aren't just musty old heirlooms but objects of great sentimental and cultural value. Their exchange has, in the past, fired up patriotic spirit but their return shows promise to sooth frayed relations.
Though diplomacy is dominated by crisp suits and carefully chosen words, it's a surprisingly emotional art. Throw into the mix objects that are near to a nation's heart and a powerful tool presents itself to the willing diplomat. The issue is close to my heart as well: an enthusiastic History student, I'm refreshed to see my favored subject used for such noble purposes. Unfortunately, history is often relegated to the shelf of useless information by those who think only the erudite could appreciate it. Yet repatriation uses history as a weapon of practicality, turning the past on its head with modern reconciliations. With so many problems plaguing the world, this is a simple, easy gesture that can make a world of difference. While legal and bureaucratic obstacles will present themselves, as they invariably do, repatriation should still be considered when viable. To dismiss it as too inconsequential a solution is akin to refusing to dress an open wound because no surgeon is available. To repeat another irritating banality: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Repatriation, a minute yet simple opportunity, should be seized upon like the juiciest of lemons.
A mention of nuclear war or global warming often merits a wave of apocalyptic hysteria, rendering normally reasonable people too unintelligible to recognize even the simplest of solutions. Like a college student faced with a hefty paper just hours before the deadline, we tend to throw up our hands and declare the problem too unmanageable to be tackled, the situation too dire to be remedied. This defeatist attitude brings to mind the oft-quoted platitude, "every journey begins with a single step." Though the cliché grates, the message is appropriate. Repatriation, a possibility recently thrown onto the stage of international relations, holds promise as that initial step. Essentially a return of historical artifacts to their "rightful" countries, it's an exciting road towards international good will.
The need for repatriation stems from centuries of imperialism, where looting rulers often stripped their conquests of anything valuable. Newly independent nations, still smarting from years of oppression, often regard their old oppressors with suspicion, if not outright hostility. I recall the grimness in one older relative's voice as he lamented that the Vedas' remnants are studied not in India, home of the Hindus, but in Europe. I hear the same palpable disgust with British colonization of India in my father's voice, who often notes the Kohinoor Diamond as evidence of Britain's robbery of India's riches. This resentment isn't unwarranted, testifies Africa's poverty and India's poor infrastructure, but surely it isn't a permanent wound, doomed to forever gape open and ooze unpleasantly?
Recently, Japanese Prime Minister Kan Naoto returned several artifacts seized in Japan's 1910 conquest of Korea alongside a formal apology. The move didn't erase the resentment that surrounds Japan's annexation of Korea, but it enforced the Japanese's respect for Korea as a sovereign nation. With one stunningly simple act of repatriation, old balm was applied to an old wound.
To be sure, shipping off every museum display home to its original address is hardly plausible. A walk through the Metropolitan Museum in New York City would enlighten anyone who favors such sweeping action. By no means a panacea, repatriation seems likely only when foreign artifacts hold significant cultural importance and are publically owned, as the Naoto artifacts were. Draining every Western museum of its substance doesn't make sense. Nor can implications of legal ownership be ignored.
Yet consider this: wouldn't Greece be elated with Britain, should the Elgin marbles be restored to the Parthenon? I'm sure Americans wouldn't feel amiably towards any country who claims for keeps the original Declaration of Independence or Constitution. Obviously historical artifacts aren't just musty old heirlooms but objects of great sentimental and cultural value. Their exchange has, in the past, fired up patriotic spirit but their return shows promise to sooth frayed relations.
Though diplomacy is dominated by crisp suits and carefully chosen words, it's a surprisingly emotional art. Throw into the mix objects that are near to a nation's heart and a powerful tool presents itself to the willing diplomat. The issue is close to my heart as well: an enthusiastic History student, I'm refreshed to see my favored subject used for such noble purposes. Unfortunately, history is often relegated to the shelf of useless information by those who think only the erudite could appreciate it. Yet repatriation uses history as a weapon of practicality, turning the past on its head with modern reconciliations. With so many problems plaguing the world, this is a simple, easy gesture that can make a world of difference. While legal and bureaucratic obstacles will present themselves, as they invariably do, repatriation should still be considered when viable. To dismiss it as too inconsequential a solution is akin to refusing to dress an open wound because no surgeon is available. To repeat another irritating banality: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Repatriation, a minute yet simple opportunity, should be seized upon like the juiciest of lemons.