v^oVöi“ iJn/:
▲
Un i versi tätsb i iiiiwdwk
BerUjL
INTHROPOS
m
Ä-,
^ ^ /■ \
№
Via
Internationale Zeitschrift
für Völker- und Sprachenkunde
International Review of
Anthropology and Linguistics
Revue Internationale
d'Ethnologie et de Linguistique
ANTHROPOS INSTITUT
L/4*.
101.2006/1
ANTHROPOS
ANTHROPOS® is published twice a year totalling
ca. 700 pages.
MANUSCRIPTS and BOOKS to be reviewed should be
addressed to: Anthropos-Redaktion, Arnold-Janssen-Str. 20,
D-53754 Sankt Augustin, Germany.
SUBSCRIPTION rate per year: 180sfr/120€ (postage
not included). Address all communication regarding sub-
scription and back issues to: Editions St-Paul, P.O. Box
176, Pérolles 42, CH-1705 Fribourg, Switzerland.
One may subscribe to the ANTHROPOS directly through
its official distributor Editions St-Paul, through one of the
agencies listed below, or any bookseller.
Germany: Otto Harrasowitz
Subscription Agents
65174 Wiesbaden
Dokumente Verlag, Postfach 1340,
77654 Offenburg
France: EBSCO Information Services
Rue de la Prairie - Villebon sur Yvette
91763 Palaiseau Cedex
Netherlands: Sweets Blackwell B.V.
P.O. Box 830
2160 SZ Lisse
U.S.A.: EBSCO Industrials, P.O. Box 1943,
Birmingham, AL 35201-1943
Copyright © 2006 by the Anthropos Institute. All rights reserved,
oo Printed on acid-free, archival-quality paper
Sponsored by the Society of the Divine Word (SVD)
Printed in Switzerland
Editor:
Anthropos Institut
Othmar Gächter (Editor-in-Chief)
Joachim Piepke
Anton Quack (Review Editor)
Editorial Office:
Anthropos-Redaktion
Arnold-Janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
Tel: 02241-2371
Fax; 02241-237491
E-mail: anthropos@steyler.de
http ://w w w. anthropos-j ournal. de
Publisher:
Editions St-Paul, P.O. Box 176,
Perolles 42, CH-1705 Fribourg
Switzerland
Tel: 026-4264331
Fax: 026-4264330
E-mail: info@paulusedition.ch
http://www.paulusedition.ch
Payment:
Freiburger Kantonalbank
01.10/040.509-18
Mastercard
Visa
American Express
ISSN 0257-9774
Anthropos 101.2006
ANTHROPOS 101.2006/1
Artikel
Anton Quack: 100 Years of Anthropos...............
Monni Adams: Inherited Rules and New Procedures in
Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern Côte d’Ivoire
Steve Tonah; Diviners, Malams, God, and the Con-
test for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern
Ghana)............................................
Johannes Harnischfeger: Islamisation and Ethnic Con-
version in Nigeria................................
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah: The Estab-
lishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon.
An Enhancement of Traditional Culture or Its Adulter-
ation? ...........................................
Robert Hazel: Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les
systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est ....
Bernhard Lang: Israels Religionsgeschichte aus eth-
nologischer Sicht.................................
el-Sayed el-Aswad: The Dynamics of Identity Re-
construction among Arab Communities in the United
States............................................
John Haddad: “To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese.”
Berthold Läufer, Franz Boas, and the Chinese Ex-
hibits at the American Museum of Natural History,
1899-1912 ........................................
Lorena Córdoba: Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones
de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo . .
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen: The Urban Manchinery
Youth and the Social Capital in Western Amazonian
Contemporary Rituals..............................
José Luiz Izidoro; A Religiosidade popular na cultura
caiçara. A Pesta do Divino Espirito Santo em Iguape .
Jessica Joyce Christie: Inca Copacabana. A Recon-
struction from the Perspective of the Carved Rocks . .
David B. Kronenfeld: Issues in the Classification of
Kinship Terminologies. Toward a New Typology . . .
Berichte und Kommentare
Uwe Wolfradt, Andrea E. Schmidt, und Swetlana
Solvana; Männlichkeit und Weiblichkeit. Wahrgenom-
mene soziale Akzeptanz bei jungen Kalmyken........
Jacob Pandian: Syncretism in Religion.............
orbert Dannhaeuser: Economic Systems of Forag-
Agricultural, and Industrial Societies.......
erthold Riese; Drei neue Maya-Hieroglyphen Kata-
Irtcrp»
Rezensionen
Aijmer, Göran: New Year Celebrations in Central
China in Late Imperial Times (Lars Peter Laamann). .
Arens, Werner, und Hans-Martin Braun; Die Indi-
aner Nordamerikas. Geschichte, Kultur, Religion (Dag-
mar Siebelt) ......................................... 248
Ashforth, Adam: Witchcraft, Violence, and Democracy
in South Africa (T. O. Beidelman) ................. 249
Bajalijewa, Toktobjubju D.: Vorislamische Glauben
der Kirgisen (Julia Droeber) ...................... 250
Barnard, Timothy P.: Multiple Centres of Authority.
Society and Environment in Siak and Eastern Sumatra,
1674-1827 (Stefan Dietrich) .......................... 252
Biardeau, Madeleine: Stories about Posts. Vedic Vari-
ations around the Hindu Goddess (Arvind Sharma) . 253
Bidder, Gabriele Aisha: Bejo, Curay und Bin-Bim?
Die Sprache und Kultur der Wolof im Senegal (Chris-
tian Meyer) .......................................... 254
Bowen, John R.: Islam, Law, and Equality in Indone-
sia. An Anthropology of Public Reasoning. (Wolfgang
Marschall) ........................................... 256
Brown, Michael F.: Who Owns Native Culture?
(Bernhard Wörrle) .................................... 257
Chibnik, Michael: Crafting Tradition. The Making
and Marketing of Oaxacan Wood Carvings (Andreas
Volz) ................................................ 258
Cipolletti, María Susana (ed.); Los mundos de abajo
y los mundos de arriba. Individuo y sociedad en las
tierras bajas, en los Andes y más allá (Dan Rosen-
Das, Veena, and Deborah Poole (eds.): Anthropology
in the Margins of the State (Roland Drubig) ........ 261
Dilger, Hansjörg: Leben mit AIDS. Krankheit, Tod
und soziale Beziehungen in Afrika (Alexander Röd-
lach) .............................................. 263
Dobler, Gregor: Bedürfnisse und der Umgang mit Din-
gen. Eine historische Ethnographie der Ile d’Ouessant,
Bretagne (Hans P. Hahn) ............................ 264
Endeley, Joyce, Shirley Ardener, Richard Goodridge,
and Nalova Lyonga (eds.): New Gender Studies from
Cameroon and the Caribbean (Ute Röschenthaler) . . 267
Fikentscher, Wolfgang: Culture, Law, and Economics.
Three Berkeley Lectures (Wolfgang Reinhard) .... 268
Finlayson, Clive: Neanderthals and Modern Humans.
An Ecological and Evolutionary Perspective (Peter K.
Smith) ............................................... 269
Fischer, Steven Roger: A History of the Pacific Islands
(Thomas Bargatzky) ................................... 270
Galinier, Jacques: The World Below. Body and Cos-
mos in Otomi Indian Ritual (Brigitte Wiesenbauer) . 271
Gardner, Peter M.: Bicultural Versatility as a Frontier
Adaptation among Paliyan Foragers of South India (Ul-
rich Demmer) ......................................... 272
Gavin, Traude: Iban Ritual Textiles (Mattiebelle Git-
tinger) .............................................. 273
Glowczewski, Barbara : Rêves en colère avec les
Aborigènes australiens. Alliances aborigènes dans le
Nord-Ouest australien (Pascale Bonnemère) ............ 274
3
9
21
37
55
81
99
111
123
145
159
169
179
203
221
229
233
238
247
Goodenough, Ward H.: Under Heaven’s Brow. Pre-
Christian Religious Tradition in Chuuk (Corinna
Erckenbrecht) ,....................................
Grijp, Paul van der: Identity and Development. Ton-
gan Culture, Agriculture, and the Perenniality of the
Gift (Karen Sykes) ................................
Gufler, Hermann: Affliction and Moral Order. Con-
versations in Yambaland (Cameroon) (Jiirg Schnei-
der) ..............................................
Giitl, Clemens (Hrsg.): “Adieu ihr lieben Schwarzen.”
Gesammelte Schriften des Tiroler Afrika-Missionars
Franz Mayr (1865-1914) (Anton Quack) ..............
Halperin-Kaddari, Ruth: Women in Israel. A State of
Their Own (Orit Kamir) ............................
Hyland, Sabine: The Jesuit and the Incas. The Extra-
ordinary Life of Padre Bias Valera, S.J. (Kerstin No-
wack) .............................................
Kapfer, Reinhard: Die Frauen von Maroua. Liebe,
Sexualität und Heirat in Nordkamerun (Godula Ko-
sack) .............................................
Kasten, Erich (ed.): People and the Land. Pathways to
Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia (Ludger Müller-Wille)
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Properties of Culture - Culture
of Property. Pathways to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia
(Ludger Müller-Wille) .............................
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Rebuilding Identities. Pathways to
Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia (Ludger Müller-Wille)
Ketan, Joseph: The Name Must Not Go Down. Polit-
ical Competition and State-Society Relations in Mount
Hagen, Papua New Guinea (Roland Seib) .............
Knaap, Gerrit, and Heather Sutherland: Monsoon
Traders. Ships, Skippers, and Commodities in Eigh-
teenth-Century Makassar (Martin Rössler) ..........
Knauft, Bruce M.: Critically Modern. Alternatives,
Alterities, Anthropologies (Franciszek M. Rosihski) .
Koch-Grünberg, Theodor: Die Xingu-Expedition
(1898-1900). Ein Forschungstagebuch (Maria Susana
Cipolletti) .......................................
Komter, Aafke E.: Social Solidarity and the Gift (Cele
Otnes) ............................................
Kraus, Michael: Bildungsbürger im Urwald. Die deut-
sche ethnologische Amazonienforschung (1884-1929)
(Gabriele Brandhuber) .............................
Kraus, Wolfgang: Islamische Stammesgesellschaften.
Tribale Identitäten im Vorderen Orient in sozialanthro-
pologischer Perspektive (Burkhard Ganzer) .........
Kremling, Verena: Zu kalt um aufzustehen? Einflüsse
von Identität und Weltbild auf die Entwicklungszusam-
menarbeit mit Fulbe-Viehhaltem im Liptako (Burkina
Faso) (Frank Kränke) ..............................
Lange, Dierk: Ancient Kingdoms of West Africa.
Africa-Centred and Canaanite-Israelite Perspectives
(Detlef Gronenborn) ...............................
Lanik, Monika: Freie Bürger und Freimaurerinnen.
Lokalpolitik am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts (Annemarie
Gronover) .........................................
McCann, James C.: Maize and Grace. Africa’s En-
counter with a New World Crop, 1500-2000. (T. O.
Beidelman) ........................................
MacClancy, Jeremy (ed.): Exotic No More. Anthro-
pology on the Front Lines (Markus Müller) .........
McKnight, David: Going the Whiteman’s Way. Kin-
ship and Marriage among Australian Aborigines (Kim
de Rijke) .........................................
Wvx\ri \TwA
Marx, Christoph: Geschichte Afrikas. Von 1800 bis
zur Gegenwart (Wilhelm J. G. Mbhlig) ................ 306
Mauze, Marie, Michael E. Harkin, and Sergei Kan
(eds.): Coming to Shore. Northwest Coast Ethnology,
Traditions, and Visions (Alexandra V. Roth) ......... 308
Merry, Sally Engle, and Donald Brenneis (eds.): Law
and Empire in the Pacific. Fiji and Hawai’i (James
Turner) ............................................. 310
Michels, Stefanie: Imagined Power Contested. Ger-
mans and Africans in the Upper Cross River Area of
Cameroon, 1887-1915 (Ute Roschenthaler) ............... 311
Murray, Colin, and Peter Sanders: Medicine Murder
in Colonial Lesotho. The Anatomy of a Moral Crisis
(Rita Schafer) ........................................ 312
Ntukula, Mary, and Rita Liljestrom (eds.): Umlea-
vyo - The Dilemma of Parenting (Rita Schafer) ... 313
Pellow, Deborah: Landlords and Lodgers. Socio-Spatial
Organization in an Accra Community (Katja Werth-
mann) ................................................. 315
Peterson, Derek R.: Creative Writing. Translation,
Bookkeeping, and the Work of Imagination in Colonial
Kenya (T. O. Beidelman) ............................... 316
Rabben, Linda: Brazil’s Indians and the Onslaught
of Civilization. The Yanomami and the Kayapo (Peter
Schroder) ............................................. 318
Riese, Berthold (Hrsg.): Crónica Mexicayotl. Die
Chronik des Mexikanertums des Alonso Franco, des
Hernando de Alvarado Tezozomoc und des Domingo
Francisco de San Antón Muñón Chimalpahin Quauhtle-
huanitzin (Michel Launey) ............................ 319
Robinson, Rowena: Christians of India (Rudolf C.
Heredia) ............................................. 321
Rubel, Paula G., and Abraham Rosman (eds.): Trans-
lating Cultures. Perspectives on Translation and Anthro-
pology (Volker Heeschen) ............................. 322
Sanga, Glauco, and Gherardo Ortalli (eds.); Na-
ture Knowledge. Ethnoscience, Cognition, and Utility
(Bernhard Streck) .................................... 323
Schareika, Nikolaus: Westlich der Kälberleine. No-
madische Tierhaltung und naturkundliches Wissen bei
den Wodaabe Südostnigers (Andreas Volz) .............. 325
Seligmann, Linda J.: Peruvian Street Lives. Culture,
Power, and Economy among Market Women of Cuzco
(Maria-Barbara Watson-Franke) ........................ 326
Stelzig, Christine: Afrika am Museum für Völkerkunde
zu Berlin, 1873-1919 (Ute Roschenthaler) ............. 327
Tall, Aminatou: Das Frobenius-Institut unter Eike Ha-
berland (Adam Jones) ................................. 329
Voell, Stéphane: Das nordalbanische Gewohnheitsrecht
und seine mündliche Dimension (Ilka Thiessen) . . . 329
Williamson, Margaret Holmes: Powhatan Lords of
Life and Death. Command and Consent in Seventeenth-
Century Virginia. (Ingo W. Schröder) ................. 330
Wolf, Eric R.: Pathways of Power. Building an Anthro-
pology of the Modem World (Wolfgang Marschall) . 331
Yurkova, Irina: Der Alltag der Transformation. Klein-
unternehmerinnen in Usbekistan (Philipp Schröder) . 332
Neue Publikationen ................................ 335
Zeitschriftenschau ............................... 351
Miszelle ....................^f'mmrn*****^ . 334
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes A.t” Ldi 371
/¥ '%\
I * Università tsbibliotheà *
CAA S'A
275
277
278
279
281
282
284
285
285
285
286
288
289
290
292
293
294
297
299
300
301
302
304
Anthropos 101.2006
anthropos
101.2006: 3-7
100 Years of Anthropos
Anton Quack
The first issue of Anthropos, a hefty 163 pages,
appeared in the middle of February 1906.1 From
all sides it was very well received. First of all,
as might be expected, it received good marks
from those German religious orders and congrega-
tions who were directly or indirectly involved with
mission work and their publications. Praise and
approval also came from professional anthropolo-
gists. One of these was the French anthropologist,
Arnold van Gennep, who wrote in his first review
that he did not think anybody would suspect him
of standing on the side of religious and missionar-
ies. He was well-known for being anticlerical and
himself made no secret of the fact. Yet he hopes
that Anthropos achieves what it promises. Indeed,
he holds Anthropos up as a model for the various
branches of anthropology to imitate and even, out
of a sense of competition, to improve upon it as
much as possible, all for the benefit of ethnography
(van Gennep 1906; 317-319).
A year later in a review of issues 2-4 of the
first volume of Anthropos, van Gennep returns to
his first judgement: “Les fascicules suivants de
1 Anthropos ont tenu ce que promettait le premier
• • • Il est certain, en tout cas, que les quatres
fascicules parus placent dès à présent cette revue
parmi les publications ethnographiques du premier
rang” (van Gennep 1907; 186 f.).2
The first reviews praise the goal and intention of
the new journal, which they welcome wholeheart-
edly, sometimes almost poetically, as in the case
of Paul Staudinger in Zeitschrift für Ethnologie,
a time-honored, already well-established journal.
The same was true of Johannes Ranke’s review
in Archiv für Anthropologie. Charlotte Burne was
positive but somewhat more reserved in Folk-
Lore as was Ferdinand Bork in the Orientalische
Litteratur-Zeitung. It should come as no surprise
that the Mitteilungen der Anthropologischen Ge-
sellschaft in Wien enthusiastically welcomed the
new work of their enterprising and highly es-
teemed (“rührigen” und “hochgeschätzten”) mem-
ber “Prof. P. W. Schmidt.”3 *
1 In a letter of February 11, 1906, W. Schmidt writes the
following to Baron Georg von Hertling: “... because I
wanted to send also the first issue of the ‘Anthropos’
immediately or shortly afterwards. The publication of it
has taken longer than expected, but it should appear now
on Tuesday or Wednesday” (cf. Rivinius 1981: 123). Baron
Georg von Hertling was the president of the Görres-
Gesellschaft from 1876 until his death in 1919. This
society, together with the Leo-Gesellschaft in Vienna, gave
substantial financial support to the new journal in the
difficult early years (Rivinius 1981).
2 “The subsequent issues of the Anthropos have kept the
standard promised by the first issue ... We take it, in
any case, for granted that the four issues published have
already assured this journal thus far a respectable place
among the ethnographic publications of highest ranking.”
Van Gennep’s review of the first issue of the Anthropos
journal appeared in the Revue des Traditions Populaires
(July 1906:316-319). W. Schmidt (1908:383) cites these
encouraging words of van Gennep in a review of van
Gennep’s own journal, Revue des Etudes Ethnographiques
et Sociologiques, which appeared for the first time in 1908.
Van Gennep’s review of the other three issues of the first
volume of Anthropos quoted here appeared in the May 1907
issue of the same journal.
3 Cf. Staudinger 1906; Ranke 1906; Burne 1906; Bork 1908;
Mitteilungen der Anthropologischen Gesellschaft in Wien
1906.
4
Anton Quack
The beginnings of Anthropos were not as simple
and uncomplicated as one might suspect, given
the positive" response to the first issue. These
beginnings are difficult to reconstruct in detail
even today. Nor did W. Schmidt himself leave us
a very reliable, let alone detailed, account of these
beginnings. He was not particularly concerned
with how history would perceive him. In any case
he did not make the task of his later biographers
any easier.4
In the context of his own religious congrega-
tion, the Society of the Divine Word, it was the
intention and enduring hope of Wilhelm Schmidt
to support and foster what we now understand as
multicultural exchange and interaction. Above all
else, the journal was to help the missionaries in a
twofold way, first as a forum or place where their
inestimable and otherwise unavailable knowledge
of other peoples and cultures could be published,
and secondly where they, for their part, would
have at their disposal a way of broadening their
knowledge of anthropology. The very first article
to appear in Anthropos pointed this out: “Le role
scientifique des Missionaires” (The Scientific Task
of the Missionaries) (Le Roy 1906). As a result, the
journal has always recognized that one of its noble
duties is to publish the anthropological work of
missionaries, even if this demands more editorial
work.
At first, Wilhelm Schmidt wanted to call his
journal Omnes Gentes or Orbis Terrarum - Gentes
et Linguae (“All Peoples” or “The Whole World -
Peoples and Languages”). After some discussion
back and forth he finally hit upon the less grandil-
oquent title Anthropos - Internationale Zeitschrift
fiir Volker- und Sprachenkunde (“International Re-
view of Ethnology and Linguistics”). Two in-
fluential people encouraged and convinced him
of this. They were Paul Huber, at the time the
owner of Kdsel publishing house, and the other,
Karl Muth, the founder of the well-known and
renowned journal Hochland. Augustinus Fischer-
Colbrie, a Hungarian prelate and a good friend of
the Society of the Divine Word at St. Gabriel’s in
Modling near Vienna, had originally suggested the
title. Wilhelm Schmidt had hit upon an excellent
4 Cf. Schmidt 1940-41: 19 ff.; as regards the discussion of
W. Schmidt’s life and work, especially the founding of
Anthropos, the following authors deal in some detail: Hen-
ninger 1956, 1979 a and 1979b; Rivinius 1981; Bornemann
1982; Brandewie 1982, 1983, 1990; Rivinius 2000 and
most recently again Rivinius 2005. Some letters of Arnold
Janssen related to the beginnings of Anthropos appeared in
Verbum 1966.
choice. The name Anthropos stood and still stands
today for the program of the journal. It concerns
itself with people and their cultures, with people
and the variety of cultures, and with people as they
engage with cultures.5
The journal was supposed to be international.
It should be open to contributions in all the major
languages of the world; if at all possible, the
contributions should be published in the native
language of the authors. For example, in the very
first issue of Anthropos can be found French,
English, German, Spanish, Italian, and Latin. In
later issues, Dutch, Polish, and Portuguese articles
appear as well. The editors still place great value
on the fact that articles and other contributions,
whenever possible, be written in the language
of the authors. As a consequence, today English
predominates. In this respect, Anthropos stands
alone when compared with similar journals, more
so today perhaps than ever.
From the beginning, Anthropos was a journal
that covered all regions of the earth and all fields
of anthropology. Discussions regarding theory and
methods have their place as well as broad ethno-
graphic descriptions and documentation. It has
maintained its character as a storehouse of anthro-
pological materials for libraries and institutes. So,
after 100 years it has become a veritable encyclo-
pedia of anthropology. But just as the world has
changed over these years, so naturally has anthro-
pology changed also. Yet it remains the science
of cultures, becoming truly pluralistic as far as its
methods, contents, and objectives are concerned.
Anthropos also shared in these developments. Af-
ter a few years it had built up a solid reputation.
So now it belongs to one of the ten largest and
most important international reviews in the world.
To quote Arnold van Gennep again, his early
judgement still holds true: “Si cette Revue con-
tinue comme elle commence, elle sera une mine
appréciable de documents de matériaux et même
un moyen commode pour les savants d’obtenir ...
des renseignements complémentaires” (van Gen-
nep 1906: 318).6
5 W. Schmidt describes how Anthropos got its name in letters
to Hertling dated December 5, 1904, and April 17 and 24,
1905 (Rivinius 1981:91, 96, 98). The suggestion to call
the journal “Anthropos” certainly came from A. Fischer-
Colbrie (Schmidt 1940—41: 33); this title was originally
W. Schmidt’s third choice. It appeared to him to be too
foreign.
6 “If this journal continues in the same way it began, it will
become a formidable source of documentation and other
materials, and for specialists a convenient way to continue
their education.”
Anthropos 101.2006
100 Years of Anthwpos
5
Every year the journal consists of about 700
pages with some 140 authors and contributors; it
contains roughly 45 articles and other contribu-
tions and 120 book reviews. Every year Anthwpos
is published in two issues, the first in January/
February and the second in August/September.
Looking back over 100 years, the output of An-
thwpos is remarkable and enough to command
one’s respect. Over these years there have ap-
peared some 3,850 articles, 11,000 book reviews,
plus miscellaneous items and brief reports, spread
over roughly 84,000 pages. Anthwpos has a circu-
lation of about 800 copies, going to more than 60
countries.
Over the past several years the editorial staff
and the publisher have been discussing the ques-
tion how far Anthwpos can, should, or must offer
their readers and subscribers the possibilities or ad-
vantages of online communication. Up to now no
positive decision has been reached. What worries
us especially is the limited durability of materials
stored digitally as compared with the proven 100
years of stability which a journal printed on paper
offers.
