Theft, ownership, culture, history and racism collided this week, both in Germany and in Canada, as the issue of stolen art and stolen land reared its head.
In Germany, a potentially massive trove of art stolen by the Nazis has been found in the Munich apartment of the now 80-year-old son of an art dealer who worked during the Second World War. The German government has so far been reluctant to let the public know the full list of what authorities found in the apartment, despite demands from art historians and various international agencies and lawyers representing the children and grandchildren of the original owners of the plundered art, many of them Jewish victims of the Holocaust.
To be fair, the German government has worked hard in the past to reunite stolen art with its rightful owners and its slow movement on this matter could have something to do with the size and value of the find - with names like Matisse, Chagall, Renoir and Picasso involved, it could be worth hundreds of millions of dollars - and the fact that the apartment's owner is still on the run and wanted for tax evasion.
German investigators likely have many questions for Cornelius Gurlitt once they track him down about the works found in the apartment, starting with how he and his father acquired them and how much, if any, of the collection they discreetly sold since the end of the war.
For the families seeking to have these works returned to them, demonstrating ownership of invaluable art either outright stolen or sold at ridiculous prices to finance hasty escapes from the Nazis can be challenging. Photographs, receipts, letters and documents can either prove or strongly support their claims but the fog of history and war, combined with the emotional weight of the Holocaust, complicates the matter.
Since the works were found in Gurlitt's apartment, he is the owner of the art until cases can be made that he is in possession of stolen property. In other words, the onus is on those demanding the return of the stolen art to prove it was stolen and Gurlitt is not the rightful owner.
The argument these people need to make is strikingly similar to the one the Tsilhqot'in National Government is making this week before the Supreme Court of Canada. The Tsilhqot'in are based near Williams Lake and their case for aboriginal title of their traditional territory has been making its way through the courts for years. They have historic rights to the land, they say, and the resources on and underneath that land belongs to them, not to either the B.C. or Canadian governments.
Even more money is at stake here than in the German art case. Taseko has twice made a pitch to the provincial and federal governments to develop a multi-billion dollar copper and gold mine on land the Tsilhqot'in say they, not Victoria or Ottawa, own. As in Germany, there is a powerful judgment being made about righting a historical wrong and awarding ownership rights.
The Canadian case is more complicated, however, because of the previous rulings the top court has made, where the jurisdiction of First Nations over land not governed under a treaty is recognized but they are not the sole owners of that land. The court's efforts to have it both ways has created confusion, particularly in B.C. Resource development proponents must consult with First Nations about projects on traditional territories, that much is clear, but how much consultation is adequate is not. First Nations have some stake to their traditional territory but it does not include a veto.
So who does have veto rights?
If there is one thing all sides - governments, industry and First Nations - agree on, the uncertainty over ownership is bad for everyone. The court is expected to come down with a ruling on the case next year and hopefully provide some proper clarity.
But if the ownership of invaluable art is still being challenged in Germany seven decades after the end of the Second World War, it's unlikely one court decision will forever decide the true and sole owner of contested land in Canada.
