Editorial.
Stoddart, Simon ; Malone, Caroline
* In our antepenultimate editorial--more on our successor below--we
have chosen to work our way further into the past and focus on a second
key global transition investigated by archaeology: agriculture. The
transition of state formation--our previous theme--is generally
dependent on the increased production of agriculture, and this in itself
speaks of its importance. Our invitation to contribute comments has
developed its own momentum, demonstrating the pace and diversity of
work. Contributors were given a free rein, in terms of opinion, content
and level of formality (with or without references). The only constraint
was provided by space to address the issue of agricultural origins,
transitions and development. Agriculture and farming are themes that
have received much recent attention, building on the impetus of work
commenced in the mid years of the 20th century, such as Braidwood,
MacNeish, Clark and Higgs. These days, the research agenda is very
specific, and focuses on particular scientific methods, on restricted
geographical regions or periods, or on various emerging post-processual
philosophies. Together, the following topical comments offer us a sense
of the immediacy and importance of the continuing research and study of
agriculture, and, how this endeavour is bringing in a rich and varied
harvest.
DOUG PRICE (University of Wisconsin) describes the `Advances and
directions of study of early agriculture' and assesses what is
actually known of the processes, and what the definitions that we
commonly apply to agricultural studies in archaeology really mean within
the discipline. He makes the point firmly that it is the
`transition' which needs to occupy our attention and that
archaeology still needs to engage with fieldwork alongside the molecular
level of analysis that is currently stealing the show. He ends with an
appeal to young scholars to enter this exciting field of research. He
writes:
`As has often been observed, the transition to agriculture was the
most auspicious moment in our human past since we first stepped upon the
stage. As parsed by Bruce Smith (2001: 199), agriculture provided the
lever for the extraordinary development that subsequent human societies
experienced in the Holocene. The success of farming is documented by its
explosive spread from cradles to the limits of cultivation, and beyond,
in a few thousand years. Remarkable as well is its virtually
instantaneous emergence in a variety of environments on all the
continents save Australia and Antarctica.
`It is equally extraordinary how little we know about this
phenomenon. The intent of his brief essay is to consider the current
state of studies and to urge that more resources and expanded research
be focused on the problem.
`But first some essential definitions and concepts. Domestication is a biological process involving genetic and morphological changes in
wild plants and animals. The identification of new plant and animal
species documents the domesticates. Agriculture, on the other hand, is a
human process. As Barbara Bender explained so well some years ago (1978:
206), agriculture is "not about intensification per se, not about
increased productivity, but about increased production and why increased
demands are made on the economy."
`The origins of agriculture lie in the biological processes of
domestication and concern the time and place that the cultivated plants
and herded animals were changed forever. The actual origins of
agriculture are such ephemeral moments as to be invisible in the
archaeological record. We are in fact everywhere viewing the spread of
agriculture, rather than its brief moment of birth. The transition to
agriculture is the much broader and more important issue that is
concerned with how and why these domesticates spread so rapidly across
the continents.
`It is possible to examine the transition to agriculture through a
set of basic questions--what, when, where, who, and why? Questions about
the origins of domestication are largely concerned with finding,
identifying and dating early domesticated plants and animals. The what,
when, and where questions dwell in this realm. The resolution of these
questions is largely a laboratory undertaking. New methods are employed
to determine the identity of domesticates and their distribution in time
and space. Microscopic techniques and the development of comparative
collections have expanded research into vegetative parenchymous tissues,
phytoliths, and starch grains (e.g. Hather 2000; Pearsall & Piperno
1993; Piperno et al. 2000). Root crops are finally coming into
archaeological focus.
`The identification of animal and plant domestication is rapidly
moving to the molecular level; genetic fingerprinting allows
identification of modern wild populations most similar to their
domesticated relatives and their geographic home. Examples document the
heartland of einkorn in eastern Turkey (Heun et al. 1997), of maize in
the Rio Balsas region of western Mexico (Doebley 1990), and the dual
centres for the domestication of cattle in Asia and Africa (e.g. Bradley
& Loftus 2000). Genetic studies of modern animal domesticates point
to multiple centres of origin for cattle, horses, sheep, goats, and pigs
(Zeder et al. in press). AMS dating is revolutionizing our understanding
of the antiquity of agriculture by directly dating the remains of plants
and animals. The fact that the earliest dates for various domesticate
species are changing rapidly at the moment is a testament to the
efficacy of this tool (Smith 1998). Archaeology has made giant steps in
resolving what, when, and where in the last 15 years, but a great deal
remains to be done.
`Questions about the transition to agriculture lie more succinctly
in the realm of prehistoric archaeology, require substantial fieldwork,
and can be investigated in a variety of geographic locations to accrue
more information. Questions of who and why can be pursued with studies
of material culture and settlement organization and distribution. The
who and why questions revolve as well in the theoretical sphere. Any
number of ideas have been conjured up over the years to provide answers,
but they usually fail to conform to the facts at hand.
`The who question, in simplest terms, involves the identification
of the individuals involved in the introduction of agriculture, whether
local or foreign, whether male or female. Archaeology has been
particularly remiss in this arena; opinion has often raced far ahead of
knowledge. Archaeologists employ artifacts as proxies for people, making
migration liable for the appearance of new objects and concepts. The who
question has evoked the same response for generations--migration,
colonization, expansion (e.g. Burmeister 2000; Chapman & Hamerow
1997). Migration is usually indicted for the spread of agriculture as
well (e.g. Renfrew 1987), but other mechanisms must be considered
(Zvelebil & Lillie 2000). New methods that study humans rather than
artifacts will resolve this question, avoiding the pitfalls of proxy
data. Archaeology at the atomic and molecular level is beginning to
grasp human movement in the past. Isotopic studies of tooth enamel
document change of residence in the Neolithic of Europe (Price et al.
1998; 2001). Ancient DNA may provide related information, writing the
genealogies of the first farmers.
`In spite of exciting advances, the outcome of this story continues
to be how little is known about the prehistoric transition to
agriculture. Many early domesticates are yet to be identified; plants
used as condiments, medicines, and raw materials have yet to be
investigated. Important non-food animals species, used as beasts of
burden, pets, or sources of raw material receive little attention.
`So much remains to be done in so many places. Even in Southwest
Asia, with the best record of early domestication, 95% of the effort in
the last 25 years has focused on about 5% of the area. The first farmers
of Turkey, for example, are virtually unknown. An understanding of the
processes of domestication in Africa, south and east Asia is in its
earliest stages. The last substantive fieldwork on the origins of
agriculture in Mesoamerica was more than 20 years ago. South America is
a huge continent with crops and herds originating in desert, alpine, and
jungle environments, but almost no one is looking for the first farmers.
`The transition to agriculture is an enormous playing field, ripe
for major discoveries, intriguing fieldwork, ground breaking lab work,
and intellectual stimulation. Focus on the transition to agriculture,
rather than origins, will better answer the what, when, where, who and
why questions pertinent to this extraordinary phenomenon. Research can
be conducted anywhere there have been farmers. In the last analysis,
this essay becomes a recruiting poster, encouraging young archaeologists
around the world to take up their tools and enter the fray. It's
time to solve the tantalizing and wonderful puzzle.'
References
BENDER, B. 1978. From gatherer-hunter to farmer: a social
perspective, World Archaeology 10: 204-22.
BRADLEY, D. & R. LOFTUS. 2000. Two eves for Taurus? Bovine
mitochondrial DNA and African cattle domestication, in R.M. Blench &
K.C. MacDonald (ed.), The origins and development of African livestock:
244-50. London: University College Press.
BURMEISTER, S. 2000. Archaeology and migration: approaches to an
archaeological proof of migration with C[A.sup.*] comment, Current
Anthropology 41: 539-68.
CHAPMAN, J. & H. HAMEROW (ed.). 1997. Migrations and invasions
in archaeological explanation. Oxford: Archaeopress. BAR International
series S664.
DOEBLEY, J. & A. STEC. 1991. Genetic analysis of the
morphological differences between maize and teosinte, Genetics 129:
285-95.
HATHER, J.G. 2000. Archaeological parenchyma. Los Angeles (CA):
Costen Institute of Archaeology.
HEUN, M., R. SCHAFER-PREGL, D. KLAWAN, R. CASTAGNA, M. ACCERBI, B.
BORGHI & F. SALAMINI. 1997. Site of einkorn wheat domestication
identified by DNA fingerprinting, Science 278: 1312-14.
PEARSALL, D. & D. PIPERNO. 1993. Current research in phytolith analysis: applications in archaeology and paleoecology. Philadelphia
(PA): University of Pennsylvania Museum.
PIPERNO, D.R., A.J. RANERO & P. HANSELL. 2000. Starch grains
reveal early root crop horticulture in the Panamerican tropical forest,
Nature 407: 894-5.
PRICE, T.D., G. GRUPE & P. SCHROTER. 1998. Migration and
mobility in the Bell Beaker period in Central Europe, Antiquity 72:
405-11.
PRICE, T.D., R.A. BENTLEY, J. LUNING, D. GRONENBORN & J. WAHL.
2001. Prehistoric human migration in the Linearbandkeramik of Central
Europe, Antiquity 75: 593-603.
RENFREW, C. 1987. Archaeology and language. The puzzle of the
Indo-European origins. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
SMITH, B.D. 1998. The emergence of agriculture. Second edition. San
Francisco (CA): Freeman.
2001. The transition to food production, in G.M. Feinman & T.D.
Price (ed.), Archaeology at the millennium: 199-229. New York (NY:
Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishing.
ZEDER, M.A., D. DECKER-WALTERS, D. BRADLEY & B.D. SMITH (ed.).
In press. Documenting domestication: new genetic and archaeological
paradigms. Washington (DC): Smithsonian Institution Press.
ZVELEBIL, M. & M. LILLIE. 2000. Transition to agriculture in
Eastern Europe, in T.D. Price (ed.), Europe's First Farmers: 57-92.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
KENT FLANNERY (University of Michigan) covers the `Turning points
in the study of early domestication', a set of stages that are
intricately involved with his own career, working with many of the key
figures. His perspective bridges the Old and New World, placing our
current knowledge in historical perspective. He provides a salutory
reminder of how recent are many of the means of scientific dating and
analysis that we now take for granted, and cautions us to take a broad
view of the various forms of data and of course of human behaviour, and
not base interpretation merely on one or even two dimensions of
evidence. Like Price, he strongly urges students to take up the field,
most specifically in the areas of experimentation and modelling. He
writes:
`Sixty-six years ago Gordon Childe introduced the concept of a
Neolithic Revolution, stimulating a worldwide search for the origins of
agriculture. That search began at the level of the archaeological tell
and has now extended to the level of the phytolith, the pollen grain,
and the DNA molecule.
`The year 1948 will go down as a turning point for both
hemispheres: Robert Braidwood began his hunt for early wheat, barley,
goats, and sheep at Jarmo while Scotty MacNeish was searching the caves
of Tamaulipas for early gourds, squashes, beans, and maize. I can sense
how electrifying that era must have been, because it was my good luck to
join Braidwood's team at Kermanshah in 1960, and MacNeish's
team at Tehuacan in 1962. It was exciting despite the fact that the
search for seeds in Iran was unaided by flotation, and the plants in
both regions could only be dated by nearby pieces of charcoal.
