Sophocles' Antigone and its relation with ethics and cultural heritage

As a student, everything in life seems perpetually connected to whatever you are learning about in your classes. Well, if your class is on ethics and cultural heritage, this connection seems to happen even more often, something that I welcome. Which brings me to the point: this week, the introduction to Greek Civilization seminar was on Sophocles' Antigone. In the play, Creon (the ruler of Thebes) forbids the body of Polyneices to be buried, the harshest punishment at that time. His sister, Antigone, defies Creon's orders and decides to give her brother the honour of a proper burial, as he deserves. The story of course would not be a a tragedy unless most of the characters died, and so in true tragic fashion, Antigone commits suicide. Upon being discovered by her fiancé (Creon's son, no less!) he too, commits suicide, and his mother (Creon's wife), kills herself as well due to his suicide. That's the story in a nutshell, but you might be wondering, how is any of this relevant to cultural heritage or archaeological ethics?

Well, the entire tragedy and story centers around a burial, and burial customs. While to the modern reader (such as my 30-some students) Antigone's actions in risking her life in order to bury her (already dead) brother may seem extreme, when put in the context of what a proper burial meant in the 4th century BCE and in myths (think of Hector of Troy!) the relevance of the story changes. The Antigone displays the importance that burial rituals and beliefs of the afterlife can have in a society, which can be compared to those of the Native Americans, begging the questions of who has the right to decide what happens to the deceased, and why should they have this power? Creon clearly thinks it is his right to dictate Polyneices' punishment but does not consider his remaining family members. Today, we are faced with different scenarios which ask the same questions. Who should decide what happens to exhumed remains, and why should they be the ones to do so? 

Thanks to the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, or NAGPRA, remains which can be identified as Native American technically belong to anyone who can prove that they are a descendent or some sort of close lineal relationship. This extends from specific people to entire tribes, and even organizations.
Logically, it seems right that descendants should have control over the remains of their ancestors, but when does this control go too far? Can a family of English descent claim the remains of a colonial settler, just because their ancestors and the deceased hailed from the same town? 


The problem (and relief) of the real world is that our actions affecting others rarely impact us in the way that they would in a tragedy. For instance, Creon's decisions and his arrogance prove fatal to those around him, not just his opponent, Antigone, but his own loved ones. But if in the early 20th century an archaeologist disturbed a burial site, there were no repercussions even though to the Native Americans, this was a huge affront to the deceased.

I, for one, think that dealing with humans remains will always be tricky, no matter where you are, because of the different beliefs of what respect to the deceased may mean. For some, a body is just that: a body. For others, a body means much more: the life and death, and story of that individual, of their family, perhaps. 

Photo of Ishi

Take for instance Ishi, the last known member of the Yahi. After living most of his life completely outside European American culture, at 49 years old (in 1911), Ishi left his home and walked 'into the white man's world, where he lived his last five years of life. He was thought to be the last "wild Indian" and so he was studied by anthropologists at the University of California, Berkeley. Ishi died of Tuberculosis in 1916, and before his death, expressed his belief that if his body was disturbed, his spirit would not be able to be at peace. His friends at the University tried to keep his body intact according to Yahi tradition; however, scientists and doctors neglected his beliefs and his wishes and conducted an autopsy on his body. Should they feel guilty since because of their actions, Ishi's spirit may never be at peace? Ever? Does it matter if they didn't believe it, if Ishi (the man who's spirit is in question!) did? 

It was mentioned in class that if someone wanted to go dig up a cemetery in North America, the answer would be a resounding NO! However, on the other side of the argument, people in my own family have expressed to me their views that if something could be gained from the study of our deceased family members, it should be allowed, since for them, the soul is gone, and the body is just an empty shell.  

Clearly, there are many different beliefs about the spirit and the soul, how they are connected to the body, and what is the right thing to do when dealing with human remains. It is reasonable, therefore, to have some guidelines when dealing with remains in order to ensure that no one is affronted. For Native American remains, this is where NAGPRA comes in. 

The questions which remain are whether Mediterranean and other North American remains should have something equivalent to NAGPRA, and why these remains are treated differently, when perhaps their cultures felt the same way about the afterlife.