The list of editors-in-chief over the past 100
years is comparatively short. In addition to Wil-
helm Schmidt himself (1906-22, 1937-49) the
following filled that position:
Wilhelm Koppers (1923-31),
who for many years was Ordinarius (tenured
professor) for Ethnology at the University of
Vienna;
Georg Hôltker (1932-35),
Wilhelm Schmidt’s successor as holder of the
Chair (in Ethnology) at the University of Fri-
bourg;
Fritz Bomemann (1950-54),
the immediate successor to Wilhelm Schmidt
as editor. He did not see eye to eye with
W. Schmidt as he said in his biography of
Schmidt, all the while struggling himself to
remain objective;
Rudolf Rahmann (1936, 1955-59),
who took over the editorship during the difficult
years after W. Schmidt’s death;
Arnold Burgmann (1960-68) and Günter Tiemann
(1969);
Josef Franz Thiel (1970-77, 1983),
the Director of the Museum of Peoples and
Cultures (Haus Vôlker und Kulturen) in Sankt
Augustin and later of the Anthropological Mu-
seum (Museum der Weltkulturen) in Frank-
furt;
Joseph Henninger (1978-79),
who very early on helped W. Schmidt with the
editorial work and with various other tasks;
Louis Luzbetak (1980-82),
who died at Techny (USA) in the middle of
March, 2005. His obituary, written by Ernest
Brandewie, can be found in the latest issue of
Anthwpos (Brandewie 2005: 553-559);
Anton Quack (1984-93),
at present the book review editor, and finally
Othmar Gachter, editor since 1994.
25 years after the founding of the journal, W.
Schmidt tried to put the editorial staff on a firm
footing, to institutionalize it. He set up the “An-
thropos Institute” (cf. Schmidt 1932). The result
was not particularly successful. Practically and
juridically it did not have any meaningful conse-
quence; the times simply did not allow it. Later
efforts to give some structure to the editorial staff
after the Institute moved to Sankt Augustin were
more successful.7
For three decades Anthwpos was located in
St. Gabriel’s. When Austria became part of the
Greater German Reich in 1938, the editorial staff
and the Anthropos Institute moved to Posieux
near Fribourg in Switzerland.8 In 1962 Anthwpos
and the Institute made another move, this time to
Sankt Augustin. Here the staff has at its disposal
a library of over 90,000 titles and about 300
journals that are kept current. For more than 62
years the journal has continued to be printed
7 On March 12, 1962, the “Anthropos-Institut für völkerkund-
liche Forschung e.V.” was founded and on June 27, 1962,
was registered as such in the district court of Siegburg. This
gives the editorial staff a legal structure. The “Statutes of
the Anthropos Institute” of June 24, 1982, give a more
detailed structure to guide the work of the editorial staff
and their coworkers. A reworking of these “Statutes” to
make them more pertinent to present-day conditions is now
being prepared.
8 After the “Anschluss” (the incorporation of Austria into
the Greater German Reich), W. Schmidt left Austria on
April 4, 1938. For the Anthropos editorial staff to remain
in the “German Reich” was not an option. The decision
to move everything to Froideville/Posieux near Fribourg
in Switzerland was taken already by November 1938. A
good part of the Anthropos library could still be taken
to Froideville; the rest was transferred to the University
of Vienna. In 1938 and 1939 volumes 33 and 34 of the
Anthropos were still published at St. Gabriel’s, printed by
the Mechitarists (Mekhitarists) in Vienna. In July 1942,
volumes 35 and 36, 1940-41/1-3 appeared, the first to
be printed and published by the Paulus Printing Company
(Paulusdruckerei und -verlag).
Anthropos 101.2006
6
Anton Quack
and published in Fribourg (Paulusdruckerei und
-vertag).
Without question, Anthropos and the name of
W. Schmidt are inseparable, something many of
his close associates barely noticed or seriously
thought about.9 Much of W. Schmidt’s monumen-
tal output belongs to the distant past (for example,
culture circle theories or the notion that the earli-
est people were monotheists) and remains well-
protected and buried in libraries much like the
twelve volumes of W. Schmidt’s opus magnum,
“Der Ursprung der Gottesidee” (1912-55) [The
Origin of the Idea of God].10
If anything of W. Schmidt’s work survives him,
then surely Anthropos is that work. With this
journal he is assured that his name will survive
over time. Other people testify to this. Prof. Mar-
tin Heydrich from Cologne states: “If he [W.
Schmidt] had done nothing else besides founding
the Anthropos journal, which he made one of the
most important anthropological journals, this alone
would be a superb service for anthropology.” Or as
Raymond Firth comments: “His foundation of the
Journal Anthropos was one of the milestones in the
development of more systematic anthropological
records from exotic cultures.”11
The judgement, which R. Rahmann, who was
the editor-in-chief of the journal in the 1950s,
made in “Fünfzig Jahre ‘Anthropos’ ” is still valid
today; “Anthropos is only a portion of Fr. W.
Schmidt’s lifetime work - but dehnitely the cen-
terpiece ... Anthropos ... was the context which
spans the entire life and work of Fr. W. Schmidt.
9 The obituaries, for example, by M. Gusinde (1954), W.
Koppers (1954 and 1956), and J. Maringer (1949-55)
mention Anthropos only in passing in connection with
W. Schmidt’s lifetime of work; such evaluations would
scarcely last beyond the day they were published. J. Hen-
ninger, for many years one of the closest collaborators of
W. Schmidt, wrote many items about Schmidt’s life and
work, but very surprisingly says very little about the major
role the Anthropos played for W. Schmidt and the lasting
impact he has had (Henninger 1956, 1968, 1979a, 1979b,
1987).
10 The first volume, thoroughly reworked, appeared in a 2nd
edition in 1926; volumes 2 to 10 appeared between 1929
and 1953; the last two volumes (11 and 12) appeared post-
humously in 1954-55, prepared for publication by F. Bor-
nemann. E. Brandewie (1983) wrote a lengthy commentary
on volumes 1 to 6, which includes English translations of
selected sections from these volumes.
11 Both of these quotations come from written expressions
of sympathy (cf. Henninger 1956: 56). The original text of
Heydrich’s statement: “Hätte er nichts weiter getan, als den
Anthropos gegründet, den er zu einer der wichtigsten völ-
kerkundlichen Zeitschriften machte, so wäre sein Verdienst
für die Ethnologie allein schon gewaltig gewesen.”
As long as the journal maintains its high scien-
tific standard, which was one of its characteris-
tics from the beginning, so long will the journal
fulfill Fr. Schmidt’s remarkable scientific mission
beyond his death” (1956: 18).12
100 years ago, Fr. Arnold Janssen, the founder
of the Society of the Divine Word, showed great
courage and astonishing foresight. He supported
Anthropos wholeheartedly. At the time Anthropos
was a daring and remarkable undertaking. It was
surely unusual that a priest, Fr. W. Schmidt, quite
unknown in the scientific world, took it upon him-
self to start a journal, which wanted to join its
voice to the international anthropological dialogue.
In addition, W. Schmidt was a self-educated man
as far as anthropology was concerned; he belonged
to a quite young, relatively unknown Catholic mis-
sionary congregation, the Society of the Divine
Word. It was this Society which supported this
journal by supplying it with the financial means
and with personnel for 100 years. In this it stands
alone among all the other mission sending congre-
gations. It belongs to its understanding of itself as
missionary, to its charism, to foster a comprehen-
sive understanding of cultures. For this it deserves
thanks and recognition.
Anthropos has remained true to its name. From
its beginning until the present it has been con-
cerned with people and their cultures, with people
and the variety of cultures, with people as they
engage with cultures. A journal that has the science
of cultures as its program also concerns itself with
the exchange and encounter between cultures in
the best way possible. This journal will be useful in
the future; so we hope and believe that Anthropos
has a future.13
12 “Der Anthropos ist nur ein Teil des Lebenswerkes von P. W.
Schmidt - jedoch das Kernstück ... Anthropos war ...
der Rahmen, der das gesamte Lebenswerk P. W. Schmidts
umspannte. Solange die Zeitschrift die wissenschaftliche
Höhe wahren wird, die ihr vom Beginn an eigen war, ...
solange wird sie P. Schmidts einzigartige wissenschaftliche
Sendung über seinen Tod hinaus erfüllen.”
13 The reader’s attention is called to two other contributions
prepared by the editors on the occasion of the jubilee cele-
brating 100 years of continuous publication of the Anthro-
pos: “The Encounter between Religions and Cultures. 100
Years of Anthropos - International Review of Anthropology
and Linguistics” (Gächter 2005) and “Von Missionaren für
Missionare - 100 Jahre Anthropos” (Quack 2006).
Anthropos 101.2006
7
100 Years of Anthropos
References Cited
Bork, Ferdinand
1908 Review of “Anthropos 2.1907.” Orientalische Littera-
tur-Zeitung 11.1908:466-469.
Bornemann, Fritz
1982 P. Wilhelm Schmidt S.V.D., 1868-1954. Romae: Apud
Collegium Verbi Divini. (Analecta, 59)
Brandewie, Ernest
1982 Wilhelm Schmidt; A Closer Look. Anthropos 77.1982:
151-162.
1983 Wilhelm Schmidt and the Origin of the Idea of God.
Lanham: University Press of America.
1990 When Giants Walked the Earth. The Life and Times
of Wilhelm Schmidt SVD. Fribourg: University Press
Fribourg Switzerland. (Studia Institut! Anthropos, 44)
2005 Fr. Louis J. Luzbetak (1918-2005). Anthropos 100.
2005:553-559.
Burne, Charlotte S.
1906 Review of “Anthropos 1.1906/1-2.” Folk-Lore 17.1906:
256.
Gächter, Othmar
2005 The Encounter between Religions and Cultures. 100
Years of Anthropos - International Review of Anthro-
pology and Linguistics. Verbum SVD 46.2005: 193-205.
Gusinde, Martin
1954 Wilhelm Schmidt, S.V.D., 1868-1954. American An-
thropologist 56.1954: 868-870.
Henninger, Joseph
1956 p. Wilhem Schmidt S.V.D. (1868-1954). Eine biogra-
phische Skizze. Anthropos 51.1956: 19-60.
1968 Schmidt, Wilhelm. In: D. L. Sills (ed.), International
Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences; vol. 14: 56-58.
New York: The Macmillan Company & The Free Press.
1979a P. Wilhelm Schmidt SVD (1868-1954). 25 Jahre nach
seinem Tod. Anthropos 74.1979: 1-5.
1979b P. Wilhelm Schmid SVD (1868-1954). Einiges über
sein Leben und sein Werk. Verbum SVD 20.1979: 345-
362.
1987 Wilhelm Schmidt (1868-1954). In; EncRel(E) 13: US-
US.
Janssen, Arnold
1966 Aus Briefen: Die Anfänge des Anthropos. Hrsg, von
F. Bomemann. Verbum 8.1966: 121-148.
Köppers, Wilhelm
1954 Professor Pater Wilhelm Schmidt t- Mitteilungen der
Anthropologischen Gesellschaft in Wien 88.1954:87-
96
1956 Professor Pater Wilhelm Schmidt t- Eine Würdigung
seines Lebenswerkes. Anthropos 51: 61 — 80.
Le Roy, Alexandre
1906 Le rôle scientifique des Missionnaires. Anthropos
1.1906:3-10.
Marlnger, Johannes
1949-55 P. Wilhelm Schmidt S.V.D., 1868-1954. Monu-
menta Serica 14.1949-55:588-591.
Mitteilungen der Anthropologischen Gesellschaft in Wien
1906 Review of “Anthropos. Internationale Zeitschrift für
Völker- und Sprachenkunde 1.1906/1.” Mitteilungen
der Anthropologischen Gesellschaft in Wien 36.1906:
155.
Quack, Anton
2006 Von Missionaren für Missionare - 100 Jahre Anthropos.
Anregung 58.2006: 66-71.
Rahmann, Rudolf
1956 Fünfzig Jahre “Anthropos”. Anthropos 51.1956: 1-18.
Ranke, Johannes
1906 Review of “Anthropos 1.1906/1 -2.” Archiv für Anthro-
pologie 5.1906: 279-280.
Rivinius, Karl Josef
1981 Die Anfänge des “Anthropos”. Briefe von P. Wilhelm
Schmidt an Georg Freiherm von Hertling aus den
Jahren 1904 bis 1908 und andere Dokumente. Sankt
Augustin: Steyler Verlag. (Veröffentlichungen des Mis-
sionspriesterseminars St. Augustin, 32)
2000 Schmidt, Wilhelm SVD. In; F. W. Bautz (Hrsg.), Bio-
graphisch-bibliographisches Kirchenlexikon 17: 1231 —
1246.
2005 Im Dienst der Mission und der Wissenschaft. Zur
Entstehungsgeschichte der Zeitschrift Anthropos. Fri-
bourg: Academie Press Fribourg Switzerland. (Studia
Instituti Anthropos, 51)
Schmidt, Wilhelm
1908 Review of “Revue des Etudes Ethnographiques et So-
ciologiques 1.1908/1.” Anthropos 3.1908: 383-384.
1912-1955 Der Ursprung der Gottesidee. 12 Bde. Münster:
Aschendorffsche Verlagsbuchhandlung.
1932 Die Errichtung des “Anthropos-Institutes”. Anthropos
27.1932: 275-277.
1940-41 Erinnerungen. 8 Vorträge zur Gründung des Anthro-
pos. Froideville. [Unveröffentlichtes Manuskript]
Staudinger, Paul
1906 Review of “Anthropos 1.1906/1.” Zeitschrift für Ethno-
logie 38.1906:806-808.
van Gennep, Arnold
1906 Review of ‘Anthropos - Revue International d’ethno-
logie et de linguistique.” Revue des Traditions Populai-
res 21.1906:316-319.
1907 Review of “Anthropos, revue internationale d’Ethno-
logie et de Linguistique, 1906, fase. 2-4.” Revue des
Traditions Populaires 22.1907: 186-187.
Anthropos 101.2006
Studia Series
of the Anthropos Institute
Ethnological research has
changed dramatically in
recent years. The unremit-
ting spread of Western
industrial civilization has
lead to a devaluation of
regional and local cultures.
As a result, the Anthropos
Institute has taken on the
task of promoting the
preservation of surviving
cultures and languages,
in order to accentuate the
diversity of creation and to
recognize the basic right
of mankind to cultural
self-determination.
The Studia series would
like to foster and contrib-
ute to the investigation
and preservation of cul-
tures. Works published
in this series are mono-
graphs of ethnological
and religious-ethnologi-
cal character, be they
dissertations or other
independent results of
research. Manuscripts are
welcomed. They will be
read and, if appropriate,
accepted for publication.
Manuscripts should be sent to
Anthropos Institut
Arnold-Janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
Anthropos
101.2006: 9-19
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials
in Canton Bo, Southwestern Cote d’Ivoire
Monni Adams
Abstract. - Three trials that occurred in Canton Bo (south-
western Côte d’Ivoire) in the 1980s illustrate the “semi-
autonomous field” analyzed by the legal anthropologist, S. F.
Moore (1978): a small social unit that internally can generate
rules and induce compliance, but is vulnerable to national laws
and political links with the larger, encompassing society. The
trials in Canton Bo concerning traditional issues: bridewealth,
incest, and sorcery, illustrated the flexible ways the elders
settled the issues, while retaining a high degree of autonomy
within the nation state. [Ivory Coast, Bo trials, bridewealth,
incest, mundane sorcery]
Monni Adams, Dr., Research Associate of the Peabody Mu-
seum; former professor of Art and Anthropology, Harvard
University. - Her publications include: “To Deny Death: Suc-
cession Rites among the Wè/Guéré, Canton Boo, Western Côte
d Ivoire” {Zeitschriftfür Ethnologie 1992); “Négociations entre
hommes et femmes dans un village ivoirien (Keibli, canton
Boo, région Wè)” (Journal des Africanistes 1994); see also
References Cited.
Introduction
Within living memory, elders of the Bo
istrative district (Canton) in southwestern o e
d’Ivoire, have reassembled their communities in
response to major changes in their relations wit
new external authorities. The first and cataclysmic
set of changes came with the impact of the Frenc
military and subsequent colonial administration
(effectively 1920); the second set occurred after
independence in 1960, as Bo (Fr. Boo) villagers
experienced the rule and expanded economic e
fects of their nation-state, Cote d’Ivoire. Bo peop e
brought to these experiences normative princip es
developed from an earlier way of life during which
Bo village leaders were autonomous.
I was initially attracted to the people of Canton
Bo because of their conservatism, especially in not
allowing religious proselytizers to function there
and for continuing an active practice of masked
festivals. While I conducted ethnographic research
in this community in the 1980s, however, I became
impressed with the elders’ keen awareness of the
Ivorian state authorities and how flexible they were
in handling violations of traditional social rules
within the legal boundaries of the nation-state. In
order to assess how the elders were taking account
of the political changes that have challenged their
autonomy, I describe in this article the issues and
procedures in three trials concerning violations
of the inherited moral code regarding payment
of bridewealth, violence over incest, and sorcery,
based on my observations and the local people’s
accounts.1
1 Thanks to two Fulbright research grants, I conducted
research among the Bo people during 1984-86 and 1989-
90. In addition to observation, my information came from
conversations in French with Inaï Gabriel, a highly regard-
ed, retired politician, two other prominent elders: Basse!
Alphonse, and Keii Daniel, one of the judges in the
bridewealth trial, a few other adult members of the com-
munity, a young guide and translator, Honoré, and other
youths home on vacation from high school or jobs in the
city. My Wè language ability was not sufficient for complex
issues.
10
Monni Adams
External Powers: Colonial and Nation-State
Prior to 1915, the Bo inhabited small, transient vil-
lages of close kin in the dense forest that covered
the southern region east of the Cavally River, sur-
viving mainly on tubers and small fields of rain-fed
rice. In the 1920s, the French colonial authorities
gradually pressured the people to cease intergroup
fighting and to gather into larger villages (500
to 1,000) of diverse kin groups near the rudi-
mentary roads. Encouraged by the French, most
families established modest coffee plantations for
cash cropping. The colonial administration al-
so set up regional courts to settle disputes, and
banned what they considered cruel punishments
(torture and killing) ordered by the elders, reserv-
ing the right of capital punishment to the colonial
courts.
After independence in 1960, the new nation-
state maintained the restriction on the death penal-
ty and disseminated the new civil code (1964) to
the villages. Most Bo elders recognize the continu-
ing restriction on their power to deliver the death
penalty. That penalty had been their legitimate
right and ultimate weapon when the precolonial
settlements were autonomous. Since both Bo men
and women had access to lethal weapons, elders
did not have a monopoly of force.
With the creation of a nation-state, Côte d’Ivoire,
conditions and elders’ goals changed considerably.
Because families with land rights were able to
profit from expanding cultivation of cash crops
(coffee, cocoa), they needed a larger labor force.
Improved opportunities for higher education and
careers drew the younger generation to the cities,
so that the elders’ problems intensified. They had
to create desirable opportunities for young peo-
ple to remain in the villages, yet maintain dis-
cipline. Some Bo elders acknowledge that sup-
porting lively masked festivals in which young
men train and participate as dancers, musicians,
performers, and women form an admiring public,
as well as producing the final feast, helps strength-
en ties to the home village. In regard to disci-
pline, while remaining faithful to the normative
code, elders modify their severity, a policy also
demanded by the nation state. In addition they
seek to rescue young offenders from state agents
by settling offenses or disputes within the vil-
lages.
The above description of a social field hold-
ing internal authority within broad limitations im-
posed by an external power fits the Bo commu-
nity and its neighbors into the category of the
“semiautonomous social field” as defined by Sally
Falk Moore (1978: ch. 2: 54-81). This concept en-
compasses small social units, such as the lineage-
neighborhood complex, that can internally gener-
ate rules and induce or coerce compliance, but are
vulnerable to the rules and decisions emanating
from the larger world, such as the nation-state (55).
To see social change emerge it is important, Moore
advises, to inspect rules in the context of ordinary
social life (80).
Following this lead, my specific tasks in this
article are to describe three trials in Canton Bo
during the mid-1980s in which local authorities
confronted violations of traditional rules, and to
show how these issues were resolved. Each trial
concerned rules or practices, studied in many oth-
er West African societies, regarding payment of
bridewealth, incest, and sorcery. Each trial illus-
trates inventive variations in the degree to which
the elders, drawing on their historical experiences,
formulate new styles of behavior, while fulfilling
their conservative aims.
Village and State
Much of the recent work on rule-making and dis-
pute settlement has focused on active relations be-
tween village communities and an external power
(see review in Moore 1978: ch. 2). In twentieth-
century Canton Bo, the village elders have been
able to maintain a high degree of autonomy. To
create their own resolutions, they took advantage
of the reluctance of the regional functionaries of
the new state, Cote d’Ivoire, especially the police,
to deal with the complexities of offenses against
local codes. State agents were likely to take ac-
tion only in cases of murder or physical violence
that threatened community functioning. Villagers’
recognition of this reluctance is signaled in a com-
mon sardonic saying about their favored practices;
“The police won’t deal with two kinds of disputes:
soccer and sorcery!”
Another factor in the elders’ continuing hold
on judicial authority was that conduct of the na-
tional courts often inspired villagers’ fear and
loathing. In dealing with village problems, these
courts tended to render harsh judgments, giving
unfair long-term stays in wretched prisons where
the police impose beatings on inmates, and where
money could alter judgments. This mutual recoil
allowed the elders to assert their authority by
arranging for customary practices and handling
disputes without recourse to police or state courts.
One external factor that hovers over all Bo com-
munities originated in the colonial period and in-
Anthropos 101.2006
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern Côte d’Ivoire
11
tensified after independence. That is education-
al and economic expansion drew youths to the
cities, frequently disrupting family continuity and
creating labor shortages in village endeavors.2 To
maintain the integrity of the village community
became a primary goal of the elders that affects the
resolution of crimes or misdemeanors (see Adams
2004).
In contemporary Bo communities, the inherited
rules comprising the moral order are stubbornly
persistent, but the elders treatment of violations
functions more as a process, affected by histor-
ical experience and modified by immediate so-
cial and political concerns (see Moore 1978: 1-
31).3 This point is illustrated by broad shifts in
the way Bo elders handle rule-violations. For ex-
ample, in the past, secrecy surrounding elders’
decision-making was a significant feature of Bo
councils, a practice that allowed, for example,
private negotiations over allocation of land ac-
cording to changed kin relationships, and helped
to avoid retaliation against a person for judg-
ments delivered.4 In the 1980s, consideration of
rule-violations in public became an instrument of
ciders’ policy. Rather than the frightening spec-
tacle of punishment determined secretly for vi-
olations, young Bo individuals were exposed to
the course of arguments as well as public accep-
tance by the disputants of the ultimate resolution.
These points are illustrated in the first trial I
witnessed.
2 To help solve the labor problem, some elders hired immi-
grants from the states to the north while their own youth
sought high school diplomas, secretarial and tailoring skills,
or factory work in the cities. Nevertheless, these youth do
not want to lose their rights to return to their home and
family. They retain emotional attachments, family rights to
plantations, and other heritable property, plus a need for the
practical and spiritual support of their kinsmen.
3 Moore and other scholars in legal anthropology perceive
changes in the rules functioning not as inflexible dictates
but as a process, responding to and modified by immediate
social and political concerns. However, she recognizes that
in many Sub-Saharan African communities, in spite of
new state laws, inherited practices have been “stubbornly
persistent” (1978: 1-31).
4 Communities moved frequently in search of more produc-
tive fields. Land use rights were traditionally held by the
founder who cleared the forest, and his descendants. With
the shift to more long-term cash crop plantations and the
declared national policy that land belongs to the persons
who make use of it, land use for Bo villagers stabilized.
Currently rights to land can be sold. In 1990, Cote d’Ivoire’s
national program of assigning lots to family units to form
a legal basis for use reached Canton Bo.
Bridewealth
This trial concerned a suit for damages for lack
of a bride-price contract.5 It took place in Medibli
village (pop. 514), as a public event in April, 1985.
