How can we ensure the conservation and reconstruction of cultural heritage sites during periods of conflict? Photo credit: Museums Victoria via Unsplash
When art historians or archaeologists fall asleep at night, their worst nightmares might appear in the form of the peeling of paint, or the crumbling of cultural artefacts; perhaps the fading smile of da Vinci’s famous 500-year-old Mona Lisa or the growing cracks in the clay soldiers of China’s Qin Dynasty Terracotta Army. Thankfully, the efforts of conservators—and the implementation of modern scientific technologies—have gone to great lengths to restore and protect these priceless pieces of history. Works such as da Vinci’s masterpiece, for example, are placed in temperature- and humidity-controlled, bulletproof glass cases; the gloved hands of countless chemists, archaeological scientists, and researchers have meticulously studied, re-painted, glossed, and glued its pieces back together for centuries. For the Terracotta Army, as new excavations uncover never-before-seen parts of the site, their figurines are immediately bombarded with an array of chemical treatments to prevent (or at least delay) further deterioration.
Thankfully, the efforts of conservators—and the implementation of modern scientific technologies—have gone to great lengths to restore and protect these priceless pieces of history.
Altogether, millions of pounds, cutting-edge technologies, and the brightest scientific minds are working to protect and preserve museums’ most valuable objects, such as at the British Museum, the National Gallery, or the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Through these endeavours, we may continue to learn about our past and share the wonder and knowledge of archaeological heritage with future generations. Still, chipped paint and cracks seem minuscule compared to an even greater challenge to the preservation of global heritage faces: warfare.
Conservation studio at the National Gallery of Ireland.
Two battlegrounds: In conflict and in collective memory
In times of war and mass violence, the loss of human life must be the primary concern; nonetheless, the destruction of cultural heritage remains a sinister threat, particularly as we look to the past to understand (or manipulate) modern political environments, histories, and peoples. Scholars such as Raphael Lemkin use the term “cultural genocide” to distinctly highlight the important targeting of “cultural” artefacts such as books, artworks, and architecture in events of mass violence. In Lemkin’s influential book from 1944, he coins the term genocide and includes with it the aim of destroying not only a group of people, but also that group’s institutions, languages, religions, economies, and culture. Similarly, renowned Pakistani political activist and scholar Eqbal Ahmad often spoke of the importance of memory, history, and the preservation of cultural heritage in anti-colonial efforts, particularly in combatting the erasure of identities and peoples.
the destruction of cultural heritage remains a sinister threat…
In Viet Thanh Nguyen’s Nothing Ever Dies, he states, ‘all wars are fought twice, the first time on the battlefield, the second time in memory’. Thus, if archaeology is the construction of collective memory of the past, the destruction of cultural heritage is yet another battleground for memory. Organisations such as UNESCO, Heritage for Peace, and Human Rights Watch report on the massive loss of cultural heritage as the result of recent armed conflict—for example, 69 religious, historical, or archaeological sites and museums have been damaged or destroyed in Gaza as of September 2024, such as Gaza’s oldest mosque from the 5th century, the Omari Mosque, which was hit by Israeli airstrikes December 2023; and 457 of such sites have suffered the same fate in Ukraine as of October 2024. Regarding a newly-excavated, nearly ‘complete’ cemetery in Gaza dating to the Roman period approximately 2,000 years ago, Fadel Al-A’utul of the French School of Biblical and Archeological Research, stated, ‘we need funds to preserve this archaeological site so that history does not get washed away’—this site was later listed among the other harmed heritage in UNESCO’s damage assessment report. Additionally, there is a long, documented assessment of the ‘deliberate targeting of heritage sites as part of a broader strategy towards local communities in Syria and Iraq’ by ISIS, fitting within their terroristic attacks on community and collective memory.
Thus, if archaeology is the construction of collective memory of the past, the destruction of cultural heritage is yet another battleground for memory.
So, what can archaeologists do to fight this cause?
One of the Bamiyan Buddhas, before and after destruction.
In 2001, the Taliban demolished two Buddha sculptures in Afghanistan. These monumental statues were carved in relief on the sandstone cliffside of the Bamiyan Valley (hence their nickname, the ‘Bamiyan Buddhas’) and remained remarkably intact for more than 1,000 years before their intentional destruction.
Laser projection of Bamiyan Buddha.
Several proposals were made concerning the proper response to the destroyed statues. In 2015, 3D imaging technology was implemented on-site to virtually restore the monument to its previous state, if only temporarily. Additionally, other efforts went into the digital restoration of the Buddhas: for example, using pre-existing photographs, often from tourists who had taken pictures of the Buddhas prior to 2001, to create 3D reconstructions of the statues. This process, known as photogrammetry, interprets photographic data in terms of optical and physical properties to map and measure physical objects—in more simple terms, it utilises hundreds or thousands of 2D images of 3D objects and algorithmically combines them to create a virtual model.