`In the summer of 1961 I apprenticed myself to Stuart Struever at
Apple Creek, Illinois, to learn the flotation method he had pioneered.
Frank Hole and I brought this method to the Near East during 1961-63,
making it possible to recover 45,000 carbonized seeds from Ali Kosh. Our
crude manual techniques, however, were soon superseded by mechanized
froth flotation, advanced by Eric Higgs' students at Cambridge.
Today we take for granted that if your site has ash, you're going
to get plant remains.
`I excavated Guila Naquitz Cave in Mexico in 1966 and its analysis
still continues, thanks to the magnitude of the changes that have since
taken place. We found early gourds, squash, beans, and maize at the
cave, but had no way to date them directly; the seeds were too small,
and the maize cobs too valuable, to send to a radiocarbon lab. We had a
series of cave matrix samples taken by palynologist James Schoenwetter,
but were unsure what the results meant. Pollen grains identified as Zea
sp. were present in strata antedating the earliest maize cobs, but were
they from maize or its wild ancestor, teosinte?
`Today, with the advent of accelerator mass spectrometric (AMS)
dating, tiny bits of squash seeds and maize cobs can be directly dated.
In addition, the rapidly evolving analysis of opal phytoliths can be
used to augment both pollen and macrofossil evidence. When Bruce Smith
had our squash seeds AMS dated, we learned that: (1) the seeds were even
older than we thought, but (2) were not always the same age as charcoal
from the same stratum.
`Since no charcoal was associated with our early maize cobs, their
date was revealed only when Dolores Piperno had them AMS dated. And when
Piperno analyzed our phytoliths, we learned a valuable lesson: there
were no phytoliths from maize cobs or teosinte spikes in the strata with
pollen of Zea sp. I was understandably relieved that I had made no
claims of early domestication based on pollen alone.
`I see this as a cautionary note for some of my colleagues who, in
areas like Mexico's Gulf Coast, base claims of early agriculture
solely on pollen grains identified as Zea sp. or Manihot sp. Beware. I
am enthusiastic about the addition of pollen grains, starch grains, and
phytoliths to the archaeologist's arsenal, but in a land with
several species of Zea and dozens of species of wild Manihot, we need
macrofossils identified to species.
`To be sure, even pollen grains are far from the smallest units now
examined in the search for early domestication: one of the newest
frontiers is molecular. In recent years we have seen DNA used to
establish the links between domestic squashes and their wild ancestors,
and between domestic alpacas and wild vicunas. DNA may also tell us
whether early cattle in the Nile Valley were locally domesticated, or
introduced from the Near East.
`While I applaud these biological advances, they need to be
accompanied by studies of economic decision making. In 1969, I pointed
out that the Neolithic Revolution was preceded by a change in economic
behavior that I called the Broad Spectrum Revolution. In a warmer but
unpredictable early Holocene environment, mid-latitude foragers began to
increase their diet breadth and exploit smaller territories more
intensively; ground stone technology and storage facilities exploded.
Mary Stiner and her colleagues are now able to quantify these new
collecting strategies, which they attribute to "pulses" of
local demographic increase rather than a worldwide population crisis.
`Stiner's efforts are complemented by (1) ethnoarchaeological
experiments at wild plant harvesting like those of Jack Harlan and
Gordon Hillman, and (2) computer simulations of foraging strategy like
those of Robert Reynolds and Steven Mithen. Such studies show us that
plants did not simply domesticate themselves, as David Rindos argued.
Their domestication was the result of human economic decisions and
deliberate behavior, such as planting on virgin soil and removing
competing wild vegetation. Similar decisions were involved in the shift
from hunting to herding, according to the mathematical models of Michael
Alvard and Lawrence Kuznar. We need more such experimentation and
modeling. We also need to learn why sedentary life preceded agriculture
in the Levant and coastal Peru, but only took hold in Mexico after 6000
years of domestication.
`Finally, we need to acknowledge the efforts of those who are no
longer with us. Botanists like Hans Helbaek, Paul Mangelsdorf, Hugh
Cutler, Thomas Whitaker, and C. Earle Smith, zoologists like Charles
Reed and Sandor Bokonyi, and archaeologists like Scotty MacNeish
pioneered the study of domestication. As we make the transition to
molecular archaeology we should remember that if we see farther, it is
because we stand on their shoulders.'
MARTIN JONES (University of Cambridge) in `Directions of research
in agriculture' takes up a particular thread set in train by Kent
Flannery, the biomolecular dimension. He comments on the new directions
of bio-archaeological research, within the context of the broader
questions and key models that are stimulating particular methods, such
as DNA and the human genome project. He writes:
`Archaeological interest in the development of agriculture has
often returned to an issue fundamental to our understanding of how
ordinary people change the way they live. One argument emphasises a
diffuse and universal interaction with the natural environment, and a
gradual response of evolutionary adaptation. The other argument places
emphasis upon more radical and historical changes, occurring in a
particular context and "diffusing" from that context by
movement of people, materials or ideas. In the context of agricultural
origins and spread, Mark Blumler (1992) has described these models in
terms of "independent invention" and
"stimulus-diffusion" respectively. Much of what is new and
current in agricultural research is allowing us to take a fresh and
critical look at these two models.
`The pursuit of the "independent invention" model has
involved looking at novel domesticates and new areas of domestication.
We might imagine that half a century of bio-archaeology had covered much
of this ground, but there remain some very significant gaps and a great
deal that conventional bio-archaeology can achieve. This is well
illustrated by Dorian Fuller's recent seminal work on a series of
key plant crops of southern India, simply achieved by small scale
excavation and flotation of a number of known Neolithic sites. In
addition to these, the key advances are now in the field of tissue and
molecular analysis.
`Many of the several thousand known economic food plants have
remained absent from the archaeological record simply because they leave
distinctive traces of neither fruits or pollen in their tracks. The work
initiated by Jon Hather in London, and continued by Victor Paz in the
Philippines, on tissue fragments and their cellular structure is opening
up the entire field of tropical archaeobotany, heavily geared towards
roots and tubers (Hather 1994). Molecular analysis can now reach any
species, and the combined study of modern and ancient DNA is sure to
expand. Also of key importance are the lipids, which are not only
casting light on such elusive crops as the leafy vegetables, but also
giving new and precise insight into methods of food preparation and
cuisine. Together with protein studies, lipid analyses are proving the
best option for exploring the origins of dairying and such related
issues as the Secondary Products Revolution (Evershed 1999).
`The pursuit of the "stimulus-diffusion" model has taken
a new turn with the debate on the interplay between the spread of
farmers, genes and languages (Bellwood 2001), a debate that remains
extremely fertile for a number of reasons. The first of these is the
sheer momentum of current genome research. The charting of the human
genome is having a profound impact upon our view of the human past and
of human migrations in particular, and there is nor reason to suppose
that this will end with the "completion" of the Human Genome
Project itself. Each new addition to the gene map has the potential to
generate new hypotheses about the past movement of people. Many of these
past movements have been linked to the spread of farming communities
linked by ecology, material culture and language. The real challenge of
the new field of "archaeogenetics" is not just to generate yet
more arrows across the map. It is instead to exploit the remarkable
precision of DNA analysis to reach an understanding of what was
happening to the human communities who found themselves along the course
of one of those arrows.
`The proposed link between migrating farmers, genes and language
has a great deal of potential as a focus of enquiry, although the most
simplistic equations of the three are almost certain not to stand up to
the growing regional archaeological data. Such data are repeatedly
revealing odd mosaics of farmers and hunter-gatherers, mixes of
cultivated and wild foods, and mismatches with the conventional artefact markers, such as pottery. The universality of some language groups has
to arise from a combination of replacement and language shift, and not
just one of these processes alone. I suspect the movement of farming
itself will be best followed through the genetics and bio-archaeology of
the food species themselves. Conversely, an exciting aspect of human
genetics is its potential to unravel the complexity of what happens when
a thin population of farmers moves in on an even thinner population of
hunter-gatherers. This may involve such issues as marriage and residence
patterns, that are now coming within the grasp of modern and ancient DNA
studies.
`Much of this rapidly expanding database leads us to accommodate
both the independent invention and stimulus diffusion models, but
dispersing them in time. Detailed DNA sequence studies are revealing
that many domestication pathways are multiple, and generally dispersed
more or less as widely as the wild progenitor itself (Jones & Brown
2000). Conventional bio-archaeology is placing those
"domestication" episodes at the end of a prolonged ecological
interaction with, and adaptation to, fast changing environments of the
early post-glacial. In other words, this dispersed evolutionary response
by "independent invention" was a rather earlier episode than
sometimes envisaged, emerging from the Upper Palaeolithic. Conversely,
there do seem to be episodes, best encapsulated by the
"stimulus-diffusion" model, in which farmers adopting a narrow
food-web, dominated by a few starch-rich plant staples and domestic
animals, progressively expanded their range, as did their genes,
languages, and socio-political systems. Stretching out between the two,
often for several millennia, is a series of unusual and variable
societies, that make use of both domesticated and wild plants, vary
greatly in their exploitation of wild and domestic animals, and are far
less expansive than their later prehistoric successors. This is probably
a fair description of the very first consumers of domesticated cereals
in Southwest Asia, East Asia, and Central America, and other places
besides. Within this prolonged gap between the early
"evolutionary" episodes of independent invention among
broad-spectrum feeders, and later "revolutionary" episodes of
stimulus-diffusion by narrow food-web farmers, we might expect to see
significant changes in our narrative. It is in a series of long,
ecologically diverse, Neolithic episodes, that I imagine new methods of
archaeology and genetics yielding interesting, sometimes quite detailed,
and frequently surprising results.'
References
BELLWOOD, P. 2001. Early agriculturalist population diasporas?
Farming, languages and genes, Annual Review of Anthropology 30: 181-207.
BLUMLER, M.A. 1992. Independent inventionism and recent genetic
evidence on plant domestication, Economic Botany 46: 98-111.
HATHER, J.G. 1994. Tropical archaeobotany. London: Routledge.
EVERSHED, R.P., S.N. DUDD, S. CHARTERS, H. MOTTRAM, A.W. STOTT, A.
RAVEN, P.F. VAN BERGEN & H.A. BLAND. 1999. Lipids as carriers of
anthropogenic signals from prehistory, Philosophical Transactions of the
Royal Society series B 354: 19-31.
JONES, M. & T. BROWN. 2000. Agricultural origins: the evidence
of modern and ancient DNA, Holocene 10(6): 775-82.
Some studies of the transition to agriculture are distant from the
underlying change in diet. The cultural-philosophical approach to the
change to farming and food production is discussed by CHRIS SCARRE (University of Cambridge), who revisits the ideas and work of Jacques
Cauvin who recently died. Was agriculture a single global phenomenon?
