Decades of looting turned living Deities into costly global commodities, but the era of quiet disappearance is giving way to one of recovery and return
A Land of Living Gods
By Nikki Thapa, Nepal
For centuries, nepal was isolated from the outside world by its rugged geography and policies that, until the 1950s, restricted entry of foreigners. This barrier served as protection for Nepals sacred heritage. Stone Deities, wood and metal icons, paubhas (traditional paintings) and murals remained safely enshrined in their rightful abodes. As living presences, they were honored through daily worship, seasonal festivals and generational devotion.
This changed when Nepal opened its doors to the world. First-time visitors arriving in the ancient city of Kathmandu on special permits encountered a sacred landscape unlike anything they had known. Every street, courtyard and crossroads was adorned with magnificently crafted spiritual artifacts shaped over centuries by faith. Visitors were spellbound. To them, the Kathmandu Valley appeared as an enormous open-air museum. Intricately carved wooden windows and doors bore floral motifs and protective symbols. Beautiful stone, metal and terracotta Deities resided in temples, monasteries, old palaces, homes, Buddhist and Jain shrines, stupas and chaityas. Master-crafted water spouts were sanctified by ritual use. Images of inner-world guardians watched over lanes and temples, open fields and forgotten corners.
What visitors saw, wrote, recorded, was not a museum, but a living, unbroken civilization where art, ritual and daily life were inseparable. Perceval Landon, a British journalist and author—who visited in 1908 and 1924, wrote in his book Nepal that this land has more Gods and Goddesses than people.
In 1964, Dr. Stella Kramrisch, one of the first scholars to present Nepals spiritual and artistic legacy, organized an exhibition of Nepali art at Asia House in New York, and documented the artifacts in a landmark catalogue. In 1966, the Department of Archaeology of His Majestys Government of Nepal presented Nepali art in Western Europe, which further deepened international admiration. Scholarly articles and publications soon followed, bringing Nepals sacred arts and crafts to global attention.
This burgeoning fascination came at great cost. As interest in Nepals art increased, the Gods of Kathmandu Valley found themselves suddenly exposed to the new and unknown danger of theft. This open museum attracted not only art lovers and religious pilgrims, but also thieves and smugglers. Statues began to disappear a few years after the country opened its borders—lost, stolen or smuggled into foreign lands.
Collectors prized the statues for their aesthetic harmony and technical mastery. Profit flowed through a layered network as Western traffickers and Nepali middlemen profited by laundering the origins of these images through false provenances. Local intermediaries, often motivated by poverty, were paid modest sums to surreptitiously pry statues from temples and communities.
Plunder of the Sacred
From the late sixties onward, Deities that had immense spiritual, psychological and emotional significance for people were whisked away, usually at night. The murtis were removed from temples, shrines, chaityas, stupas, sacred niches, fields and forests of Kathmandu Valley. Even during the day, when villagers were tending their fields, thieves struck, snatching Deities from their homes. Art patron Sangeeta Thapa, founder of Siddharth Art Gallery in Kathmandu, says, Sacred statues were taken across the border and then transported to other countries because systems and rules were not in place.
The pilfering continued in the 1970s and 80s. The stolen statues were beloved Gods before whom Nepalese offered puja and lit lamps at dawn and dusk. If the temple fell on the commute, they wouldnt pass without making a quick darshan. On every birthday and anniversary, they visited the nearby shrines of a God or Goddess in thanks for yet another year. No Nepali puja ritual starts without making offerings at a Ganesh shrine, whether at home or at temples. Every neighborhood has a small Ganesh temple at the crossroads, with its murti considered the community Deity. Losing such a holy image leaves the place bereft, where prayers are offered before beginning any task, celebration or life event, breaking the rhythms of worship and silence. What was taken was not only Nepals heritage but the essence of our identity, faith and collective memory. Alisha Sijapati of the National Heritage Recovery Campaign (NHRC) says, Heritage is deeply emotional; this is an aspect that is often overlooked.
