WHO SHOULD OWN BURIED TREASURES FOUND?
WHO SHOULD OWN BURIED TREASURES FOUND?
Well, it really depends on where it is found, and what exactly is found. That’s the simple answer. But as with all matters involving money, history, and the law, nothing is ever that simple.
For sure, anything with cultural, historical, archaeological, or anthropological value should belong to the national government. These are not ordinary objects—they are fragments of our collective identity. They are our national memory buried under soil, sand, and time. No private owner should have absolute claim over something that belongs to the Filipino story.
Everything else—ordinary gold bars, coins, jewelry—can be shared between the finder and the State, perhaps 50/50. But let’s be honest: if the government doesn’t know about the discovery, how can it even claim its share? This is where transparency and incentives matter.
But to me, what matters most are the finds that tell us who we are. These are far more precious than gold. And ironically, they’re also far more expensive to “buy back” once they end up in private hands. That’s why the better solution is for the government, particularly the National Museum of the Philippines (NMP), to be more directly involved—funding digs, monitoring sites, and responding quickly to discoveries.
Unfortunately, I also know how hard it is to squeeze budget allocations from Congress. Agriculture, infrastructure, healthcare, education, defense—these always come first. But what about national pride? What about identity? These are part of our social capital. You cannot assign a monetary value to them, but without them, a nation loses its soul.
And speaking of national pride, let’s compare ourselves with other countries.
Recently in France, a man found gold bars worth £616,000 in his garden. He did the right thing—he reported it. His reward? Most likely nothing. French law gives priority to the original owner or their heirs. And if there are no heirs, the treasure goes to the State. Imagine finding a fortune and walking away empty-handed just because you were honest.
In contrast, another couple in the U.K. found 70 Tudor-era gold coins while gardening. Those coins were sold for £467,000, and the finders received compensation under the U.K.’s Treasure Act. Their honesty was rewarded, not punished.
So where does the Philippines fall?
Our Civil Code (Articles 438–439) says hidden treasure belongs to the landowner—but if someone else finds it by chance, the split is 50/50. Simple enough.
But things change the moment the find has cultural or scientific value. Under the National Cultural Heritage Act (RA 10066), the State can claim such objects, with “just compensation.” The government may step in to preserve the site, the artifacts, and even the surrounding environment. And rightly so.
Should we tighten these laws further? Should LGUs craft their own reporting protocols? Should barangays participate in heritage conservation? Should the NMP finally get the budget it deserves?
To move forward as a nation, we must first understand our past. Somewhere beneath our fields, rivers, mountains—even backyards—are stories waiting to be discovered. But unless we protect them, someone else will own our history.
And what good is a nation that cannot even keep its own treasures?
RAMON IKE V. SENERES
www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/07-15-2026