Among the Bo, as in many other areas of West
Africa, marriage is arranged between the father
of the bride and the suitor and their respective
patrilineages (here referred to as “Families”) upon
payment of bridewealth. In Canton Bo the bride-
price is high, amounting to approximately 100,000
local francs, CFA. (In 1985 the exchange rate was
500 CFA to $ 1). For this large sum, the groom’s
family pays in installments, which may continue
throughout the groom’s life. The initial binding
act, however, is a small gift from the suitor to
the bride’s father. It may be no more than a
bottle of liquor, but it is essential to formalize the
commitment.
One morning, I saw a strange wagon creaking
forward behind an old passenger car, coming
toward the village. When it halted several men
came forward and lifted a heavy burden off the
wagon. It was a large wooden coffin, closed and
covered with textiles. On the side of the road
in a clearing in front of a few trees, they set it
upon a simple wooden platform and rearranged
the cloths. In the coffin lay a young girl originally
from Medibli village.
At noon, several young men set up assorted
chairs on three sides of the coffin. A bit later, there
was a formal assembly. The judges, four elders in
long gowns and white slippers, took their place
in armchairs set on a bank in front of the trees.
Facing each other on opposite sides of the coffin
sat clusters of older men and young women, while
thirty or so young men and women gathered in the
open space between the others. Unlike the anony-
mous audience that crowds funeral celebrations,
this arrangement resembled a modern court of
law with designated judges, two principal parties
arrayed on opposite sides, each led by an author-
itative speaker-negotiator, and open discussion of
the issues.
This trial set the two leading patrilineages (here,
following Bo usage, called Families), Siaho and
Paou, who occupy opposite sides of Medibli vil-
lage, against each other. The aged Zoué François,
head of Siaho Family, was the leading elder of
the village. Several months earlier, on a visit to
Medibli, his grandson persuaded a young girl from
5 Ivorian civil law promulgated in 1964 abolished bride-
wealth, and polygamous marriage (Girard 1967: 174), with
little effect. - Text edited by M. Fritz (as of 4/15/2005).
Anthropos 101.2006
12
Monni Adams
the Paou Family to return with him to the city
where he had a job and another wife. Although it
was legitimate for the man of the Siaho lineage to
take a bride from the Paou lineage, he had made
no arrangements with her father for the bride-price.
Therefore, he did not give the required token gift to
her father that seals the agreement for marriage. In
the city a few months later, while preparing a meal,
the girl, who was pregnant, collapsed and died. I
was told that a settlement between the Families
had to be reached before the dead girl could be
buried (Adams 1984-85/5: 151).
Normally, if a wife dies, her paternal Family
has the right to demand cause and compensation
from the husband’s Family. In this instance, there
seemed to be a general agreement that the cause
lay outside local relationships, as people suspected
jealousy from the husband’s first wife.6 The trial,
therefore, focused on damages for having taken the
girl away without negotiating with the father.7 To
the people of Medibli, this gap meant that there
was no customary limit for the damages.
Before the trial, village elders assemble and
choose the judges from “those who are intelli-
gent,” as one of the judges, Keii Daniel, explained
(Adams 1984-85/6:228). In precolonial times,
judges received compensation for their services
in the form of mats and a thick brass bracelet,
the most valuable object in former bride-price
payments. Judges are now satisfied with clothing,
large cloths, porcelain and enamel dishes, and/or
cash. When the trial session opened, a speaker
from each family, Siaho and Paou, handed judges
the requested fees (reportedly a total of 20,000
CFA, $ 40) in front of everyone.
That the trial was held openly in public was
itself evidence of a considered strategy. The Bo,
along with the larger population of We-speaking
peoples, share the preference widespread among
the various peoples of the forest region for re-
solving family social problems in secret. Such
affairs are settled at private meetings among those
concerned or invited to participate. These can be
6 In the city, an official death certificate states a medical
cause.
7 In Geary’s report (1986: 27) on legal conduct in Cameroon,
one of the marriage cases involved this issue. A man
who had expected to marry a girl wanted her to affirm
in court that he brought the palm wine gift to her father,
indicating his commitment to marry her, but she denied
that he had ever brought palm wine, thus freeing her
from his intentions. In addition to this specific issue, other
considerations were mentioned regarding the trial in Bo; the
prestige of two families, and the importance people attach
to the rule that outstanding debts or claims should be settled
prior to prestige burials.
histrionic affairs, as I witnessed on other occa-
sions, involving intensely dramatic arguments or
theatrical behavior.
After introductory comments on the parties
involved by the judges, the speaker for each side
offered an account of the situation. The judges
supervised the subsequent proceedings. The girl’s
Family, Paou, began its demands for compensation
for the failure to negotiate with the father, prior to
the loss of the daughter. These demands continued
over the next two days. Tier Family asked for
sheep, outfits of clothing, other valuables, and
cash. In response to the first request, Zoue, head of
the Siaho Family, gave 25,000 CFA. Subsequently,
at each demand from the girl’s Family, the Siaho
speaker would either agree or try to negotiate a
smaller quantity. Hours passed in negotiations. As
the penalty mounted to over 100,000 CFA, there
were long pauses, while a member of the Family
Siaho left the scene to seek commitments from
household heads among relatives in the village or
nearby.
The Paou Family repeatedly raised their de-
mands; for another 25,000 CFA in cash and for
merchandise, such as cloth, clothing and dishes,
until with a claim for ten goats, the value reached
over double the normal bride-price. At this point
the Siaho Family admitted they could not raise
more than eight goats. The chief judge said pay at
least one more. Zoue asked another judge to lend
him the money he needed in lieu of the last goat,
and the judge agreed. By the end of the second
day, Paou, the girl’s Family, had obtained com-
mitments of over 200,000 CFA (total depending on
the size of the goats). As people began to depart,
Bah Joseph, head of the Paou Family, asked that
everyone return the next morning to conclude the
hearings.
After the chief judge opened the session by
reviewing the negotiations of the previous day,
Bah Joseph of the Paou Family began a long
speech. He reviewed the earlier marriages between
the two Families, the sharing of past warfare, the
cooperation through numerous festivals, and links
among their respective masked figures over the
past two generations. After all, he said, we are all
living together in the same village, and have been
friends for a long time. The Paou Family does not
want to be known, he claimed, as one who would
take advantage of the respected Siaho Family.
In view of their long friendship and many
relationships, the Paou Family, he announced,
would reduce the claim for damages. They would
accept two skirt cloths, a man’s prestige tunic, and
75,000 CFA, thus cutting the penalty in half, to
Anthropos 101.2006
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern Côte d’Ivoire
13
approximately 100,000 CFA, the current value for
bridewealth. In grateful phrases, Zoué François,
speaking for the Siaho Family, thanked the Paou
Family for this resolution. Other elders in the
crowd expressed their approval. They understood
that the Paou Family had cancelled the penalty
for lack of contract and accepted the remaining
100,000 CFA as the legitimate bridewealth.
The subsequent procedures followed those for
the funeral of a proper wife of an established
family. The Paou Family brought out cloths and
clothing belonging to the dead girl to offer to
those who had helped her. Several young women
took turns recounting the baskets of gifts they had
given the deceased at her departure for the city,
and picked out their claims from the mounds of
textiles. The father awarded customary gifts and
money rewards to his married-out daughters who
had guarded the coffin on the platform.
On the next day, again following proper burial
procedures, people gathered near the coffin to bid
farewell to the deceased. Each person attending
the event approached the coffin to call out advice
to the dead woman in this manner: “Don’t wander
around here, we are not to see you again, remain
quietly wherever you are going.” Then the mourn-
er placed a money gift on a plate held by a member
°f the deceased’s Family to ask for a blessing.
This money is divided among those who looked
after the grave, the singers who accompanied the
coffin to the cemetery, and the Family of the
deceased.
The lengthy and weighty attention devoted to
this issue was evidently due to the importance
of the two Siaho and Paou Families. What was
unusual was that the trial procedure resembled a
colonial court, offering a dramatic way of stag-
ing a contest of interests over violation of the
moral code. The elders employed a modern pub-
lic “court” procedure and proffered a conciliatory
gesture, to reach out to and impress the young
audience. At the same time, the long, drawn-out
trial was a vivid effort to warn young men and
women that they cannot run off without observing
the rules of marriage. From the perspective of the
elders, the judgment provided the settlement of
the outstanding legitimate debt of bridewealth, and
allowed the dead girl to be properly buried as a
legitimate wife.
This trial can be understood also as part of the
struggle to maintain the integrity of the fragment-
mg village. In order to convey a strong message
to the youth, the elders of Paou first forced the
Siaho Family to reimburse double the conventional
value for the girl’s bridewealth. Then by cutting
Anthropos 101.2006
this severe penalty in half, the elders made a plea
for community. On the one hand, there was no es-
cape offered from the marriage rule. On the other,
the elders could not allow the “bridewealth” issue
to sunder long-standing relationships between two
pillars of the community.
Violence Regarding Incest
Men, as heads of households, sustain the ordered
Bo village. Violent relations among men are, there-
fore, more disruptive of community than between
men and women. No one could recall a violent
murder in Bo villages. Ordinary people do their
best to restrain a dispute between men. For exam-
ple, one day in an open area between houses, I
saw two half brothers getting into an accelerating
quarrel, one accusing the other of never helping
with any kind of work. As they moved closer and
began to shout angrily, several people emerged
from houses nearby. Two male neighbors seized
the arms of the young men, holding them apart
before they would strike. Because of this avoid-
ance of violence, I was surprised to learn of an
incident of shocking brutality among young men.
It stemmed from an instance of incest.
Kin groups are organized around a male founder
of a descent line; the resulting patrilineage (Fam-
ily) is the basic unit of social organization. For-
mal marriage arrangements of the Bo follow the
practice of patrilineages elsewhere, requiring ne-
gotiations between the father of the bride and the
prospective groom. It is sealed with both a token
and substantial transfer of wealth to the father’s
Family in return for the bride. However, in contrast
to the widespread practice of first cousin marriage,
the Bo forbid young men to marry either their
maternal or paternal first cousin. Sexual relations
between these cousins are prohibited as incest. A
violation of this rule in Diboke village resulted in
surprising acts of violence and a subsequent trial in
Keibli village that yielded a judgment even more
unexpected.
One afternoon, a young man, Pueh Gbe, came
into the courtyard where I was working with a
woman helper, Inai Delphine. Off to the side he
engaged her in close conversation and showed
her some of the scars remaining from a beating
given him some weeks earlier by eight young
men from the Maou Family of Diboke village.
The eight youths are Pueh’s maternal cousins. In
anger, they had taken it upon themselves to punish
him for a sexual transgression the Bo consider
incest. Coming to Pueh’s house in Keibli, they had
14
Monni Adams
beaten him, some with sticks, and given so many
blows he lost consciousness and control of bodily
functions.
Their anger was aroused by learning that he had
had sexual relations with the daughter of the older
brother of Pueh’s mother, a woman of Family
Maou from Diboke, that is, a first cousin on his
mother’s side. Considering this to be incest, the
attackers were horrified. However, the traditional
punishment was not lethal or brutal. Elders force
both parties to drink two huge gourds of water
so that the stomachs become extended, then have
crushed pepper rubbed into their eyes. That and
a stern warning to stop these relations end the
punishment and the affair.
After the attack on Pueh Gbe, members of his
paternal Family, Winleho, took him to a doctor
at a medical facility in Guiglo, a town about 100
kilometers to the east. On that occasion his Winle-
ho Family reported the case to the regional police
headquarters. Hastily, a prominent politician and
leading Keibli elder, Inaï Gabriel, representing the
chiefs of Bo villages concerned, intervened with
the police to have the case brought back to Canton
Bo elders. He mentioned to me that the victim’s
brother was an employee of the Department of
Water and Forests (Eaux et Forêts), which was
attached to a Ministry, and “that link could cause
complications.” After recovering at the medical fa-
cility, Pueh Gbe obtained a certificate for eighteen
days of incapacity.
There are numerous rules concerning responsi-
bilities of the Family for acts of members. Pun-
ishment for incest falls on both the individual and
the Family. The trial followed a traditional private
pattern, bringing together prominent members of
the Families involved, plus a few invited guests,
assembled as an amorphous group. The heads of
the three villages; Diboke, Medibli, and Keibli in
Canton Bo, where relatives of the two Families
resided, were responsible for the conduct of the tri-
al, held at Diboke village. I was not able to attend,
but two male elders, Inaï Gabriel of Keibli8 and
Gode Gabriel of Diboke, provided accounts of the
trial.
Of course, the youths had no right to take
action; violation of the basic code of kinship was
8 Inai Gabriel had been the elected representative of the
district in the national Parliament for almost twenty years.
He is a successful businessman (building and real estate) in
the metropolis Abidjan. On his visits home, he occupies a
large cement-block house with a second story (unfinished),
surrounded in the back by small bedroom cabins, one
each for several wives who lack bedrooms in the big
house.
the concern of the Family elders. Although using
sticks in fighting between two men was offensive,
it was not in itself punishable. However, the ratio
of eight to one violated a basic code against uneven
odds in a personal face-to-face fight. In addition,
the general opinion was that the eight young men
from Diboke had overreacted in the severity of
their punishment, literally “beating the shit out” of
the wrongdoer. In the elders’ judgment, the severe
beating cancelled out any further punishment for
the incest.
The outcome was announced publicly. To my
surprise, the decision was not to fine Pueh’s pa-
ternal Family, Winleho, for his incestuous act, but
the Family of the youthful attackers, that is, the
Maou Family of Diboke. In the judgment, the
Maou Family had to pay the medical expenses
in Guiglo and a heavy penalty as follows: 50,000
CFA (local currency in 1989-90 at approximate-
ly @300 $ 1.00 = $ 166), two men’s outfits (ap-
proximately 24,000 = $ 80), a sheep (9,000 =
$ 30), a duck (2,400 = $ 8) to the Winleho Fam-
ily of Pueh Gbe of Keibli. In addition, following
an established practice of recompense for judges,
each of the two Families involved gave 12,000
($40) to the heads of the three villages for their
services.
To conclude the trial session, a respected elder
of the Maou Family recounted the rules of kinship
and marriage, and the traditional penalties for sex-
ual relations between maternal kin. He repeatedly
warned the couple to refrain from forbidden sexual
relations. These warnings served as admonitions to
all the assembled youth. The trial was followed by
a reconciliation feast. A sheep was killed by the
Maou Family and hours later plentiful meals of
meat stew and rice were offered to the heads of
the households present.9
This case illustrates the elders’ understanding
of contemporary politics. They were aware of
the potential danger of the victim’s link with an
official at the Ministry. The youthful attackers did
not yet realize the potential consequences of their
excessive violence (although Pueh’s relatives who
appealed to regional police may have done so
9 In a subsequent discussion with Inai who was not one of the
judges, I was surprised by one of his remarks. Whereas in
this case, the attackers had punished only the boy, Inai held
that, as in earlier times, both boy and girl should have been
punished; “because the girl is the instigator, the boy only
the accomplice.” He pointed out that the sex took place
in a house in the Family compound and she could have
screamed for help. “That was a harsh attitude toward young
girls,” I said, “who, in my observation, are raised to be
obedient to men.” “Not girls here!” he replied.
Anthropos 101.2006
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern Côte d’Ivoire
15
because of their link to higher authorities). But
from the Bo elders’ perspective that link could lead
to intrusive action by punitive national authorities,
and incur costly penalties.
Mundane Sorcery
The accusation of sorcery made against the planter
Zoué Zrewion of Keibli village in the late 1980s,
(when I was again in Canton Bo), showed an
innovative use of this hoary “magic” that is, the
accusation was applied to a contemporary prob-
lem. Zrewion was accused of causing the stu-
dents at the small, local school (grades 1-6)
to fail their exams. Sorcery as a set of prac-
tices has long been associated with sub-Saharan
societies. For Bo people, sorcery refers to the
secret use of objects and words to carry out
at a distance whatever it is the sender desires.
The objects consist of various plant and organic
materials having a symbolic significance, which
are treated and combined while verbally invok-
ing forces that will accomplish the maker’s aims.
When used to initiate harmful effects on innocent
others in the community, the practice is morally
wrong.
The Sorcery Occasion
To get to the unfortunate school, students of Keibli
village must cross a short bridge (made of wood
beams and supports with an thick earthen surface).
In 1989, following news of the students’ failure,
a religious group, Chrétien Céleste, in the market
town (1 km north), asked to have it announced
that the pupils would not be able to succeed
because there was a Keibli resident (unnamed)
who made sorcery against them. Inaï Gabriel,
an elder of Keibli, told the town crier to an-
nounce that whoever “made sorcery” (that is, the
material means) has got to destroy it or be pun-
ished!
Shortly after this foreboding news, several
youths, having had a few drinks in the market
town, were heading home near dawn. Upon ap-
proaching Keibli they saw a man they recognized
as Zrewion, a local planter, under the bridge with-
out any clothes on. “What are you doing?” they
called out. No reply. The specter ran off. The
youths chased after him, yelling insults, until the
specter disappeared into the bush. Later, on one
of our walks, Larisse, one of Inai’s daughters,
showed me under the bridge where the sorcerer
had planted the fetish that was “killing” the stu-
dents in sorcery, that is causing them to fail in their
exams. In this context, the translated word “killed”
(Fr. tuer) means causing the collapse of someone
else’s plans, intentions, health, and so forth, not
the physical act of murder.
The youths recounted their dawn experience
to Inai and to their fathers. When people called
upon Zrewion’s father to inform him of his son’s
actions, his father said: “Yes, truly he is a sorcerer.
I also have proof and several times he has had
to ‘beg pardon’ ” (that means admitting and pay-
ing damages). Of the misfortunes of the father’s
two wives, he said: “it was Zrewion who had
‘killed’ them.” The father’s accusation is grounded
in the widespread belief in Sub-Saharan Africa
that kinsmen have special powers over one an-
other, able to damn or to bless (cf. Moore 1978:
71 f.).
When I heard of the sorcery accusation, I
asked Simone Ndjaye, my frequent companion, a
young woman who kept up-to-date with village
gossip, what did people say was the proof of
Zrewion’s guilt? She replied with two stories
of misfortunes of Zrewion’s younger kinsmen as
evidence (Adams 1989-90/22: 123 ff.).
The Evidence
Sometime ago, a niece of his returned from the
metropolis, Abidjan, saying it was he who had
caused her not to find work in the city. She knew
that from a diviner at Abidjan, (called in local
French, charlatan), so she returned to Keibli to
see her grandfather, reporting to him that thanks
to her uncle, Zrewion, she did not get work. Her
grandfather accepted that it was truly the uncle
and advised her to get free of his sorcery. Simone
explained, “Among us, when you are attacked, you
go to the perpetrator to get free of the maledic-
tion.” Her uncle agreed with her accusation and
they performed a water purification ritual together
(cf. Hauenstein [Wobe] 1984; Himmelheber [Dan]
1977). The niece mounted on a stone and the uncle
poured water around her, saying “All that I have
done, I am going to undo.” This rite is accom-
panied by penalty payments and a reconciliation
meal.
The second case in Zrewion’s guilty past in-
volved one of his maternal nephews, the son of
his older sister. The youth had completed his
high school studies, paid for by Zrewion’s older
brother. Nevertheless, when the youth sought work
in Abidjan, the metropolis, he did not obtain a
Anthropos 101.2006
16
Monni Adams
job.10 He went to see a diviner, a charlatan, who
said that the failure was caused by the youth’s
maternal uncle. That’s how, Simone added, the
boy knew that truly it was the fault of his uncle,
Zrewion. On his voyage home, the youth deposed
a complaint with the gendarmerie at a district
office. The grandfather of his Family said no, you
must withdraw that complaint; one must seek out
sorcery at home. (In fact, by doing nothing, the
local police and state officials refuse to handle
sorcery cases). The grandfather’s advice illustrates
the elders’ resistance to involving state authorities.
The maternal nephew’s accusation is an espe-
cially upsetting one, because it subverts a pillar
of the kinship structure. In comparison with the
competition and strife expected among fraternal
kin, maternal relatives are supposed to remain a
constant source of support. When confronted by
his nephew, Zrewion admitted that he had “killed”
his nephew’s plans. After fulfilling the required
water rites, Zrewion provided for a meal and mon-
ey, after which the nephew returned to the city.
Inai decided to look for Zrewion and ask him
if he were guilty. Afterwards, Inai reported that
whatever Zrewion told him, it was so mixed with
“lies” that Inai concluded that Zrewion was guilty,
and addressed him as follows: “You were the guilty
one for your nephew and now you are the guilty
one for the village.” At that time Zrewion was
denying the accusation.
Curious about Zrewion who I had not encoun-
tered before, I learned that he lived at the far edge
of Keibli. He was a hardworking man who had as-
sembled considerable wealth by good management
of his crops and increasing his livestock. In view
of the dissatisfaction of the niece, nephew, and
his father, Zrewion may attract these accusations
because, in the opinion of relatives and others, he
did not share his prosperity sufficiently.
Crisis of Accusation
One quiet afternoon in Keibli, I saw a crowd of
people coming down the path toward the house
of Inai where I was staying at the time. Waving
sticks, they were chasing after a lone man ahead
of them. The people were yelling accusations
10 The youth’s failure to secure employment exemplifies an
increasing problem among the second generation after
independence. The first generation of educated youth filled
many of the posts vacated by French colonials. Faith in
education intensified as a sure road to city jobs, although
opportunities did not expand sufficiently to absorb the
numerous second-generation youth.
at the man along this line: Assassin! Sorcerer!
Beat him! These outbursts frightened me enough
to hide in the house. The crowd gathered at
Inai’s courtyard. After a discussion among several
elders and Zrewion, who was the man being
pursued, Inai addressed him: “Admit it, you are our
guilty one.” Finally, on this threatening occasion,
Zrewion accepted that accusation. Inai concluded:
“Therefore you must bless the village. You must
provide a sacrifice for all the Families.” And he
called upon everyone to meet the next day.
Inai, who as a wealthy, former national politi-
cian, was obviously taking charge of this unsettling
situation. He was setting up a public trial by means
of which he sought to modify and calm the fears
of the angry villagers. During the colonial peri-
od, the Bo continued an earlier practice against a
confessed sorcerer whose practice threatened the
community. He was stripped naked and forced to
tour the village at night, hearing the shouted insults
and enduring blows from sticks wielded by the
more aggressive mockers, followed by a public
examination of his body for hidden “fetishes.”
These were the conglomerate of objects he had
devised and instructed to fulfill his wishes. Any-
thing found was displayed and publicly discarded.
This would assure the villagers that the sorcerer
was now powerless to repeat this kind of harm.
That evening Inai’ mentioned that he had feared
a posse would form to beat Zrewion, and if done
in the bush, the beating would likely kill him.
This murder would arouse the police, resulting in
serious calamity for the village. Therefore Inai was
calling upon several elders to plan for a ritual
procedure in public to demonstrate the removal
of Zrewion’s “fetishes,” and thus end the threat of
violence. In another example of the “wisdom of
the elders,” he and his fellow elders were aware
of the consequences of action by a posse and the
threat of state intervention that might result. To
suit contemporary limitations, the elders would
alter the earlier treatment for a confessed sorcerer.
Instead of copying it, they planned an abbreviated
version of it, with a focus on dialogue and without
the beating and insults.
The next day at a clearing near Inai’s house
and the village road, there was a grand scene.
About forty people, mostly men from the well-
known local Families, were standing behind sev-
eral elders seated on chairs. Arriving late, I was
proffered a chair on the front row with the elders.
After reviewing the case with oratorical flourishes,
Inai ordered Zrewion to undress, saying “We know
you are the guilty one.” Before the public, Zrewion
accepted the accusation, and began to undress.
Anthropos 101.2006
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern Cote d’Ivoire
17
Inai continued the inquiry while Zrewion gradually
removed all his clothes except for a minimal loin
cover. This removal of clothing was not simply re-
quired as humiliating punishment but also to make
him available for examination. He surrendered to
Inai the small tooth-fetish that had hung around his
neck. While repeatedly questioning Zrewion the
whereabouts of hidden “fetishes” and asking for
assurances of an end to sorcery, Inai continued to
search all over Zrewion’s body, including his hair,
nostrils, ears, armpits, and between his buttocks
for hidden fetishes.