Under such circumstances, the 1989 publications Stolen Images of Nepal by Nepali artist and scholar Lain Singh Bangdel, and The Gods are Leaving the Country by German art connoisseur Jurgen Schick, carefully documented this cultural larceny. These two works hold immense significance, for they furnish authentic visual evidence to verify the provenance of looted images. But the art objects Bangdel and Schick documented are only a fraction of what has been lost in the last 50 years. Schick warned that unless urgent changes were made, Nepal, the land of Gods, risked losing all its sacred images by the turn of the millennium. It now falls to the Nepalese government to undertake the formidable task of initiating procedures to repatriate all valuable Gods and Goddesses that have been taken out of the country.
The Department of Archaeology possesses no other systematic documentation, detailed inventories, photographic records or scholarly assessments of the countrys sculptural and artistic wealth.
From Shrine to Showcase
Well-organized bands of thieves have systematically plundered Nepals art treasures, stealing under commission to the international art theft network, which then smuggled them abroad to collections and museums of rich countries in the West and Asia. No work of art was secure, no matter how famous or revered. The theft of artifacts from Kathmandu Valley and as far as Mustang and Dolpa in the northwest was also carried out by high-profile expatriates and powerful elites. On the global art black market, statues of religious Deities fetch millions of dollars. But to the Nepalese, sacred images are not valued in economic terms; they are not collectable commodities, but living Gods that are consecrated when installed.
The preferred Gods seemed to be Narayan, Surya and Uma Maheswar along with Buddha. In the ancient Newar settlement of Handigaon, villagers have lost 70% of their clan Deities. Among the stolen sacred images were wooden Bhairava figures, a metal Indra paraded during Indra Jatra festival, and stone Gods and Goddesses from Satya Narayan Temple dating back to the Lichhavi period (c. 400–750 ce). Gopal Dongol, a Handigaon resident, points to the surviving feet of a Goddess, fragments that are still worshiped during the Indra Jatra festival, standing as a stark reminder of what has been lost. A fellow resident recounts the stressful ordeal of losing his Bhairava statue. He made repeated visits to the police station in hopes of recovering the family Deity, but finally gave up. Residents of Pharping, another Newar town on the southern edge of Kathmandu, echo similar experiences. They were forced to commission replicas of their stolen clan Deities to continue the age-old annual procession of those Gods.
According to an Al Jazeera report, roughly 80% of Nepals valuable heritage items have been stolen from temples and shrines. After years of disappearance, they have started to reappear, especially in the Western art world. The statues stand cleaned and polished in auction houses, museums, galleries, private collections and antique shops behind clear glass and on lonely pedestals—converted from objects of worship to objects of art.
Surendra Manandhar, a cultural activist from Pharping, shares that the 17th-century gold-copper icon of Nil Barahi, which was part of a group of seven Deities featured in the annual procession during the holy festival in Pharping, was stolen in 1999 and traced to the Asian Civilization Museum (ACM) in Singapore. He added that the community has raised the matter at the Department of Archaeology, but has not seen any result yet. According to Channel News Asia, the ACM bought the artifact in 2007 for US$650,000 from a defunct New York gallery.
When a religious artifact is placed in a museum, it is removed from its original context and is no longer part of daily worship, ritual cycles and communal memory. Sandip Maharjan, a 27-year-old licensed guide and cultural enthusiast, expresses concern that his generation can identify only a limited number of Deities. When shown photographs of stolen statues, many are unable to identify them, revealing how fragmented cultural knowledge has become. He notes that several jatras (religious festivals) have already been discontinued following the theft of sacred images. While his generation may still know of these traditions, he fears that future generations risk being permanently disconnected from this culture.
