Studying the Dead

Unearthing burials and human remains has long been one of the most important and popular parts of archaeological study.

Not only are they rich in useful information about the past, but also haunting kinds of discoveries that draw crowds of both researchers and the public who want to hear their spellbinding stories. They put us in touch with the dead and make them real.

The discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamun in 1922, for example, became an international sensation. The story of “King Tut” and the exquisite objects he was buried with suddenly permeated pop culture after more than 3000 years in total darkness, appearing in trendy magazines and on fabrics and furniture. Even the earliest archaeologists saw the academic appeal in investigating burials. Some 150 years before Howard Carter, Thomas Jefferson - also known as the third president of the United States - dabbled in Archaeology on his estate in Virgina and was, perhaps not surprisingly, particularly interested in uncovering Native American burial mounds.

More recently, Egyptian archaeologists were ecstatic to discover another untouched and beautifully elaborate ancient Egyptian tomb belonging to a royal priest, an exciting investigation that also became a gorgeously cinematic Netflix documentary. The fascination, it seems, continues: lifting the lid on an ancient coffin that was never meant to be opened again is difficult to resist for us all.

An unfortunate thing about physically investigating sacred spaces and removing artefacts and human remains from them, however, is that excavation is destructive and can never be reversed. Digging destroys sites as much as it reveals them. It’s sadly not possibly to look but not touch. Once unearthed, discoveries are usually taken to an appropriate facility to be preserved (only in some special cases are they reburied).

Because of this factor, sites that are considered sacred and sites containing human remains should be treated with sensitivity and any investigation carefully considered. Plans should be made with regards to what happens next, should excavation go ahead.

Sometimes, human remains end up on display. I remember coming across an exhibit in a Western museum - let’s just say it was one of the big ones - which displayed the remains of a man who had been buried in the Egyptian desert thousands of years ago.

Because of the dryness in the sand, he was really well-preserved. Not an anonymous and clean skull, then, but one still covered with skin tissue. I admit that my initial thought was not concern over how this person, another human being who would have known how important burial ritual was (something we believe today, too), was displayed in an air-tight glass container so that he could be gawked at by strangers from the future.

It probably would have seemed really alien and strange to him. He was an exhibit, rather than somebody who was given proper rest, away from the public eye. But this did not occur to me at all at the time. I probably thought that the display was really cool. On reflection, maybe this could be considered a questionable choice in conduct. What responsibilities do we have - if any - to the deceased whose burials are sources of information on past worlds? Are there appropriate ways to study the dead? Or should we not even touch human remains?

A Capsule of Horror

A piece of recent news that perfectly illustrates the ethical dilemmas that come with investigating human remains is the stomach-turning discovery of the Winterberg Tunnel outside Reims, France.

In 1917, the entrance and exit points of the tunnel, which was used to store German supplies, were bombed and blocked by French aerial troops. Over 270 German men slowly died as oxygen gradually ran out.

It has long been known that the tunnel exists, but the authorities have been reserved about finding its exact location, perhaps because the soldiers inside were not French, and because unearthing their bodies would mean facing the difficult decision about what to do with them. Can the Winterberg Tunnel and the fates of the German soldiers be respectfully studied, or should we leave them be?

Now that an amateur historian has identified the exact location, and the story been reported on to the public, these questions have arisen and are in need of answers.

Opening the tunnel and identifying the dead would be possible with input from living relatives. The site could also be opened to scientific investigation so that we can learn more about those six horrid days and the overall conditions of First World War soldiers. Leaving them there - far from home, still in the terrible place they died - could also be considered gruesome. There are very different ways to go about the Winterberg Tunnel, and none of them seem entirely right. The situation makes stomachs turn and there will be many perspectives to consider, not least those of the descendants of the soldiers buried.

There are similar examples from the past that provide some pointers. Sites that mark great tragedy are sometimes protected by the law. In Sweden, for instance, the gravfrid law protects the wreck of MS Estonia, a cruiseferry that sank in the Baltic in 1994 and claimed more than 800 lives. Entering the parameters of the site and disturbing the ship by any means is an offense on the account that the victims deserve precisely gravfrid - the peace of the grave.

Native Americans, whose ancestors bones have been dug up without permission and displayed in museums against their well, have with the help of new laws been able to rebury ancestral human remains in an effort to prioritise dignity and spiritual beliefs over Western-focused scientific advancements.

In the case of the Winterberg Tunnel, looters have sadly already taken to the site, showing that it needs protection by the authorities.

On the other side of things remains the undeniable truth that information will be lost forever to the past. Archaeologists’ reasons for not always desiring reburial or leaving remains in the ground are not necessarily for greedy reasons or due to a lack of respect: the information we get, many of them argue, from investigating human remains could tell us about those who almost never appear in written sources, such as the non-elite and women and children. Their bones may be the only way we can reach their personal stories - and the good that more diverse knowledge of different members of society then will do for society today.

I would not know how to provide an answer to the dilemma of the tunnel in this blogpost. I do think, however, that the discussion alone around the tunnel could be very useful for archaeologists for different reasons. It poses lots of interesting questions around the profession and the way we deal with human remains, recent and ancient.

The (rightful) wariness around the Winterberg Tunnel does not exist in the same way around prehistoric burials and human remains, showing how desensitized we get around them the older they are. Nobody in their right mind would suggest that the Winterberg survivors go on display. But why are prehistoric remains any different? That we seem to adjust our ethical conduct by time seems to be the obvious answer - but is time reason enough to disconnect us from the responsibility that we have towards our fellow human beings in ensuring that their death always remains dignified, and not a spectacle? It’s an interesting question to ask.

I personally do not think it is always unethical to investigate sacred spaces or places of human tragedy, but those excavations should be led by those with strong genetic and cultural connection to them. If the Winterberg Tunnel is opened for investigation, as looters may soon force the authorities to do, there is no question that the only appropriate thing to do afterwards will be to return the remains to Germany. The intangible lives of the soldiers could presented museums or otherwise - showing their posessesions and telling their stories publicly for the sake of remembering them for the humans they were - even though they would come to be on the wrong side of history.

I think we should start thinking like this about prehistoric remains, too. Sometimes, we can investigate them and learn about them, treating them gently and respectfully. But perhaps we should not put them behind glass as if they were some spectacular scientific curiosities.

I would see it as an act of human kindness that acknowledges everybody’s right to dignity after death - regardless of how many years there are between us and them.