In a disturbing trend observed across various global conflicts, priceless cultural heritage sites are increasingly becoming casualties of war, yet the perpetrators rarely face justice. From the ancient cities of Ukraine to the historic landmarks of Gaza, and numerous other regions, buildings and artifacts holding immense historical and artistic significance are being deliberately damaged or destroyed. This escalating pattern highlights a critical failure within international legal frameworks and underscores a profound lack of political will to enforce protections designed to safeguard humanity’s shared legacy.
The past year alone has seen a significant surge in attacks targeting cultural property, bringing renewed urgency to the long-standing question of why those responsible for such acts are seldom held accountable. Despite robust international conventions and the establishment of dedicated judicial bodies, the path to prosecuting individuals or state actors for these offenses remains fraught with jurisdictional complexities and political impediments. This ongoing destruction not only erases tangible history but also inflicts deep psychological wounds on communities whose identity is intertwined with these irreplaceable treasures.
Ukraine’s heritage under relentless assault
August witnessed a particularly severe period for Ukraine, as aerial bombardments intensified dramatically, unleashing thousands of drones. Kyiv, alongside the southern port cities of Mykolaiv and Odesa, endured intense shelling. Amidst this widespread devastation and tragic loss of life, Odesa reported significant damage to half a dozen sites recognized and protected by UNESCO, including the historically significant 19th-century Alexandru Sturdza House, known for its distinctive salmon-pink facade.
The Ukrainian Ministry of Culture disclosed that a staggering 148 cultural heritage sites were either damaged or completely obliterated in the preceding month, with Odesa being among the hardest-hit areas. These figures paint a grim picture of the systematic targeting or collateral destruction of cultural assets, prompting local activist organizations to seek justice through international channels. Several groups have filed complaints with the International Criminal Court (ICC) against Russia, citing cultural destruction and looting, yet these efforts have, to date, not resulted in any indictments.
Challenges in global accountability
Experts in heritage protection emphasize that while the legal instruments for safeguarding cultural sites appear strong on paper, their practical implementation often falls short. Bijan Rouhani, a senior researcher involved with the Endangered Archaeology in the Middle East and North Africa project, points out that no state actor has ever faced trial for such offenses. He argues that the primary barrier is no longer a lack of evidence, given advancements in satellite imagery, remote sensing technologies, and dedicated monitoring teams. Instead, he identifies jurisdictional challenges and a pervasive absence of political will as the main obstacles.
This stark reality raises pressing concerns about the efficacy of international efforts to either prevent such damage or ensure accountability once it occurs, especially when considering the multitude of conflicts currently raging worldwide. The conflict in Ukraine serves as just one example in a series of recent wars that have starkly exposed the catastrophic toll armed hostilities take on cultural heritage, leaving irreparable scars on the global historical record.
Gaza’s ancient mosque reduced to ruins
In Gaza, the Great Omari Mosque, a profound symbol of the region’s identity and a testament to its layered history, was largely destroyed in an Israeli strike in 2023. This revered structure had undergone numerous transformations over millennia, evolving from an ancient pagan temple to a Byzantine church, a 7th-century mosque, a Crusader cathedral, and eventually returning to its role as a mosque. Its destruction represents a deep cultural wound, echoing the sentiments of residents like Tareq Abu Dayyeh, who sells local craftwork and antiquities depicting the mosque.
Dayyeh describes his heartbreak at witnessing the ruins, lamenting that “when your past is destroyed, you have no present.” Beyond the tragic loss of tens of thousands of lives and an estimated 200,000 damaged or destroyed buildings due to Israeli bombardment, the obliteration of such cultural landmarks inflicts a profound and lasting devastation. This sentiment, that the destruction of heritage is a loss of identity, has been expressed by people living through conflicts throughout history, underscoring the deep human connection to historical sites.
Widespread threats across regions
Beyond Ukraine and Gaza, alarm bells have repeatedly sounded regarding cultural destruction in various other conflict zones. In Sudan, the ongoing civil war has placed one of the world’s ancient marvels, the Meroë Pyramids, at grave risk. These pyramids, built during the flourishing Kingdom of Kush, were designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 2011. The international body has warned that the fighting has brought all preservation efforts to a halt, leaving the fragile ancient structures vulnerable to erosion from encroaching sand and vegetation, threatening their very existence.
Similarly, reports from Iran in previous years indicated that more than 100 sites, including the UNESCO-listed Golestan Palace in Tehran and Naqsh-e Jahan Square in Isfahan, sustained damage during aerial conflicts. Lebanon and Yemen have also seen their rich historical landscapes imperiled by protracted conflicts, with countless irreplaceable artifacts and structures suffering severe damage or outright destruction, further eroding the cultural fabric of these nations.
Evolution of protective international law
The international community’s recognition of the need to protect cultural heritage during armed conflict dates back to the aftermath of World War II. In response to the massive destruction witnessed during that period, the first-ever international treaty exclusively dedicated to this cause, the Hague Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict, was adopted in 1954. This foundational treaty extends its protection to a wide array of cultural assets, encompassing monuments, architectural sites, works of art, and books, mandating states to safeguard and respect cultural property and to abstain from any actions that might jeopardize it.
Since its adoption, further measures have been introduced to bolster these protective frameworks. A Second Protocol to the Hague Convention, established in 1999, introduced a concept of “enhanced protection” for sites of immense cultural significance. This protocol stipulates that such sites must not be targeted militarily, even if they are being used for military purposes, unless there is no other feasible way to end their use in that manner. This provision aimed to provide a higher degree of immunity for the most precious cultural assets.
The establishment of the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague in 2002 marked another significant step forward. Part of the ICC’s mandate explicitly includes bringing accountability for deliberate attacks on buildings of religious, artistic, and educational value, as well as historical monuments, defining such acts as war crimes. This was intended to provide a judicial avenue for prosecuting individuals responsible for these grave offenses, reflecting a global commitment to upholding cultural heritage as a protected category during times of conflict.
The persistent gap in justice
Despite these legal advancements, the task of prosecuting cultural destruction as a war crime has proven exceptionally complex and difficult. To date, only one case has been successfully brought to conviction at the ICC for this specific offense. Ahmad al-Faqi al-Mahdi, a jihadist militant leader in Mali, was found guilty of directing attacks that led to the destruction of mausoleums and a mosque in Timbuktu. He was sentenced to nine years in prison, a landmark judgment that, while significant, remains an isolated instance of successful prosecution.
Bijan Rouhani critically observes that without the unwavering support of major global powers and a genuine commitment to international law and its enforcement, the world is destined to witness this devastating pattern of cultural destruction repeat itself endlessly. He contends that for most governments, cultural heritage remains a secondary concern, often only gaining attention when it can be leveraged for propaganda purposes. Rouhani highlights that the Hague Convention obliges states to integrate cultural protection into their military rules and to respect cultural property both domestically and abroad. However, the sheer scale of damage observed in recent conflicts makes it difficult to conclude that these obligations are being taken seriously by many nations.
In conflicts spanning from Ukraine to Iran and Gaza, where even schools and hospitals are sometimes perceived as permissible military targets by combatants, the likelihood of a museum or a collection of ancient stones, no matter how rich in beauty, history, and memory, being spared from destruction appears increasingly slim. The ongoing devastation underscores a profound ethical and legal challenge: how to instill respect for irreplaceable cultural heritage in the brutal calculus of modern warfare and ensure that those who deliberately destroy it are held to account for their indelible crimes against humanity’s shared past.