Inai’s truncated public exercise was to demon-
strate that the guilty man had forfeited all the
personal fetishes that had empowered his acts.
News of this complete surrender would help to
pacify the villagers’ anger over Zrewion’s immoral
powers. Once the public was convinced he no
longer had powers to harm them, there would be
a meal of reconciliation, for which the accused
would provide the sacrificial animal.
After Inai’s search yielded no more fetishes, he
said to Zrewion; “Now that you have shown your
guilt, you must bless the village. First, perform
the water rite around four persons [a ritually
favored number] representing the Families affected
by your sorcery. Then you must kill a sheep for
the sacrifice, so send someone to your hamlet to
gut it for tomorrow.”
The following day a larger crowd assembled in
the clearing. A big sheep provided by Zrewion was
led in. Inai announced that a woman had dreamt
that whoever ate of this sheep would die. Suddenly
I heard a loud screaming and physical commotion.
Turning to the crowd, I saw a young man being
held up in the air by the strong arms and shoulders
of about six men. In a trembling trance he was
struggling wildly while shouting hysterically. He
cried out: “If you make the mistake of eating from
this sheep, you will all die!”
Members of the public, now uneasy, recognized
him as the nephew of a recently deceased medicine
man (Fr. féticheur), who wanted to take over his
uncle’s profession. On earlier occasions, they had
seen him observe two days of silent trance, but
here he was violently agitated, and shouting loud
warnings about the poisoned sheep, so people were
surprised and upset. What shall we do? exclaimed
some in the audience. “I can say no more,” he
yelled as his bearers carried him off, a disturbing
interruption of the proceedings, a reminder of the
uneasy emotional state of the public.
During this upset, the elders had sent for salt
und limes for purification. Handing the guilty
Zrewion some salt, Inai asked him if he had
poisoned the sheep. Sprinkling the salt over the
sheep, he cried out: “You have only to go ahead
and kill the sheep. I have promised to do no more
sorcery. If I have put anything in the sheep to
harm the villagers, may I die right here!” Each
of the elders took some salt then to sprinkle on
the animal. Then Inai squeezed lime juice on the
Zrewion’s head, on his fetish, and on the sheep.
Salt and lime for their biting effect are considered
apotropaic, causing harmful spirits to withdraw.
The sheep was taken away to be slaughtered. For
the meal of reconciliation, the sheep’s flesh was
divided and cooked as a meat stew that would be
served with rice, to the heads of each of the eight
Families in the village of Keibli.11
While dressing at one side of the clearing,
Zrewion was calmly making comments. As I
approached, I heard him say (in French): “I know
a lot of persons in this village who are worse
sorcerers than I ever was.” Throughout I had
been impressed by his composed manner and tone
lacking any vehemence or rancor. Apparently,
through his earlier experiences, he has accepted
that he would be blamed for sorcery, and willingly
goes through the effort and expense of redeeming
himself.
According to the cultural anthropologist, Mari-
anne Fritz, this kind of accusation should be seen
as the banal side of sorcery (oral communication
to M. Adams, 1/20/05). In such cases, people do
not attribute lasting spiritual powers to the ac-
cused but use an occasional ritual of accusation
as a way of addressing their feeling of anger or
helplessness, and their desire for access, in some
degree, to the wealth that the owner does not share.
This assessment is supported by the fact that the
accusation had a limited effect. The highly specific
and episodic nature of Zrewion’s sorcery powers
is also indicated by its narrowly defined scope,
shown in the following comment on Zrewion’s
exercise of quite different capacities.
In a discussion on sorcery a few weeks later
with Bassei Alphonse, a knowledgeable elder of
Keibli, I asked: “What kind of person was the man,
Zrewion, who was accused so strongly recently?”
He replied: “That man is well-liked in this village.
He is intelligent and he makes judgments in quar-
rels between men or women, wives and husbands,
and so forth. In disputes, people say ‘Lets go to
Zrewion for a settlement.’” “But now after the
11 Hours later, in apportioning the meat stew and cooked
rice, the elders sent me the serving with the sheep’s head,
considered the most prestigious part. They were pleased
that I had witnessed this trial.
Anthropos 101.2006
18
Monni Adams
trial?” I asked. Alphonse replied; “Yes, even after
the trial. The intelligence remains; it is still there.
He was a sorcerer but he is still asked to make
judgments in disputes.”
In this case, it was important that the trial
be public, as it was in the past, in order to
disseminate the disarming of the accused sorcerer.
As the elders realized, the threat of possibly
fatal violence would inevitably attract officials of
the nation-state, with ensuing severe judgments
against the village men and the community as a
whole. Their solution was to modify this threat
by a somewhat truncated but traditional ritual.
The change that emerges is the modification of
treating the accused, the effective imprint of the
limits imposed on local elders by the external
state authorities against physical punishment, and
toward a regulated, discursive procedure.
Conclusion
In the 1980s, the heads of lineage families in Can-
ton Bo (Fr. Boo) intended to maintain the moral
order they knew from oral tradition and inherited
practice, which upheld their own prosperity and
authority. As Herzfeld recommends (2001: 122),
we should look beyond the facts represented by
the rules to consider power relations and strategies
forged within the system, to examine what bear-
ers of power actually do, how they pursue their
particular ends.
The Bo elders face a serious problem. Under the
expanding economic conditions fostered since the
1920s by French colonial rule and subsequently
(from 1960) by the nation-state, an increasing
number of youth are attracted away from the
villages to pursue a career in the cities where they
encounter a more open society and a degree of
independence. To keep them, elders try to enliven
the quality of life in villages and modify their
severity toward the young.
During the first trial, leading elders of Medib-
li village made strenuous efforts to maintain the
inherited code of marriage that rewards the elders
and permits a proper burial for land-holding Fami-
lies. Using the suitor’s failure to observe an initial
point of protocol, that is, a symbolic contractual
gift to the girl’s father, her Family could sue for
damages. During the trial the negotiated penalties
reached double the conventional bridewealth fig-
ure, thus insisting on the fundamental rules linking
two lineage Families in marriage. At the end, the
girl’s Family made the surprising offer to settle for
only half that amount. By forgiving the equivalent
balance of hard-won damages, her Family chose
not to sunder but to restore the social tie between
the two leading Families. The court-like conduct of
the trial and the public exposition of the issues was
surely designed to impress the audience of young
people, home from the city, on the inescapability
of this social rule, and at the same time reinforce
the importance of maintaining communal ties.
In the violence-over-incest case, a kinship link
between the victim and a state bureaucrat was a
sufficient cause of potential damage for the elders
to choose from among their own self-regulations a
different basis of condemnation. They could take
advantage from their many local rules and norms,
such as, in this case, a condemnation of male
violence, to side-step intrusion by the state.
The third trial over a sorcery accusation was
arranged in public in order to invoke institutional
control over violence threatened by a people’s
posse. Here the trial was to quell the potential of
a death that would inevitably attract intervention
by the state. This case illustrates also the mundane
side of sorcery. The spiritual powers attributed to
the accused were episodic; they were neutralized
by his having to share assets with the accusers.
In all three cases, it is evident that the traditional
rules about social relations have proved to have
“remarkable durability’” (Moore 1978: 66). How-
ever, the procedures the elders adopted proved
sensitive to the changes the Bo have experienced
in terms of external authorities: avoiding the death
sentence, modifying the severity of penalties, flex-
ibility in choosing the basis for judgment, and
efforts to avoid intervention by state officials, that
would threaten the elders’ own control.
References Cited
Adams, Monni
2004 Words and Things in a Crisis among the Bo people of
Western Côte d’Ivoire. Anthropos 99: 193-200.
Geary, Christraud M.
1986 On Legal Change in Cameroon. Women, Marriage,
and Bridewealth. Boston: Boston University. (African
Studies Center Working Papers, 113)
Girard, Jean
1967 Dynamique de la société Ouobé. Loi des masques et
coutume. Dakar: IFAN. (Mémoires de l’Institut Fonda-
mental d’Afrique Noire, 78)
Hauenstein, Alfred
1984 L’eau et les cours d’eau dans différents rites et coutumes
en Afrique occidentale. Anthropos 79: 569-585.
Herzfeld, Michael
2001 Anthropology. Theoretical Practice in Culture and So-
ciety. Malden: Blackwell Publishers.
Anthropos 101.2006
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern Cote d’Ivoire
19
Himmelheber, Hans
1977 Das Ritual des Wasser-Ausgiessens bei einigen west-
afrikanischen Stämmen. Ethnologische Zeitschrift Zü-
rich 2:43-51.
Moore, Sally Falk
1978 Law as Process. An Anthropological Approach. Lon-
don: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Unpublished Sources
Adams, Monni
1984-85 Journals 1-15.
1989-90 Journals 21-33.
Fritz, Marianne
2005 Oral Communication to M. J. Adams; 1/20/05.
Anth
,roPos 101.2006
/¿SIAN
(Folklore
Studies
A Semi-Annual Journal
Founder
Matthias Eder
Editor
Peter Knecht
Selected Topics from Volume lxiv-i, 2005
Maithil Womens Perspectives and Practices in the
Festival of Sämä Cakevä (Nepal)
Urban Adaptation of the Paharia in Rajshahi (Bangladesh)
Bridal Laments in Rural Hong Kong
Folk Religion and Gender Relationships in Rural China
Silkworms and Consorts in Nara Japan
Proposed Topics for Volume lxiv-2, 2005
Zhu Yingtai Lore: Cross-Dressing, Gender, and Sex (China)
Horses, Spirits, and Disease in Ancient Japan
Hmong-American Oral Culture Tradition
Shuten Döji: Drunken Demon (Japan)
From Ritual Dance to Folk Dance (Turkey)
Subscription rates for two issues/year:
Institutions US $40.00
Individuals US $22.00
Address all inquiries to:
Anthropological Institute
Nanzan University
18 Yamazato-cho, Showa-ku
Nagoya, 466-8673
JAPAN
Anthropos
101.2006: 21-35
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest
for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
Steve Tonah
Abstract. - This article analyses the contest for paramount
chiefship in Mamprugu, one of the traditional states in northern
Ghana. It examines the role that spiritualists such as diviners
and malams play in the contest. The first part provides an
°verview of Mamprusi traditional political system and the
Province of Wungu, from which this case study is taken. This
18 followed by an analysis of Traditional African Religion and
Islam, the two dominant religious practices in the area. Finally,
the article examines the contest for paramount chiefship in
2001 and the specific role that spiritualists such as diviners
ar>d malams play during the contest. [Northern Ghana, Mam-
Prusi, chieftaincy succession, Islam, traditional religion, power,
traditional politics]
Steve Tonah, Dr., since 1999 working as a Research Fellow at
the Department of Sociology, University of Ghana. - His main
research interests are in the area of interethnic relations, Fulani
Pastoral ism in West Africa, and chieftaincy in Ghana. He has
also conducted extensive research into these areas throughout
Ghana and in southern Burkina Faso. - He has published in
Journals such as Africa, Africa Spectrum, Journal of Modern
African Studies, Legon Journal of Sociology, and Zeitschrift für
Ethnologie. - See also References Cited.
introduction
In spite of the fact that traditional rulers in Ghana,
just as in many West African countries, have lost
n^ost of their legislative, administrative, and judi-
cial powers to leaders of nation-states created dur-
ing the colonial period, the institution of chieftain-
cy appears to have lost little of its legitimacy and
attraction amongst the population in many parts of
the country. Indeed, chieftaincy has proven to be a
Very resilient institution in Ghana. This is because
ln spite of the denigration and the humiliation that
the institution suffered during the colonial and the
immediate postcolonial period, chieftaincy has not
only survived (to the amazement of those who had
prophesied its gradual demise) but has remained
popular amongst large sections of the Ghanaian
population. Not even the widely pervasive views
that chieftaincy has become increasingly associat-
ed with protracted disputes and conflicts, an un-
ending struggle for land and power, corruption,
and the increasing polarization of the society ap-
pear to have substantially diminished the reverence
that admirers of the institution have for it.
Several reasons have been adduced for the
growing interest in chieftaincy and for its survival
against all odds. These include the continuing
allegiance of large sections of the population,
including in recent times the educated elite, to
their traditional leadership; the inability to create a
national identity out of the numerous ethnic groups
forced together into a nation-state; the continuing
association of chieftaincy with power and wealth;
and the flexibility of the institution and its ability
to adapt to the changing political order of the
postcolonial period.
The chieftaincy institution continues to be very
vibrant in many parts of West Africa and has
coped very well with the challenges of the colonial
and the postcolonial periods. Though with little
administrative and legislative powers within the
nation-state, chieftaincy positions are still very
much sought after, and competition for high office
in many traditional areas in Ghana remains very
keen. In northern Ghana, the competition for high
22
Steve Tonah
traditional office is particularly fierce amongst the
centralized, hierarchical states of Dagbon, Mam-
pmgu, Nanun, and Gonja. In Dagbon, the bitter
struggle between the two royal clans (Abudu and
Andani) has resulted in a protracted internecine
conflict (Alhassan 2004; Ladouceur 1972). In the
neighbouring traditional state of Nanun, conflicts
between the gates of Gbugmayili and Banyili
have characterised succession to the Bimbilla Naa
(Skalnik 1987). Similarly, fierce internecine con-
flicts between various individuals and clans are
associated with the competition to high traditional
office in Wa and Nandom in northwestern Ghana
(Lentz 1993, 2000; Wilks 1989).
The Mamprusi of northern Ghana, about whom
this article is about, have a strong devotion to
chieftaincy and traditional rule. Indeed, becoming
a chief or a titled person is the most cherished
achievement of all persons of royal descent and
large sections of the population. Most Mamprusi
royals spend a considerable amount of their time,
energy, and resources seeking for chieftaincy po-
sitions. Chiefs are very much revered in the soci-
ety and becoming a chief is one of the quickest
routes to power, prestige, and wealth within the
Mamprusi society. The competition for chief ship
positions at all levels of the political hierarchy
is, therefore, intense, fierce, full of passion, ex-
citement, and fear. Competitors in any chieftaincy
contest usually employ to the fullest, their person-
al skills and bravado, kinship network, economic
resources, and spiritual fortitude.
This article analyses the contest for paramount
chiefship in Mamprugu, one of the traditional
states in northern Ghana. It examines how the
contestants use religion and religious leaders in
their quest for chiefship positions. In particular,
the article looks at the role that spiritualists such
as diviners and malams play in the extremely
competitive contest. The first part provides an
overview of Mamprusi traditional political system
and the province of Wungu, from which this case
study is taken. This is followed by an analysis of
the development of Traditional African Religion
and Islam, the two dominant religious practices in
the area. Finally, the article examines the contest
for paramount chiefship in 2001 and the specific
role that spiritualists such as diviners and malams
played during the contest.
Theoretical Considerations on Power in Africa
Recent studies on power and the political system
in African countries have focused mainly on the
nature of governance and the type of leadership ex-
hibited in many of these postcolonial nation-states.
Generally, governance in most African states has
been described as being largely characterized by
personal rule and the patrimonialism of power
and authority structures by the rulers (Callaghy
1994; 202). African states, it is argued, do not
have well-developed and functional political insti-
tutions. They have also not evolved basic institu-
tions that guide and constrain political behaviour.
Power is concentrated in the leader of the regime
and a core group of associates that constitute the
executive arm of government. The leaders control
the judiciary and the legislative arm of government
by filling these positions with their own cronies
or persons who would uncritically accept their
positions and viewpoints. Politics and the contest
for political power thus becomes a “game played
mainly for self-interest, expediency and necessity,
without legitimate and restraining rules” (Dzorgbo
1998:71). Even in states that inherited a fair-
ly well-established tradition of the separation of
powers with clearly laid down rules, these rules
are often overridden by the wishes of the leaders.
Constitutions may describe the formal arrangement
of governance in many of these states, but, in
reality, power usually resides in the leader. The
winner takes all mentality is pervasive and there
is increasingly less room for political opponents to
operate.
A second major theme that has dominated the
literature on governance in the postcolonial states
of Africa is the direct relationship between ac-
cess to political power and the accumulation of
wealth. Political power is sought not merely for
the prestige that is associated with the position but
because it offers the leaders and their cronies a
quicker and easier means to obtain wealth, pres-
tige, and status within the society. Political leaders
and their close confidants are offered privileged
and illegitimate access to state resources (Jackson
and Rosberg 1994). Clapham (1985:48) indicates
that “officials hold positions in bureaucratic organ-
isations with power which are formally defined,
but exercise power, so far as they can, as a form
not of public service but of private property.”
Similarly, Callaghy (1994: 205) argues that “the
state in Africa, directly or indirectly, has defi-
nitely been the major avenue of upward mobility
and accumulation.” Following a pattern set dur-
ing the colonial period, the political leadership
in many African countries extracted substantial
resources from the produce of large sections of
society. Part of the revenue is obtained from the
export of primary agricultural commodities such
Anthropos 101.2006
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
23
as cocoa, coffee, groundnut, and minerals such
as gold, diamond, and oil was diverted to busi-
nesses owned by persons loyal to the leadership.
A small group of ruling elite and their cronies
are given top management positions within the
numerous parastatal organizations set up to man-
age commodities destined for the export market,
thus opening up avenues for such persons to ac-
quire wealth. State agents thus became tied to a
clientelist system of political control where they
secured access to jobs and opportunities for private
accumulation through patronage networks (Boone
1994).
The emphasis on the postcolonial state in much
of the recent literature has, however, been to the
detriment of other equally important political in-
stitutions. Though, the postcolonial state has un-
doubtedly become the most significant institution
of governance at the national level, it is not the sole
source of authority. There are several traditional
institutions, such as chieftaincy, with considerable
authority among the population and which exist
°n a different basis of legitimacy. Legal and po-
litical anthropologists have, therefore, criticized
the tendency to concentrate solely on analyzing
the functioning of state institutions to the neglect
of other equally important traditional institutions
of governance that are scattered throughout the
continent. This “state-centric view,” it is argued,
does not capture many relevant institutions of
governance, especially at the local level, and is
therefore a misconception of the African political
landscape (Benda-Beckmann 1997; Skalnik 1996).
Proponents of this view maintain that, contrary
to the “state-centric view,” the African political
landscape is characterized by divided sovereign-
ty and legitimacy. The primary loyalty of most
Africans is not to the nation-state but to their
traditional rulers and traditional institutions. Tra-
ditional rulers and other institutions are generally
seen as being indigenous, close to the population
and responsive to their needs, while state institu-
tions and national leaders are perceived as being
distant, alien, elitist, and sometimes illegitimate by
large sections of the population, especially those in
the rural areas (Zips and Rouveroy van Nieuwaal
1998).
Large sections of the African population bypass
agencies of state administration (such as the local
government, the police, courts, etc.) and instead
seek advice, counselling, and justice from chiefs
and other traditional authorities. Chiefs still com-
mand a lot of respect in many African societies.
They have considerable power and authority in
t eir traditional areas and beyond. They admin-
Anthn
°Pos 101.2006
ister their traditional areas and settle disputes in
areas that fall under their territory. They control
land, allocate this on behalf of the population,
and control the society by ensuring law and or-
der. Chiefs perform these functions even when
similar or parallel institutions of the state exist in
the area.
In large parts of Africa, the political institu-
tions created by the nation-state often co-exist
and cooperate with the traditional political insti-
tutions in governance and the administration of
the country. State institutions have, as a result of
the monopoly they enjoy in the imposition of tax-
es on the population, considerable resources and
funds that traditional institutions and traditional
leaders desire. Leaders and governments of the
nation-state have, however, not been able to obtain
the desired level of legitimacy among the popu-
lation. They often long for the respect, loyalty,
and legitimacy that traditional leaders enjoy among
their subjects. They also frequently seek the as-
sistance of traditional leaders in legitimizing their
own regimes or in gaining popular support needed
to remain in power. Leaders of the nation-state
are, therefore, compelled to cooperate with, rather
than antagonize traditional rulers and traditional
institutions.
In response to criticisms levelled against “state
centrist” views on politics and power in Africa,
this article focuses on the nature of power within
the traditional African political realm. It seeks to
contribute to our understanding of the traditional
political system, the politics of chieftaincy succes-
sion and the struggle for power within the tradi-
tional polity, using a case study from Mamprugu in
northern Ghana. The article also suggests that the
nature of politics and power in the traditional sys-
tem is strikingly similar to that of the postcolonial
state and an understanding of the former system
may help us appreciate certain occurrences in the
latter.
Traditional polities in Africa share many sim-
ilarities with the postcolonial states. Indeed, it is
probably not too far-fetched to argue that lead-
ers of postcolonial regimes have adopted many
characteristics associated with leaders of tradition-
al kingdoms and chiefdoms in Africa: The tradi-
tional polities are probably the perfect examples
of the patrimonial states widely associated with
the nation-state. During the precolonial period,
leaders of traditional states controlled all human
and natural resources within their territories and
exacted tributes from their citizens, strangers, and
vassal regions for the administration of the state.
Power was also highly personalized and the tenure
24
Steve Tonah
was usually for life. Leaders were very much
revered and they, in turn, distributed positions
and titles to persons based on their loyalty and
contribution to the kingdom. The king or chief
was the final arbiter in all disputes, though he
would seek advice from members of his court.
African traditional polities are also characterized
by a winner-takes-all mentality. There is no for-
mal opposition to the power and authority of the
king or chief and critical as well as alternative
views are often unwelcome. Losers in a chief-
taincy contest are expected to swear loyalty to
the winner and bury not only their ambitions for
power but also all previous animosities towards
the winner.
The Study Area and Population
Mamprugu is one of the centralized and hierarchi-
cal traditional states set up in northern Ghana by a
group of conquerors, presumably from the Sahel-
ian region (Fada N’Grumah), somewhere between
the 15th and the 16th century. This group of in-
vaders are said to have defeated the autochthonous
population of the area and established their author-
ity over a large area that they were able to bring
under their control. The victorious group then
constituted themselves into the people of chiefs
(,nademo) while the autochthonous population was
relegated to the positions of elders (na kpaam-
ba) and commoners (tarima) (Rattray 1932: 546 f.;
Schlottner 2000: 54). The Mamprusi are, therefore,
an amalgamation of Mampruli-speaking groups
who today inhabit the area between the Gam-
baga ranges to the north and the Nasia river to
the south. Isolated groups of Mamprusi are al-
so found in the neighbouring regions such as
in Kusasi, Builsa, and Sisala territory. They call
themselves “Dagbamba” but are more commonly
referred to as Mamprusi and the area over which
they were able to extend their rule is referred
to as Mamprugu. Today, Mamprugu refers more
or less to the area predominantly inhabited by
the nearly 300,000 Mampruli-speaking peoples of
the East and West Mamprusi Districts, as well
as the Yunyoo-Bunpurugu District of northern
Ghana.
The traditional state of Mamprugu consists of
the central province of Nalerigu and the five di-
visions or paramountcies of Kpasenkpe, Janga,
Wungu, Yunyoo, and Kurugu. At the head of the
Nalerigu division and the king of the Mamprusi
is the Nayiri. In addition to appointing the vari-
ous paramount chiefs, the Nayiri administers the
province of Nalerigu with the assistance of the
elders of the Mamprugu state.1
Although the Nayiri appoints all of the five
paramount chiefs of Mamprugu and allocates the
power of office (naam)2 to them during the instal-
lation ceremony, the various paramount chiefs ad-
minister their territories more or less autonomous-
ly. This highly decentralized administration of the
state has remained a significant feature of the
Mamprusi polity. However, the degree of auton-
omy enjoyed by the various paramount chiefs
has varied over time. According to Schlottner
(2000:53), “there is some evidence that early
Mamprugu was a confederation of independently
acting local chiefs who accepted the authority of a
paramount chief.” These paramount chiefs, whose
role was initially described as being “primus inter
pares”, are said to have lost some of their initial
powers under successive Nayiri during the 18th
and 19th centuries (cf. Davis 1984).