3D model being rendered via photogrammetry.
Additionally, following the destruction of the two large Buddha sculptures in 2001, a team of archaeologists and scientists worked to digitally conserve the nearby Buddha statue, sometimes referred to as the “Small Buddha” in Bamiyan. In this case, laser scanning technology was applied pre-emptively to this -at-risk monument of cultural heritage, taking scans of the statue at several different angles and positions to generate thousands of 2D images for post-processing overlap and, thus, digital reconstruction in 3D. For this large sculpture, digital reconstruction provides a safety net for a piece of cultural heritage that is too large to be moved and remains in danger in an area of continued conflict. Even more, the creation of a 3D model opens a world of opportunities for remote study and engagement of the monument, such as in the Cave Automatic Virtual Environment (CAVE) which provides an immersive virtual visualisation using the laser-scanned images.
In the same vein, an ongoing project called Rekrei (formerly Project Mosul) works to collect photographs of endangered monuments and artefacts to create 3D reconstructions and a larger database for shared heritage. The project was initially created in response to the destruction of the Mosul Cultural Museum in Iraq in 2015 in the hopes of creating a ‘virtual museum’ and a ‘way to digitally preserve its memory.’ Now, it uses publicly available data—such as tourist photos and those from the internet—in conjunction with advanced imaging techniques to ‘preserve the memory of lost cultural heritage through the means of digital restoration’ across the globe. For example, Rekrei used existing photographs to virtually reconstruct a lion statue from Mesopotamia that was destroyed following ISIS’ attack on the Mosul Museum.
3D reconstruction of a lion from Mosul.
Other scholars at the Arab American University in Palestine have been working to digitally preserve Palestinian heritage which is ‘continually threatened and distorted’ as their globally-recognised historic sites are not only threatened by insufficient protective measures for these sites against erosion over time, but also Israel’s ongoing military operations. Another organisation, OpenVL, responds to this urgent need for 3D preservation in Palestine, bringing researchers, laser scanners, and drones to endangered sites.
In Ukraine, many organisations are working tirelessly to conserve cultural heritage. 4CH, or the European Competence Centre on the Conservation of Cultural Heritage, launched its Save the Ukraine Monument (SUM) initiative with international scientists and institutions to digitally conserve and store Ukrainian heritage such as texts, images, and 3D models. As this is an active warzone, the SUM initiative also collaborates with other organisations in the European Union, such as the Italian National Institute of Nuclear Physics, to safeguard the digital data abroad—so far, more than 100 terabytes of digital Ukrainian cultural heritage are stored, the equivalent of approximately 25,000 films.
‘Backup Ukraine’ similarly works to document and store Ukrainian heritage, only its scanning technology is as simple as a popular smart phone application: Polycam. ‘Backup Ukraine lets anyone become an archivist. You can scan buildings and monuments as full 3D models using just your phone. And store them in an open, secure online archive — where no bombs can reach.’
Another Ukrainian initiative looks to the future, imagining the role of heritage and conservation beyond the ongoing conflict. A team of scientists, called Skeiron, has responded to the urgent need for heritage documentation amid Russian invasions, stating their aim of capturing the ‘monument in detail in space and time’ in the hopes of post-conflict reconstruction: ‘The digital format will enable you to save information about literally every element: its color, size, texture. We convert all this data into a 3D model. This information becomes the basis for the reconstruction or restoration of the monument.’ Now, the archive has over 100 models (which are also easily accessible online) from data collected via laser scanners, drones, and remote surveys. With this looking-toward-a-brighter-future approach and the involvement of peoples living under current occupation in ‘Backup Ukraine’, digitisation of heritage is not just creating an archive, but also acts as a positive, community-building exercise that may further aid those suffering under military conflict.
In addition to photogrammetry and laser scanning, other digital tools show promise for preserving endangered archaeology. Remote and satellite sensing, although currently lack resolution for fine detailed reconstructions of archaeological sites, have been used to identify, assess damage, and document archaeological heritage from a bird’s eye point of view. More importantly, these methods are, as the name suggests, ‘remote,’ meaning they can reach places unreachable by outside scientists, such as in places of current armed conflict. For example, satellite imagery has been able to track damage to cultural heritage in Syria remotely.
Still, even the most advanced technologies cannot physically protect invaluable tangible heritage.
Still, even the most advanced technologies cannot physically protect invaluable tangible heritage. Even where digitisation can document endangered heritage, these virtual versions are still at risk—as we are reminded by the remote storage concerns of 4CH and ‘Backup Ukraine’—and irreparable damage has been done to communities and ‘living’ heritage, no matter the 3D reconstructions of sites. Nonetheless, as the fight against the erasure of culture and our shared histories also takes place in the arena of public knowledge and awareness, archaeologists, scientists, and other stakeholders can equip themselves with digital technologies to preserve any artefacts and histories we can digitally, and in our memory.
