mapped the desert landscape from above. Technocratic programmes like those outlined above reinforce a sense of superiority for Westerners in cultural and technical matters. Bell (2015, xiii) described such interventions as ‘vast schemes for the government of the universe’. However, as history reminds us, those claiming to bring knowledge and civilization are often ultimately the destroyers, looters and beneficiaries of other people’s pasts. Hijacking ISIS, whether in copying the Palmyrene arch or having a Russian orchestra play in the Roman amphitheater (Plets 2017; Meskell 2018), reflects the enormous desire of foreign states, international bodies, academics and entrepreneurs to triumph. Some of these efforts have ultimately backfired. In Florence, the IDA had purportedly forged a ‘true global symbol of the triumph of co-operation over conflict, optimism over despair, and human ingenuity over senseless destruction’. Stobiecka enumerates such quests, often shrouded in a military lexicon, where technology fights back: ‘3D printers can help undo the destruction of ISIS.’ The same was true with Bamiyan. The motivations are reflective of deep desires by the international community to rewrite history and tell a story of success, rather than the failures of heritage agencies like UNESCO (Isakhan and Meskell 2019). Furthermore, a kind of fatigue has developed around the Syrian humanitarian crisis: thus it is easier to fixate on monumental loss than on the ongoing plight of people. Although well intentioned, such virtual efforts reside in Stobiecka’s ‘exclusive zone set by archaeologists, art historians, conservators’ (p. 124). In the main, they reveal our ignorance of regional events and disciplinary histories. She recommends that archaeologists ‘resign from the digital armoury’ (p. 124). While sympathetic to Stobiecka’s arguments, I remain wary of the academic industry that continues to flourish around Palmyra. Yes, the archaeological adventurism and opportunism of the early 20th century have been refashioned into new forms of international technocratic expertise. But in fetishizing the arch, and indeed its copies, we also risk participating in the same discourses that are being critiqued. More sobering still is that the topics that scholars formulate (and seek to have funded) have simply been recalibrated to the insidious practice of ‘crisis chasing’ (Cabot 2019). The crisis is about salvage, albeit our own, since what is unfolding in Syria and Iraq has inevitably saved and spawned myriad institutions, foundations, digital start-ups, initiatives and research, with a new mission and moral charge. Perhaps now we should be considering whether we are creating ever more hostages to fortune.

中文翻译：

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“暴力关怀”？对 Lynn Meskell 和特立尼达黎哥的回应

从上面绘制了沙漠景观。像上面概述的那些技术官僚项目强化了西方人在文化和技术问题上的优越感。Bell (2015, xiii) 将此类干预描述为“宇宙政府的庞大计划”。然而，正如历史提醒我们的那样，那些声称带来知识和文明的人，往往最终是他人过去的破坏者、掠夺者和受益者。劫持 ISIS，无论是复制帕尔米林拱门，还是让俄罗斯管弦乐队在罗马圆形剧场演出（Plets 2017；Meskell 2018），都反映了外国、国际机构、学者和企业家对胜利的巨大渴望。其中一些努力最终适得其反。据称，IDA 在佛罗伦萨打造了一个“合作战胜冲突的真正全球象征”，乐观战胜绝望，人类智慧战胜无谓的破坏”。Stobiecka 列举了这样的任务，这些任务通常笼罩在军事词典中，技术反击：“3D 打印机可以帮助消除对 ISIS 的破坏。” 巴米扬也是如此。这些动机反映了国际社会重写历史和讲述成功故事的强烈愿望，而不是联合国教科文组织等遗产机构的失败（Isakhan 和 Meskell 2019）。此外，围绕叙利亚人道主义危机产生了一种疲劳：因此，关注巨大的损失比关注人们持续的困境更容易。虽然出于善意，但这种虚拟努力存在于 Stobiecka 的“考古学家、艺术史学家、保护者设定的专属区域”（第 124 页）。总的来说，它们揭示了我们对地区事件和学科历史的无知。她建议考古学家“从数字武器库中辞职”（第 124 页）。虽然对 Stobiecka 的论点表示同情，但我仍然对继续在巴尔米拉周围蓬勃发展的学术产业保持警惕。是的，20 世纪初的考古冒险主义和机会主义已被重新塑造成国际技术专家的新形式。但在崇拜拱门，甚至是它的复制品时，我们也冒着参与被批评的相同话语的风险。更令人警醒的是，学者们制定（并寻求资助）的主题已被重新调整为“追逐危机”的阴险做法（Cabot 2019）。危机是关于打捞的，尽管是我们自己的，由于叙利亚和伊拉克正在发生的事情不可避免地拯救并催生了无数机构、基金会、数字初创企业、倡议和研究，承担着新的使命和道德责任。也许现在我们应该考虑我们是否正在为财富创造更多的人质。