[NHCOLL-L:1140] MOSCOW PALAEONOTLOGICAL INSTITUTE
Boylan P
P.Boylan at city.ac.uk
Sat Aug 4 06:02:28 EDT 2001
For information - from Christian Science Monitor via Museum Security
Network.
Patrick Boylan
(City University London)
=================================
From: Dan Chure <danchure at easilink.com>
Subject: Skullduggery among Russia's old bones
Skullduggery among Russia's old bones
Byline: Fred Weir Special to The Christian Science Monitor Date: 07/30/2001 Click here to
read this story online: http://www.csmonitor.com/durable/2001/07/30/fp1s3-csm.shtml
(MOSCOW)The faded Gothic building that houses Russia's scandal-ridden Paleontological
Institute is a musty labyrinth of dimly lit corridors that sometimes end abruptly or plunge
into a murky stairwell. Crowded along the walls, cabinets bulge with fossils and jumbled
heaps of ancient rock, assorted skulls, and dinosaur bones. It is the perfect setting for a
whodunit.
And there is a mystery here.
Over the past decade hundreds of unique fossils, potentially worth millions of dollars, have
vanished from the 200-year-old collection of the institute, which is known by its acronym
PIN.
A few Russian paleontologists, cautiously backed by a group of Western colleagues, have
accused the institute's directors of master minding the heists and using the proceeds to set
up private companies. Those same firms, they allege, are now ravaging Russia's fragile
natural fossil deposits and collaborating with PIN insiders to fake the "expert certificates"
required by Russian law to export scientifically important specimens to lucrative Western
fossil markets.
"We have foxes guarding the hen house," says Larissa Doguzhayeva, a leading PIN
researcher who says she was demoted and had her salary cut after she started
investigating the thefts several years ago. "In the past decade, those in power started
privatizing the state property under their control and using it to enrich themselves. That's
the only explanation for what happened here at PIN."
No one denies that massive thefts did take place at PIN, mostly in the chaotic and poverty-
stricken 1990s, when scientists' salaries dropped below subsistence level. Many experts
left the institute, and some started fossil-exporting businesses. But beyond that, says PIN
director Alexei Rozanov, "the allegations are abhorrent, the worst kind of lies." He refuses
to talk further, saying only that "the police have not made any charges based on this,
nothing at all."
In December 1996, a reporter for the science journal Nature asked PIN deputy director Igor
Novikov why the institute had reported almost none of the fossil thefts from its inventory to
police. Novikov said there was little point in doing so, since "we cannot expect much help in
such cases from the police, either Russian or Interpol." One case that was reported
remains unsolved, although police concluded it was an inside job.
Arkady Zakharov, a former PIN scientist who founded a company called Russian Fossils,
says the issue of thefts is a red herring launched by political forces who want to discredit
capitalism. "The main issue is not a few items that were stolen years ago," he says. "It's
about private property that is gathered and restored by companies that work in a normal
way. Scientists like Doguzhayeva think our property should be expropriated."
Countries around the world regulate paleontological finds in a number of ways. In the US,
rules vary according to who owns the land where the item is found. In Canada, the state
has the right to buy any fossil determined to be scientifically valuable.
Ms. Doguzhayeva, a top expert on ammonites, or prehistoric mollusks, says she became
alarmed one day in 1996 when Mr. Zakharov brought a German fossil dealer named
Joachim Wordemann to see her. "They offered to buy a big collection of ammonites I had
just gathered in field work," she says. "I told them it was state property, and asked them to
leave my office."
A few weeks later, upon returning from a conference abroad, she found the collection had
been stolen. "There is no doubt it was an inside job," she says. PIN director Rozanov
showed no interest in the disappearance, she says, and refused to report it to the police.
Zakharov, the scientist-turned-merchant, denies that the visit to Doguzhayeva's office ever
took place.
