Queen Idia Ivory Mask, perhaps the greatest of all Benin’s treasures, is now in the British Museum

THEY are exquisitely beautiful, and represent a rich culture of artistic endeavour. But the Benin Bronzes – a collection of metal sculpture from West Africa – have come to also represent colonial oppression and how, today, we have a moral duty to face up to crimes committed in the past and make amends where we can.

A new book, Loot, by Barnaby Phillips, recounts the history of the bronzes – there are over 1,000 in the British Museum – how they were forcibly taken from Benin, what they represent for art collectors and historians, and the debate over their future.

Phillips, who lives in Islington, worked across African countries for the BBC. During a three-year spell in Nigeria, he wrote about the Benin Bronzes – and became fascinated by the story of their creation, place in Benin culture and subsequent theft.

The fact such artefacts are scattered across the world gives the bronzes a contemporaneous angle – their ownership ties in with discussions about the legacy of empire and civil rights today.

“In recent years, these issues have bubbled up in conversations, with reference to colonial looted art,” says Phillips. “Today feels like the right time to ask questions.”

Phillips covers the creation of the pieces over centuries, illustrating how the craftsmanship that went into the metal castings is still practised today. It remains a cottage industry, and Phillips discusses the methods used and reveals the background to the Bronzes.

Benin City was ruled by a king called an Oba, and they had traded with Europeans for centuries.

“There was a metal casting tradition dating back hundreds of years, which reached a peak around the 1600s when Benin traded with Portugal,” Phillips said.

“Then the state fell into decline – and as its power waned, the British were ready to step in with a supposedly mutually beneficial treaty, but one that in reality ceded sovereignty from the Oba to the British Crown.”

By the 1800s, the British saw West Africa as their sphere of influence, and in 1892, they sought to bring Benin under their control.

“A messenger from the British government sought to coerce the king to sign a treaty,” explains Phillips. “It effectively ends the independence of his empire.”

Things quickly went sour. “In the following years, the British become increasingly irritated by the fact their deal, which included a monopoly on palm oil, was being abused,” said Phillips.

This coincided with the nature of Imperialism changing. Concepts of religion and race, of European civilisation taking a dutiful lead reflected the superiority complex imperialists blindly believed in.

“The British Empire has now grown into the ascendancy, ahead of other European colonialists,” adds Phillips. “Benin had major commercial interests, with materials such as palm oil and rubber. What followed was a mix of economic exploitation and Christians trying to convert communities who already have a strong and rich deity-inspired set of moral codes. The British attitude towards subjugated peoples ranged from an irresponsible lack of interest to simple condescension.”

A hardening of attitudes in colonial governance was partly prompted by the so-called Indian Mutiny of 1857, and in the 1890s, nothing was going to get in the way of the British from exploiting Benin’s wealth.

The area’s new Deputy Consul-General was James Phillips, “whose name resonates in Benin City like that of no other Englishman,” writes Phillips.

The grandson of a cavalry officer who fought at Waterloo, he had read law at Cambridge and held a senior post in the Niger Coast Protectorate.

James Phillips believed the Oba failed to stick to the treaty signed four years previously. He asked prime minister Lord Salisbury for permission to overthrow the king. He said it would take 400 soldiers, a Maxim gun and two cannons, and added the cost could be recouped from riches waiting in the king’s palace. Lord Salisbury told him to sit tight – but by the time his letter arrived, Phillips had come to a bad end.

“James Phillips lobbied Whitehall to protect British interests through the use of arms,” said Phillips. “It did not enjoy a positive response but Phillips embarked anyway. Either issues over monopoly trade would be fixed, or Phillips would return with bad tidings and evidence the Benins needed to be taught a quick and painful lesson.”

Phillips’ group were ambushed, and he lost his life. Two officers escaped, and their account prompted a vicious response. “It is a testimony to Britain’s power that within six weeks they had put a force into Benin City and had taken it over,” said Barnaby Phillips.

British troops cut a murderous swathe through the Delta until they reached the city. They arrested the Oba and ransacked the city.

Phillips describes how after a brief battle, a Commander Bacon surveyed the smoking ruins and commented that “it was full of cheap rubbish… old uniforms, absurd umbrellas and the usual cheap finery that traders use to tickle the fancy of the natives”.

But Bacon’s first impressions would be demolished: “buried in the dirt of ages were several hundred unique bronze plaques, suggestive of almost Egyptian design but of really superb casting”.

These pieces were not fixtures and fittings – they were instilled with religious meaning, they told the nation’s history, and illustrated Benin craft through generations.

As Phillips points out, they were “effectively Benin’s national library, cathedral and museum”.

To the soldier, they were the rewards for the risks.

“The British soldier was not an art critic,” observes Phillips. “They stole whatever they could get. This was bounty – the souvenirs of victory.”

Stoked up by a military victory, the bronzes captured the public’s mood. Phillips’ book considers who owns the bronzes today and the mixed attitudes towards their rightful ownership.

“Many museums want to give them back,” said Phillips. “They have become awkward.”

The Bronzes remain a potent symbol of crimes.

“They are so beautiful and striking.

“They were taken relatively recently – and the manner in which they were taken is well documented.”

• Loot: Britain and the Benin Bronzes. By Barnaby Phillips, One World, £20