Steering Committee Report on Human Remains in University Museum Collections | Fall 2022
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I started working on repatriation
issues shortly after the 1990 passage
of the Native American Graves
Protection and Repatriation Act
(NAGPRA). My role has mostly been
on oversight boards and policy-
formation task forces, critical but
unglamorous work with institutions
such as the Denver Art Museum,
Colorado Historical Society, University
of Michigan Museum, Smithsonian
National Museum of the American
Indian, and most recently, the Harvard
Peabody Museum. Over that time, I’ve
come to understand a few things.
First, NAGPRA has undeniably
been burdened by complicated
administrative procedures. But while
that proceduralism can feel like a
barrier created intentionally, it also
has productive dimensions. Good
procedure requires precision and
focus, and that means paying close
attention to human remains, traveling
goods, cultural patrimony, and sacred
things that might otherwise function
as abstract numbers in a catalogue.
Focus means care, and over time a
careful administrative approach to
those catalogue entries transforms
deliberate speed into a form of
respect. Repatriation work can literally
shape one’s humanity, forging humility
in the process. At the same time,
the administrative labors required
by NAGPRA demanded that Native
tribal nations develop expertise and
capacity that has served them well.
Along with humility, then, one finds in
this work a sense of tribal confidence,
courage, and pride. Museums have
also developed new capacities, and
the consultations that have followed
created opportunities for tribal-
institutional partnerships. Indeed, an
institution that has not done well with
NAGPRA cannot successfully engage
tribal nations. That is as it should be
and serves as a lesson for relationships
with other communities.
Second, an institution in possession
of human remains must engage its
own history, explain its collections
and collecting, and ask dicult but
ultimately productive questions about
how those people ended up in boxes
on shelves. We question, debate,
condemn, and sometimes absolve
our predecessors, realizing that while
we may not be responsible for their
history, we are very much responsible
to it. History is not inert; it demands
action. Third, such action is required
because repatriation poses questions
of ethics, values, and morality that cut
to the heart and soul of an institution—
as an entity in and of itself—and of we
the people who constitute it. There are
the obvious questions, which tend to
stem from the history. Who has a right
to the bodies of the dead? For what
purposes? Under what conditions?
What wrongs come down to us? With
what obligation for repair? But there
are also the less obvious ones, often
generated out of the proceduralism. To
whom exactly should one repatriate?
Determined how? And what to do
about the gaps, uncertainties, and
ambiguities that arise when the
questions stop being abstract? Tribal
nationhood has oered a politically
grounded community for working
through such questions. With no
equivalent community at hand for
the remains of African American
and African-descended people in the
Peabody Museum, such questions take
on an additional layer of complexity.
To what extent should Harvard lead?
Should it help constitute a community?
How, and with whom?
Finally, I have now seen enough
repatriation—including the psychic
challenges to those working in the
trenches and the transcendent power
of moments of physical return—to
have a felt understanding of the
spiritual dimensions of these labors.
Human remains are not simply
Learning from NAGPRA
Essay by Philip Deloria, Leverett Saltonstall Professor of History
“We question, debate,
condemn, and sometimes
absolve our predecessors,
realizing that while we may
not be responsible for their
history, we are very
much responsible to it.
History is not inert;
it demands action.”