Just like many other traditional rulers in the
West African subregion, the functions of a chief
amongst the Mamprusi go beyond the normal
administrative duties. The chieftaincy position
embodies not only the political office but also
includes many spiritual functions. This becomes
apparent in the numerous sacrificial roles and
the veneration of ancestors that accompany the
holding of political office at all levels. The spiritual
qualities embodied in a chief are regarded as a
source of power, prestige, and respect, and provide
the general foundation for the legitimacy of the
rulers.
The main administrative organ of a paramount
chief in Mamprugu is the court. It is at the chiefs
court that claims to chief ship are judged and the
power of office (naam) is allocated to individu-
al members of the royal household. Furthermore,
these courts also perform numerous judicial tasks.
These include trivial issues such as the settlement
of family and lineage disputes, marital problems,
theft, and other issues considered by the inhabi-
tants to be more serious, such as adultery (especial-
ly that involving the wife of a chief), disrespect for
1 The elders of Nalerigu, otherwise known as the Nayiri
elders, include holders of the position of the Tarana
(the Nayiri’s spokesman), Sakpari (the confidant), Wudana
(chief warrior), Maasu (counsellor), Akara (servant), Sak-
panaba (guard and executioner), and the kpatyirana (guard
and executioner). All the elders are officials at the Nayiri’s
court (see Drucker Brown 1975: 44-75; Rattray 1932: 555).
2 The Mamprusi describe each titled person as having “eaten
naam,” the power of office. The term “naam” is not only
associated with political power but has also religious
functions involving the veneration of the ancestors and the
rituals of sacrifice.
Anthropos 101.2006
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
25
chiefly authority, witchcraft, oath-breaking, sor-
cery, and the denigration of the ancestors. Per-
sons who commit any offences are brought to
the court and, if found guilty, are made to pay
fines with animals or in cash (cf. Amadu 2002).
Just as elsewhere in northern Ghana, many of the
functions of the chiefs, including those relating to
the maintenance of law and order, defence, the
management of the economy, the administration
of taxes, the administration of justice, and the
power to control the labour of their subjects, have
been taken over by the colonial and postcolonial
governments (Davis 1987; Staniland 1975).
Currently, two parallel systems of authority co-
exist in Mamprugu: the modem District Assembly
concept and the traditional customary authority.
The District Assembly consists of representatives
from the various settlements in the area and is the
official legislative body in the district. Legislative
powers in Mampmgu formally reside with the Dis-
trict Assembly while the District Chief Executive
has the executive power and authority. The tradi-
tional leadership has retained part of its authority
and continues to wield considerable influence, es-
pecially in matters relating to chieftaincy and land.
A lot of Mamprusi, especially those in the small
and rural settlements, continue to express their
allegiance to the traditional customary authority
vested in the Nayiri, the paramount chiefs, and the
elders (cf. Ray 1998; Reikat 2002).
The Mamprusi are a patrilineal people and de-
scent is traced unilaterally through the male line.
The relationship between a person’s male relatives
tends to be particularly strong. Sons inherit the
property of their deceased parents, although part of
the property may be given to the female children.
Tracing one’s line of descent is particularly sig-
nificant for that category of persons who consider
themselves to be descendants of a former chief
and are thus eligible to compete for the chief-
ship position. Indeed, individuals would fervent-
ly strive to trace their patrilineal relationship to
a royal household, even if this is several genera-
tions ago.
A typical Mamprusi settlement (tinga) in the
Wungu Province consists of several sections {fond)
with each section inhabited mainly by members of
a particular lineage. Each section would consist of
several compound houses (yd) that are built close
to each other to form a unit. Each section would be
under the leadership of a sectional head and all the
sections put together constitute a settlement under
the leadership of a chief. Mamprusi houses are
typically a mixture of concentric and rectangular
rooms built adjacent to one another. The houses
Anthropos 101.2006
are mainly built of mud and roofed with thatched
materials, except in the larger settlement where
houses built of cement and corrugated iron sheets
predominate. A compound usually consists of
several members of an extended family, including
the eldest male (yidana), his wives, children, and
extended family members.
A sociopolitical hierarchy within a Mamprusi
settlement at the provincial and subprovincial lev-
els would consist of the naa (chief) at the pinnacle
who is the highest authority. Immediately below
him are the wudana (linguist) and the kpandana
(the chief earth priest). Next on the hierarchy
are the imam (the Islamic religious leader), the
kambonaba (chief warrior) and the nabisi (titled
persons and royals). They are followed in the
traditional hierarchy by the nachinaa (youth lead-
er), the magajia (women leader) and the fongu
kpamma (sectional heads). At the base of the table
are the tarima (commoners) consisting of all those
who are not members of the royal elite and do
not have a specific function within the political
structure. Among the commoners are a large group
of migrants from the neighbouring ethnic groups
who have settled in the area (Tonah 2003).
In this resource-poor savanna region, land and
labour constitute the most abundant resources.
Most Mamprusi are subsistence farmers who keep
small stock, poultry, and cattle. They cultivate
maize, millet, sorghum, cowpea, rice, groundnut,
and tobacco and manage their small stock on an
extensive system. Except in the largest settlements
where formal employment is available, there are
very few processing industries in the area. Cattle
are entrusted to Fulani herdsmen, who manage
them on behalf of the Mamprusi and other cat-
tle owners (Tonah 2003). Ownership of cattle is
of immense importance to the Mamprusi because
of the prestige that it brings to the owner but
also because of their practical uses for econom-
ic, social, and religious purposes. I would later
dilate on the significance of cattle in providing
resources required by the royal elite in competing
for chiefship. Suffice it now to say that adult males
who do not own cattle are frequently derided by
their friends and neighbours who own cattle. One
household head told me that “the most humiliating
thing for me is to be insulted for not possessing
cattle. Individuals with cattle frequently insult me
with statements such as ‘what do you have? You
don’t even have cow dung let alone cattle. You are
a destitute. You cannot feed your family.’”3
3 Tonah, fieldnote 2b/15: Interview with Yannaba, 16th De-
cember 2001, Wungu.
26
Steve Tonah
The Wungu Division
This study was conducted in the Wungu Province,
one of the five provinces of Mamprugu. The Wun-
gu Province is the largest and the wealthiest in
Mamprugu. The area includes the major trading
centres of Wungu (the capital town) and Walewale
(the largest town and an administrative and com-
mercial centre) as well as over 60 villages located
in the largely inaccessible areas of the so-called
“Overseas.” The area is vast in terms of size (be-
ing nearly three times as big as the neighbouring
paramountcies of Kpasenkpe and Janga). With an
estimated population of nearly 100,000 inhabitants
and a population density of about 24 persons per
km2, the area is one of the most densely populated
areas of the northern region of Ghana (WMDA
2000).
The Wungu traditional area is, just as all
the paramountcies in Mamprugu, hierarchically
structured. At the head of the hierarchy is the
paramount chief (the wunaba), based in the cap-
ital town of Wungu. The Nayiri, in consultation
with his elders and ancestors, appoints the wunaba
from among a number of eligible royals from
the various sections/gates within the paramount-
cy. It is during the installation ceremony that the
Nayiri confers on the wunaba the power of office
(naam) and the mandate to rule and administer the
division. The wunaba, just as all the paramount
chiefs of Mamprugu, have considerable autonomy
in the administration of their traditional area. They
have their own courts where cases are settled;
they enskin chiefs and subchiefs to assist in the
administration of their territory and perform all
the sacrifices and religious duties required of a
paramount chief.
The vast territory under the traditional jurisdic-
tion of the wunaba, the availability of numerous
natural resources and the comparatively wealthy
nature of the area, the huge number of chiefs and
subchiefs available for enskinment by the wunaba,
and the special relations that exist between the
Wungu paramountcy and the Nayiri have without
doubt, made the position of the wunaba one of the
most valued and hotly contested in Mamprugu.
Traditional Religion and Islam in Mamprugu
Ancestor worship constitutes the central element
of the Mamprusi traditional religion. A Mampru-
ga (pi. Mamprusi) who becomes the head of his
lineage takes custody of the lineage’s shrine. He
sacrifices regularly to the shrine on behalf of all
members of the lineage, seeking the blessings and
assistance of the ancestors in all matters, but espe-
cially, with respect to the health of the members
and their economic prosperity. Lineage heads, as
custodians of shrines, are, therefore, revered by
those on whose behalf they perform these sac-
rifices. The lineage or household head (yidano)
enjoys considerable moral authority among his
subjects and the latter live in fear of his authority
to sanction them. Just as the lineage/household
head performs sacrifices on behalf of his lin-
eage/household, so too do the earth priest (ten-
dano) perform similar religious sacrifices on behalf
of the entire community. This pattern of religious
life is widely practiced throughout northern Ghana.
Fortes (1970: 253) notes with respect to the neigh-
bouring Tallensi that “The Tallensi both fear and
venerate their ancestors, seeking to placate and
coerce them with sacrifices, so that health, fruitful-
ness, and prosperity may prevail ... The ancestor
cult, the supreme sanction of kinship ties, is a
great stabilizing force counteracting the centrifugal
tendencies inherent in the lineage system.”
Closely associated with the practice of the ven-
eration of the ancestors is the process of divination
as practiced by a specialized group found in every
Mamprusi settlement, referred to as the ba’a (di-
viners). Divination is widely practiced throughout
northern Ghana and is the main medium through
which the living contact their deceased ances-
tors.4 Among the Mamprusi, the work of the divin-
er is a specialized profession and membership of
this exclusive group is hereditary, being limited to
descendants of persons who previously performed
this function. This is because it is widely believed
that it is a person’s father or grandfather who
bestows the powers of a diviner on the individual.
The completion of a specialized training and the
4 Mendonsa (2001: 155 f.) defines divination as “a method for
connecting a deviant act with a misfortune” and the divina-
tion process as “that sequence of events beginning with
the perception of affliction, leading to the consultation of a
diviner and ultimately leading to a retributive act thought
to appease an offended spirit.” Traditionally, “divination is
the main way of contacting the ancestors. It is a socially
guided activity which allows the living to make sense out
of unexplained events and tragedies ... a set of ideas, oper-
ations, and techniques that constitute, in the emic model, a
means of determining the truth. Divination involves a pro-
cess of analyzing various perspectives, random happenings,
and interpretations thereby transforming the unexplained
into the explained; the meaningless into meaning; multiple
perspectives into a single, socially-defined perspective; and
random events into a ritual event” (Mendonsa 2001: 167 f.).
The divination process is thus considered by both the prac-
titioners and their clients to be genuine; it cannot be wrong
because the ancestors never lie.
Anthropos 101.2006
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
27
performance of established rituals accompany an
individual’s graduation into the highly respected
group of diviners. Diviners are hierarchically or-
ganized under the leadership of the chief diviner
Igbannd). The various sections within a settlement
may also have their own group of diviners. In the
Wungu community, for example, there are two
main groups of diviners: The Bintisari for the
Naani section of the community and the Tirana,
Kpanarana, and Gborana for the Tingbantita sec-
tion.
The process of divination has its own peculiar
rituals among the Mampmsi and the use of di-
viners is part of the complex social and religious
cosmology of the people. Diviners are consult-
ed for explanations on negative conditions such
as a prolonged drought, crop failure, unexplained
deaths in the community, etc. Individuals may
also seek the services of diviners in case of ill-
ness, domestic conflicts, family arguments, acci-
dents, travel worries, divorce, witchcraft, and other
misfortunes. Besides its usefulness in explaining
mishaps, divination is frequently used to foretell
the future or the course of events. Diviners, it
is widely believed, are able to manipulate events
or occurrences in the client’s favour, prevent an
impending mishap and even improve upon the
client’s chances of success in an event or contest,
it is the diviner’s ability to foretell future oc-
currences, influence and manipulate them in their
clients’ favour that has made their services in high
demand among aspirants for high office and the
Population at large (cf. Owusu-Ansah 2000).
Since the 18th century, the traditional social
and religious cosmology of most ethnic groups in
northern Ghana that mainly involved the vener-
ation of ancestors and the use of diviners have
been altered by a largely Islamic worldview. In
the centralized states of Dagbon, Mamprugu, and
Nanun, Islamic practices have been superimposed
uP°n the traditional social and religious practices
°f the people. Wilks (1963, 1965) has identified
t^o main sources of Islam in northern Ghana:
he one northwestern and of Wangara origin, and
the other northeastern and of Hausa origin. Both
groups of migrants are reported to have moved
mto northern Ghana during the 18th century. Some
of these migrants came to the area as traders
while others were part of the group of warriors
Jbat overrun the savanna region during this period.
The Wangara, a group consisting of Muslims from
ali, are known to have migrated to as far as
t e fringes of the forest zone in their quest to
Participate in the exploitation of the gold resources
°t the Volta Basin. Similarly, Hausa traders from
Anthropos 101.2006
northern Nigeria settled in the Volta Basin as a
result of the flourishing trade in kola between the
forest region and the savanna zone. Many of these
migrant Muslim traders, who were initially con-
centrated in settlements along their trading routes,
later moved into other parts of northern Ghana
proselytizing and spreading Islam among the in-
digenous population (Iddrisu 2002; Wilks 1963).
Muslim migrants from Mali are also reported to
have moved into the savanna region, following the
collapse of the Mali Kingdom, where they helped
in the foundation of states like Yagbum and Nasa
in Gonja and Wa respectively (Goody 1966; Wilks
1989).
The relationship between the kings of the es-
tablished states and these Muslim migrants varied
considerably. Some of the leaders warmly received
these Muslim clerics while others had a lackadaisi-
cal attitude towards them. However, it is widely
accepted that leaders of the centralized states such
as those of Mamprugu, Dagbon, and Gonja were
quick in seeking the assistance of Muslim traders
and scholars in their wars of conquests. They
protected the Muslim migrants and offered them
a special position within the traditional political
hierarchy. The Muslims did not only pray for their
hosts but provided amulets and protection for their
warriors during periods of wars. The influence of
the Muslim migrants and teachers that was initially
limited to the elite group of rulers began to spread
among the entire citizenry. As the Islamic influ-
ence spread, the role of Muslims began to be trans-
formed from that of advisers to the ruling elite into
a group with a broad appeal among large sections
of the population. Muslims displayed their dex-
terity in traditional medicine by providing treat-
ment for common diseases and healing wherever
they lived. Muslim holy men applied a multiplic-
ity of spiritual sources in preparing amulets and
prayers to treat not only physical but also psycho-
logical and spiritual ailments (cf. Owusu-Ansah
2000).
By the early 19th century, Islam had become
established not only at the heart of the political
systems of all the centralized states of northern
Ghana but had spread rapidly among large sections
of the population. While the leaders of these states
themselves showed varying degrees of personal at-
tachment to Islam, Islam began to feature strongly
at the general level of the society, sometimes be-
ing superimposed on existing traditional practices.
Festivals (such as the Damba, Bugum, Chimsi,
Konyuurichu, and Kpini) that were hitherto mainly
celebrated in the traditional fashion were replaced
by, or merged with Islamic ones. Muslim officials
28
Steve Tonah
were then appointed to organize these festivals (cf.
Drucker Brown 1975: 96-99). Most of the chiefs
appointed Islamic scholars to positions of lead-
ership within their communities and the practice
whereby Muslim scholars (malams) officiate at the
enskinment of a new chief became institutional-
ized. Islamic festivals, including the birth of the
Prophet celebrated during the Damba festival, be-
came entrenched in the society and are celebrated
by all Mamprusi irrespective of whether they are
Muslims or not. Similarly, in many settlements,
non-Muslims join their Muslim neighbours in the
celebration of essentially Muslim festivals such
as the Id Fitr and the Id Aida. Many of these
festivals have assumed the status of traditional
state festivals with titled and nontitled royals in
attendance. During these festivals, prayers are of-
fered for the province, the state, and all persons
occupying traditional leadership position within
Mamprugu.5
Although many Mamprusi have, today, formal-
ly converted to Islam and the proportion of Muslim
households is growing rapidly, most residents con-
tinue to combine many aspects of their traditional
religion with Islamic practices. The celebration
of social events such as marriages, outdoorings,
and funerals are increasingly being celebrated in
the Islamic way. Nevertheless, most household or
lineage heads, who profess to be Muslims, still
continue to offer ritual sacrifices on behalf of their
members.
Islam and Islamic practices have also been irre-
versibly entrenched in the Mamprusi social and po-
litical system. Islamic clerics are among the most
respected persons within the Mamprusi society.
They contribute significantly to legitimizing the
position of the traditional leadership at all levels of
the political hierarchy. Every paramount chief ap-
points and enskins one of the Muslim clerics as the
Chief Imam or leader of the Muslim community.
The paramount chief frequently consults his Chief
Imam and other Imams residing in the province
on matters affecting the stability and well-being of
the province. The Chief Imam also visits the chief
regularly. He also prays regularly for the chief and
would inform him about any events or occurrences
that are likely to affect his person or his reign.
Generally, it is common for the community of
Muslims and their Imams to try and expand their
influence on the paramount chief and other royals,
and thereby hope to improve upon their own social
status within the community.
5 See Wilks (1965: 91) for a similar development among the
neighbouring Dagomba.
The 2001 Contest for Paramount Chiefship
The contest for the position of paramount chief
(i.e., the wunaba) of the Wungu Province com-
menced immediately after the death of the incum-
bent chief was announced. All the 11 contestants
presented gifts of kola nuts, livestock, and cash to
the bereaved family. After the performance of the
burial ceremony, the prospective successors for-
mally went and “greeted” the members of the late
chiefs family. After the 7th day prayers (adoa),
the Nayiri installed the late chiefs eldest son as
the regent of the province. The regent traditionally
administers the province until the Nayiri appoints
a substantive person as the paramount chief of
the province. It was after the installation of the
regent that the contestants publicly declared their
participation in the race for the chiefship position.
All the candidates wore a white turban, both as a
public display of their participation in the contest
and as an indication that the province was without
a chief.
The campaign for the chiefship typically in-
volves the contestants lobbying the Nayiri, the
elders of Nalerigu and more recently, members
of the NayirV s family for the position. Each of
the contestants travelled to his “landlord” (kpama
yebame) in Nalerigu and informed him about his
intention to participate in the contest. It is the
duty of the landlord to introduce “his candidate”
to the Nayiri, his elders, and all persons con-
sidered to be close to the corridors of powers in
Nalerigu.
After this initial visit to Nalerigu, each con-
testant then sets up his “campaign team” in the
provincial capital. The team was typically made
up of a core group of trusted friends. It is the
responsibility of the campaign team to personally
contact all influential persons in Nalerigu and to
lobby the Nayiri and his elders on behalf of the
contestant. Another major role of the campaign
team is to present the virtues of their candidate
to the kingmakers and bring to light the limita-
tions or weaknesses of the rival candidates. The
period between the installation of the regent and
the performance of the late chiefs funeral was
devoted entirely to the campaign efforts.6 Each
contestant and members of his team made sever-
al visits to the Nayiri and his elders to canvass
6 The funeral celebrations for a deceased chief usually take
place several months after he is buried. In Mamprugu, fu-
nerals are usually celebrated during the dry season (January-
April) when there are only a few economic activities in the
area.
Anthropos 101.2006
29
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
for their support. During such visits, the con-
testants made donations of livestock, kola nuts,
and cash to the Nayiri, his wives, and children
as well as his elders. All the contestants in the
2001 chiefship contest recounted having visited
Nalerigu between seven and ten times during the
period of the campaign (cf. Drucker Brown 1975:
49).
The general atmosphere in the Wungu Province
during the campaign period was tense and the
chiefship contest dominated all aspects of life.
Supporters of the various candidates were engaged
in house-to-house lobbying of the inhabitants in
an attempt to win public support and sympathy
for their candidate. A common strategy employed
by the supporters was to try and demoralise their
opponents by emphasizing their weaknesses. Other
campaigners were engaged in rumourmongering as
well as peddling information that would tarnish
the image of persons considered to be the leading
candidates. Members of the contestant’s campaign
team would also run errands on behalf of their can-
didate and eavesdrop on the campaign strategies of
their opponents. Though not the most significant
factor in the selection process, it is widely held
that the popularity of a candidate becomes relevant
when the competition becomes narrowed down to
a few candidates. Hence, the desire of each contes-
tant to command the support of as many residents
in the province as possible. As the competition
heated up, the provincial capital became divided
along the four sections or “gates” to which the
candidates belonged. Individuals from one sec-
tion of the town who crossed into another section
were looked upon with suspicion and stalked to
monitor their activities. Most of the candidates
also went into seclusion and avoided meeting their
competitors, except during periods of obligatory
public functions. They also did not eat or drink
iu public, out of fear of being poisoned by their
°PPonents.
The performance of the late chief’s funeral
marked a turning point in the competition for
the chiefship. Each of the contestants slaugh-
tered cattle, sheep, and poultry towards the fu-
neral celebrations. Since the contributions of each
contestant were publicly announced, the contes-
tants tried to outdo each other with respect to
the quantity of items and the amount they do-
nated during the funeral celebration. Furthermore,
each contestant made substantial contributions in
cash and kind to the Nayiri’ s delegation to the
uneral. The contestants also showered gifts of
§rain, household items, and livestock to each mem-
er of the delegation in accordance with their
Anth
perceived importance in the Mamprugu royal hi-
erarchy.7
After the performance of the late chief’s fu-
neral, the Nayiri then fixed the day on which the
paramount chief would be selected and installed.
The regent, in accordance with tradition, sent the
late chief’s regalia (kpanjorku) to the Nayiri in
Nalerigu. Among the items traditionally carried
along included the late chief’s smock, his sandals,
hat, trouser, hoe, cutlass, pickax, horse, and some
cash amount, presumed to be his savings. Each
contestant then departed Wungu for Nalerigu via
Gambaga, accompanied by members of his cam-
paign team, his family, relatives, close friends, and
numerous well-wishers and supporters.
The arrival of the contestants in Nalerigu
marked the final and the most intensive phase in
the campaign for the paramount chiefship. During
this period, the lobbying activities of the contes-
tants were concentrated on the kingmakers in Na-
lerigu. Each contestant presented gifts of livestock,
kola nuts, and cash to the Nayiri, senior members
of his family, and his elders in a desperate attempt
to win their favour. A frequently mentioned event
is where each of the contestants accompanied by
his relatives and supporters danced to the tune of
the traditional drummers (lunsi), in the presence of
the Nayiri. Thereafter, they then proceeded to the
Nayiri’s court where they paid some cash amount
as registration fees and then explained why they
were participating in the contest. In the Nayiri’s
court, some of the contestants again “greeted” the
Nayiri and his wives and made some cash dona-
tions.
The sounds of the local drums (tumpane)
brought all lobbying activities to an end as it
indicated that the Nayiri had finally decided on the
winner. Upon hearing the drums, all the contes-
tants and their supporters gathered at the Nayiri’s
palace for the enskinment ceremony. Immediately
the winner was announced, all the losing con-
testants accepted the Nayiri’s decision, showed a
brave face, and rallied behind the winner. The
newly enskined paramount chief offered livestock
for the completion of the ceremony and made the
necessary arrangement for his triumphant return
home.
7 The NayirV s delegation included one of his wives, his son,
some elders of Nalerigu, and the lunsi. Each contestant
gave the Nayiri s wife a cow, food items, and an undis-
closed cash amount, while the Nayiri's son was given a
sheep and some cash amount. The elders were each given
a fowl and some alcoholic and nonalcoholic drinks. The
Nayiri's wife was also given some household items such
as lanterns, slippers, soap, towels, buckets, and clothes for
her return trip home.
lroPos 101.2006
30
Steve Tonah
The Role of Diviners and Malams
in the Contest for Chiefship
We have already indicated that diviners and
malams are an inextricable part of the social,
religious, and political landscape in Mampmgu
and other traditional polities in northern Ghana.