Five out of twelve gilded, copper-bronze inlaid Deities of a frieze at the Taleju Bhavani Temple in Patan were stolen and later turned up at the Bonhams Auction in Paris. They have not yet been successfully repatriated, but replicas were created in the meantime. Photo: Courtesy Jurgen Schick, Arranged by Facebook/Lost Arts of Nepal
Kanak Mani Dixit, a Nepali publisher, editor, writer, vice chair of the NHRC and founder of the magazine Himal Southasian, in his article Gods in Exile, writes that sacred images taken from Kathmandu Valley and now housed in the West are not commodities but displaced Deities. Their rightful place is among the communities that worship them. Until their return, current holders stand merely as custodians, not owners.
Sanjay Adhikari, heritage activist and legal advocate, emphasizes that Nepals sacred objects have always been part of active worship. He says, They are not merely metal or stone objects but living embodiments of our Gods and Goddesses that we have been venerating for generations and need to continue the tradition revered by generations to come.
Its a given that thousands and thousands of sacred statues were stolen because of the indifference of various branches of government and other civic bodies. The deeper challenge of art theft lies not in blame, but in recognizing the need for sustained collective attention and strengthened systems of care. To safeguard such a vast living heritage (whatever is left) requires a shared responsibility of government institutions, civic bodies, communities and every individual alike.
This sacred duty is stated by Article 48 in the Constitution of Nepal: It is every citizens fundamental duty to protect the community heritage. Encouragingly, this awareness has grown in recent years, which is what Nepal needs more than ever, because the generation that witnessed the theft is perishing. Only the millennials can connect the previous generation and the upcoming ones to hand over the heritage knowledge. Online activists and digital sleuths (like the Lost Arts of Nepal Facebook page), archeologists, and organizations like NHRC must highlight the importance of gatekeeping illicit trafficking and measures that can complement and reinforce the Ancient Monuments Preservation Act of 1956. The Act strictly prohibits the destruction, alteration, or theft of protected, ancient monuments.
Thefts that Didn’t Go as Planned
Not all attempts at larceny succeeded. There are stories of collective courage that intervened to protect the sacred. One such instance is the 7th-century-ce statue of Baraha, the boar incarnation of God Vishnu. Late one night, as the sculpture was already severed at the feet and being prepared to be loaded on a car, noise from the temple alerted the father of Surendra Bahadur Pandey, a resident of the Dhumrabarah area. He quickly roused his family and neighbors, and together they rushed to the temple and confronted the thieves. Startled by the crowd, they fled, leaving the sculpture behind. Baraha was subsequently reinstalled and firmly secured with iron support to the concrete wall. Though the main image of Baraha was saved, they lost the small figurine of Basundhara, the Earth Goddess that was seated on the left shoulder of the God. Later, the patrons of the temple commissioned a replica of the reinstated Goddess.
A similar turn of events surrounds the thousand-year-old Saraswati Goddess of Handigaon. Gopal Dongol recounts the story passed down by his father. In the early 1970s, the stolen Saraswati was placed aboard an aircraft, but the plane failed to take off. As a result, the statue was returned to the police station, where the Handigaon villagers, who had reported the theft, were summoned to claim the Goddess. Saraswati was released to the people of Handigaon. The return was marked with great celebration, but instead of returning the murti to Her isolated shrine near a river, She was consecrated at a new temple at the busy crossroads of Handigaon, ensuring constant public watch.
Another notable recovery is the 6th/7th-century four-faced Brahma statue of the Jaybageshwari Temple. Stolen 40 years ago, the image was reinstalled to its original sanctum in November 2025. In Patan Durbar Square, a bronze Garuda water spout, the centerpiece of the Sundari Chowk, was stolen in 2010 but was retrieved by police a year later in Kathmandu before it could be trafficked abroad. As a replica had already replaced it at the site, the recovered artifact is now safely housed in the National Museum of Nepal. When the Garuda was stolen, Rohit Ranjitkar, the director of Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust (KVPT), says his team was falsely accused of assisting in the crime since the Sundari Chowk was under renovation and no laymen were allowed in the area. He is thankful that the stolen artifact was discovered sooner rather than later.