Cauvin focused on the development of sedentism and food production in
the Levant and equated the Neolithic Revolution with the foundations of
modern human society, culture and mentality. This is a viewpoint that
has been energetically taken up by some Post-Processual thinkers. Chris
Scarre writes on `Jacques Cauvin and the origins of agriculture':
`In a recent issue of American Antiquity, Richerson, Boyd &
Bettinger pose the key question why agriculture did not emerge during
the Pleistocene (Richerson et al. 2001). They present their argument in
the form of two propositions: that agriculture was impossible during the
last Glacial (owing to climatic instability), and that in the long run,
agriculture was compulsory in the Holocene. Their explanation is framed
at the broadest geographical and chronological scale, and comes down
heavily in favour of climatic change--notably the abrupt transition from
Glacial to Holocene--as the driving factor behind intensification. The
search for common themes or common factors at such a general scale is of
course entirely appropriate where agriculture is viewed as a global
phenomenon. There are, however, alternative perspectives, which consider
specific regional or local trajectories as the more relevant scale of
analysis. We might, for instance, question whether agriculture is indeed
a single phenomenon, or rather a series of individual instances of a
general trend towards intensified interactions between modern humans and
their food resources (e.g. Higgs 1972; 1975; Rindos 1984). The reified
concept of "agriculture" on which many traditional accounts
are predicated is as much a target for legitimate critique as is the
Neolithic or the state. Early agricultural systems involved different
species, different technologies and environments, and were associated
with a diversity of social and economic regimes. Yet any such project to
deconstruct domestication would run counter to other recent approaches
which seek to understand the origins and spread of domesticates not in
terms of economic adjustment but as a cognitive or symbolic shift which
redefined human self-awareness.
`A leading proponent of this approach was French archaeologist
Jacques Cauvin, who died late last year. Cauvin spent his professional
life working on early agricultural sites in the Levant, and was a
leading figure in the important excavations at Mureybit in Syria. His
observation that innovations in symbolism prefigured and accompanied the
Neolithic transition was a major influence on Hodder's The
domestication of Europe (1990). What Cauvin envisaged was nothing less
than a change in human cognitive and symbolic outlook, that preceded and
made agriculture possible. The case was set out most fully in Naissance
des divinites, naissance de l'agriculture (1994), which appeared in
English translation six years later under the title The birth of the
gods and the origins of agriculture (Cauvin 2000). In essence, his
thesis argues "that it is actually in the Neolithic Revolution that
we find the roots of the present state of the human race, not only in
its domination and exploitation of the environment, but also.., in the
very foundations of our culture and mentality" (Cauvin 2000: 3).
`An important influence on the development of Cauvin's ideas
was the discovery of Ain Mallaha in 1955 by Jean Perrot. This was a
"village of hunter-gatherers" that defied the then-dominant
model that sedentism should follow agriculture: a small settlement of
five or six sunken-floored round houses with storage pits and heavy
ground stone tools designed for pounding and grinding. Such Natufian
settlements developed all the technology that was needed for farming but
continued to rely on wild resources. It was in the following period--the
Khiamian--that the great change occurred, and this was not an economic,
climatic or technological adjustment, but a symbolic one. It was marked
by the appearance of female figurines and by the placement in houses of
aurochs bucrania, both themes that recur in later contexts such as
Catalhoyuk. For Cauvin, the Woman and the Bull were representations of
deities, and revealed a new religious awareness that underlay and indeed
inspired the development of domestication in the following PPNA phase.
Thus the Neolithic Revolution provides "the clear demonstration of
the fact that man could not completely transform the way he exploited
his natural environment, his own settlements as much as his means of
subsistence, without showing at the same time a different conception of
the world and of himself in that world" (Cauvin 2000: 220).
`The primacy which Cauvin accords to the revolution of symbols and
a new religious understanding are worlds away from traditional
ecological or demographic models for the origins of agriculture. One
wonders, perhaps, how well they would work as a general explanation,
applied to other agricultural origins in other areas. We may,
furthermore, pose the same question with which we started: if modern
humans had already been in existence for tens of thousands of years, why
did these changes not occur earlier? There is a mysticism about
Cauvin's argument which invites caution. Hodder's
interpretation of the Neolithic transition gives symbolism a rather
different and more concrete role. He notes how at Catalhoyuk and other
East Mediterranean sites, "human death, skulls, vultures ands wild
animals were brought into the house.... animal death is linked to human
death, `male' dangers to `female' dangers. This juxtaposition
enhances the prestige of the social and cultural order which confronts
and controls the agrios [the wild]. It identifies the domestication
metaphor as the main mechanism for social control" (Hodder 1990:
294). The emphasis here is on the house as the centre and symbol of
domesticated space. Anthropologist Peter Wilson takes a similar
approach, arguing that as houses preceded agriculture, so it was houses
that domesticated people before people domesticated plants: "the
domestication of plants and animals follows the domestication of human
beings and is inspired by it" (Wilson 1988: 3). Yet, as is well
known, sedentism did not precede plant domestication in key areas of the
world such as Mesoamerica (e.g. Pearsall 1995).
`The notion of the Neolithic as a symbolic revolution brings Cauvin
close to current thinking on the Neolithic of northwest Europe. There is
little evidence in this region, however, that a cognitive or symbolic
change preceded the adoption of agriculture. In northwest Europe, the
primacy given to the cultural and symbolic dimension of the Neolithic is
one of significance rather than chronology. These societies at the very
outset of the Neolithic appear to have engaged in a new project of
enculturing the landscape, constructing monuments of earth, timber and
stone that indicate a changed perception of the world. In many areas
evidence for substantial permanent residential structures is slight, and
life-styles may have remained relatively mobile for many generations.
Furthermore, a number of authors (e.g. Bradley 1998; Thomas 1999) have
sought to play down the significance of cereal cultivation in early
Neolithic societies, a revision which would focus the spotlight all the
more sharply on the Neolithic transition as a cultural or ideological
phenomenon.
`Whether such interpretations will stand the test of time remains
to be seen: palaeodietary evidence from northwest Europe is increasingly
supporting the alternative argument, that the beginning of the Neolithic
was marked by a relatively abrupt and significant switch to cultivated
plants (Schulting 1998). Whatever the outcome of this debate, the
importance of an associated symbolic shift is beyond question. In the
final analysis, indeed, both Cauvin and Richerson may be held to be
right, the difference being one of scale. Viewed in the broadest
perspective, it may be entirely appropriate to consider agriculture the
outcome of a "natural" evolutionary process operating at a
global level, waiting only on the development of modern humans and
suitable climatic conditions. Yet domestication and the manipulation of
plants and animals were also embedded in regionally-specific social and
ideological contexts which first made them possible. Furthermore, there
is little question that domestication was not just an economic process
but that, as Cauvin remarked, it introduced concepts and ideas with
which altered human awareness and inspired new cosmological and
ontological understandings.'
References
BRADLEY, R. 1998. The significance of monuments. London: Routledge.
CAUVIN, J. 1994. Naissance des divinites, naissance de
l'agriculture. Paris: CNRS Editions.
2000. The birth of the gods and the origins of agriculture.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
HIGGS, E.S. (ed.). 1972. Papers in economic prehistory. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
1975. Palaeoeconomy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
HODDER, I. 1990. The domestication of Europe. Oxford: Blackwell.
PEARSALL, D.M. 1995. Domestication and agriculture in the New World
tropics, in T.D. Price & A.B. Gebauer (ed.), Last hunters, first
farmers. New perspectives on the prehistoric transition to agriculture:
157-92. Santa Fe (NM): School of American Research Press.
RICHERSON, P.J., R. BOYD & R.L. BETTINGER. 2001. Was
agriculture impossible during the Pleistocene but mandatory during the
Holocene? A climate change hypothesis, American Antiquity 66: 387-411.
RINDOS, D. 1984. The origins of agriculture: an evolutionary
perspective. London: Academic Press.
SCHULTING, R.J. 1998. Slighting the sea: stable isotope evidence
for the transition to farming in northwestern Europe, Documenta
Praehistorica 25: 203-18.
THOMAS, J. 1999. Understanding the Neolithic. London: Routledge
WILSON, P.J. 1988. The domestication of the human species. New
Haven (CT): Yale University Press.
LEE NEWSOM (Penn State University) provides a more detailed
analysis of the regional scale of analysis. She comments on the
developments of research in early Agriculture in the eastern and central
United States of America, where surprising evidence has demonstrated the
origins of important crops, such as gourds, sunflowers and chenopodium,
in several different centres. Problems of taxonomy, pollen data, dating,
and reliance on present day specimens to understand ancient samples are
discussed. She writes:
`Eastern North America has been recognized as an independent centre
of plant domestication, where the timing and trajectory of domestication
and the circumstances behind food producing economies are fairly well
understood. I emphasize new developments and recent controversies
concerning this region.
`Among the earliest plants from archaeological sites in eastern
North America are gourds of the genus Cucurbita. Once characterized as
exotic domesticates from Mexico, these were ultimately recognized as
part of the native flora. That they derive from indigenous wild stock is
supported by biosystematics, genetic, and isozyme data, as well as seeds
from north Florida greater than 12,000 years of age. Together this
evidence demonstrates a lengthy independent history in eastern North
America (Decker-Walters et al. 1993; Newsom et al. 1993; Wilson et al.
1992). An increasing number of early to mid-Holocene cucurbit
identifications have been reported and Fritz (1999) suggests they
represent the earliest cultivated plants in the region. Of particular
interest is whether Cucurbita identified from Maine and Pennsylvania
might be an indication of the former natural range of the genus, or
signifies gourds cultivated beyond that range. The identity of the early
gourds, i.e. the wild ancestor of later domesticated C. pepo ssp.
ovifera in the region, has been linked to ssp. ovifera var. ozarkana.
Recently, there has been a call also to reconsider ssp. fraterna (Sanjur
et al. 2002) of northeast Mexico as the progenitor. I suspect the
situation will prove complex, with perhaps the Florida Cucurbita as part
of gulf coastal developments (possibly including northeastern Mexico),
separate from var. ozarkana and the Phillips Spring and other
mid-continental archaeological gourds.
`Aside from gourds, at the epicentre of agriculture origins is a
suite of weedy annuals variously cultivated and domesticated by at least
the 3rd millennium BC in the Midwest (Fritz 1994; 1995). The earliest of
these appear to have been sunflower (Helianthus annuus var. macrocarpus)
and sumpweed (Iva annua var. macrocarpa), followed somewhat later and in
some places by chenopod (Chenopodium sp. [considered C. berlandieri ssp.
jonesianum]). By this time there is considerable evidence that Cucurbita
pepo was domesticated and cultivated widely as a food or container crop.
Less clear is the status of other plants--erect knotweed (Polygonum erectum), little barley (Hordium pusillum), maygrass (Phalaris
caroliniana)--among others. However, the conditions of their occurrence
and other criteria suggest they were part of this emerging horticultural
tradition. All of this interaction represents indigenous developments
and innovations, long recognized as a local trajectory of domestication
comprising an independent centre of domestication and agricultural
origins (Smith 1992). The later appearance and spread of the tropical
cultigen maize, among others, has been clarified with new AMS dates of
particular specimens together with isotopic evidence. The earliest known
maize dates to c. 2000 years ago (Illinois), and an increasingly
widespread presence is documented for the succeeding Middle to Late
Woodland periods (McElrath et al. 2002), followed by the transition to
maize (maize, beans, squash) agriculture. (Claims for earlier maize
based on pollen are tenuous, largely for the reasons outlined by
Crawford et al. 1997 and Eubanks 1997.)
