Restitution as a state resource: France's new restitution law

María Ruigomez-Eraso

June 2026

Restitution is a polysemous word; when invoked, it appears to operate across several conceptual domains and scopes. Most positions assume that parties involved in restitution debates wish to possess the contested objects. The intellectual camps then diverge between cultural nationalists and cultural internationalists, a division proposed by John Henry Merryman in 1986. Cultural nationalists seek to return contested objects to the states or communities of origin. Cultural internationalists, in turn, reject the return of contested objects by claiming international heritage (Merryman, 1986). This distinction has spurred intense debate and given rise to a significant body of knowledge (and activism). Most authors are concerned with formulating arguments for and against restitution, devising the most successful strategies for return, and collecting a substantive body of evidence (provenance information). 

But by assuming a universal urge to possess, we might be neglecting an interesting group of case studies: those in which states seek to let go of objects because it benefits them. Why are states interested in giving? Could it be that that they gain politically, socially or economically from restitution acts?  

This question seems almost rhetorical, the answer appears simple (yes, most likely). I believe that we should pay closer attention to this dynamic, as it might help broaden our conceptual understanding of restitution. There is not only a value in keeping; there also is a value in letting go.     

This idea has been already partially advanced by some scholars, most importantly by Jelena Subótic in The Art of Status: Looted Treasures and the Global Politics of Restitution (2025). Subótic argues that objects which once served as markers of international prestige for states (status) now instead serve as reminders of implication in historical crimes. According to her, these objects now taint states’ international status. Engaging in restitutions can help states undo that reputational damage.  

This direction of enquiry appears particularly relevant considering recent legislative advancements of European countries to facilitate restitution. The most recent one is France’s adoption of a law ‘on the return of cultural property unlawfully appropriated’ (LOI n° 2026-351 du 9 mai 2026 relatif à la restitution de biens culturels ayant fait l'objet d'une appropriation illicite).  Before this law was passed, each French restitution case had to be decided on individually. To make the ownership transfer legally binding, France passed bills tailored to the specific objects to be restituted. As an example, in late 2020 France passed a bill to enable the restitution of (1) twenty-six objects from the royal treasury of Abomey to the Republic of Benin, and (2) the sabre of El Hadj Omar Tall to Senegal. 

The newly enacted law streamlines restitution. France has now a legislative framework in place which allows for faster and more efficient devolution procedures. The main advantage is that the law allows for French governments to authorise restitutions through executive decree, without needing a parliamentary vote. The law, which Macron has been working towards since his 2017 speech at the University of Ouagadougou, represents a political victory for his presidency. 

The international public has reacted positively to the news of this law. As Laurence Caramel wrote for Le Monde on the eight of May this year, “[a] new chapter has now begun, with France becoming the first European country to enact a universal law amending its cultural heritage code to provide for the restitution of items that were illicitly incorporated into national collections.” Catherine Porter wrote for the New York Times on May 7th that “[e]xperts say that the new law, if slow in coming, is a game changer for France’s former colonies looking to regain their cultural property, and that it reflects a seismic shift in how France thinks about its colonial history.”  

But a closer analysis of the law’s text reveals its limits in scope. Gradually, criticism on the wording and the content has emerged from outside of France. As Dr Kwame Opoku wrote on the 18th of June for ModernGhana, a first point of criticism is that the law does not mention the words ‘colonisation’ or ‘Africa’ in its title. He asserts that this represents a lack of serious engagement with the harm done by French colonial rule. Furthermore, he argues that the law presents restitution as an “act of French benevolence.” Beyond this, the law is constrained in its temporal scope: only lootings which occurred between the 20th of November of 1815 (Second Treaty of Paris) and the 23rd of April of 1972 qualify for a possible devolution. This, on the one hand, excludes all Napoleonic lootings from European countries that to this day remain in French national collections (an issue which, he asserts, France does not wish to revisit). 

 At the same time, it excludes all Napoleonic lootings of African artefacts, e.g. pre-1815 Egyptian seizures. The first French colonial empire is entirely omitted by the law. Dr Kwame Opoku raises additional concerns including the fact that certain objects are exempt from the restitution process, and that claims must be brought to French court by states (instead of, e.g. communities). The law foresees bilateral, scientific consultations which will inform restitution decisions. In relation to these, Dr Kwame Opoku raises important questions on the participatory access of African experts: “Who will be the experts (‘scientifiques’) and what will be their qualifications? [...] Who will pay their fees and other expenses for the stay in Paris? Will the experts, especially if Africans, be granted visa for Paris?” 

With its many conditions and restrictions, it seems difficult to avoid the impression that the law is politically convenient. France has already won much by simply passing this restitution law: international prestige, political legitimacy, and a newly created potential for relationships. It remains to be seen how the law is implemented in practice

References 

Caramel, Laurence. 2026. “ France passes law on the restitution of cultural artifacts looted during colonial rule.” Le Monde, May 8. 

Merryman, John Henry. 1986. “Two Ways of Thinking about Cultural Property.” American Journal of International Law 80 (4): 831-53. https:// doi.org/10.2307/2202065   

Opoku, Kwame. 2026. “ Forwards and backwards: France adopts new law on restitution of looted artefact.” ModernGhana, June 18. 

Porter, Catherine. 2026. “ France passes law easing process of returning looted art.” The New York Times, May 7. 

Présidence de la République. 2020. “ Conseil des ministres du 15 juillet 2020.” Élysée, July 15. 

République Française. 2026. LOI n° 2026-351 du 9 mai 2026 relatif à la restitution de biens culturels ayant fait l'objet d'une appropriation illicite. Journal Officiel de la République Française, nº 0109.  

Subotić, Jelena. 2025. The Art of Status: Looted Treasures and the Global Politics of Restitution. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 

Bio 

María is a PhD candidate in Archaeology at the University of Cambridge, specialising in heritage studies, memory politics, and restitution debates. Her doctoral thesis will examine how state actors make use of heritage restitutions to actively recontextualise contested historical figures and reshape national discourses. Through this project, she aims to contribute to a deeper understanding of why state actors engage in restitutions. Her OOC AHRC DTP studentship is co-funded by Jesus College. María received her MA in Cultural Heritage Studies from Central European University (Vienna) in 2024. Alongside her academic studies, she has gained practical experience as a staff member of the restitution department at Christie's, and the international department at the Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden, as well as a researcher on European cultural policies at KEA European Affairs. María is originally from Bilbao, Spain, and speaks Spanish, German, English and French.