Likewise, the 10th-century Chaturmurti Vishnu from Maligaon, stolen in the 1980s, was later discovered buried in the bank of Dhobikhola River. It was brought back and reinstalled in its rightful place. The fate was similar for the 12th/13th century, four-foot-tall stone murti of Padmapani Lokeshwar, stolen from Shankar Kirti Mahabihar in Bhagwan Bahal, Naxal, in the mid 70s. It was so heavy that thieves abandoned it in the neighboring area. After spending decades at the National Museum, local authorities restored their long-lost God to its original site on January 9, 2022.
Such cases are also documented in Lain Singh Bangdels book, which records several stolen artifacts that never left Kathmandu Valley and were in the custody of different police stations, now at the National Museum for safekeeping. Even so, each recovered Deity stands as a divine presence.
When thefts are uncovered, generally only the low-level perpetrators are apprehended, while upper-tier operators are untouched. Even when documents are presented to identify powerful people orchestrating smuggling networks, the wall of influence and status enables escape from accountability.
Repatriation
Although the idea of stolen Divinities ever returning to Nepal once seemed remote, formal efforts toward repatriation began in the mid 80s. Since then, 201 sacred objects have been returned from India, UK, Germany, Australia, Belgium and elsewhere. Among the earliest recoveries was a set of metal icons repatriated from a museum in Kolkata, India, which are still housed in the National Museum, as they lack a clear provenance.
In August 1999, a severed head of the Goddess Saraswati in Pharping was returned by an American collector. When Basudev Acharya, a resident of Pharping, read news about the repatriation, he went to the National Museum to greet and welcome his Goddess.
In addition to the Ancient Monuments Preservation Act of 1956, the UNESCO 1970 Convention affirms Nepals right to reclaim cultural property removed unlawfully. Aligned with the convention, Nepal and USA signed a bilateral Cultural Property Agreement (CPA) in Kathmandu on January 8, 2026, to curb the illicit trafficking of archaeological and ethnological objects. At the ceremony, US Ambassador Thompson noted that the agreement reflects the deep respect the US holds for Nepals cultural heritage and strengthens cooperation between the two nations.
Advocate Sanjay Adhikari, who is also a founding member of NHRC, thinks its a great achievement for Nepal because the agreement has significantly shifted the legal burden to the US. He explains, Even though illegal trafficking continues, the CPA changes the dynamics. If traffickers are intercepted at US borders, the burden of proof is no longer on Nepal. It is now the responsibility of the carrier or trafficker to demonstrate that the object is not illicit. If they fail, the artifact is seized and returned to its country of origin.
Adhikari is currently investigating 150 stolen heritages worldwide, located in museums, auction houses and also displayed in living rooms and on swimming pool decks of private collectors. He advocates for the creation of a specialized Heritage Police or Task Force to combat contraband in the future. He warns, Unless the state builds skilled, institutional capacity, individual efforts will never be enough.
Sarita Subedi at the Department of Archaeology says the NHRC has emerged as a key partner in conducting investigative research, gathering evidence and identifying stolen objects. It is a volunteer-driven, nonprofit organization dedicated exclusively to the repatriation of stolen sacred heritages and returning them to the rightful communities that continue to worship them. Adhikari says it emerged from an awakening when he read a newspaper report about a stolen 10th/11th-century Lakshmi Narayan sculpture exhibited at the Dallas Museum of Art (DMA). He discussed the issue with conservation architect Rabindra Puri and other like-minded individuals, which led to the establishment of the NHRC. They were able to bring the Lakshmi Narayan murti home and reinstall it at the temple in Patko Tole, Patan, in 2021.
Repatriation of this particular Deity was a triumph for residents of Patan and equally for American artist and researcher Joy Lynn Davis. Davis has been visiting the theft sites, recording memories shared by locals and painting the stolen stone murtis with 23-karat gold since 2012. She first identified the Lakshmi Narayan at the Dallas Museum. Having completed a painting of this God/Goddess just a year earlier, she recognized the statue immediately. Davis had passed the Patan temple daily on her way to her studio, making its appearance at the museum shocking and deeply personal, she says.