`Away from the Midwest, maize and the weedy domesticates'
presence varies, although cucurbit remains are commonly reported. For
any given location, whether and when specific taxa were grown or
achieved prominence appears to be highly dependent upon local ecology
and social-political dynamics. In some areas wild plant resources seem
to have been intensively managed; even the Calusa of South Florida
maintained gardens with gourds, papayas, and peppers. The evidence for
widespread, ancient but varied cultivation systems is very provocative.
`The status of eastern North America as an independent centre of
plant domestication has been challenged by Lentz et al. (2001), after
their discovery of apparently domesticated sunflower from southern
Mexico. Believing, unlike me, that multiple domestication events are
unlikely, they question the status of North American archaeological
sunflower, as well as the reality of an independent centre of
domestication, citing problems with measurements from carbonized
specimens, relative ages of specimens, and recent molecular data on
extant sunflower populations. Their argument is problematic focused as
it is on one seed and achene of a single taxon. Lentz et al. seem
unaware of the complete body of data regarding the eastern domesticates,
the archaeology of the region, and the full complement of AMS dates now
available. Moreover, as Heiser (2001) points out, the molecular data do
not negate a North American origin for domesticated sunflower, as Lentz
et al. assert.
`Vast numbers of seeds and fruits from the Midwest have been
carefully measured and analyzed; the data supporting inferences of
domestication of the various taxa are sound. Details of seed size,
surface characteristics, coefficients of variation, and so on are
critical to describe and compare archaeological plant specimens.
Nevertheless there are limitations to morphometric data, including
problems with using means (Lentz et al. 2001: 373) to compare the
Midwest seeds. New initiatives combining traditional archaeobotanical
approaches with molecular studies are therefore very promising. I agree
with Sanjur et al. (2002) and others that the only clear way to resolve
nativity and to distinguish between inherent morphological variation in
natural populations and human-induced variation in the domestication
process is to examine together morphometric and molecular data directly
from ancient remains. Also, we should be very judicious about the
classification of archaeological specimens in terms of modern binomials
based on extant or recent taxa. To specify that an archaeological taxon
is in fact that particular entity in the past is potentially misguided
as it may fail to recognize, even mask, the fact of extinction and
ephemeral taxa. In other words, assigning ancient material to modern
species and finer taxonomic levels is quite a statement, given the
nature of species. Unless and until we have corroborating molecular
data, we may be unable to make such a precise identification. This is
not to imply that we discard taxonomy, but to emphasize that some of
these discussions may be heading off into unproductive territory lacking
the molecular support, and we may be missing opportunities to discover
and discuss truly unique events. Considering this and population
ecology, sunflowers from distant, vastly differing regions might well
not be the same thing, but a case of convergent domestication.'
Acknowledgements. Many thanks to Gayle Fritz, Frances Hayashida,
Bruce Smith and Alan Walker for their comments on earlier drafts of this
piece.
References
CRAWFORD, G.W., D.G. SMITH & V.E. BOWYER. 1997. Dating the
entry of corn (Zea mays) into the Lower Great Lakes Region, American
Antiquity 62(1): 112-19.
DECKER-WALTERS, D.S., T.W. WALTERS, C.W. COWAN & B.D. SMITH.
1993. Isozymic characterization of wild populations of Cucurbita pepo.,
Journal of Ethnobiology 13: 55-72.
EUBANKS, M. 1997. Reevaluation of the identification of ancient
maize pollen from Alabama, American Antiquity 62(1): 139-45.
FRITZ, G.J. 1994. Are the first farmers getting younger? Current
Anthropology 35(3): 305-9.
1995. New dates and data on early agriculture: the legacy of
complex hunter-gatherers, Annals of the Missouri Botanical Garden 82:
3-15.
1999. Gender and the early cultivation of gourds in eastern North
America, American Antiquity 64(3): 417-29.
HEISER, C. 2001. About sunflowers ... (letter to the editor),
Economic Botany 55(4): 470-71.
LENTZ, D.L., M.E.D. POHL, K.O. POPE & A.R. WYATT. 2001.
Pre-historic sunflower (Helianthus annuus L.) domestication in Mexico,
Economic Botany 55(3): 370-76.
McELRATH, D.L., T.E. EMERSON & A.C. FORTIER. 2000. Social
evolution or social response? A fresh look at the `good gray
cultures' after four decades of Midwest research, in T.E. Emerson,
D.L. McElrath & A.C. Fortier (ed.), Late Woodland societies:
tradition and transformation across the Midcontinent: 3-36. Lincoln
(NE): University of Nebraska Press.
NEWSOM, L.A.S., D. WEBB & J.S. DUNBAR. 1993. History and
geographic distribution of Cucurbita pepo gourds in Florida, Journal of
Ethnobiology 13: 75-97.
SANJUR, O.I., D.R. PIPERNO, T.C. ANDRES & L. WESSEL-BEAVER.
2001. Phylogenetic relationships among domesticated and wild species of
Cucurbita (Cucurbitaceae) inferred from a mitochondrial gene:
implications for crop plant evolution and areas of origin, PNAS 99(1):
535-40.
SMITH, B.D. 1992. Rivers of change. Washington (DC): Smithsonian
Institution Press.
Wilson, H.D., J. Doebley, J. & M. Duvall. 1992 Chloroplast DNA
diversity among wild and cultivated members of Cucurbita
(Cucurbitaceae), Theoretical and Applied Genetics 84: 859-65.
GARY CRAWFORD (University of Toronto at Mississauga) provides a
parallel assessment of the `Advances and new directions of agricultural
research in east Asia'. Rice has dominated recent research, but
several other crops deserve attention as well. Approaches include island
studies, especially in Japan, work in Korea and new dating projects.
CRAWFORD cautions against the rather simplistic economic views that tend
to dominate cultural and economic classification of some cultures, such
as the Jomon, where their perceived hunter-gatherer economy overrides
archaeological evidence. He writes:
`The rapid progress in agricultural origins research through the
1990s in East Asia has slowed somewhat. A number of projects some
international, are underway with results still forthcoming. Key
developments are eminating from Korea and Okinawa however. More local
scholars are trained to work on the problem so I expect to see
significant progress over the next few years.
`Comprehensive reports of plant and animal remains assemblages in
good archaeological contexts are still rare in China due in part to a
preoccupation with rice. We still know more about early rice than any
other plant in the Early Neolithic there (see Crawford & Shen 1998).
Bryan Gordon at the National Museum of Civilization in Ottawa has
prepared a web site (http:// www.carleton.ca/~bgordon/Rice/), where
papers otherwise inaccessible to westerners are posted as English
translations. One of the most significant papers at the site is by Y.
Satoh (http:// www.carleton.ca/~bgordon/Rice/papers/sato99.htm) and was
only available in Japanese at the time Shen and I wrote our paper for
ANTIQUITY.
`While I was pondering how we might balance the dominant influence
of rice on the East Asian scene, Science published an issue (vol. 296,
No. 5565) devoted to the first rough draft of the complete genome of the
two closely related subspecies of rice, Oryza sativa ssp. indica and O.
sativa ssp. japonica. So much for the balance. It's too early to
know what impact this accomplishment will have on understanding rice
domestication but the impact will, indeed, be felt. This is the first
cereal and only the second plant to have its genome worked out.
Apparently cereals tend to have the same genes and in the same order so
this is a significant step in documenting the genomes for all cereals.
Detailed studies based on the results are beginning to look at species
divergence and gene expression. We might anticipate better understanding
of non-shattering phenotypes and the evolution of temperate adaptations
such as changes in flowering time. An apparent large-scale difference
between the two subspecies may point to a method for differentiating
archaeological collections but we are warned against making too much of
these apparent differences.
`A former student of Deborah Pearsall, Zhujin (Jimmy) Zhao, is now
at the Institute of Archaeology in Beijing. He is coordinating flotation
and the analysis of resulting samples from the sites the Institute is
excavating. Zhao is working to establish the Institute as a national
research centre for archaeobotany. His work has clearly become a
priority in China.
`Projects by Harvard's late K.C. Chang in eastern Henan, Liu
Li (Latrobe) and Henry Wright (Michigan) in North China (http://
www.archaeology.latrobe.edu.au/research/survey/index.htm), Jian Leng of
Washington University, and Anne Underhill (Chicago Field Museum) in
Shandong all have palaeoethnobotanical data undergoing analysis at the
University of Toronto. The bulk of the data are Late Neolithic but the
analyses will provide a detailed look at plant use, agriculture, and
anthropogenesis in mid-latitude China. Rice seems to have played a role
in socioecconomic systems in the Late Neolithic in the area but millets
and other plants were likely more significant if the samples from
Shantaisi, Henan are typical (Crawford et al. 2001).
`My own research and that of few of my students over the years have
been exploring secondary agricultural origins in northern Japan.
Masakazu Yoshizaki, who is a great supporter of agricultural archaeology
in Japan, retired and his lab is no longer operating. But the importance
of this type of research is now deeply ingrained in the north so it will
continue. The main university laboratory in the north now is run by
Hiiroto Takamiya who is piecing together the agricultural history of
Okinawa. As a former student of Timothy Earle, he is working within an
island ecosystem theoretical framework. Takamiya (2001) has rejected all
previous hypotheses about agricultural origins in Okinawa. The
transition appears to have been abrupt and took place between the 8th
and 10th centuries AD, not long after the same transition occurred on
Hokkaido (Takamiya 2001). The principal data are from the Nazakibaru
site where rice, wheat, barley, foxtail millet and legumes have been
recovered along with weedy plants associated with agriculture.
`Until now, probably the most poorly known area in terms of
agricultural origins in East Asia has been Korea. This is changing.
Gyoung-Ah Lee, currently a doctoral candidate at the University of
Toronto, has integrated palaeoethnobotany into several CRM projects in
South Korea. One project is along the Nam River while another is on the
southeast coast facing Kyushu, Japan. A series of AMS dates on cultigens
from a range of periods and contexts sets out a hitherto undocumented
agricultural history of Korea beginning at least as early as the Middle
Chulmun (Crawford et al. 2001).
`There is a downside to the attention agricultural origins receives
in East Asia. Taking Japan as an example, simplistic views are dominant.
In the case of Japan many scholars are locked into an epistimology that
sees classification of the Jomon as agricultural or not as an end in
itself. This "dualistic epistemology" (Smith 2001: 2) is
common elsewhere of course. Most, or at least many, archaeologists
accept that Jomon peoples had a few crops. So the Jomon is one of the
"in-between" economies Bruce Smith would like archaeologists
to pay more attention to (Smith 2001). For many, Jomon people are
hunter-gatherers and the crops from Jomon contexts are dismissed as
irrelevant because they are so rare. Others feel the Jomon is
agricultural because of the presence of crops. Researchers must come to
terms with the complexity of economic and social issues in the Jomon.