They have varying roles including many that are in
the social, psychological, and the religious spheres.
It was also clearly stated that the activities of
diviners and malams affect all aspects of life of
persons in the communities in which they resided.
They play an indispensable role in the maintenance
of social control and the establishment of law and
order within the society. Diviners and malams,
by their special ability to communicate with the
ancestors and God, regulate the lives of members
of their communities. Their roles, though largely
religious, have direct implications for interpersonal
relations and group behaviour within the society.
They provide direct psychological support to the
afflicted within the society, and explain the causes
of diverse (negative) events and occurrences in the
lives of the individual and the society.
We also indicated that diviners and malams
have traditionally been associated with the practice
of governance at all levels of the political hierar-
chy. Most of the chiefs have their own diviners
and malams whom they consult regularly and from
whom they seek advice on pertinent decisions
and the implications of such decisions. Some of
the chiefs also rely increasingly on their Muslim
advisers. These advisers are directly accountable
to the chiefs and depended on their patronage
for their security and prosperity. In particular, the
opinions of diviners and malams have been closely
associated with the appointment or selection of
suitable candidates among a number of competi-
tors for a vacant traditional title or chieftaincy po-
sition. Davis (1987: 633) argues with respect to the
Mamprusi that during the precolonial days, three
tendana were instrumental in the choice of a new
Nayiri. They would consult the diviners (knowing
very well that there were many contestants from
different gates and only one person could be given
the title) and then announce the winner of the
contest. Similarly, Rattray (1932: 581 f.) notes that
in neighbouring Dagbon, soothsayers (baga) set
themselves apart from the community to consult
on which of the candidates they were to recom-
mend as “Ya Na,” the king of the Dagomba. The
importance of malams and diviners in governance
is reflected in the popular Mamprusi parlance
that “no chief can reign without the support of
malams.”
The contest for chiefship is just as much a
competition to influence the Nayiri and all other
persons considered to be among the “kingmak-
ers.” It is a spiritual and a psychological battle
among the contestants. The practice of consulting
diviners (baasi), and Muslim teachers (malams or
ofa) during chieftaincy contests is very common
in Mampmgu. Each contestant employs several
diviners and malams during the period of the cam-
paign. Preference is given to diviners and malams
from far and wide, who are unlikely to know the
background of the contestants and would, there-
fore, be able to soothsay independently. During
the 2001 contest, some of the diviners and malams
came from as far as Nigeria, Burkina Faso, Mali,
and southern Ghana. The duties of these religious
leaders were to spiritually strengthen their clients
and “to protect them from the spiritual and psycho-
logical attacks of their opponents.”8 These diviners
and malams are expected to soothsay the fortunes
of the contestants and ensure the success of their
clients through prayers and the performance of
the necessary rituals of sacrifice. They are also
expected to fervently pray for the well-being of
their candidates and device ways and means of
improving their chances of winning the title. Many
Mamprusi believe that without such spiritual and
psychological support, their opponents could elim-
inate them from the race by making them physi-
cally deformed or ill during the critical phase of
the campaign or their closest rivals may even kill
them. Besides, diviners and malams are believed
to have the powers of foretelling future events and
altering the course of these events through prayers,
sacrifices, consultation of oracles, and fasting. It is
also believed that they can considerably improve
upon the chances of their clients or remove obsta-
cles that may eventually prevent a candidate from
being selected as the paramount chief.
The spiritual preparations of the candidates
constitute the most expensive aspect of the entire
contest (Tonah 2005). All of the contestants in
the 2001 race indicated having spent most of
their resources on hiring and consulting diviners,
malams, and other spiritualists. The contestants
in the 2001 race also indicated being requested
by their diviners and malams to perform the
following activities; slaughtering cattle and sharing
the meat among the inhabitants to improve upon
their chances of being selected; sacrificing sheep to
remove obstacles standing between the candidate
and the chiefship; and sacrificing poultry to the
8 Tonah, fieldnote 7/21; Interview with Zongo Lunsi, 11th
January 2003, Wungu.
Anthropos 101.2006
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
31
ancestors “so that those who hate you and intend to
obstruct your campaign would temporarily forget
about you till the contest is over.”9 Indeed, the
demands of diviners and malams on their clients
appear unlimited and tend to increase as the
competition heats up. Besides the expenses for
boarding and cash amount given to the malams
and diviners as “consultation fees,” it is common
for the candidates to provide cattle, small stock,
and poultry to be used in ritual sacrifices. One
candidate informed me that he was advised to be
extremely generous by giving alms and to purchase
a number of smocks so as to improve upon his
chances of clinching the title.10
During the 2001 contest for paramount chief-
ship in the Wungu province, all the contestants
hired local and foreign malams and diviners that
they consulted regularly throughout the period of
the contest. One of the candidates informed me
that these malams and diviners were usually hired
uPon the recommendations of their friends, rela-
tives, and supporters. Other contestants relied on
uaalams and diviners hired by their relatives in the
Past, especially when such persons were successful
ln their quest for chiefship positions.11
The various candidates avoid malams and di-
viners working for any of their competitors, lest
their secrets be revealed to the competitors. Sim-
ilarly, each contestant would also avoid malams
and diviners known to be closely associated with
the household/lineage of his competitors or those
from the same section of the settlement as their
competitors. Here again, it is feared that such
malams and diviners may reveal their secrets to
their rivals. This also explains why many contes-
tants place much more confidence in malams and
diviners who are not resident in Mamprugu. The
fnore distant the relationship of the contestant is to
his malam and diviners, the better, as it is believed
that persons close to them are likely to be biased
m their advice.
Given that the contest for chiefship is not only
a Physical contest among the rival candidates but
also a spiritual one, all of the contestants seek
the services of diviners and malams not only to
lrnprove their chances of being selected but also
to protect themselves from the “spiritual attacks”
°f their rivals. Relations between the contestants
were very tense throughout the entire period of the
9 Tonah, fieldnote 7/13: Interview with Kassem (Krosidana),
Hth January 2003, Wungu.
°nah, fieldnote 7/31: Interview with the Kpalorana, 12th
January 2003, Wungu.
onah, fieldnote 7/36: Interview with the Kpalorana, 12th
January 2003, Wungu.
Anthropos 101.2006
contest. Each candidate was not only suspicious
of his competitors but all persons related to or
closely associated with any of their rivals. The
contestants did not meet or see their rivals during
the entire period of the contest until the winner
was declared. The only exception was when all
the contestants had to come together to perform
a function or to deliberate on issues of public
concern. Such meetings were held at the regent’s
home, which is considered to be a neutral place by
all the contestants.
It is widely believed that a contestant may spiri-
tually harm any person considered to be his closest
rival and thereby deprive him of the possibility
of being selected as the paramount chief. This
could involve a candidate getting his closest rival
deformed so that the latter may be disqualified
from the contest. It may also involve “pouring sand
into the eyes of the rival candidate to make him
blind,” or “by firing missiles at their opponents and
thus eliminate the spiritually weak ones amongst
them,” or “spiritually beating the opponents back-
bone until he becomes incapacitated.” Similarly,
it is widely believed that some of the contestants
smear their eyes with magical objects (chum) that
enable them “to see missiles directed at them by
their rivals and, therefore, respond by redirecting
these missiles before they can cause any harm.”
Some candidates claimed their rivals could bury
special objects (samu) in the ground with the intent
of trapping any of their competitors who may walk
over such objects. Rival candidates who walk over
such objects may become lame and as a result get
disqualified from the contest. This explains why
candidates for the chiefship contest are advised to
confine themselves to their homes as much as pos-
sible and avoid going out barefooted throughout
the period of the entire contest.12 *
All the contestants in the 2001 chiefship race
indicated that their main reason for consulting
malams and diviners was to assist them win
the contest. Many indicated that it was not only
possible for malams and diviners to foretell future
occurrences but they could through prayers and
sacrifices manipulate events in favour of their
clients. All of the contestants also indicated that
they consulted these soothsayers “as a method of
fortifying themselves against the evil intentions of
their opponents and evil wishers.” Some indicated
being afraid of being harmed by their opponents
and, therefore, wanted some form of protection
during the period of the contest.
12 Tonah, fieldnote 7/28: Interview with Zongo Lunsi, 11th
January 2003, Wungu.
32
Steve Tonah
It was common for malams and diviners to
report positively on the chances of their clients
during the contest. They also informed their clients
on what they should do to protect what they
claimed to be the good chances of being selected
or what they could do to improve upon their
chances. Many Mamprusi believe that malams
are able to increase ones chances of clinching
the title by improving upon one’s personality.
Candidates are believed to be able to acquire the
gift of convincing people easily as a result of their
improved personality. Furthermore, diviners and
malams are trusted with the ability to change the
mind of those who dislike their clients or compel
their detractors to temporarily forget about them
until the contest is over.
Limits to the Role of Malams and Diviners
Contrary to popular opinion in the province, most
of the contestants’ expenditure during the contest
for chiefship did not come from cash and material
gifts given to the Nayiri, his children, and his
elders. Instead, it was the expenses on hiring and
consulting malams and diviners that constituted the
bulk of what the contestants spent during the entire
period of the campaign. All of the contestants in
the 2001 contest spent more on spiritual consul-
tations than on any other item (see Tonah 2005).
Given the intense competition for chiefship in the
Wungu Province, most of the contestants claimed
that they could not have survived the entire cam-
paign period without the support of spiritualists
such as malams and diviners. Despite the consid-
erable time and resources expended on malams and
diviners, all of the contestants were aware of the
limitations on their ability to positively influence
the course of events.
Malams and diviners are consulted partly be-
cause failure to do so would likely undermine
the social cohesion within the Mamprusi society.
Many contestants had lost successive contests in
the last two decades despite the assurances given
to them by their malams and diviners. Spiritualists
are consulted not so much because of their con-
tribution to the success of the candidate but out
of personal fear that rival candidates could harm
them. Some of the contestants indicated that they
did not want their relatives and supporters to blame
their inability to clinch the chiefship title on their
failure to hire “powerful malams and diviners.”13
13 Tonah, fieldnote 6/106: Interview with Jaboni Nabila
(Akara), 13th January 2003, Wungu.
The contestants are well aware that although
all of them consult malams and diviners, only one
person out of the lot would be given the title during
any contest. Most contestants are also well aware
of the limitations of these religious leaders, and
tend to stress the fact that it is God and not malams
or diviners who ultimately gives the chiefship to
the individual. Malams, diviners, and other juju
men are, after all, also human beings with their
own limitations and failings. It is widely believed
that although diviners and malams may strive to
ensure that their clients are selected as chiefs,
it is God that ultimately gives the title to the
winner. One of the candidates puts it succinctly
thus;
You can bring many malams but once God has said
that you’ll get it, then I believe you’ll get it. You may
bring many malams but it is God who decides whom
to give the thing [chiefship] to. Whatever the power
of your malam, God will give it to whoever he wants
to give it to ... the use of malams is so rampant, it’s
been happening. If you have long life and your life is
coming to an end and you go to the hospital, whatever
be the case, even if they give you all the medicines in
the world, it will not help. If your time has come, no
doctor can help you. They’ll say they should continue to
treat you. Several doctors and specialists may come and
treat you with their medicines but nothing will happen.
Your condition will not improve.14
Another contestant shared this scepticism about
the role of malams and diviners and attributed
the choice of a candidate to divine (God’s) will
thus;
The malams will promise you everything. If you knew
how you can harm your closest challengers, you can
even do that during the heat of the competition but
God has not given them [the malams] the power to
do that. No matter the number of malams they bring,
whatever they intend to do to harm your challenges
will not happen. You are all struggling. You may bring
another malam, saying that the old ones are not strong
enough, tell him to kill the challenger. The malam will
do all he can but all the medicine will not work. The
challenger will be there. They all do that but they don’t
succeed. During the heat of the contest, they can even
feel like killing their challengers but its not possible. It’s
God who decides and not the malams.”15
14 Tonah, fieldnote 6/154: Interview with Na Zouri, 11th
January 2003, Wungu.
15 Tonah, fieldnote 6/153; Interview with an anonymous per-
son, 11th January 2003, Wungu.
Anthropos 101.2006
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
33
Discussion and Conclusion
In Mamprugu and elsewhere in northern Ghana,
the number of persons contesting for chieftaincy
positions when they become vacant has increased
considerably over the last two decades. Compe-
tition for paramount chiefship positions has not
only become keener but more exorbitant. All of
the candidates in the 2001 contest for the Wungu
paramount chiefship indicated that the high and
rising cost of competing for the chiefship has
been the most significant change in the contest
in the past decades. I have argued elsewhere that
the intense nature of the competition for chiefship
and the consequent allocation of huge amount of
Personal, household, and affinal resources to the
contest has resulted not only in the impoverish-
tnent of the royal elite but large sections of the
Population in the Wungu province in particular,
and Mamprugu in general (Tonah 2005).
At all levels of the political hierarchy, royals
contesting for a chiefship position have to lobby
a higher chief and a cohort of kingmakers with
gifts including cash, livestock, foodstuff, and other
rtems. This process has resulted in the siphoning
of resources from royals and households at a lower
level to a higher level of governance throughout
the state. The tendency is, therefore, for individ-
uals and institutions at the lowest levels of the
Political hierarchy to remain impoverished while
r°yals at the highest levels are much better placed
ln terms of resources.
The increasing commercialization and moneti-
zation of the contest for chiefship means that only
r°yals, who are able to mobilize funds beyond
what they can obtain from their immediate house-
hold members, stand a good chance of clinching
the chiefship position. This situation makes it eas-
!er for royals with chieftaincy titles to rise faster
ln the political hierarchy. Nontitled royals have
Very few opportunities for mobilising supporters
and funds. A profile of the candidates for the
2001 paramount chiefship contest indicated that
out of the 11 candidates were titled men. A
ew of them were holders of significant chieftaincy
Positions within the paramountcy. These include
|he chiefs of Zangu (Zangurana), Miso (Misorana),
Kuba (Kubrana), Sakpaba (Sakpabrana), Logri II
tGurnurana), Tampin (Tampinrana), and Kosobi
rivosubirana). Only two of the candidates were
n°ntitle holders. One result of the commercializa-
hon of chieftaincy contests is that positions of high
0 bee are becoming the preserve of titled persons
bo can marshal resources required for the stiff
competition. Contestants who are able to mobilise
Anthropos 101.2006
considerable financial and material support from
their relatives, subjects, and supporters stand a
better chance of being victorious. Contestants with
a chieftaincy position also have a better support
base from which to mobilise moral, religious, ma-
terial, and financial support required to finance
the huge costs of campaigning for the chiefship.
The financial implications of contesting for the
paramountcy chiefship were reiterated by one of
the subchiefs of the province thus:
You need a lot of money for the campaign. Whether
you like it or not, you will spend a lot. This will include
animals, cows, sheep, and fowls. You will be going there
[Nalerigu] up and down. The Nayiri may also charge
you a huge amount and ask you whether you can afford
to pay the amount if you are selected as wunaba. In
the past years, the charges and expenses were moderate.
Those days, people were poor. The money has changed
everything. This is because of the competition. If you are
a poor man, do you think you can contest? If we were
using gates, things would have been better. The position
will be rotating amongst the various gates. Because
the competitors are now many, that’s why the cost of
campaigning and the charges are so high.
While a section of the population in Mamprugu
blame the appointing authority and institutions as-
sociated with the selection process for having con-
tributed to the increasing cost of the competition,
others put the blame squarely on the contestants.
The fact of the matter is that, both the candidates
and the selector/s are responsible for what is gen-
erally considered to be an undesirable situation
where the wealth of the candidates becomes a
major determining criteria not only for entering the
race for chiefship but for clinching a chieftaincy
title. However, in spite of these observations, the
competition for chiefship in Mamprugu, though
keen, is not yet overly commercialized and the
kind of development referred to by Arhin Brem-
pong (2000) as “elite succession” and the usurpa-
tion of the rights of royals by wealthy, nonroyal
members of the society, as frequently found in
southern Ghana, is largely nonexistent.
Mendonsa (2001: 66 f.) argues that the occupa-
tion of a chieftaincy position still offers the oc-
cupant considerable social status and preferential
treatment within the society and beyond. Chief-
taincy has caught on even among the so-called
acephalous groups in northern Ghana, not only
because of the prestige of office but mainly be-
cause it continues to serve as an avenue to power,
wealth, and prestige within the society. This has
even become more so since the successful incor-
poration of the educated elite into the chieftain-
34
Steve Tonah
cy institution. During the colonial and immedi-
ate postcolonial period, the educated elite, most
of whom were graduates of missionary schools,
shunned chieftaincy positions as they were deemed
to be incompatible with their Christian training and
their levels of educational training. Even where
they were royals and seen as the appropriate
successor to a vacant chieftaincy position, they
chose to leave it for their less educated, nonpro-
fessional, and more traditionalist relatives. This
position has almost completely been reversed in
the postcolonial period. Individuals with high aca-
demic credentials are now craving for chieftain-
cy positions with persons who have little formal
education and training. Obtaining a chieftaincy
title is increasingly seen as the most befitting
way to retire from their academic or professional
carriers.
The increasing number of contestants and the
keen competition for paramount chiefship in Wun-
gu has resulted in a transformation of the role
of religious leaders (diviners and malams) in the
contest. The ability of diviners and malams to
protect and provide relief of all sorts to the in-
dividual through the intervention of the ancestors,
or rather God, accounts for their increasing use
in the competition for chiefship. It is significant
to note that diviners and malams are considered
not as competitors but as complementary sources,
both of which aid the contestants in their desire to
become the paramount chief. This pluralistic and
pragmatic approach to the use of spiritualists in
meeting challenges is common throughout West
Africa. Clients can negotiate with their diviners
and malams. The spiritualists are expected to con-
tinue their prayers and divination, even if this in-
volves some form of manipulation until the intend-
ed objectives are achieved - if not during a par-
ticular contest, then in the next one; if not by the
candidate who hired them, then by one of his
offsprings.
Finally, diviners and malams, by their support
and close association with the political leadership
of the state, also contribute immensely to the
stability of the entire political system and the rule
of the royal elite. Goody (1966: 21 f.) argues that
whatever the procedure used for selecting from
among a pool of candidates, “the human choice
often requires the confirmation of divine authority.
Either the electors themselves are seen as guided
by God (or by his clergy), or else they resort to
some material device in order to divine the wishes
of the unseen powers ... For in putting the onus
upon luck or the Gods, men remove an element of
friction from their own affairs.”
References Cited
Arhin Brempong, Nana
2000 Elite Succession among the Matrilineal Akan of Ghana.
In: J. de Pina-Cabral and A. Pedroso de Lima (eds.).
Elites. Choice, Leadership, and Succession; pp. 75-89.
Oxford: Berg.
Alhassan, Anamzoya
2004 A Sociological Enquiry into the Yendi Chieftaincy Con-
flict. Legón. [Unpublished M. Phil. Thesis, Department
of Sociology, University of Ghana, Legón]
Amadu, Issifu
2002 Mamprugu under British Colonial Rule, 1896-1956.
Legón. [M. Phil. Thesis, Department of History, Uni-
versity of Ghana, Legón]
Benda-Beckmann, Franz von
1997 Citizens, Strangers, and Indigenous Peoples. Conceptual
Politics and Legal Pluralism. Law and Anthropology
9: 1-42.
Boone, Catherine
1994 Accumulating Wealth, Consolidating Power. Rentierism
in Senegal. In: B. Berman and C. Leys (eds.), African
Capitalists in African Development; pp. 121-156. Boul-
der: Lynne Rienner Publishers.
Callaghy, M. Thomas
1994 State, Choice, and Context. Comparative Reflections
on Reform and Intractability. In: D. E. Apter and C. G.
Rosberg (eds.), Political Development and the New
Realism in Sub-Saharan Africa; pp. 184-219. Char-
lottesville: University Press of Virginia.
Clapham, Christopher
1985 Third World Politics. An Introduction. London; Rout-
ledge.
Davis, David Carson
1984 Continuity and Change in Mamprugu. A Study of
Tradition as Ideology. Evanston. [Ph.D. Dissertation,
Northwestern University, Evanston, U.S.A.]
1987 “Then the White Man Came with His Whitish Ideas
...” The British and the Evolution of Traditional Gov-
ernment in Mampurugu. The International Journal of
African Historical Studies 20: 627-646.
Drucker Brown, Susan
1975 Ritual Aspects of the Mamprusi Kingship. Leiden:
Afrika-Studiecentrum. (African Social Research Doc-
uments, 8)
Dzorgbo, Dan Bright
1998 Ghana in Search of Development. Uppsala: Reprocen-
tralen HSC.
Fortes, Meyer
1970 The Political System of the Tallensi of the Northern
Territories of the Gold Coast. In; M. Fortes and E.
E. Evans-Pritchard (eds.), African Political Systems;
pp. 239-271. London: Oxford University Press.
Goody, Jack
1996 Succession to High Office. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press. (Cambridge Papers in Social Anthropol-
ogy, 4)
Anthropos 101.2006
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
35
Iddrisu, Abdulai
2002 The Growth of Islamic Learning in Northern Ghana
and Its Interaction with Western Secular Education.
(Paper presented at the 10th Codesria General Assembly
Meeting, at the Nile International Conference Centre,
Kampala, Uganda, 8th—12th December 2002)
Jackson, R. H., and C. G. Rosberg
1994 The Political Economy of Personal Rule. In: D. E. Apter
and C. G. Rosberg (eds.), Political Development and
the New Realism in Sub-Saharan Africa; pp. 291-322.
Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia.
Ladouceur, Paul
1972 The Yendi Chieftaincy Dispute and Ghanaian Politics.
Canadian Journal of African Studies 6: 97-115.
Lentz, Carola
1993 Histories and Political Conflict. A Case Study of Chief-
taincy in Nandom, Northwestern Ghana. Paideuma
39:177-215.
2000 “Tradition” versus “Politics.” Succession Conflicts in
a Chiefdom of North-Western Ghana. In: J. de Pina-
Cabral and A. Pedroso de Lima (eds.), Elites. Choice,
Leadership, and Succession; pp. 91-112. Oxford: Berg.
^lendonsa, L. Eugene
2001 Continuity and Change in a West African Society.
Globalization’s Impact on the Sisala of Ghana. Durham:
Carolina Academic Press.
Owusu-Ansah, David
2000 Prayer, Amulets, and Healing. In: N. Levtzion and R. L.
Pouwels (eds.), The History of Islam in Africa; pp. 477-
488. Athens: Ohio University Press.
Rattray, R. S.
1932 The Tribes of the Ashanti Hinterland. Vol. 2. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.
КаУ, Donald I.
1998 Chief-State Relations in Ghana. Divided Sovereign-
ty and Legitimacy. In: E. A. B. van Rouveroy van
Nieuwaal and W. Zips (eds.), Sovereignty, Legitimacy,
and Power in West African Societies. Perspectives from
Legal Anthropology; pp. 48-69. Hamburg: Lit Verlag.
(African Studies, 10)
Reikat, Andrea
112 Das Naam oder “Der Wille zur Macht”. Der Fall des
Königs von Tenkodogo (Burkina Faso, Westafrika).
Paideuma 48; 77-99.
Schlottner, Micheál
2000 We Stay, Others Come and Go. Identity among the
Mamprusi in Northern Ghana. In: C. Lentz and P. Nu-
gent (eds.), Ethnicity in Ghana. The Limits of Invention;
pp. 49-67. London: Macmillan Press.
Skalnik, Peter
1987 On the Inadequacy of the Concept of the “Traditional
State.” Journal of Legal Pluralism 25-26: 301-325.
1996 Authority versus Power. Democracy in Africa Must
Include Original African Institutions. Journal of Legal
Pluralism 37-38: 109-121.
Staniland, Martin
1975 The Lions of Dagbon. Political Change in Northern
Ghana. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Tonah, Steve
2003 Conflicts and Consensus between Migrant Fulani Herds-
men and Mamprusi Farmers in Northern Ghana. In:
F. Kroger and B. Meier (eds.), Ghana’s North. Research
on Culture, Religion, and Politics of Societies in Tran-
sition; pp. 79-99. Frankfurt: Peter Lang.