Roshan Mishra, one of the founding members of NHRC and Director of Taragaon Next Museum, shares that when NHRC was first established, it was an exciting and passionate phase. They believed in naming and shaming institutions and private collectors who display Gods and Goddesses behind glass. They thought public pressure, especially through social media, would compel those holders to return what rightfully belonged to Nepal, but today he no longer believes that. As a director of a museum himself, he understands how a museum functions and how direct, respectful, face-to-face conversation leads to better outcomes. A good example is the strut of the Sulima Temple that he identified at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney, in 2019. After returning to Nepal, he communicated with museum staff and after a sustained dialogue of two years, the strut was handed over to Nepal. This experience reinforced his belief in a courteous and collaborative approach.
Alisha Sijapati adds that on the global stage, NHRC is the first registered nonprofit organization united by the shared goal of heritage restoration. It functions as a living knowledge center where individuals are exposed to Nepali sacred art through direct engagement and learning. It organizes conferences to raise awareness on the urgency of contraband and foster dialogue. A conference held in Patan from June 16–18, 2025, by NHRC had experts and activists from Nepal and around the world discuss repatriation of stolen artifacts. The three-day conference examined case studies from Nepal, Cambodia, India, Poland, Vietnam, Lebanon, Syria and Afghanistan, with a particular emphasis on national laws and international repatriation frameworks alongside emerging digital tools such as augmented reality, photogrammetry and data-driven provenance.
The Facebook page Lost Arts of Nepal has played an instrumental role in tracking down many stolen pieces at different museums. These include wooden statues of Nritya Devi and Chintamani Lokeshwar from a Buddhist monastery, I-Baha Bahi, at the Art Institute of Chicago, Philadelphia Museum of Art, Los Angeles County Museum of Art and New Yorks Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Nil Barahi God of Pharping at the Asian Civilization Museum in Singapore, and a 9th-century Buddha statue from Bungamati town at the University of Michigan Museum of Art (UMMA). They tracked the ongoing auction at Bonhams, Paris, of five gilded copper-bronze images of Nrityanath, Mahalaxmi, Chamunda, Shiva Gana (Bhairava) and Panchmukhi Hanuman (Hanu Bhairava). These were among twelve images on a 16th-century frieze at the south door of the Taleju Bhavani Temple courtyard in Patan. Roshan Mishra has reached out to the auction house in Paris with evidence of the origin of the statues to bring them back to Nepal.
The 400-year-old necklace once worn by the Taleju Bhawani Goddess in Kathmandu, now at the Art Institute of Chicago, was also discovered by the Facebook page, later amplified by a tweet from Sweta Gyanu Baniya, an assistant professor at Virginia Tech University (see sidebar pg. 25). The page has been sharing before-and-after photos of the lost artifacts over the years. When asked how they keep track of the authenticity of their claims of theft, they replied, Our sources and matching processes are unpredictable, without a standard format…sometimes accidental, like Gods are leading our way.
The Road Ahead
The path to repatriation is not easy. Its a lengthy process, made even more complicated when stolen items go unreported. During the 2015 earthquake, it is believed that hundreds of artifacts may have been stolen, yet many never reached the attention of police. Kathmandu Valley has a treasure trove of religious art created during a period of over 2,000 years in open areas, which have not been documented photographically, making detection and recovery especially difficult. But Sanjay Adhikari remains confident that the artifacts stolen from Nepal cannot stay concealed forever. He believes they can be traced within the next decade because travelers who visited Nepal in the 1960s and 70s photographed Nepal extensively, and with the trend of sharing old photos from around the world, they will surface online.