Until this happens, the Jomon will still not be explored in the proper
way. Studying the middle ground as Smith calls it (2001: 1) should
become a significant research area not only in Japan but in China and
Korea as well.'
References
CRAWFORD, G.W. & C. SHEN. 1998.The origins of rice agriculture:
recent progress in East Asia. Antiquity 72: 858-66.
CRAWFORD, G.W., J. LENG & G.-A. LEE. 2001. Late Neolithic and
Bronze Age palaeoethnobotany in Henan, China and South Korea. Paper
presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology,
New Orleans, Louisiana.
SMITH, B.D. 2001. Low-level food production, Journal of
Archaeological Research 9(1): 1-43.
TAKAMIYA, H. 2001. The transition from foragers to farmers on the
island of Okinawa, Indo-Pacific Prehistory Bulletin 21: 60-67. Melaka
Papers 5.
Finally, ANTHONY SNODGRASS (University of Cambridge) comments on
`Archaeology and Mediterranean agriculture', a developed
agriculture that supported the complex societies of the region. He
reveals the fact about which so many scholars, particularly
prehistorians, prefer to remain ignorant, that archaeological knowledge
of agriculture, its role, landscapes and the societies that relied upon
it, are best known now from work in areas such as the Mediterranean.
Decades of intensive field survey, environmental work, sampling and,
indeed, using the rich historical sources provide an extraordinary depth
of knowledge of town and country, farm and food. He writes:
"`In the Mediterranean world, there is still a relative lack
of attention to infrastructure", wrote the Editors in the last
issue (ANTIQUITY 76: 2), and of course they were right. But here we have
a topic which, if it belongs anywhere (a question which not so long ago
was by no means a rhetorical one), belongs to infrastructure. The
countryside, for all urbanised societies, has been a place where history
of a kind might be made, but never History with a capital H. By way of
contrast, `a pattern of dynamic and changing political worlds' (to
quote again from the same Editorial) can be seen as `the product of a
text-led analysis'. A strength of the more static agricultural
sector is that it can hardly be classed as `text-led'.
`But a paradox has gradually emerged: intensive surface survey, the
main instrument by which overdue attention has been brought to bear on
the agricultural infrastructure, has achieved much its best results (or
so I would argue) for the fully historical periods: the Classical Greek,
the Imperial Roman, the Medieval, the Ottoman. For the prehistoric and
proto-historic eras, the outcome has been much more muted. I see the
operation of two prime factors behind this. First, the greatest general
asset of Mediterranean archaeology is what might be called the
`quantitative bonus': the sheer proliferation of finds creates a
vastly larger sample, on which to test almost any theory or
generalisation that one cares to name, than in most other areas of the
world; and enables diachronic trends to be followed with far greater
confidence, aided by relatively accurate chronological schemes. Yet for
periods before an advanced stage of the 1st millennium BC, this prime
quantitative asset (and in consequence its byproducts) has proved not to
operate fully: survey has repeatedly failed to find either
"sites" or artefacts in numbers that compare with those of
later centuries--to the point where anxious head-scratching has given
way to tentative explanatory theory (of which Bintliff et al. 1999 will
serve as an example).
`Secondly, survey in the agricultural sector of an historical
society may not be text-led, but it derives rich benefit from being what
one might call "text-followed". Once a pattern of settlement,
of cultivation, of demography, of internal migration is detected, by
purely archaeological methods, it can be nuanced, modified, sharpened
and even explained by recourse to historical documents, among which
inscriptions and coins can play as great a role as texts. Sources which
completely failed to predict such archaeological discoveries can still
offer great enlightenment once they have occurred, in survey as in
excavation.
`Thus it is that discussion of the agricultural regimes in these
historical periods of the Mediterranean cultures has moved on to
secondary issues of a more sophisticated kind, many of which had simply
not arisen elsewhere, or else had been regarded as the province of
excavation archaeology. This is not to say that the evidence of surface
finds has yet enabled us to settle such issues. A good example here is
seasonality of occupation of agricultural buildings: a generation ago,
in the heyday of processual archaeology, this was a prime topic of
debate in the interpretation of excavated sites all over the world (see
for example Courbin 1988: 76-7, 157). In Mediterranean survey, it has
been grappled with inconclusively; but the encouraging thing has been
that it is felt to be one of the questions posed by the evidence. Here
too, the eventual answers may emerge from a more far-sighted handling of
excavated finds, in which palaeobotany and animal bones are given their
due.
`Rather more positively, agricultural regimes of really high
overall intensity seem to have been a property of certain historical
epochs, and their study enjoys all the quantitative bonus of
Mediterranean historical archaeology. This has produced a number of
fruitful secondary debates. Some arise from the interpretation of the
distinct rural "sites": on the establishment, for example, of
criteria for determining levels of occupation, and explaining the wide
quantitative and qualitative variation in the evidence which the
"sites" present. Others arise primarily from the observation
of the territory intervening between these locations: a prime instance
here has been the discussion of the prevalence of past fertilizing
activity, the "manuring hypothesis" (for the most recent
discussion of these and other issues, see Pettegrew 2001--a paper
drawing over 80% of its references from the Mediterranean lands in
historical times--with the attached responses).
`For the first time, the archaeology of Mediterranean agriculture
has begun to acquire faith in itself. Instead of continuing to look
nervously over its shoulder at other studies, it has a new air of
blazing a trail in its own right. Text-based studies of similar
subject-matter--Sallares (1991), to name one important but underrated
work--still have much to contribute; but they in turn draw increasingly
on archaeology. Ethnographic evidence and ethnoarchaeology are handled
more critically than in many areas of world prehistory. We may compare
the progress of work on agriculture with that of the vastly
longer-established study of Mediterranean urbanisation: which is making
the more measurable advance today? In the Roman world, agriculture has
become the central topic for work in more than one Mediterranean
province (Gallia Narbonensis, Hispania Tarraconensis), as much as it is
in Britain. Perhaps most significantly, even among the more militant
prehistorians, with their inbred distaste for any field remotely linked
with the study of the Classical world, there is an admission, however
grudging, that here at last there is such a field from which they can
learn something.'
References
BINTLIFF, J., P. HOWARD & A. SNODGRASS. 1999: The hidden
landscape of prehistoric Greece, Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology
12: 139-68.
COURBIN, P. 1982. Qu'est-ce que l'archeologie? Essai sur
la nature de la recherche archeologique. Paris: Payot.
1988. What is archaeology? Translation by P. Bahn of Courbin
(1982). Chicago (IL): University of Chicago Press.
PETTEGREW, D.K. 2001. Chasing the Classical farmstead: assessing
the formation and signature of rural settlement in Greek landscape
archaeology, Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 14(2): 189-209;
responses, 212-22.
SALLARES, R. 1991. The ecology of the ancient Greek world. London:
Duckworth.
* We have invited one of Anthony Snodgrass' pupils, JAMES
WHITLEY (University of Cardiff), recently appointed director of the
British School at Athens, in a country perceived by some as the heart of
the Mediterranean, to set a programme for his period of office. The
British Schools abroad--centres of academic research in Athens, Rome,
Ankara, East Africa for instance--have been considered by a number of
British (generally insular) academics to be an expensive infrastructure,
in place merely for historical reasons. The roles of the Schools may
have changed, but we consider them to have a vibrant and effective role
which can project young scholars into cultural exchanges much earlier in
their careers than in countries which lack such facilities. Each of
these schools has generated profoundly original research, a taste of
which has already been given by Anthony Snodgrass. The successes and the
opportunities for fresh success deserve more publicity. James Whitley
writes:
`The British Schools and Institutes abroad have not had a
particularly high profile in archaeological debates in Britain in recent
years. They have rarely figured in the pages of ANTIQUITY. Debate about
the nature and direction of archaeological research in Britain has been
driven either by the demands of rescue archaeology and "heritage
management", or by the theoretical issues raised and debated at
successive TAG conferences. This does not mean that these Schools and
Institutes have been inactive; far from it. But engagement in long term
research projects, projects which, perforce, require the maintenance of
good relations with the host country, do not necessarily oblige one to
maintain a high profile.
`The British School at Athens is the oldest and (some would like to
think) the most distinguished of these schools. Founded in 1886, its
archaeological work has, over the years, embraced excavation at Knossos,
Palaikastro in E. Crete, Phylakopi on Melos, Sparta, and Lefkandi on
Euboea. All these are sites crucial to our understanding of the East
Mediterranean in the Bronze Age and Early Iron Age. Excavation at these
and other smaller sites (one thinks of Myrtos, Phournou Korifi) have
recently been supplemented by large scale survey projects, of which the
Boeotia survey is the most ambitious. But the School is not simply an
office. It is an academic institution in its own right. It has been
instrumental, not only in providing a context for the pioneering work of
Evans and Wace, but in the intellectual development of many major
figures in current British archaeology. I am not simply thinking here of
distinguished figures in the "Classical" field, such as John
Boardman or Anthony Snodgrass, but also of highly
"theoretical" prehistorians, such as Paul Halstead and Colin
Renfrew.
`The School's academic distinction in archaeology has often
led to the misconception that it is a school of archaeology. Certainly,
it has many archaeological facilities--the Fitch Laboratory of
archaeological science, where pioneering work on ceramic petrology and
petrography was undertaken from the 1970s onwards being only the most
important. Certainly too much of the School's administration is
taken up with the processing of permits for archaeological study,
excavation and survey, as is expected by our host country. But this does
not exhaust the School's interests, which traditionally have been
both broad and liberal. Its purpose has been to support all kinds of
research into Greek lands, from the Palaeolithic to the present. The
School has supported Byzantine as well as Classical studies, and has
always been involved in the study of modern as well as ancient Greece.
It numbers amongst its past assistant directors distinguished
Mediterranean anthropologists, such as Roger Just. The School's
library and hostel are as likely to be filled with historians or
anthropologists as they are with the experts on Mycenaean pottery, and
the School's common room (the Finlay) provides a forum for the kind
of interdisciplinary conversation that is rarer and rarer in the RAE
dominated environment of modern universities.
`In an ideal world, the School should simply maintain this liberal
policy, one where the institution simply accommodates itself to the
interests of those scholars and scientists who wish to work in Greece,
whatever those interests happen to be. But this ideal world, the world
of unconditional state support for knowledge and culture, is not the
world in which we now live. Both the political and the academic climate
is more and more concerned with measurable outcomes. We may protest that
this climate is essentially illiberal and philistine (it is), but it is
unlikely to change much in the near future. The School's liberal
philosophy is already difficult to sustain in practice, and will become
more difficult in the future. Moreover, though in theory the School
seeks to support all kinds of research into prehistoric, ancient,
medieval and modern Greece, it has in practice its closest links with
departments of Classics and Archaeology, and it is most closely
identified with archaeological endeavours. It is by these endeavours
that many believe that it stands or falls.
`Here the School faces a number of difficulties. First, though its
income is small, the School has a number of long-term responsibilities,
which it cannot simply slough off. Chief amongst these is the management
of research into the major sites for which the School is, in the eyes of
the Greek authorities, responsible, particularly Knossos. Second, too
many of the School's field projects remain unpublished. Third, too
small a proportion of the School's budget is spent on research,
especially in comparison with other British Schools and Institutes
abroad.