2005 Competition for Chiefship and the Impoverishment of
the Royal Elite in Mamprugu/Northern Ghana. African
Studies Review. [Fortcoming]
WMDA (West Mamprusi District Assembly)
2000 Five Year Medium Term Development Plan 1996-2000.
Walewale: WMDA.
Wilks, Ivor
1963 The Growth of Islamic Learning in Ghana. Journal of
the Historical Society of Nigeria 2/4: 409-417.
1965 A Note on the Early Spread of Islam in Dagomba.
Transactions of the Historical Society of Ghana 8; 87-
97.
1989 Wa and the Wala. Islam and Polity in Northwest-
ern Ghana. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
(African Studies Series, 63)
Zips, Werner, and E. Adriaan B. van Rouveroy van Nieu-
waal
1998 Political and Legal Pluralism in West Africa. Intro-
duction and Overview. In: E. A. B. van Rouveroy van
Nieuwaal and W. Zips (eds.), Sovereignty, Legitimacy,
and Power in West African Societies. Perspectives from
Legal Anthropology; pp. ix-xxiii. Hamburg: Lit Verlag.
(African Studies, 10)
Anth
lroPos 101.2006
STUDIA INSUTUI I ANTHROPOS SO
PhiliposTule
Philipus Tule
Longing for the House of
God, Dwelling in the House
of the Ancestors
Local Belief, Christianity, and Islam
among the Keo of Central Flores
Longing
for the House
o f God
Dwelling in
the House of the
Ancestors
Collection : Studia Instituti Anthropos,
volume 50
The society of Keo of Central Flores, Eastern
Indonesia, houses pervasive treasures of re-
ligions, culture, and history. Apart from in-
troducing a hitherto undescribed population,
this book, which is derived from the author’s
extended research and living experiences among the Keo, presents analysis on major
issues of religion, culture, identity, and local ideology involving rituals, social organiza-
tion, and marriage alliance within the frame of anthropology of religion. Although, most
of the Keo are Muslims and Catholics, they still perceive their local beliefs and culture as
part of their identity. For the Keo people, Islam and Christianity are not only the practiced
religions embedded in their Holy Books but also the basis for what they believe and do
everyday, how they live in their traditional« house-based » and « basket-based » con-
texts. The monotheistic beliefs acquire certain elements from Keo culture and in turn,
Keo culture adopts and adapts certain elements from both monotheistic faiths and ways
of life. One typical characteristic of Keo society is that the incultu ration the interaction be-
tween the monotheistic religions and Keo culture - both in Islam and Catholicism stems
not only from the contextualization and the renewal movement of these monotheistic
religions but also from a deeprooted and continuing subconscious adherence to their lo-
cal beliefs, which produces a harmonious and tolerant culture based on land, settlement,
house, consanguineous and affinal relationships.
XXVI-366 pages, paperback,
Fr. 75.-/€ 50-
ISBN 3-7278-1478-0
ACADEMY
PRESS
FRIB
Anthropos
101.2006: 37-53
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
Johannes Harnischfeger
Abstract. - In the Middle Belt of Nigeria, between the Muslim
n°rth and the Christian south of the country, ownership of land
is contested between Hausa-Fulani “settlers” from the north
ar*d “indigenous” ethnic groups which are mostly Christian
and traditionalist. The migrants, who are still a minority, try to
sPread their faith among the “native” population. Those who
convert tend to assume the language, culture, and political
loyalties of the Hausa-Fulani settlers. This process of ethnic
conversion has been reinforced by the recent Sharia campaign.
Wuh the call to fight for Sharia, indigenous Muslims are
PM under pressure to prove that their new faith is more
important to them than their old “tribal” loyalties. Where armed
conflicts broke out, most converts sided with the Hausa-Fulani
migrants and fought, in the name of religion, against their
(former) Christian or traditionalist kin. [Nigeria, Middle Belt,
Pr°selytism, Sharia, Hausa-Fulani domination, land conflicts,
minority rights]
Johannes Harnischfeger, Dr. phil., studied Ethnology, Phi-
losophy, Political Science, and German Studies. He lectured at
universities in Kenya, Nigeria, and South Africa. Data for this
urticle were collected during field research for the University of
rankfurt and its SFB “Westafrican Savannah.” - Publications:
See References Cited.
freedom of religion, as it is understood in the
context of Western human rights, includes the right
to Proselytise. Believers may talk freely about their
convictions, and they are entitled to share and
Practise their faith with others. These rights are
°nly limited where they violate the rights of other
Persons. No citizen must be exposed to religious
Messages where he or she cannot evade them, say
in a classroom or in an office. In order to protect
the rights of individuals from being infringed,
state authorities may have to restrain obtrusive
Propaganda, but otherwise religious organisations
should be allowed to compete freely, without
the state favouring or hindering any of them.
Religious competition would then have a “level
playing field,” a kind of market where ideas can
be exchanged without hindrance and citizens are
free to decide whether to accept or reject them
(An-Na’im 1999: 6; Lerner 1998: 4). To make this
liberal model work, all participants simply have
to agree on a number of rules which focus on
the protection of individual human rights: every-
body is free to spread his ideas and win con-
verts, provided he does not use unfair or coercive
means.
In northern Nigeria, where some state govern-
ments have introduced a strict form of Sharia
law, it is obvious that citizens are exposed to
undue religious pressure. Muslim politicians use
the police and other state institutions to enforce
religious conformity within their own community
and to marginalise the minority of non-Muslims.
Members of small ethnic groups, which are large-
ly Christian or “traditionalist,” complain that the
Muslim majority, most of them Hausa-Fulani, have
been spreading their religion by illegitimate po-
litical means. But their concern is not just about
unfair methods. Many of them resent Islamic pros-
elytism as such, as they feel it may erode the
social cohesion and integrity of their ethnic groups.
Muslim proselytisers try to change radically the
identity and lifestyle of their target groups, be-
cause they assume that their own culture is su-
perior to others. Those affected, however, may see
the attempt to dissolve the religious and cultural
traditions of “infidels” as an intrusion, which is
threatening the survival of their community; “The
indigenous ethnic groups ... will not want to
38
Johannes Harnischfeger
lose their ethnic identity due to the Islamization”
0Committee 2000; 47). Ethnic leaders, speaking on
behalf of their communities, do not argue on the
basis of individual human rights, they invoke the
right to preserve a collective existence against the
intrusion of outsiders.
Trying to ward off the corrosive influence of a
foreign religion is seen, from a liberal perspec-
tive, as an illegitimate form of resistance, bom
out of intolerance and ill-conceived notions of
ethnic purity. Ethnic or national leaders who try
to prevent group members from changing their
religious identity often claim that their own re-
ligion, which was first on the scene, is an essential
part of the community. Thus they feel entitled to
limit their people’s freedom of religion. Among
ethnic minorities like the Tangale or Dadiya, on
which the second part of this article will focus,
attempts to preserve their collective identities have
indeed violated individual religious rights.1 Group
members who converted to Islam have been urged
to renounce their new faith, and in cases of violent
conflicts, some of their mosques have been burnt.
Yet this illiberal behaviour was not motivated by
notions of ethnic purity. Tangale or Dadiya “na-
tionalists” do not try to preserve the monopoly
of an ancestral religion, and they do not argue
a myth of cultural unity for which this religion
would be essential. In principle, most of them
would concede that each individual may choose
the type of religion he or she likes. You can
be a good Tangale while attending a Catholic
or Evangelical Church, or while participating in
the rites of traditional cults. You may even join
those Mam cults which probably originated far
away in Hausa land and found their way into
southern Gombe only in recent times. But most
Tangale resent the fact that fellow Tangale have
been converting to Islam because this change of re-
ligious identity often entails an ethnic conversion.
Those who adopt a Muslim name tend to assume
the language, dress, and manners of the demo-
graphically and politically predominant people, the
Hausa. With these outward signs, their ethnic loy-
alties change as well, and this has profound con-
sequences for the local balance of power. When
ethnic groups clash in competition over scarce
land resources, converts tend to side with their
1 The Tangale, with an estimated two to three hundred
thousand members, are the biggest ethnic group in Kaltungo
and Biliri, two local government areas in the south of
Gombe State. While I visited Nigeria for three months in
2001 and another three months in 2002, my field research
focused on the Tangale and some neighbouring groups like
the Dadiya.
Muslim brothers and fight against their Tangale
kinsmen.
The End of the Secular State
When Nigeria returned to democracy in 1999 after
fifteen years of military rule, the parliaments of
twelve northern states enacted new laws meant to
Islamise state and society (see Map 1). People in
Europe learnt about it when a 35-year-old Nigerian
woman was sentenced to stoning for extramarital
sex. Western media, when discussing the conse-
quences of Sharia, focused on its human rights
aspects. Yet the violations of human rights are not
the most worrying problem. None of the wom-
en sentenced for fornication have been executed,
because state authorities are reluctant to apply
strictly the divine law. International protests may
have helped to avert the executions, but the main
reason why the Sharia campaign has “run out of
steam” (Kukah 2003: 27) seems to be the disillu-
sionment among Muslims themselves. While most
of them do not object to Sharia as such, they are
critical of the way it has been implemented by
Muslim politicians {Human Rights Watch 2004: 4,
90 f.). A cow thief and a few other petty criminals
had their right hand amputated, but the governors
who are as corrupt as ever have not been brought
to book.
The most severe consequence of the Sharia
campaign seems to be that it has led to a confronta-
tion between the religious communities. When the
new legislation was introduced, the president of
the Christian Association of Nigeria expressed his
shock about this “irresponsible madness” {Tell [La-
gosi, 6 March 2000: 20), and Prof. Wole Soyin-
ka, the Nigerian Nobel Laureate, assumed that it
would be a “prelude to civil war” {Freedom House
2002: 9, 56). In the meantime tempers have cooled,
but the relationship between the religious commu-
nities has been fraught with anxiety and mistrust.
The return to the sacred laws of God is not just
an intra-Islamic affair. Many Sharia activists were
not so much concerned with submitting to the
strict rules of their religion; rather, they used the
campaign to achieve political and “cultural hege-
mony” (Danfulani, Ludwig, and Ostien 2002: 89;
Bach 2003: 121). By “increas[ingl the symbolic
presence of Islam in the State” (Alii 2005: 66),
they occupied public space and marginalised their
Christian rivals. Under Sharia, state authorities
subsidise the building of mosques and pay the
salaries of imams, while the religious activities
of “infidels” are restricted. This unequal treatment
Anthropos 101.2006
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
39
^aP 1: 12 states that have intro-
duced Sharia.
18 most obvious in respect to traditional religions.
The Sharia Penal Code of Zamfara State, which
was adopted by most other Sharia states, makes
1[ a criminal offence to worship other gods than
Allah: “Whoever ... takes part in the worship or
mvocation of any juju ... shall be punished with
heath" (Zamfara State of Nigeria 2000: § 406). The
term “juju,” which is widely used in Nigeria, refers
to various forms of traditional magic and religion.
the Sharia Penal Code it is defined in such
a broad sense that it covers all sorts of African
lehgious practices: “‘Juju’ includes the worship
0r invocation of any object or being other than
Allah" (Zamfara State of Nigeria 2000: § 405).
Christians who profess a monotheistic faith similar
to Islam are not affected by this prohibition. They
tfsy continue practising their religion, though only
Ur>der certain constraints. In Zamfara State, which
Was the first to introduce a Sharia legislation, these
^strictions go quite far. In the capital of Zamfara,
hristians were informed that their churches had
t(a be shifted to an area outside of town, and some
.rch buildings were actually demolished (Chris-
Association of Nigeria 2001: 5-7). Moreover,
hnstian religious education has been banned in
Public schools; instead, all students have to attend
asses in Islamic education (Christian Associa-
2°n °f Nigeria 2001:7-9, 14; Freedom House
, 45 f.). At secondary schools, Christians are
So subjected to a strict separation by gender.
Anthropos 101.2006
Boys and girls are taught separately, and female
students, regardless of their faith, must conform to
the Islamic dress code.
While Christians form just a small minority
in states like Zamfara, Sokoto, or Katsina, they
constitute nearly half of the population in Nige-
ria as a whole. The federal government under
President Obasanjo, a Christian, would not have
accepted the subjection of non-Muslims to Sharia
punishments like flogging, amputation, or stoning.
So Islamic politicians in the North had to grant
some concessions. As soon as Christians become
involved in civil or criminal litigation, they may be
heard before a secular court.2 * * * * * * 9 Muslims, however,
cannot choose whether they want to be judged
according to secular or religious law. In cases of
theft, robbery, or adultery they face the severity
of Sharia. Moreover, they are under the supervi-
sion of Sharia militias who patrol the streets and
act against “un-Islamic behavior” (Maier 2000:
2 Some Islamic authorities have, however, hinted that the
present arrangement, which exempts infidels from harsh
punishments such as amputation, needs revision: Muslims
will not accept, in the long run, that a Christian thief
receives a more lenient treatment than a Muslim (Maier
2000: 184 f.). The same argument was adduced for the
case of blasphemy which is supposed to be a capital
offence only for Muslims. When a Christian journalist was
accused of “insulting” Prophet Mohammed, the government
of Zamfara demanded that he must be decapitated {Tell,
9 December 2002: 30).
40
Johannes Hamischfeger
190), urging the faithful to attend the communal
prayers and to discharge their religious obligations
correctly.
According to Ahmed Sani, the governor of
Zamfara, Muslims are not entitled to question the
Sharia laws enacted by his government: “These are
divine rules and regulations. Anybody who says he
doesn’t want them is not a Muslim” (Newswatch
[Lagos], 6 March 2000: 15). Those who do not
share Sani’s understanding of Islam might be
tempted to renounce their religious obligations.
However, giving up one’s faith is seen, in Islamic
orthodoxy, as a capital offence. The government
of Zamfara contemplated incorporating the death
penalty for apostasy in its penal code. Yet the
political realities of Nigeria did not allow it, so
Governor Sani called upon the believers to take the
law into their own hands and execute the culprits:
“If you change your religion from Islam, the penal-
ty is death. We know it. And we didn’t put it in our
penal code because it is against the constitutional
provision. It is the law of Allah which now is
a culture for the entire society. So if a Muslim
changes his faith or religion, it is the duty of the
society or family to administer that part of the
justice to him” {Newswatch, 6 March 2000: 17). In
a few instances, converts to Christianity have been
killed {Freedom House 2002; 36, 39; Committee
2000: 44). But the number of Muslims in the North
who renounce their faith is quite small. In order
to avoid any risks, they normally leave their com-
munity and move into Christian areas, sometimes
taking on new names and identities. The Catholic
and the Anglican Churches also operate camps
outside the Sharia states where converts can find
refuge {Freedom House 2002: 40).
When talking to members of the Arewa Con-
sultative Forum, the most important association of
northern politicians, I was told that the introduc-
tion of Sharia helps to “homogenise” the popula-
tion. In a country with more than 500 ethnic groups
there are hardly any elements of a common culture
binding people together. In order to bring peace
and harmony to this strife-torn land, Islamic intel-
lectuals and politicians are counting on the uniting
power of religion.3 Only radical submission to God
can give to the citizens of Nigeria a common
identity which “eliminates tribalism and all oth-
er primitive chauvinistic ideologies” (Ado-Kurawa
3 Islam is meant to overcome all man-made boundaries: “all
Muslims, irrespective of race, language, or nationality, must
constitute a single brotherhood, one Umma. ... the Umma,
from one end of the world to the other, is but one single
nation, its diverse peoples sharing but one faith, one law,
one culture and one destiny” (Sulaiman 1986: 11).
2000:271). However, the vision of a religious
community which overrides all other differences is
not the solution to Nigeria’s manifold conflicts but
rather one of its causes. The policy of homogeni-
sation was quite successful in the rural areas of
northern Nigeria where it eliminated many rem-
nants of the pre-Islamic culture. By banning music,
dancing, and the brewing of traditional beer, the
governments of Katsina and Zamfara criminalised
important elements of “pagan” rituals. Thus they
enforced a social transformation which appeared,
to Western observers, like a “De-Africanisation
of Northern Nigeria” (Miles 2003: 65): “La cul-
ture domestique ‘traditionelle’ que j’ai connue il
y a trente ans n’existe plus” (Last 2000: 148).
Yet in urban areas, where many Christians from
the South have settled, the state-enforced Islami-
sation has met with fierce resistance. Clashes in
Kaduna and Kano over the imposition of Sharia
left thousands of people dead. The situation is
equally tense in the Middle Belt of Nigeria, a vast
stretch of land between the Muslim North and
the Christian South. Ethnic groups which claim
to be “indigenous” to the Middle Belt are largely
Christian and traditionalist, but they are confronted
with Muslim “settlers” from the north, most of
them Hausa and Fulani, who are demanding the
introduction of Sharia.4 Among the “indigenes,”
the call for Sharia provokes fear and resentment, as
it has revived memories of the nineteenth-century
jihad. The jihadists, while spreading their faith,
established the ethnic hegemony of the Fulani and
their main allies, the Hausa. Before taking a closer
look at the ethno-religious conflicts in the Middle
Belt, we have to turn first of all to precolonial
history.
Religious and Ethnic Hegemony
In the north of what is today Nigeria, the trans-
Sahara trade has spread Arabic influence for more
than a thousand years. As far back as the middle
of the eleventh century, the King of Kanem-Bomu
converted to Islam, and later the rulers of the
neighbouring Hausa kingdoms followed his ex- 4
4 The distinction between “settlers” and “indigenes” has been
contested. Migrants from the north do not accept that
“native” or “indigenous” peoples have any ancestral rights
to the land. Nigeria’s constitution, however, accepts the
distinction and grants certain prerogatives to citizens who
“belong to” a state, i.e., “either of whose parents or any
of whose grandparents was a member of a community
indigenous of that state” (sect. 318[1]; see Bach 1997: 337-
342).
Anthropos 101.2006
^tamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
41
ample. Of course, for centuries Islam remained a
court religion which had little influence on the
lyes of the peasant population. Only when Us-
¡Jan dan Fodio, a Fulani preacher, called for a
noly War against the unbelievers did Islam spread
acr°ss vast parts of northern Nigeria. His jihad
ls still regarded by today’s Sharia campaigners
as a model of religious renewal. But the fight
a§ainst unbelievers was coupled with a claim to
^thnic domination. The Fulani, to whom Usman
an Fodio belonged, had pushed forward mainly as
Pastoralist nomads into the territory of the Hausa.
. minority of them took up residence in the cap-
!tals °f the Hausa kings where, thanks to their Is-
11110 education, they were able to rise to important
Petitions, either as advisors to the kings or as their
j’Ccretaries and tax collectors (Hogben 1967:53;
ewis 1980: 30 f.). Other Fulani scholars, howev-
’ Preferred to stay aloof from the residences of
P^e kings and formed their own rural settlements.
0l^ these religious enclaves, the rebellion against
e godless” rulers started,
k-alling for divine justice, Usman dan Fodio
** against the corruption and tyranny of the
Uem§ class; “Whomsoever they wish to kill or ex-
°r violate his honour or devour his wealth they
So ln pursuit of their lusts” (Isichei 1984: 203;
kin1Ixvhi-lxx). Within five years the Hausa
gs had been toppled, but the feudal order re-
amed. The “royal” families of the Fulani simply
Anthropos 101.2006
put themselves in place of the old aristocracy.
Their hegemony might have eroded quickly, yet
they managed to overcome internal dissent by
directing the aggression towards “unbelievers” in
neighbouring territories. The cavalry of the Fulani
and their Hausa allies did not stop at the borders
of the old kingdoms but pushed on in an easterly
direction towards Bauchi (the “land of the slaves”)
and southwards to the Nupe and Yoruba. During
the course of the nineteenth century, in all these
conquered regions, emirates were founded which
were dependent on the Sultan in Sokoto.
The only possibility of uniting the subjugated
peoples and of keeping the disparate empire to-
gether lay in Islam. In order to gain legitimacy,
the emirs had to establish a theocratic rule which
de-emphasised ethnic loyalties (see Map. 2). By
setting themselves up as custodians of the true
religion, they were especially concerned with im-
posing the outer manifestations of their faith such
as the observation of Ramadan, Friday prayers,
and other rites which spread a uniform culture. So,
wherever they set up a permanent state authority,
they urged the conquered peoples - or at least their
leaders - to embrace Islam. But conversion did not
imply that the new converts were treated as equals.
Being a Muslim meant recognising the religious
and political authority of the emir and accepting
one’s place within the social hierarchy. Thus Islam
established a lasting structure of subjugation which
42
Johannes Hamischfeger
could safeguard the conquest of the “heathen”
communities: “Praying to Allah mean[t] praying
to the God of the powerful” (Nadel 1942: 142).
Among the Nupe, most of those who converted
were willing to collaborate with the Fulani aris-
tocracy. Since their ethnic loyalties shifted, they
were seen by fellow Nupe as part of the new
ruling class: “Of such men the Nupe say not ‘they
become Mohammedans’ but... ‘they become Fu-
lani’” (Nadel 1942: 143).
In most regions, however, Muslim rule only led
to a loose form of dependency. Village commu-
nities or ethnic groups had to pay tribute to the
emir or they were regularly plundered by troops
from the capital. Therefore, Islam remained to a
large extent an urban religion, despite the wars of
conquest. On the periphery of the Sultanate, where
hundreds of ethnic groups lived, the population
tried to evade the rule of the Fulani, and, thereby,
to escape Islam. In these areas the jihad resembled
a raid, as the warriors of God were more con-
cerned with hunting for slaves than with spreading
their religion. In the centre of the Sultanate, about
half of the population consisted of slaves, and the
continual demand for labour ensured that emirates
like Kontagora, which had been established in the
“pagan” areas, were completely financed by the
slave trade.5 The rise in slavery was presumably
the main reason why large sections of the north-
ern region were not Islamised. Even converting
to Islam could not save the people from being
dragged off into bondage. At the margins of the
empire, like in Adamawa, the Fulani sometimes
prevented local people from becoming Muslims;
“Until the end of the 1950s, those locals who tried
to convert to Islam (and those Fulbe who pros-
elytised) were beaten and jailed by the Sultans”
(Gausset 2002: 169). The ruling stratum, which
defined itself by its superior religion, had little
interest in the assimilation of the peoples under
their rule.6 Islam only became an inclusive religion
when, in the late 1950s, democratic elections were
introduced and the Fulani rulers needed the support
of the local population.
5 Lovejoy 1986; 240; King 2002: 24; Crowder 1978: 212.
6 This recalls the exclusiveness of the early Arab jihadists.
As followers of the true God, they were entitled to conquer
other peoples, yet for generations they did not try to spread
their faith: “It was the mission of the community to bring
God’s true ways into all the world; hence the rule of the
Muslim community [not their creed - J. H.] should be
extended over all infidels.” “Islam ... should guide those
in command among men, and these should be the Arabs,
to whom Islam was properly given” (Hodgson 1977:322,
226).
In order to survive the jihad of the nineteenth
century, many small ethnic groups had to with-
draw to the Jos Plateau, the Muri Mountains, and
other remote areas which were inaccessible to the
mounted armies of the Fulani. In these parts of the
Middle Belt, the “minority groups” have preserved
their ethnic identities until today, while further to
the north, in the heartland of the Sultanate, where
the jihadists established some state authority, a
process of assimilation took place. The Warji, Pa’a,
and other small groups, which embraced Islam,
gradually turned into Hausa. Even the ruling class
of the Fulani adopted the language and, to a large
extent, the culture of the Hausa majority, so that
today one usually speaks of the “Hausa-Fulani.”
Nevertheless, the aristocratic families of the Fulani
were still able to keep their political privileges. To
this day, it is an undisputed rule that only a direct
descendant of Usman dan Fodio can ascend to the
throne of Sokoto. And even in a remote city like
Ilorin, which is mainly populated by Yoruba, the
emir always comes from the Fulani aristocracy.