In a separate incident, Mr. Wordemann, the German fossil dealer, was arrested by Russian
authorities in St. Petersburg in 1999 and charged with trying to transport a truckload of
partially undocumented fossils into Finland.
By the mid-'90s, some Western paleontologists began to notice valuable specimens from
the world-famous PIN inventory turning up on private markets in Europe and the US. One
day in 1994, Rupert Wild, curator of the State Museum for Natural History in Stuttgart,
Germany, was amazed to see a unique 240-million-year-old amphibian skull available for
private sale. So he asked the dealer - the same Wordemann - if he could borrow it. Back in
his office, under special lighting, Dr. Wild found a partially erased Soviet catalog number
from PIN stencilled on the piece. The skull was later returned to Russia.
An informal working group of seven Western paleontologists, including Dr. Wild, was
created to help identify and recover stolen Russian fossils from crooked dealers. It compiled
an extensive list of missing items that included rare dinosaur skeletons, mammoth tusks,
remains of the extinct cave bear, and Doguzhayeva's ammonites. But the group ran up
against a brick wall after asking PIN directors to confirm other suspected thefts.
"Numerous lines of evidence point to an organized group operating within PIN, with direct
access to PIN collections, well developed contacts with foreign commercial dealers, and
the facility to move stolen items through Russian customs," said the group's 1998 report.
Without cooperation from PIN, the Western scientists have been able to do little since. "We
were met with such opposition by the Institute in Moscow, which we were naively trying to
help," says Prof. Michael Benton of Bristol University, one of the group's members. "That in
itself is interesting."
Even Doguzhayeva, the whistle-blower, says the pillaging of PIN's collections has probably
ended. The same people have moved from burglary to business, she alleges. Russia's rich
fossil grounds are being ruined by ruthless predators, working in league with rogue
scientists, who smash the sedimentary strata with machinery and cart fossils away by the
truckload. "The last time I went to search for ammonites, near Shilovka on the Volga River, I
was stunned by the destruction," she says. "I wept for days."
Last January the Ministry of Culture, which has authority over art and antiquities in Russia,
asked Doguzhayeva to examine a collection of 12,000 ammonites recently dug up in the
Volga region by Mr. Zakharov's Russian Fossils company. An expert from PIN had already
certified the batch, potentially worth tens of thousands of dollars, as "scientifically
worthless" and therefore eligible for export. "I was flabbergasted," Doguzhayeva says. "You
could have written several papers about some of those specimens."
But Zakharov tells a very different story. He says all excavations are carried out with the
participation of scientists, who are given free access to any really interesting finds. "Maybe
some fossils are unique, and should be in a museum, but how many examples of a
particular type of ammonite does Doguzhayeva need?," he says. "According to her, they
should all belong to science, as in Soviet days. She cannot get used to the idea that we
have a market economy now, and these fossils are my private property." Zakharov
concedes that his company pays experts from PIN to evaluate fossils and certify them for
export, but denies any conflict of interest. "The experts would be paid whether they certify
the fossils or not," he says. "We have to pay them because the Ministry of Culture can't
afford to."
At least one top PIN official remains a "good friend," says Zakharov, though "there is
emphatically no business relationship." And he acknowledges that his main foreign partner
is Wordemann, but he insists that the German dealer's legal misadventures were "all his
own doing."
For Zakharov, the case of the stolen PIN materials is a police matter and none of his affair.
The real problem today, he says, is the Soviet mind-set of government officials who cannot
tolerate the idea of modern commerce in fossils. Doguzhayeva, whose angry resistance
has prompted the Ministry of Culture to block the export of his ammonite collection, is
"totally subjective." He says, "She is against business. How can she be allowed to have so
much influence?".
Doguzhayeva has a different view. "A few people enriched themselves by looting our
nation's heritage," she says. "They want us to forget the past, accept them as normal
businessmen, and agree that all is right with the world. I can't reconcile myself to that."
(c) Copyright 2001 The Christian Science Monitor. All rights reserved.
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