Tao of Crime
Confucius says: If the customer asks you, "how much do you want for it?" -sell it for a fair price, or hide the object from view. This proverb came to mind after knowledge of an incident which falls under the moral of the proverb. Once there was a shop in a large, Western town which retailed nutritional supplements, both vitamins and herbs used in traditional medicine. Displayed in the shop's window was an exceptional specimen of whole Ginseng root. A Chinese customer, so the story goes, went into the store and asked the price for the root in the window. This minor incident is important, as we shall see...
The Ginseng story has been known to me for so long, that I have long since forgotten the source, but not its point. At that time (long past), I didn't appreciate the anecdote's possible future importance and, unthinking, made no note of reference. My memory of it, however, persists to this day. To resume the story, the shopkeeper replied, "It's not for sale. It is intended to get customers to come into the store." The shopkeeper's candor was not appreciated by the Chinese person. A few days later, the store's window was smashed, and the exceptional Ginseng root was stolen. The shopkeeper learned too late the power of buyer's motive.
What struck me at the time about the story was the store owner's sense of entitlement. The burglary was, to the shopkeeper, not merely a crime. It was unfair! To me, it was (possibly) my first confrontation with nationalistic animus. It occurred to me (perversely) that the crime was justified, if unfavorable to the shopkeeper. I was certain the store keeper knew in his heart any right of ownership he might claim over the Ginseng root was trumped by the Chinese person's (alleged burglar's) cultural right to appropriate the root. Everyone knows Ginseng is sacred in Chinese culture. The shopkeeper realized he had been arrogant. It is a fable with sting.
All of which I was reminded of after reading Ralph Pezzullo's new book, "The Great Chinese Art Heist: Imperialism, Organized Crime, and the Hidden Story of China's Stolen Artistic Treasures," (Pegasus Crime, 2025). It is a true crime narrative which exposes a series of high-profile art thefts across Europe beginning in 2010, linking them to historical injustices, and on-going cultural property rights claims. The book opens with the August 6, 2010 break-in at Sweden’s Drottningholm Palace, the first of several meticulously planned heists targeting ancient Chinese artifacts in museums and royal residences of France, England, Norway, and other European countries. The stolen artifacts, many of which were looted from Beijing’s Old Summer Palace (Yuanmingyuan) by Anglo-French troops during the Second Opium War in 1860, are not merely priceless; they are historic relics.
New York Times journalist and author Ralph Pezzullo explores, in “Heist,” the theory that recent thefts may not be mere criminal acts, but the justifiable reclaiming of artifacts of China's history of invasion and exploitation by foreigners, tokens of unforgotten resentment over colonial plunder, known in China as the “Century of Humiliation.” The stolen artifacts, such as the priceless cloisonné chimera taken from the Château de Fontainebleau in 2015, constituted collections established when French and British officers acted - without authority - to bring the treasures back to Europe as trophies of colonial dominion, presenting them to royalty as tribute. Received by Napoleon III and Empress Eugénie at Fontainebleau, these artifacts formed the Musée Chinois, a permanent display of imperial plunder.
The author examines the possible organization behind the heists, including Chinese "triad gangs" operating in Europe, wealthy Chinese collectors, and even state-linked commercial entities like the China Poly Group -although Pezzullo acknowledges the lack of conclusive evidence. He must situate the thefts within the broader context of global debates over cultural restitution, contrasting the disappearance of these artifacts with successful repatriation efforts like those of Nigeria’s Benin bronzes. Because most stolen works of art are too well-known in the trade of art to sell openly, it is credible that the thefts may, indeed, be motivated by nationalism, private bounty, or even, perhaps, simply to bypass slow diplomatic channels in reclaiming cultural heritage.
Against a background of international trade valued in the trillions, it is easy to see how such illicit traffic in obscure items of cultural value would be overlooked by low-ranking, under-paid officials at each of the many points of entry. It is a very, very elite milieu involved in the valuation and distribution of one-of-a-kind works of art, one that is many levels above the gangs of thieves, smugglers, and even corporate interests acting, in effect, as "fences" for stolen art. It is even, possibly, a political conspiracy. Combining journalism with history, "The Great Chinese Art Heist" is a sweeping scandal connecting 19th-century imperialism, the Opium trade, and nationalism, to 21st-century investigations of organized crime, international finance, and cultural identity.