The first and foremost challenging step is provenance research—establishing that a specific Deity originated in Nepal and was removed illegally, which requires specialized skills, archival knowledge and familiarity with community memory. Another challenge is the lack of uniform laws around the world; those regarding antiques are different in every country. Nepal has two principal pathways for recovery: diplomatic engagement through embassies and consulates, or direct negotiations with artifact holders. In many cases, collectors have voluntarily returned sacred objects once their origins were clarified. In other cases, legal actions become necessary. In the US, this process often involves criminal proceedings handled by the Manhattan District Attorneys Office. Meanwhile, France operates under civil law, where repatriation generally requires parliamentary approval. While reforms addressing colonial-era looting are underway, progress remains slow; as a result, not a single monument has been repatriated from France, despite correspondence and publicity.
According to Roshan Mishra, many objects fall into a grey area, particularly images that resemble both Nepali and Tibetan Deities. In some cases, it is difficult to determine whether they originated in Tibet or were commissioned by Tibetan patrons in Nepal and later taken across the border.
Another evidence challenge is that, despite presenting clear documents of artifacts origins, some museums and collectors continue to turn a blind eye. Besides Goddess Taleju Bhawanis necklace, several known looted artifacts have not yet been successfully repatriated. Among them are: 1) five inlaid Deities taken from a gateway, which surfaced at the Bonhams Auction; 2) a 16th-century paubha painting of the Malla era from Nepal, currently held at the Collège de France in Paris; 3) a 12th-century Vishnu with Lakshmi and Garuda, stolen from Chyasal in Patan in the late 1970s; 4) a 12th-century statue of Uma Maheswar, from Nasmanatol in Bhaktapur, stolen May 23, 1984. These sacred objects, long removed from their ritual and cultural contexts, remain in storage at the Musée National des Arts Asiatiques Guimet in France, still awaiting return.
The Department of Archaeology is the rightful state authority in Nepal to initiate repatriation work. The process begins with reports from local communities regarding missing Deities and information on where the contraband may have surfaced. Authorities monitor auction listings and museum collections to identify objects that match the reported thefts. Site inspections are conducted at the original locations, and detailed investigations are made to determine whether the objects found abroad correspond to those stolen. Once the provenance is confirmed, the department submits the comprehensive report to the Ministry of Culture, Tourism and Civil Aviation. The Ministry then forwards the cases to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which communicates with the Nepalese embassies and consulates in the concerned countries. These diplomatic missions initiate negotiations with auction houses, museums and private collectors. Foreign institutions also conduct independent verification to ensure the claims are substantiated and lawful. When the ownership is established as unlawful, most institutions cooperate, as few wish to retain illicit property. Upon approval, the Government of Nepal authorizes the embassy to receive objects on behalf of the state, and recovered artifacts are transported back to Nepal.
Funding of repatriations comes from multiple sources. The Government of Nepal often bears the cost. Museums and collectors also fund repatriation, and at times, cargo service providers transport heritage objects free of charge. In May 2024, US citizen Susan Bradford voluntarily sponsored the shipping of 24 artifacts dating back to the 13th, 17th and 18th centuries that were once part of her private collection.
Once recovered objects arrive in Nepal, the primary objective is to reinstall the sacred images within the original community, which is not always possible. Many original sites no longer exist; numerous temples fell during the 2015 earthquake. At many stone spouts, stolen statuary has been replaced with replicas. Kanak Mani Dixit stresses, We work hard to bring back artifacts, but societies have changed in the meantime. There is no one answer, but personally, my focus now is on a particular Uma Maheswar in room #31 at the British Museum. That Deity was from the Thapahiti stone spout next to the Rudra Varna Mahabihar in Patan.
Another issue is that communities must ensure the adequate protection of returned Deities. These moments require humility, and NHRC understands its limits, and does not impose its decision of reinstalling the repatriated images upon communities, says Alisha Sijapati. Considering the case of the Lakshmi Narayan statue, it was returned with a severed hand, so the people of Patan already had a consecrated replica installed at the temple. Hindu shastra says that with even minor damage, a Deity is considered impure. Shastra also forbids the coexistence of two energies, but the community insisted on reinstating their returned God. Therefore the two images are worshiped side by side. A similar dilemma arose with the head of Saraswati at Pharping. The restoration was not feasible as they already had attached a replica head to the remaining torso, and Pharping is not a wealthy community.
