THE Mausoleum of Augustus in Rome is a sad place: fenced off and closed to visitors. In most other countries this huge tomb in the city centre would be a treasured national monument. Yet for years the only use Romans made of it was to take their dogs to relieve themselves in the encircling weeds. The latest plans to restore it were approved in 2007. But it was only last month that some of the funding was set aside. With a new mayor due to be elected soon, the money might yet be diverted elsewhere.

The plight of the final resting place of Rome’s first emperor illustrates an irony. The European states with the greatest ancient cultural heritage, Italy and Greece, are those whose governments spend least on the preservation of that heritage and promotion of the arts. In 2013 spending on culture accounted for 0.2% of public expenditure in Greece, the lowest share of any EU country, and a measly 0.6% in Italy, the second-lowest, jointly with Portugal and Britain. Culture’s most avid patrons were the Renaissance men and women of the government of Latvia, who gave it 3.2% of their budget.

The parsimony of Italy and Greece is partly connected with their economic difficulties. They are the member states with the heaviest public debts (133% and 179% of GDP respectively). Some of the severest cuts prompted by the euro-zone crisis were made in their culture budgets. But even before the upheaval, Italy and Greece had a propensity for low official spending on culture, which was all the more damaging since private funding has traditionally been scorned in both countries.

Culture has special relevance at a moment when Europeans are questioning their common identity more intensely than at any time since the second world war. There are two arguments for the claim that Europeans have more in common than base economic self-interest. One, promoted by the former pope, Benedict XVI, emphasises the continent’s Christian heritage. But many Europeans are understandably wary of defining themselves in terms of religion when Europe is secularising rapidly, and when many of its enemies use religion as a badge of identity.

An alternative argument reaches back to classical times and finds in the Roman empire and Greek philosophy the continent’s earliest unification and common beliefs, most notably in democracy. Like other founding myths, this one contains a fair measure of wishful thinking: Plato was no fan of democracy. Even so, the classical narrative that weaves through history from ancient Athens by way of the Renaissance to the Enlightenment and beyond offers an identity for Europe rooted in cultural and intellectual, as well as religious, values. Culture is frequently cited by Greek and Italian officials as an implied reproach to uncouth northerners obsessed with rules: kicking either state out of the euro zone would be tantamount to Europe ripping out its heart.

Recently, however, the two countries’ approaches have diverged markedly. The most dramatic evidence was provided by Matteo Renzi, Italy’s prime minister. Soon after jihadists from Islamic State attacked Paris last year he declared that Italy would counter terrorism with €1 billion ($1.1 billion) to be spent on culture, to match €1 billion on extra security. As with many of Mr Renzi’s announcements, there was small print: his finance minister later explained the extra spending was dependent on the European Commission’s agreement to more budget flexibility.

Even so, it was still a touching act of defiance against the murderously irrational and faith in the role culture can play in resisting it. With or without the blessing of the commission, this year Mr Renzi has approved a 27% increase in the culture ministry’s budget, to €2 billion (though it falls thereafter).

Its energetic minister, Dario Franceschini, is trying to boost the involvement of the private sector and increase the interest of youngsters in their heritage. A tax break for cultural sponsorship is to be extended indefinitely. The government plans to give a card worth €500 to every 18-year-old for spending only at theatres, museums, bookshops and archaeological sites.

In Greece the situation is radically different. Over 800,000 refugees arrived there in 2015. Trying to deal with this crisis, as well as pushing through pension reforms and bringing down national debt, has absorbed much of the government’s time and energy.

But another reason why so little cash is available for culture is a view that Greece’s heritage is solely a matter of national concern. “Greece exists because of its heritage: other Europeans decided that, because of that heritage, it should be freed from Ottoman rule,” says Evangelos Kyriakidis of the Initiative for Heritage Conservation, a research organisation. The state lays claim to total ownership of the past: take a metal detector to hunt for ancient coins, as you can in many countries, and in Greece you could wind up in jail. Private cultural initiatives, even those funded by Greeks, are often met with disdain.

Wine-dark seas

Yet the state can no longer afford to protect all of the nation’s treasures. The archaeological service is overwhelmed. Of more than 10,000 formally recognised sites, fewer than 200 are open.

Just as greater European involvement is needed to resolve the migration crisis, so there could be a case for closer European co-operation in cultural matters. The inauguration in June of an excavated site on Crete will make the point well. The EU provided more than 90% of the funds for one of the few on-site museums in Greece. Nikos Stampolidis, a professor of archaeology at the University of Crete who has made the excavation his life’s work, says the museum at Eleftherna will “shine a light into what archaeologists have chosen to call the Greek Dark Ages, before the Classical period.” That encompasses the time when Homer wrote. As Europe appears to fall into its own, darker period, what better way to celebrate shared, but increasingly questioned values than a museum that illuminates the times of its first great writer?