by Hudson Moura
Mati Diop’s documentary Dahomey takes us on a poignant journey that traces the return of 26 royal treasures from the Kingdom of Dahomey to Benin in 2021 after being looted during the colonial era. Awarded the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival last year, this film is a political commentary on restitution and a deeply emotional exploration of history, identity, and the quest for cultural justice.
The film follows the movement of these culturally significant artifacts—statues of kings like Glézé, Béhanzin, and Ghézo, as well as a throne taken by French soldiers in 1892—from the Musée du Quai Branly in Paris to their homeland in Benin. What makes this documentary unique is its approach to storytelling: it gives a voice to the very artifacts it documents. Through an interior monologue voiceover in their dialect, these objects—once symbols of power and spirituality for the Beninese people—speak to the audience about their trauma, exile, and longing for return. They express the emotional weight of their journey, from being plundered and held captive in foreign museums to the possibility of being returned to their rightful place.
This artistic choice of anthropomorphizing the artifacts is innovative and emotionally stirring. Each object, whether a royal statue or ceremonial throne, carries its narrative, shedding light on its significance within the Dahomey Kingdom and its eventual displacement. These voices speak of suffering, separation, and the uncertainty surrounding their return, serving as powerful metaphors for the colonial experience and its lingering effects on the cultural memory of the African continent.
The documentary also contrasts these object-centered narratives with the perspectives of young Beninese students, who engage in a passionate debate about the significance of restitution. The discussions highlight differing opinions within the younger generation regarding the return of cultural treasures. While some view the restitution of the 26 objects as a necessary step toward cultural repair and recognition, others argue that the gesture is insufficient, given that only a fraction of the looted artifacts have been returned. This debate illuminates the internal tensions within Benin as the country grapples with its post-colonial identity and its struggle to reclaim its heritage. The film reflects the complexity of cultural restitution and decolonization, showing how the return of artifacts is not just about objects but the reclamation of history, dignity, and national pride.
Finally, what distinguishes Dahomey from other documentaries on the subject is its deeply poetic and symbolic treatment of the restitution process. Unlike many documentaries that focus purely on the political or legal aspects, Diop’s film emphasizes the emotional and symbolic significance of these objects. It is not merely about the objects returning to Benin; it is about the journey of reconnecting with a lost culture and identity. Through the voices of the artifacts and the emotional debates of the young students, the film shows that restitution is not only a political act but a complex emotional journey that raises questions about the limits of formal restitution and the true healing of historical wounds.
In its delicate balance of historical reflection, emotional resonance, and cultural debate, Dahomey offers a unique and powerful meditation on the power of cultural restitution and its role in the ongoing struggle for justice in post-colonial Africa.
(4.5/5)