The collection of repatriated artifacts has been increasing at the National Museums temporary exhibition hall and also at Patan Museum, awaiting reinstallations to their original location. Sadly, hundreds may never see their reinstatement due to the loss of their homes. Nawaraj Adhikari, spokesperson of the National Museum, states that the repatriated artifacts displayed temporarily inform visitors about their origin, the efforts of recovery from abroad and their cultural significance. They will help the public to understand Nepals historical, archaeological and religious heritage. In addition, the museum conducts awareness programs through its website and in collaboration with related institutions to promote heritage conservation.
Conclusion
Faith moves mountains. I am with Sangeeta Thapa when she says, What has driven the whole repatriation movement is our faith. The stolen images now held by Western and Asian collectors are the very Deities that our ancestors worshiped and venerated for generations by offering water, milk, vermillion powder, flowers, sweets and lights in devotion. We could not prevent the disappearance of our Gods and Goddesses, with whom we shared our happiness and prayed to get rid of our sorrow, but today there is a growing determination to bring them home.
For fifty years, the theft of these sacred images has deprived us of our right to faith, culture, heritage. That loss should not continue. May the global market of stolen images be destroyed, all our belongings rightfully returned to us and reinstalled in their respective sacred sites of thousands of years, so that our faith, rituals and festivities may continue far into the future.
An Ornament’s Clear Provenance
The art institute of chicago returned a 13th-century Chaturmukhi Sivalinga to Nepal. But the institute still prominently displays a 400-year-old necklace of Kathmandu’s Goddess Taleju Bhavani, stolen nearly five decades ago, as a centerpiece of its Art of Asia department in Gallery 141, alongside other Nepali religious antiquities.
The case for its return appears straightforward, as the necklace, studded with semi-precious stones and inlaid with Ashtamatrika (the Eight Mother Goddesses) bears an inscription identifying it as the property of King Pratap Malla, who ruled Kathmandu from 1641 to 1674. In May 2022, the Nepali Embassy in Washington D.C. sent the Institute a letter of request for repatriation for the necklace, which it has held for three decades. The Institute replied that the piece was gifted by the US-based Alsdorf Foundation and cannot be returned without definitive proof of origin.
Sweta Gyanu Baniya, an assistant professor at Virginia Tech University’s Center for Humanities, decided to visit the necklace in person with her husband after hearing about it from friends. She later reflected, “When I saw the necklace displayed as a mere object for onlookers who might not know its deep importance to a Nepali Hindu, I started to cry. I joined my hands together in prayer, mumbling to myself, ‘This necklace doesn’t belong here.’ The marks of century-long vermilion powder were still there, signifying that this piece was worshiped as a part of Taleju Bhavani and probably worn by the Goddess herself. Seeing the vermilion deeply moved me, because for the centuries until it was lost, this was part of the Goddess. So many sentiments, religious beliefs, and cultural values are attached to this necklace.”
With strong sentiments, she circulated photos and a video questioning why and how the necklace came to be in the museum. Public outcry grew, and Ms. Baniya later wrote a case study for her students’ degree course to continue the discussion. Despite her best efforts and those of activists and journalists, the Institute remains silent on the matter. Hinduism Today contacted the Institute in early 2026 for their current stance on the issue. Their response via email, “We are committed to preserving and celebrating Nepal’s rich cultural heritage and are always interested in learning more about the objects in our care. We are in communication with the Government of Nepal and will continue to collaborate with them directly.” The Embassy of Nepal in Washington D.C., when asked if communication is indeed happening, replied that they do not have any updates regarding the case at this time.
About The Author
Nikki Thapa is a photographer and photo editor. Her website, askmeaboutnepal.com, is a rich resource on Nepal’s culture and traditions. nikkithapa@gmail.com.