RANO RARAKU, Easter Island — As remnants of a vanished culture and a lure to tourists, the mysterious giant statues that stand as mute sentinels along the rocky coast here are the greatest treasure of this remote place.

Commercial and political interests, as well as some archaeologists, would like nothing better than to restore more — or perhaps eventually all — of the moai, as the statues are known. But many residents of Rapa Nui, the Polynesian name for Easter Island that is favored here, regard that possibility with a mixture of suspicion and dread.

Still, many of the people of Rapa Nui regard the moai as a nearly sacred link to their ancestors, thousands of whom were carried off into slavery by raids from Peru in the 19th century or died in epidemics. If they prefer to leave things as they are, one reason may be that they are not satisfied with what they have observed so far.

“Our elders ask what possible reason there can be to restore more moai, when we can see that those that have been restored are deteriorating more rapidly than those that are broken and still lying on the ground,” Mr. Edmunds said. “By exposing them to rain, salt, lichens and chemicals you merely make things worse.”

Part of the debate may simply stem from sheer fatigue with archaeology and archaeologists. Ever since an expedition led by Thor Heyerdahl landed here 50 years ago, Easter Island has been a magnet not just for archaeologists, but also anthropologists, ethnographers, musicologists, botanists, biologists and art historians.

“As Rapanui we are tired of people coming here, investigating us and then going away with a ‘Ciao!’ and not giving anything back,” Mr. Arévalo Pakarati said. “What did Heyerdahl really leave behind for us? You have to share the benefits and not just leave me a chocolate bar. Those days are over.”