`All this is to suggest that the principal difficulty the School
faces is in relation to its standing in the United Kingdom, and its
relation to British universities. Here the School faces the conundrum of
trying to maintain its liberal philosophy and yet adapting to new
conditions. There are however a number of directions which can be
pursued. First the School must develop a long-term research strategy for
those sites with which it is inescapably associated, principally Sparta
and Knossos. A strategy is not merely an aspiration to excavate, but an
attempt to address important questions using the range of scientific and
other techniques now available to the archaeologist. Such a strategy
must embrace survey, future excavation and a programme of publication of
all past work. Second, the School must seek to develop a number of
high-profile, "flagship" projects in association with a number
of UK universities. These projects should not simply be excavation or
survey, but should be, in the broadest sense, interdisciplinary. A
project on ancient terracing, which would involve not only
archaeologists and historians, but geomorphologists and even
astrophysicists may provide a model for this type of endeavour. It is
precisely such projects that both public (NERC; AHRB) and private (e.g.
the Leverhulme) funding bodies are currently most interested in. To this
end, the officers of the school (the Director, the Director of the Fitch
laboratory, the Assistant Director and the Knossos Curator) should have
all recently acquired an affiliation with UK institutions, an
affiliation which will (we hope) allow them to apply to the research
councils for funding. At present, Schools and Institutes abroad do not
count as Higher Education Institutions, which bars their officers from
applying to the research councils for money. The only state funding they
receive comes from a grant-in-aid from the British Academy. This creates
an absurd situation in which a major laboratory of archaeological
science, such as the Fitch, cannot apply for any scientific funding from
NERC, simply because it is based abroad. This anomaly needs to be
remedied. Finally, the School has to fund raise. Fund-raising is now a
deeply serious, professional activity, and the School needs all the
assistance it can get. This fund-raising should be research led, and
relate directly to the research projects with which it has, is and will
be associated.
`All this is not to say that there are not other problems the
School might face, or other important tasks for the director. It is the
job of the director to take an interest in students' research, to
introduce students to Greek scholars in their field, to promote debate
at seminars and elsewhere, and to maintain good relations with the Greek
authorities and with Greek universities. But good relations with other
Schools, with the Greek authorities and with Greek academic institutions
depend in large part on the vigour of the School's research.
Maintaining this vigour will be the future director's primary
task.'
* We are delighted to announce the appointment of Professor Martin
Carver (York University) as our successor as Editor from 1 January 2003.
Martin is well known for his excavations at Sutton Hoo, and it is highly
appropriate that he should take up the editorship of the journal that
gave the first detailed information of that significant site. He is less
well known for the fact that he provided one of the editors with his
first lecturing post! In the next issue we will give formal details of
the new editorial offices.
* ANTIQUITY continues its programme of celebration of 75 years of
publication. As we write we have just attended the Society for American
Archaeology conference in Denver where a symposium reviewed the
achievement of ANTIQUITY, and whose papers will be published in
December. The conference was also distinguished by a joint Cambridge and
ANTIQUITY party, notable for its Scottish ritual. By the time of
publication of this issue, we will also have held a celebration of
ANTIQUITY in the Society of Antiquaries. Part of the marking of the
celebration of 75 years of publication has been the setting-up of the
Antiquity Papers to reprint classic papers from those formative years of
archaeology. The first of these, Landscapes from Antiquity, was
published in 2000. The second, Celts from Antiquity, has just been
published and further details can be obtained from the ANTIQUITY office
(
[email protected]).
* In this Celtic spirit, we publish two short reports by authors
whose articles also appear in the edited volume, Celts from Antiquity.
ANDREW FITZPATRICK (Wessex Archaeology) provides an update on the
treatment of `Treasure', entitled `A tale of two hoards: the
Snettisham Iron Age treasure ten years on':
`The recent volume of collected papers, Celts from Antiquity,
includes two contributions on the great hoards of Iron Age gold torques
from Snettisham, Norfolk that were first published in 1991 and 1992
(Stead 1991; Fitzpatrick 1992). The decade following their first
publication has seen fundamental changes in the frameworks within which
finds of this kind are treated, as the way the discovery in 2000 of the
Winchester (Hampshire) hoard has been treated shows.
`Until 1997, the application of Treasure Trove to protect
antiquities required that the intent to recover objects of precious
metal had to be demonstrated. Reporting on the Snettisham find in 1991,
Ian Stead commented that the law was "archaic" (1991: 455),
while in response it was suggested that the opposition between sacred
and profane that this medieval law had come to enshrine might "not
be helpful" (Fitzpatrick 1992: 397).
`Since then writers, who, unlike Ian Stead (1995), have been
unfettered by the responsibility placed on the British Museum to examine
and analyse potential cases of Treasure Trove have tended to regard the
Snettisham hoards as votive (e.g. Davies 1996; Haselgrove 2001: 49-51).
For Barry Cunliffe, there is "little doubt that the motive for
deposition was ritual" (1997: 196). As argued in 1992, the broader
patterns of combinations of objects and their deposition in particular
places in the later Iron Age of central and western Europe appears to be
supported by new finds (e.g. Van Impe et al. 1997; Fitzpatrick
forthcoming).
`The 1992 contribution concluded by asking whether it was time to
reconsider again the inappropriate frame of reference of treasure trove.
Since then the context has changed. In July 1996, a new Treasure Act
gained Royal Assent and come into force in England, Wales and Northern
Ireland in September 1997. The new law removed the worst anomalies of
the treasure trove, and has led to a ten-fold increase in the number of
cases of treasure. But as it still applies essentially to finds of
precious metals, over 95% of archaeological finds are effectively
excluded.
`Recognising that there was a need to improve arrangements for the
recording of all archaeological finds, the Government supported the
Portable Antiquities Scheme. The success of the partnership that the
scheme has engendered is exemplified by the tale of the Winchester
hoard.
`Discovered in 2000, this hoard is the only major discovery of gold
objects of Iron Age date other than coins in England since 1990. The
hoard of neckrings, bracelets and brooches was reported by the finder to
the Portable Antiquity Scheme recording officer for Hampshire, and the
findspot was subsequently examined by archaeologists from the British
Museum and Winchester Museums Service (Hill 2001). The hoard, the
initial interpretation of which had been as a votive offering, was
declared Treasure in March 2001 and has since been acquired by the
British Museum. The finder and the landowner have received ex gratia awards for reporting the discovery. (See colour picture p. 310.)
`The tale of the Winchester hoard exemplifies the ways in which the
Portable Antiquity scheme is succeeding, but its future funding remains
uncertain. [Heritage Lottery funding for three years more was confirmed
in late April--Ed.] And it is only one part of the equation to improve
the ways in which the cultural heritage is protected in the United
Kingdom, as the continuing story of the Snettisham hoards sadly shows.
`In 1991, a vast hoard of Iron Age coins was looted from
Snettisham, excavated illicitly close to the British Museum excavations.
Around 6,000 coins had been buried in a silver bowl, and a separate
deposit of around 500 gold coins with some ingots lay under the bowl.
The "bowl hoard" is slightly later than the hoards of torques
from Snettisham, but the placing of the coins as discrete deposits is
analogous to the ways in which some of the hoards of torques were
deposited. But little else about the "bowl hoard" is currently
clearly defined. Dispersed through the Antiquities market, most of the
coins had been to America--and back--in the 18 months before Ian Stead
was able to vouchsafe the context (Stead 1998: 147-8).
`Also in March 2001, the Government announced the decision to
accede to the 1970 UNESCO Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and
Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of
Cultural Property. A recent Review of the Treasure Act has recommended
that the definition be extended to include deposits of base metal
objects of prehistoric date. Government has accepted the recommendation
and the order extending the definition will be introduced.
`These are welcome steps forward. But the journey to improve the
ways in which our common past is valued and protected remains a long
one.'
References
CUNLIFFE, B. 1997. The ancient Celts. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
DAVIES, J.A. 1996. Where eagles dare: the Iron Age of Norfolk,
Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society 62: 63-92.
FITZPATRICK, A.P. 1992. The Snettisham, Norfolk hoards of Iron Age
torques: sacred or profane?, Antiquity 66: 395-8.
Forthcoming. Gifts for the golden Gods: hoards of Iron Age torques
and coins, in C.C. Haselgrove & D. Wigg (ed.), Ritual and Iron Age
coinage in nort-west Europe. Mainz: Studien zu Fundmunzen der Antike.
HASELGROVE, C.C. 2001. Iron Age Britain and its European setting,
in J. Collis (ed.), Society and settlement in Iron Age Europe. Actes du
XVIIIe colloque de l'AFEAF, Winchester (April 1994): 37-72.
Sheffield: J.R. Collis Publications.
HILL, J.D. 2001. The Winchester hoard, PAST 38: 1-2.
STEAD, I.M. 1991. The Snettisham treasure excavations in 1990,
Antiquity 65: 447-65.
1995. Die Schatzfunde von Snettisham, in A. Haffner (ed.),
Heiligtumer und Opferkult der Kelten: 100-110. Stuttgart: Theiss.
1998. The Salisbury Hoard. Stroud: Tempus.
VAN IMPE, L., G. CREEMERS, S. SCHEERS & R. VAN LAERE. 1997. De
Keltische goudshat van Beringen (Lb.), Lunula 5: 21-3.
* Over the past five years we have been to many conferences, and we
plan to report on collective experience of the culture of conferences by
the editorial team in the next editorial. VINCENT MEGAW reports here on
a small, and even beautiful, meeting that he entitles, `Fresh sardines
and stone knights'. He writes:
`The past twelve months seem to have been a good year for
Celtophiles and Celtosceptics in Iberia. Between April and December,
master-minded by the ubiquitous Martin Almagro-Gorbea, the major
exhibition Celtas y Vettones was held at Avila--Spain's answer to
the 1991 Venice block-buster, I Celti, together with a catalogue to
match. In January 2002, a two-day symposium was held in Lisbon on the
subject of `Die lusitanisch-gallakischen Kriegerstatuen'. The
meeting was organised with great attention to detail by Dr. Thomas
Schattner, Deputy Director of the Madrid section of the German
Archaeological Institute, and with Emeritus Professor Otto-Herman Frey
as the genial eminence blanche. The opening was in the Museu Nacional de
Arquelogia, splendidly located in the harbourside monastery of Belem
built by Manuel I to mark Vasco da Gama's discovery of the route to
India. Here four of the warrior statues central to the meeting's
theme kept a watchful eye on those congressistes seduced by the sea air
and the smell of fresh fish frying.
`Attended by some twenty invited speakers, not only from Spain,
Portugal and Germany, but also France, Hungary and Australia,--a case,
one might say, of rounding up all the usual Iron Age suspects--the
papers were not restricted to Galicia and Lusitania. Indeed, the
opportunity was taken to review what is and what is not known of Iron
Age sculpture from the Iron Gates to the Atlantic seaboard. Thus Frey
spoke of the relations between the Celtic and the Mediterranean worlds
manifest in the remarkable stone knight discovered in 1996 within a kind
of early La Tene temenos below the Glauberg northeast of Frankfurt.
