Once acting as a military base, prison, royal home, and now as a tourist site, the Tower of London has served a myriad of purposes throughout time and with that, it has gained a rich historical background. I found myself as one of the millions of tourists who visit the Tower every year to explore this fortress, which housed some of British history’s most famous names since the Middle Ages. However, by far its most popular attraction is the exhibition of the nation’s most precious treasures, the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom. This collection of royal ceremonial objects, used most notably in the coronations of British kings and queens, represents over 800 years of monarchy. 

 

Upon waiting to enter the exhibition, visitors take their place in what I would imagine the queue for a British-Royal-family-themed Disney World ride would feel like, complete with a lengthy lesson on the history of past British rulers – and that of the priceless jewels that have adorned their heads – to distract one from the dozens of travelers, and their hungry and heat-exhausted children, ahead of them.

 

Such a display of the jewels’ inseparable identity from the monarchy strengthens their symbolism as the quintessence of royal status, and it is impossible to imagine these gems coming from a background anything other than British. Perhaps, though, this was by design, as the deluge of information conveniently fails to mention the colonial origin of, and with it, the rather unethical means of securing one of the collection’s most dazzling pieces, the Koh-Hi-Noor diamond. 

 

Ironically, the Crown Jewels sit in a heavily guarded fortress, protected by bomb-proof glass and a prohibition against picture taking, efforts to squash any threat of the gems’ theft that may arise from exposing the alarm system’s weaknesses. The ironic bit, you may wonder, is that in doing so, these security measures actually work to prevent the theft of a stolen item. In the decades before British possession of the diamond, it was taken in an invasion by the Persian ruler, Nader, and then “passed between the hands of various rulers in one blood-soaked episode after another.” The British took advantage of fighting between Central Asian factors and came to power in India. After a tumultuous period of changing rulers, they then managed to coerce the 10-year-old boy king, Duleep Singh, to sign over the diamond. 

 

Discussions about how the British should resolve their wrongdoings have revealed that the answer may not be as simple as just returning the jewels. As Boissoneault points out, when it comes to objects taken in colonial conquest, there is great “difficulty in ascertaining who has the first and most legitimate claim to anything.” She also notes the propositions of several historians, suggesting the exhibit at least includes information on the colonial roots of the Koh-Hi-Noor. 

 

Viewing the actual jewels, visitors stand on a moving walkway and are rotated around the jewels, maintaining the theme park ambiance. Listening to the room of “oos’ ‘ and “ahs,” I wondered how many other people were aware of these artifacts’ controversial history. While the diamond’s return is unlikely, I agree that including a sign with even a sentence acknowledging its past, amongst the wealth of information about the other objects, would be better than the attitude of “colonial amnesia” that seems to surround it now. In the same vein as Shashi Tharoor’s speech, simply recognizing and being truthful about the country’s past would demonstrate that the current leadership understands the immorality of past governments. 

 

The nature of this conversation, the fact that there is no “right answer,” exemplifies the complexity of human history. While the past cannot be changed, our present actions must reflect a progression of society by learning from it.