`Glaubi' is currently the centre-piece of the must-see exhibition,
Das Ratsel der Kelten which has recently opened at the Schirn Kunsthalle
in Frankfurt. Both Dirce Marzoli, speaking about the late Hallstatt
naked warrior statue found in 1962 at Hirschlanden, Kr. Leonberg, and
Bruno Chaume on the seated figures found in 1991 in the excavation of a
square enclosure at Vix `Les Herbues'--drew attention to earlier
evidence of the influence of Italian models on local sculpture.
`This influence must have been one of the invisible imports which
accompanied the trade for Etruscan bronzes and Greek fine pottery. Andre
Rapin, in reviewing the evidence which is currently emerging from
re-examination of the statuary of the Celto-Ligurian area, showed that
statuary at the sanctuary sites of Roquepertuse and Entremont is at
least of 5th to 3rd century BC date. Here the cross-legged Roquepertuse
hero-figures with their breastplates echo the iconography of the
Glauberg finds. On the other hand, it seems difficult to link this area
with Iberian warrior-figures (See colour photo p. 310).
`Hardly suprising, it was the discussion on the Iberian warrior
figures which generated the most interest. Indeed, as these turned to
aspects of ancient ethnicity, one felt that the Spanish Civil War was
about to break out again. Thanks to Francisco Calo Lourido, there was at
least a good foundation for debate in a fully referenced and illustrated
catalogue of the 32 surviving warrior statues of north-western Iberia,
the region of the so-called "Castro culture".
`Several speakers spoke of the enlargement of the distribution of
castros in the Augustan period and J. Alarcao drew attention to the
clusters of these defended settlements as reflecting tribal
distributions, each tribe having its own warrior--or better
hero--figure, an idea recently extended by Barry Cunliffe who suggests
their role as territorial markers. However, as Fernando Quesada Sanz
says, some 24 inscriptions on the sculpture seem to argue for a 2nd-3rd
century BC date--at least two centuries earlier than that conventionally
offered. Reuse in the Roman period when other inscriptions occur, also
seems likely. There is clearly a major problem with dating the Iberian
figures. Despite 140 years of research, serious discussion as to their
origin and development is only beginning. Thomas Schattner, having given
a historiographic overview at the beginning of the conference, also
contributed a suitably heroic attempt at a stylistic analysis in which
he indicated arguments for an earlier (Iron Age) as well as a later
(Roman) phase. Debate then continued as to whether the sword, helmet and
shield common to the warrior-statues, could, in fact, be pre-Roman.
After all that, it hardly came as a shock to discover how uncertain the
chronology of the castros themselves is; despite excavation in recent
years, much remains to be done before fundamental questions of
chronology and cultural affinity can be firmly established.
`In view of the trouble-free nature of the organisation throughout,
it seems almost superfluous to add that the proceedings of the
conference have already been edited and will be published in the next
volume of Madrider Mitteilungen.
`So an action-packed two days and nights with only one obvious
complaint--it would have been good to have had the opportunity to visit
some of the castros which still hold the clue as to the true age and
cultural significance of the warrior statues of Lusitania and Galicia.
And whatever did happen to that promised visit to the Restaurante Celtas
for a night of Fados e guitarrandas?'
* We are pleased to add two details to previous editorials.
Professor VALERIE MAXFIELD has provided us with information that was not
publicly available at the time of publication of the last editorial. We
are delighted to add Archaeology at Exeter University to the list of
those who earned maximum marks in the teaching assessment of archaeology
departments (QAA) and only missed a top Research rating by one grade,
earning an excellent 5. This latter grade was a major improvement from a
3a rating in the previous assessment, achieved by one of the smaller
departments of archaeology (8 people). We have equal delight in
reporting that MARGARET HODGE, the Higher Education Minister, has
promised that individual university departments will not have to suffer
the bureaucratic nightmare of QAA again.
TERRY MANBY adds some details to our cursory reference in the
December editorial to the monuments of Sledmere on the Yorkshire Wolds:
`These two monuments are separate commemorations: the cylindrical
monument is the "Waggoners Reserve" the local Service Corps
Unit; the Eleanor Cross was converted into a memorial for the local men
of the 5th Battalion (Territorial Force) The Yorkshire Regiment--usually
known as the Green Howards (Banbury 2000). All ranks commemorated are
named and depicted in the brasses, the distinction is that some of the
officers are portrayed as mailed knights but others are in service
uniform like the NCOs and men who are depicted in great coats and steel
helmet.'
Reference
BANBURY, P.A.J. 2000. The Sledmere Cross, Yorkshire Archaeological
Journal 72:.
* We have invited JOHN BARRETT (University of Sheffield) to write a
celebration of the life of PIERRE BOURDIEU from an archaeological
perspective.
Pierre Bourdieu
Born 1 August 1930, died 23 January 2002
Pierre Bourdieu was born near Pau in the Hautes-Pyrenees, the son
of a postal worker. In his late 20s he taught briefly in Algiers and he
served in the Algerian war of independence. It was in Algeria that he
began to formulate his methodology for sociological research. His
preoccupation was with establishing the means of analysing the details
of life, not as a purely intellectual exercise but as an obligation to
the struggle of those seeking to maintain their own dignity in the face
of the intellectual arrogance and the economic power of a political and
cultural elite. As many commentators have observed, this placed Bourdieu
in an uneasy relationship with the academic world that he had entered
and through which he rose, ultimately to gain the Chair of Sociology at
the College de France in 1981. None the less, throughout a highly
productive academic career he remained committed to the development of
the systematic and scientific analysis of human conditions and towards
speaking and writing on behalf of the dispossessed by confronting the
political and cultural mechanisms of globalization.
Out of more than 25 books, English reading archaeologists are most
likely to be aware of just three; Outline theory of practice (1977),
Distinction: a social critique of the judgment of taste (1984), and The
logic of practice (1990). Distinction traces how the French middle class
mobilize their resources of economic power, judgment and taste to define
the high culture to which they grant themselves access and from which
others are excluded. The book's emphasis upon the production of
culture as a strategy to maintain class distinctions chimes well with
recent archaeological approaches towards the circulation and consumption
of material resources as strategies of social exclusion and with the
growing archaeological interest in modern material culture studies. The
subject matter of the two volumes on Practice is difficult and, despite
the excellence of the translation, the mode of expression is also
challenging. That such work has gained a limited currency in archaeology
is because it develops an intellectual apparatus to understand human
agency, a theme that has been central to the early development of
`post-processual' archaeology.
It would be pleasing to report that the impact of Bourdieu's
work for archaeology has been profound, but sadly this is not the case.
Initially the reason may be thought to lie in the difficulty of applying
a theoretical work of sociology to archaeology. This might be especially
true given that it draws its empirical support from the practices and
rituals of Kabyle peasants which emphasizes their embodied actions in
the maintenance of such moral values as honour and respect. Closer
inspection however reveals other, more interesting reasons for the lack
of archaeological development.
Central to Bourdieu's programme is an investigation of the
role of the observer who first defines the system or organization that
they wish to study, and who then proposes an explanation for the
functioning of that system, using the same terms by which it has been
defined. Such procedures do little more than assert the supremacy of the
observer in the first move they make by characterizing the object of
their studies. It is the observer who has discovered by the definition
of their object the very nature of its explanation. Challenging that
position requires the construction of strong positions of
self-reflexivity as components of a more rigorous scientific programme.
The natural and physical sciences have long underscored this point, the
importance of Bourdieu's work is to carry the case to the social
sciences. Notice that if we follow Bourdieu we will not embrace the call
to relativism as a consequence of a loss of faith in objectivity (the
position of which `post-processualists' can easily stand accused),
but rather we must re-establish the stringent demands of objectivity
through a clearer analysis of our role as observers.
In the particular case of the social sciences, consider the way the
observation of a pattern of regular behaviour may be characterized, by
the observer, in terms of a series of cultural rules. These rules appear
to comprise a single coherent and functioning system whose logic is
obeyed by the actors who are being observed. The observer then seeks the
structure that is assumed to generate these rules, thus explaining how
the system is carried forward through the lives of its participants.
Various structural determinants are usually on offer. If we treat the
cultural rules we have discovered as symbolic, then we may refer to
mental structures; rules of kinship, on the other hand, are regarded as
the products of social structures, while functional rules speak of
structures of adaptive efficiency, and so on. Archaeologists are used to
treating the material remains they excavate as the record of such
behavioural regularities and a great deal of argument has taken place
over the last 40 years concerning the nature of the rules these
archaeologically attested regularities are deemed to represent.
Consequent upon the choices made at this stage of analysis is the nature
of the structural explanations that will then be offered for particular
historical conditions. Academic careers have been built from the heat of
these debates, where each participant claims to reveal more and more
about the people that we study and whom we shall never meet.
Bourdieu renders these structural interpretations problematic by
handing them back to the observer as the product of their own unexamined
certainties. He reintroduces the subjects of our enquiry, not as people
determined by the structural logics that we alone are able to discover,
but as emerging in their negotiated relationships between themselves and
others where, by drawing upon available resources and by reworking
conventions, they establish their own values of dignity and honour,
relationships of affinity and subservience, and their own means of
objectifying and evaluating the conditions of their own lives.
There is no doubting the complexity and subtlety of the case
Bourdieu makes, but its implications are startling. Processual and
post-processual positions now appear little different in the levels of
power and authority each bestows upon an observer who is content to
explain the meaning of the evidence each from their own perspective.
Bourdieu's work calls for us to move away from the treatment of the
archaeological evidence as a record requiring interpretation (the
meanings of the patterns of things) to one that invites us to understand
how the different material conditions we recover may have enabled
different conditions of humanity to come into being.
* RAY INSKEEP'S commemoration of the life of DESMOND CLARK
provides an important link to the theme of our next (September)
editorial: advances in the study of early humanity. We had the pleasure
to witness the enduring `vitality' of Desmond Clark at the World
Archaeological Congress in Cape Town, South Africa. For those who did
not meet him, Ray Inskeep (University of Oxford) records his
considerable achievements, his interest in a sport with a sound
archaeological heritage (shared by one of the editors), and the
important partnership with Betty that gave strength to his career, a
partnership that the current editors also recommend.
Professor J. Desmond Clark
1916-2002
Desmond Clark's vitality of mind and body are unmatched in the
annals of African archaeology, with few to match him even in the wider
world. He saw the roots of his passion for archaeology in the
antiquarian interests of his paternal grandfather, shared too by his
father with whom he visited `many a castle, monastery, Roman villa or
ancient hill-fort'. At Monkton Combe School, near Bath, which he
attended following prep-school, he found formal and sympathetic
encouragement in his archaeological interests, and learned the
importance of the critical approach to history which was to appear so
strongly in his later career. It was here, too, that he developed a
life-long love of rowing which he indulged with enthusiasm during his
years at Cambridge and on the Zambezi at Livingstone until 1961, when he
moved to the University of California at Berkeley. His last outing was
with a crew of old Monktonians, on a visit to his old school when in his
70s.
Fortunately, he was not good at classical languages, and so was
precluded from following the interest of his mid-teens into a career in
Egyptology. At Cambridge, which he entered in 1934, he read history for
his first two years and archaeology under Miles Burkitt and a young
Grahame Clark in his final year. In his own words, `it was Miles who
gave us the enthusiasm' and `Grahame who showed us the need for
precision in archaeology'.
Clark's career began in January 1938 with his appointment as
Secretary of the newly formed Rhodes-Livingstone Institute (for social
anthropology) and Curator of the David Livingstone Memorial Museum,
which had been merged with the Institute. The museum he inherited was a
small affair, consisting of Livingstone memorabilia, a collection of
early maps of Africa, mineral from the Copperbelt, sundry curiosities,
and a few boxes of stone implements from the Gatti/Dart excavations at
the Mumbwa Caves, all housed in an ill-lit building that, in an earlier
existence, had served to house the United Services Club. His enthusiasm
undoubtedly had much to do with the decision by the Trustees to build a
fine new museum, of which he became Director when it was opened in 1951.
He was instrumental, too, in the setting-up, in the same year, of the
Northern Rhodesia National Monuments commission, of which he was ex
officio first Secretary.
It is hard to imagine the sense of isolation he must have
experienced in an environment so very different in every way from that
in which he had grown up, with his nearest colleagues hundreds of miles
away in Nairobi, Bulawayo and Cape Town: a sense of isolation
ameliorated only because it was shared with his wife, Betty, the fellow
undergraduate he met at Cambridge and whom he married in 1938. She was
to be not only his life-long companion but, as he put it in a Retrospect
in this journal in 1986, `What I have been able to do in archaeology has
been essentially a team effort by the two of us and, if it had not been
for her input, it would not have been possible to do half of what we
have managed to do between us'. The visible part of this
partnership is to be seen in the fine stone implement drawings which
Betty contributed to virtually all his publications, from Mumbwa in 1939
to Kalambo Falls in 2001.
With little or no funding he turned without delay to the task of
establishing for Northern Rhodesia (Zambia) the kind of succession of
Stone Age cultures that Goodwin and Van Riet Lowe had established for
South Africa in 1929. Initially most of the fieldwork was done in the
vicinity of Livingstone on foot or with his own `rickety transport', aided by a grant of 15 [pounds sterling] which enabled
him in 1939 to re-excavate the Mumbwa Caves. After the war, in 1948 and
1949, the work was extended to sites in the Northern and Central
Provinces and in 1950 he published the results in The Stone Age cultures
of Northern Rhodesia (SACNR), a work that remained a standard reference
for many years.
The intervening war years took him to Somalia and Ethiopia as a
sergeant with the 7th East African Field Ambulance; a service of his own
choice, as he was opposed in principle to the taking of life. During
lulls in the fighting he was able `to work out the archaeology recorded
in the numerous exposures of Quaternary sediments in Somaliland and some
parts of Ethiopia'. After the cessation of hostilities in 1941, and
a brief spell in Madagascar, he returned with a commission to the Somali
Scouts, fitting in more archaeology, facilitated still further by his
transfer to the British Military Administration as a Civil Affairs
Officer. This remarkable patchwork of opportunities was brought together
in another ground-breaking volume, The prehistoric cultures of the Horn
of Africa (PCHA), published by Cambridge University Press in 1954. These
first two impressive volumes not only achieved their objective of
establishing the Stone Age cultural succession for the two regions, they
determined the general field of Clark's interest for the rest of
his career: he was, preeminently, a student and elucidator of
Africa's Stone Age past. The absence of radiocarbon dating for the
first decade of his career in Northern Rhodesia (Zambia) meant that
there was, effectively, no way of knowing if the pottery scatters
marking the sites of abandoned villages were 50, 500 or 1000 years old,
and whilst geological strata (river terraces and wind-blown sands)
provided at least a coarse-grained key to succession for the Stone Age,
there were, in Zambia, no obvious equivalents to attract one to the
unravelling of the prehistoric past of African farmers and pastoralists.
This does not mean that Clark was disinterested in that past.
Twelve pages of his earliest excavation report (Mumbwa Caves, in 1939,
published in 1942) were devoted to `The Iron Age culture', and
pottery was compared with material from a number of sites south of the
Zambezi as well as with modern Soli pottery. He described and
illustrated pottery from at least two sites in Somaliland (in PCHA) and
similarly for Northern Rhodesia (SACNR) where he also included notes on
Bantu tribal tradition in his discussion of the Upper Northern Rhodesia
Wilton, and on Bantu tribal legends in relation to the Nachikufan.
Whilst undoubtedly firmly committed to the Stone Age his interests were
far from narrow, and he published a number of important papers in other
fields: on `The pre-Bantu inhabitants of Northern Rhodesia' (1950),
`Pre-European copper working in south Central Africa' (1957),
`River craft and fishing practices in south East Africa' (1960),
`Charcoals, sands, and decorated pottery from Northern Rhodesia'
(1965) and on the rock paintings of Northern Rhodesia and Malawi in
1959. When given an additional post of prehistorian at the museum in
1957 he specified the Iron Age as a required field of research which,
under successive holders of the post, has led to a rich understanding of
Zambia's more recent prehistory.
From the outset he was keenly aware of the potential of
palaeoenvironmental evidence as a key to a better understanding of the
role environment played in subsistence and the ways in which this might
be reflected in the products of material culture; an interest developed
in several papers arising from exploration of the Kalambo Falls record.
The appendix on charcoals from three sites in Somaliland (PCHA) is
probably the earliest attempt in Africa to use charcoals for this
purpose.
The discovery (1953) and subsequent excavation (1953-1988) of the
Kalambo Falls site was probably the high point of his career. He had
long been impressed with Mary Leakey's excavation of Acheulian
living surfaces at Olorgesailie in the 1940s, and saw here the
opportunity for similar studies, with the added bonus of well-preserved
wood and other plant remains. The excavation itself was a triumph of
organization and determination, for it involved removal of sediments on
a scale previously unmatched, and through a complex sequence of deposits
containing cultural material of all the major stage from Acheulian to
Early Iron Age. Radiocarbon dates provided a chronological framework for
a major part of the sequence while, more recently, amino acid racemization has provided dating for at least part of the Acheulian. The
task of orchestrating the third, and final, (700-page) volume, dealing
with the Early and Middle Stone Age levels, and with no fewer than 14
contributors, was published only six months before his untimely death.
It is a fitting monument to his powerful mind and tireless energy.
From the outset of his work in Africa he sought the collaboration
of geologists and human and animal palaeontologists, and saw the early
Pan African Congresses on Prehistory and Quaternary Studies as playing a
seminal role in the development of African archaeology, both by bringing
together archaeologists and natural scientists, and by breaking down
geographical barriers and facilitating freer exchange of information
between the diverse regions of the continent. He attended every one of
the conferences during his lifetime, and regretted that, with the
passage of time, the meetings became more and more archaeological,
partly because the growth of specialist conferences tended to focus the
attention of geologists and palaeontologists elsewhere.
Although he wrote in 1986 that most of his fieldwork had been
carried out in Zambia he made field trips, at the invitation of the
government of the day, to Malawi, in 1950, 1968 and 1972, and at the
invitation of the Diamang Diamond Company of Angola carried out several
seasons of fieldwork on the Pleistocene sediments of the northeastern
part of the country, building on the earlier work of Janmart and Louis
Leakey, in three substantial monographs. After taking up his post of
Professor at the University of California at Berkeley his interests
broadened to north and east Africa, and beyond. These new interests took
him in the early 1960s to Syria to excavate an Acheulian site at
Latamne, to the Central Sahara, the Nile Valley, and the Sudan,
resulting in a flurry of papers on early agriculture in those regions.
From 1974 he was heavily involved with the Early Man/Africa Program at
Berkeley and, more recently, until his death, the on-going Middle Awash
research project. 1980 and 1982 saw him working with Indian colleagues
on an Upper Palaeolithic site in Madhya Pradesh and, on the opposite
side of the continent, studying bead-making at Cambay, and the mining of
the semiprecious stones used in their manufacture. In 1989 and 1990 he
made two trips at the invitation of Chinese colleagues to participate in
the investigation of Plio-Pleistocene deposits in the Nihewan Basin, and
even round time for a visit to New Guinea to study stone axe
manufacture. In October 1999 he delivered what was probably his last
public lecture by invitation to the Faculty of Letters and Philosophy in
the University of Rome `La Sapienza', followed by a few days with
the family in England before flying, once again, to Addis Ababa to
confer with colleagues on finds from the Awash Valley.
In the 64 years of his active career he published well over 100
journal papers, book chapters and distinguished lectures, wrote nine
books or monographs and was editor or co-editor of nine others. He was
elected Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London in 1952,
appointed CBE in 1960, and made a Fellow of the British Academy in 1961.
He was a Gold Medallist of the Society of Antiquaries of London (1985)
and of the Archaeological Institute of America (1989), and received the
Grahame Clark Medal for Prehistory of the British Academy in 1997. He
was a Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and of the
national Academy of Sciences (USA). In 1975 he was awarded his ScD by
the University of Cambridge and received Honorary Doctorates from the
University of Cape Town and the University of the Witwatersrand. But
above all he was admired and loved, for his great scholarship, kindness
and gentle humour, by the numerous students he taught and colleagues
with who he worked. His presence will be greatly missed, above all by
his wife Betty, and his son and daughter.
11 April 2002
As a footnote to the above memoir of Professor Clark we have to
report the sad news that his wife, Betty, died peacefully at the home of
their son, in Kent, on 14 April. As we have recorded above, Desmond had
acknowledged in general terms the role played by Betty in his
professional life. As is the case with the wives of many professional
men, the role that Betty filled was often unobtrusive. Playing host to
the endless stream of friends and colleagues who made their way to her
door was something not done without effort but, whatever the
circumstances, that effort was never allowed to show, though the warmth
with which Desmond seemed to invite all and sundry to join them for a
meal, or to stay for the night, must surely have taxed her patience from
time to time. Often such occasions were more in the nature of
professional debates than social occasions; and were important moments
for the exchange of information and the laying of plans. But there were
other, more professional involvements. When Desmond was called away for
military service during the war, it was Betty who took over the task of
keeping the museum going until his return, and then served as Museum
Secretary until their departure for Berkeley in 1961. In drawing, with
such skill, the stone artefacts for so many of Desmond's
publications Betty was following the example of two other great lady
illustrators, Peggy Burkitt and Mary Leakey. She was one of the
raporteurs for the 1965 Wenner Gren symposium, published as Background
to evolution in Africa (1967), whose daily attention to recording and
typing out discussions contributed so much to the success of that event;
she also assisted with the editing of the volume. When circumstances
permitted, she accompanied Desmond into the field, taking charge of the
commissariat at Kalambo, and assisting in the analysis of tables for
publication in 1971-72. She was a loyal, though not always enchanted fieldworker and once asked the writer, with some feeling, why it was
that `all the best sites have to be in the most out of the way and
uncomfortable places'. Her role in her husband's professional
life was, indeed, a devoted and active one. The double loss of Desmond
and Betty, so close together, must leave great many people with a deep
sense of sadness, lightened only by the joy of having known them.
RAY INSKEEP
15 April 2002