This astonishing continuity could only be pre-
served because the British colonial administration
promoted the hegemony of the Fulani and thereby
the spread of Islam.
Hausa-Fulani Domination
When British troops occupied the north of Nigeria
in 1902/03, they met with little resistance. Even
in Sokoto, the centre of the Fulani empire, the
population seemed little prepared to defend the
Islamic authorities. Though the Sultan and most of
the emirs were quickly driven out, the British did
not break the power of the ruling families. Since
the colonial invaders did not have enough staff to
administer the conquered territories, they found it
advisable to make use of the administration which
the Fulani had set up in their emirates. The Islamic
law practised here could be integrated easily into
the colonial judicial system, as it already existed in
a written form. So Sharia remained in force in the
emirates until the end of the colonial period. The
new rulers only removed those parts of the Islamic
law which they considered to be “repugnant to
natural justice,” namely mutilation and slavery
(Keay and Richardson 1966: 22).
Under the system of “Indirect Rule,” the “native
authorities” continued to be responsible for the
direct control of the population. So the emirs pos-
sessed, as before, the right to distribute land and to
collect taxes. In addition, they settled religious and
judicial disputes so that British officials exercised
Anthropos 101.2006
43
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
their sovereignty in an oblique way. This sepa-
ration of power was not only convenient for the
foreign conquerors, it also offered advantages to
the Fulani. Aided by the colonial army, they were
able now to expand the area over which they ruled
hy pacifying the “warrior tribes” of the highlands.
Ethnic groups which had managed to defend their
independence for the whole of the ninteenth centu-
ry now became subjugated to an Islamic authority
with the assistance of the British.7 Even those re-
gions of the Middle Belt which were not formally
incorporated into the emirates were often given
administrators recruited from among the Fulani.
Since many of the minority groups did not have
chiefs or other central authorities, it was conve-
rtit to instal “friendly” Fulani as district and vil-
lage heads. From the perspective of the Europeans,
the Fulani were destined to be rulers, and in this
respect they seemed to be an African mirror-image
°f the British: “We feel that the Fulani and English
races have much in common. Both have had a long
experience and special aptitude for administering
their own and other people’s affairs” (Lieutenant
Colonel Beddington, 1934, quoted in Omolewa
1989:11).
In all parts of the emirates, the citizens were
subject to Islamic courts of justice, even where
the majority of the population was “heathen.” This
rant, according to the laws of Sharia, that non-
Muslims were discriminated against. A govern-
ment commission ascertained in 1958 that many
ulani judges, when dealing with criminal cases,
°uly admitted the testimony of male Muslim wit-
nesses. And in the adjudication of compensation,
y-hristians and traditionalists were granted only
1£hf or one fifteenth of the amount a Muslim could
expect (Willink Commission n.d.: 126; Anderson
4: 200). Thus the colonial administration in-
stitutionalised the inferior status of non-Muslims.
Ven in those regions of the Middle Belt which
n^ere not controlled by the emirs, it was obvious
at British officials treated their Fulani adminis-
ators with greater respect than they did the old
established dignitaries. So traditional “big men”
cepied the aristocratic habits of the Fulani, or they
uopted their way of dress and sometimes their
^gion. In this way, Islam profited from colonial
,e’ not only in Nigeria, but in West Africa as a
°le: “in half a century of European colonization
am progressed more widely and more profound-
ly than in ten centuries of pre-colonial history”
'Lewis 1980: 82).
7 n!Iard 1972:4-12; Mustapha 2000:92; Perham 1962:
1-14-139; Schacht 1957: 126 f.
Anth
When occupying the Fulani empire, Lord Lu-
gard had assured the population that the new ad-
ministration would not interfere in religious mat-
ters (Hamza 2002: 121, 123). To consolidate their
rule, the British had to protect the interests of
their new allies, the Fulani rulers, who based their
claim to legitimacy on their religious authority.
As defendores fidei, the emirs could not tolerate
conversion among their Muslim subjects. So at the
behest of the colonial administration, almost all
Islamic regions of northern Nigeria were closed
to Christian missionaries. Church representatives
protested vehemently against these restrictions to
their work, but the Colonial Office in London was
not willing to make any concessions: “Whatev-
er threatened the Muhammedan religion threat-
ened the authority of the emirs and so imperilled
the organisation of ‘indirect rule’” (Statement of
the Colonial Office, 1917, quoted in Crampton
1979:60). Only from 1931 onwards were Chris-
tians allowed to preach in “quiet places.” And
they could build churches, provided they did not
disturb the Muslim population. Yet the majority of
Muslims resented having churches in their neigh-
bourhood, so in many northern cities the practice
has remained to this day that churches can only
be built at the margins of urban areas. In recent
years there has even been a trend to return to the
strict prohibitions of the early colonial period. The
authorities in Kano, the metropolis of the North,
have refused to allocate plots for new churches
since the early 1980s. Christian residents ignored
these orders and erected new buildings in their
quarters, but in 1999 they received official letters
that 54 churches should be demolished (Ibrahim
2002: 18).
For decades, the activities of the missions con-
centrated on the South which is largely Christian
today. The religion of the colonizers was also
attractive to the “pagan” minorities in the North.
By embracing Christianity, they assumed a “mod-
ern” identity which made it easier to resist the
advancing Hausa-Fulani culture. In administrative
terms, however, the whole Middle Belt was part of
the Northern Region, which was dominated by the
Hausa-Fulani and their political party, the North-
ern People’s Congress. In the 1950s, the NPC con-
trolled the regional government, and when Nigeria
assumed full independence in 1960, it also gained
control over the federal government in Lagos.
Formed as a regional party, it had appealed to
the population of the North to join together under
the motto “One North: One People Irrespective of
Religion, Rank or Tribe” (Sklar 1983: xiii). But
the ethnic groups of the Northern Region did not
,roPos 101.2006
44
Johannes Hamischfeger
feel like “one people,” and the NPC was far from
giving equal representation to all social and ethnic
groups. The party apparatus was firmly in the
hands of the Fulani aristocracy.8 Representatives
of the Christian minorities founded their own par-
ty, the United Middle Belt Congress, which called
for an autonomous Middle Belt State, but the colo-
nial authorities forced them to remain under the
NPC-Government. When the British administra-
tion left, the premier of the Northern Region, a Fu-
lani, assumed far-reaching powers: he decided on
the allocation of the budget and on access to public
office, he controlled the police and later also the
regional radio and television stations. Thus ethnic
minorities learned that it was costly not to support
the regional government. Opposition politicians
who defected to the NPC were given lucrative
posts and public commissions. Anyone who was
not prepared to side with the ruling party faced
financial ruin or ended up in prison. Three years
after independence the opposition was eliminated
and northern Nigeria had virtually changed into a
one-party state (Dudley 1968: 190). When the Tiv,
the biggest non-Muslim group in the north, rose
up against the regional government, their rebellion
was crushed by the army.
Violence alone could not unite the north of
Nigeria. So the Prime Minister, Ahmadu Bello,
propagated a common culture for its heterogeneous
peoples. Officials in the public administration were
expected to speak Hausa and were urged to convert
to Islam: “Advancement or even retention within
the civil service was seen as a matter of em-
bracing orthodoxy” (D. J. Muff et, a British civil
servant, quoted in Kukah and Falola 1996: 108).
As a uniting force intended to overcome ethnic
differences, the common religion had to be visible
everywhere. So the regional government gave or-
ders that new public buildings had to be designed
in an Islamic, i.e., Arabic style (Zabadi 1987: 117).
In September 1963, the premier of the Northern
Region embarked on a conversion campaign, using
taxpayers’ money and donations from Arab coun-
tries to organise mass meetings where the converts
received small presents from the hand of the pre-
mier (Gilliland 1986: 150-171). In 1964, Ahmadu
Bello boasted to the Islamic World League that he
had converted 60,000 infidels in only five months
(Paden 1986: 540). As a direct descendant of Us-
8 In the parliament of the Northern Region, elected in 1961,
40 % of its members came directly from the royal family, a
further 28 % belonged to other parts of the nobility, and
only 2% were descendants of former slaves (Whitaker
1970: 322).
man dan Fodio, he frequently used the imagery of
the jihad and stressed the continuity between the
NPC government and the old caliphate (Reynolds
1997; 56-60). He regarded his political office as a
position from which to further the religious mis-
sion which his famous ancestor had launched more
than a hundred years ago: “the work of salvation
for all the people which he so nobly undertook has
now been handed to me. I dedicate myself totally
to its completion” (Crampton 1979: 89). However,
by appealing to the jihad of the nineteenth century,
he only reawakened the fear of further Fulani dom-
ination. His Islamisation campaign did not create
a closer bond between the Muslim elite and the
ethnic minorities but rather deepened the distrust
between them. When, at the beginning of 1966, the
news spread that Ahmadu Bello had been killed in
a military putsch, his death was celebrated all over
the minority areas.
Control over Land
The intervention of the army was only the first
in a series of coups and countercoups. Various
military and civilian regimes succeeded each other,
yet the Muslim elite in the North continued to
dominate the country. It was only in 1999, with
the beginning of the Fourth Republic, that power
shifted to the South. Immediately after the election
of a Christian president, Muslim politicians in
the North started the Sharia campaign, which
can be explained at least partially as a reaction
to their loss of power. Having lost control over
the federal government, they used religion to
entrench their dominance in their home base.
From the perspective of the northern minorities,
the present Islamisation campaign appears more
threatening than the one in the 1960s, because in
the meantime millions of Hausa and Fulani have
moved southwards, driven by land shortages and
worsening climatic conditions. Each major drought
leads to a “mass exodus” (James n.d.:33f.), not
only from the north of Nigeria but also from
neighbouring states in the Sahel zone. Many of the
migrants have settled in Lagos, Ibadan, and other
big cities of southern Nigeria; yet for uprooted
peasants, the Middle Belt is often more attractive.
It still offers patches of unused land because vast
areas were depopulated during the slave hunts of
the nineteenth century.
For the indigenous groups of the Middle Belt,
it is a frightening prospect to become a minor-
ity in “their” states or local government areas.
Losing their numerical and political dominance
Anthropos 101.2006
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
45
would mean losing control over the land, the basis
°f their existence. As the settlers from the North
have grown in numbers, they no longer hide their
mtention to take over the local administration.
This is one of the reasons why they fought so
Vlgorously to have Sharia introduced in the Mid-
dle Belt states. Since Muslims are called upon to
change the political order according to the will
°f God, they feel entitled to oust the indigenous
Christians from their positions of power. Gaining
control over land becomes part of a holy mission
which requires that wherever they settle they must
strive for supremacy over the infidels. Since the
settlers from the North have no intention of as-
Slmilating to the culture of the Berom, Tangale,
°r Tarok, they generally do not take the trouble
t° learn local languages. They scarcely mix with
the indigenous population, but prefer to establish
their own settlements apart from the existing vil-
^ages.9 Like colonists they regard their new home
as an “institutional vacuum” in which they set up
a copy of their own culture, without paying heed
to the indigenous way of life (Kopytoff 1987: 26).
I would now like to examine more closely the
WaY that ethnic and religious conflicts overlap,
taking as an example a rural area in Gombe
ytate. Officially this state with its majority of
^ausa, Fulani, and Bole people is part of the
core north.” But its southern part is peopled
a dozen largely Christian and traditionalist
ethnic groups, the biggest of them being the
tangale. When the British conquered the area,
Jtey placed it under the administration of the
Crnir of Gombe, but in 1907 they revised this
ccision. The Tangale-Waja District received its
®wn administration, and so it was opened up
.°. the work of Christian missions. After some
’Hilial reluctance, the Tangale and their neighbours
converted m targe numbers, making use of the new
t^ssionary institutions, particularly the schools
ffarnischfeger 2006). Today they are, on average,
cher educated than the Hausa and Fulani, so that
hiany 0f them found jobs as civil servants, not
Z1 ^ *.n their own local administration, but also in
e ministries of Gombe State and in colleges and
^diversities throughout northeast Nigeria. Most
, the top positions in these institutions have
(jeen taken, however, by Muslims who ultimately
^ecide on promotions. When a vacancy has to
ruled, they may approach a Christian, telling
111 that they would like to give him the post, if
9 The
indigenous ethnic groups also prefer to keep apart from
each u ------------°—*---------1----------- ----------
1 otner. For a detailed case study on migration and
ett ernent patterns in southern Gombe, see Brunk 1994.
AnthroPos 101.2006
only he could contemplate conversion (Committee
2000: 34). Becoming a Muslim is quite easy. It
does not require theological training, and there is
no need for the candidate to demonstrate a “change
of heart,” as was demanded by many European
missionaries. The convert just joins other Muslims
in public prayers, and he professes his new creed:
There is no god but God, and Mohammed is his
prophet (Peel 2000: 203-205).
Civil servants who have converted to Islam may
bring their new faith back to the village, trying to
win over their family members. Yet the main focus
of the Islamic communities among the Tangale and
neighbouring peoples are the courts of the “tradi-
tional rulers.” The term “traditional,” however, is
misleading. When the British conquered the area,
there were no rulers or any other central author-
ities that might have cooperated with them. So
the British officer in charge chose a former slave
called Lamai and made him chief of Kaltungo (one
of the two Tangale districts). Lamai had been sold
into slavery by his relatives to a faraway place.
When he returned, after years of captivity, he
had become a Muslim and he spoke some Hausa,
the lingua franca of the North, which enabled
him to assist the colonial invaders in establish-
ing their authority over Tangale land. The present
chief, who calls himself His Royal Highness Alhaji
Saleh Mohammed, is a direct descendant of Lamai,
though he no longer speaks the local language.
As a traditional ruler he is supposed to protect
the cultural heritage of his people, but he has
declined to attend the “pagan” festivals. Instead, he
emphasises his Muslim identity, living in a small
palace which recalls the flamboyant residences of
the Fulani aristocracy. He refers to himself as
emir, indicating that he sees himself, above all,
as the protector of his Muslim “subjects.” Chris-
tians and traditionalists accused him of favouring
the Hausa and Fulani by supplying them with
land which belonged to the Tangale. According
to the old colonial land law for Northern Nigeria
(which was hardly modified with the beginning of
independence), agricultural land is not owned by
individuals but by local communities, represented
by chiefs, village heads, and emirs who should
act as trustees for their people (Udo 1990: 31-34).
But the chief of Kaltungo gave away large tracts
of uncultivated land to Muslim settlers - and in
return received gifts from them.
The Hausa and Fulani established their own
villages, and the indigenous population were not
much concerned about them, since there was land
in abundance. In precolonial times, people had
settled only on the slopes of the Muri Moun-
46
Johannes Hamischfeger
tains and on a number of inselbergs, where they
were reasonably well protected from Fulani slave
raiders. The surrounding countryside was almost
entirely unpopulated and comprised hundreds of
square kilometres of savannah in which no one
dared to set up a village. Until a few decades
ago, there was nothing in this wilderness but a
few boundaries drawn at random by the colonial
administration. But since then the rapid growth
of the population has meant that settlements have
spread appreciably. Since the indigenous Tangale,
Tula, and Dadiya have started to dispute over land
rights, they resent that the chief of Kaltungo has
invited still more “strangers” to come and take up
land. In 1998, villagers from Shongom, desperate
to defend “their ancestral land,” stormed the palace
of the chief and attacked him physically. But such
outbursts of violence have no lasting impact; in-
stead they demonstrate that the local population
has no reliable means to control their leaders. The
chief, backed by the government in Gombe, can
largely ignore the wishes of his people. When, in
2001, two dozen posts for village heads were to
be filled, he chose in 19 cases Muslim candidates,
despite stiff opposition.
In cases of land disputes, the Tangele are
reluctant to appeal to law courts since most of the
judges are Hausa and Fulani (Committee 2000: 16).
Moreover, they cannot expect a fair hearing from
the democratically elected state government. As
long as the army ruled, the minorities of Gombe,
Bauchi, and Bomo State felt better protected.
Military governors could be Christians from the
South or Muslims from the North; in either case,
they were quite independent of popular pressure.
Since the introduction of democracy, however,
the government has been firmly in Muslim hands
(even if for reasons of representativeness the vice
governor of Gombe is a Christian). By passing a
Sharia bill, the state authorities made it clear that
they feel obliged to further the interests of Islam.
Non-Muslims dealing with the authorities are thus
cast in the role of outsiders. It is demoralising for
them to perceive that they are losing influence
over the conduct of public affairs. In Tangale
land, Christians and traditionalists are aware that
demographics are against them. In the early 1960s,
a European observer counted some dozen Muslims
among the inhabitants of Kaltungo; today there are
several thousand (unpublished field diary, Werner
Fricke, University of Heidelberg). Though still a
minority, they are eager to show that Islam has
been firmly rooted in the land. As in other areas of
the Middle Belt, they have erected an impressive
mosque in the middle of town, and they use public
squares and buildings to perform their prayers.
Christians have demanded that Muslims pray in
their mosques, not in the central market, but to no
avail.
Deepening Religious Divisions
The recent Sharia campaign has aggravated the
conflict. When the governor of Gombe formed
a committee to prepare for the introduction of
Islamic law, the Hausa and Fulani in Kaltungo
indicated their support by painting pro-Sharia slo-
gans in large letters on the walls of their houses.
For the indigenous Christians, this was a major
provocation. In their eyes, the migrants from the
North do not only claim land, they also want
to dictate the conditions under which their “host
community” has to live. If Sharia were to be imple-
mented and strictly enforced, as in Zamfara State,
the Tangale, Tula, and Dadiya would not even
be allowed to celebrate their traditional festivals.
In a report submitted to the governor of Gombe,
representatives of the Christian minorities pointed
out that they see the Sharia campaign as a direct
attack on their ethnic and cultural integrity; “The
indigenous groups in Gombe state will not want to
lose their ethnic identity due to the Islamization of
the state.” Sharia is “to entrench the superiority of
the Hausa and Fulani ethnic groups” (Committee
2000: 17, 47).
As an Islamic reform movement, the Sharia
campaign sought to strengthen the religious com-
mitment of Muslims by forcing them to show
obedience to the dictates of Allah. According to
religious authorities, Sharia encompasses the to-
tality of God’s commandments: ritual obligations,
purity taboos, legal norms, and moral prescrip-
tions. When followed properly, it will completely
transform a person’s way of life: “[Sharia] is not
just about crime and punishment. This constitutes
only about 10 percent of the sharia. Our way of
life, that is, from the day you were bom to the
day you enter your grave is governed by sharia.
How you eat, walk, talk ... everything” (Emir of
Gwandu, in The News [Lagos], 24 April 2000: 18).
By forcing its members to renounce all un-Islamic
behaviour, the community of the faithful sets itself
ritually apart from the infidels. The boundary be-
tween Muslims and non-Muslims is made visible
in all spheres of social life. This has had a pro-
found effect on those Tangale who had converted
recently. Many of them had turned to Islam for
reasons of convenience: to further their career or
to find favour with the authorities. With the Sharia
Anthropos 101.2006
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
47
campaign they came under pressure to prove that
they take their new faith seriously. By observing
the daily prayers, the proper dress code, and the di-
etary taboos, they had to demonstrate their loyalty
to the community of the faithful. Their religious
commitment was tested even further when the
controversy over Sharia led to a series of clashes
that left dozens of people dead. In Kaltungo and
neighbouring towns, Muslim Tangale and Dadiya
fought side by side with the Hausa and Fulani
settlers against their Christian and traditionalist
kin.
The same pattern emerged in other parts of the
Middle Belt, wherever the call for Sharia triggered
violent clashes. Recent converts from Christianity
Were often at the forefront of Muslim militan-
cy.10 By burning down churches and looting the
shops of Christians, they tried to demonstrate that
their new faith was more important to them than
°ld “tribal” loyalties. Thus the Sharia controversy
split local communities along religious - not eth-
nic - lines, which was advantageous to the Hausa
and Fulani migrants. The gulf between believers
and nonbelievers partitions the indigenous popu-
lation. It divides the Muslim Tangale from their
Christian neighbours and relatives, meaning that
the settlers from the North encounter a society that
ls weakened by internal antagonisms.
The religious polarisation, which prompted
most converts to side with the Hausa and Fulani
Settlers, accelerated a process of assimilation that
had been going on for a long time: “Pagan groups
that converted to Islam have mostly ethnically
converted to Hausa-Fulani” (Ibrahim 1999: 104;
Salarnone 1975). Among the Tangale, only Chris-
tians and traditionalists see themselves as Tan-
nic proper, while clans and families which are
Predominantly Islamic are sometimes referred to
as “Hausa.” In another part of the Middle Belt,
arUong the Ron of the Jos Plateau, Christians told
ttte that converts to Islam prefer speaking to them
ln Hausa. Some converts even underwent scari-
fication to have the “tribal marks of the Hausa”
carved into their face. Yet in most cases ethnic
Assimilation is a more gradual process. After hav-
ln§ assumed an Islamic name, a Tangale will copy
Ihe behaviour of Hausa Muslims, especially when
ln a more anonymous urban environment. But at
°me he may emphasise his Tangale identity in
°rder to safeguard his claims to inheritance and
T* Positions of authority within his clan or family.
Uch attempts to strategise with ethnic identities
Personal comrn- Prof- Mu’azzam, Bayero University Kano,
r- Isaac Laudarji, ECWA Kano, Yohana Madaki, Kaduna.
Anth
were, however, undercut by the Sharia campaign.
Converts had to declare unequivocally which side
they supported. Those who joined the Sharia camp
and fought shoulder to shoulder with the Mus-
lim settlers destroyed the remnants of trust that
had existed between them and their fellow Tan-
gale. The fear of mutual attacks has precipitated
a process of segregation. Hausa, Fulani, Kanuri,
and other migrants from the Muslim North have
been concentrating in an area of Kaltungo called
Nassarawa. Here they were joined by a number
of indigenous Muslims who preferred to move
away from their Christian and traditional kin. The
boundaries separating the religious communities
are even more pronounced in some big cities like
Jos or Kaduna, where the segregation has been
enforced by ethno-religious cleansing. Districts in
which the Christians have driven out the Muslim
inhabitants have been given new names such as
Jesus Zone, New Jerusalem, or Promised Land.
Similarly, the Muslims have renamed their quar-
ters Jihad Zone, Saudi Arabia, or Seat of [bin]
Ladin (Tell, 15 October 2001: 36).
Resistance or Conversion
Christians often complain that members of their
churches are lured into Islam by the promise of
material benefits. Impoverished farmers find it
tempting to convert as they are given presents by
their new religious community; civil servants may
profit from Muslim patronage, and prospective
traders hope to establish business contacts by be-
friending local Hausa and Fulani. For the Tangale
and members of other small ethnic groups it is
difficult to enter into trade, as the commercial net-
works are controlled by their Hausa rivals.11 But
a wealthy Hausa may give a Tangale client a loan
to start a business, thus establishing a permanent
link which is advantageous for both sides. The
Tangale retailer may sell goods provided by his
Hausa patron, and their business relationship is
cemented by bonds of trust created by Islam.
Personal contacts that lead to conversion are
often initiated by the Muslim side. Christians
claim that their adversaries, when proselytising, act
11 Some branches, like dealing with motor spare parts or
electronics, are monopolized by Igbo traders from the
South. But the Igbo, though they share the Christian
faith of the indigenous people, are also seen as “clanish.”
They prefer to attend their own church services, mostly
with the Catholic Church, while Christian Tangale are
usually members of the Evangelical Church of West Africa
(ECWA).
lroPos 101.2006
48
Johannes Hamischfeger
strategically by analysing the power relationships
among the indigenous people.12 Before approach-
ing potential converts, they may determine who
might be instrumental in influencing the local com-
munity. Or they single out persons who have been
estranged from the mainstream of their society
because they have lost out in some faction fight.
Thus, the Muslim settlers would exploit and exac-
erbate local conflicts. Yet the success of Islam is
due to many factors, among others its approval of
polygamy. Despite decades of Christian preaching,
polygamy is still seen as a social ideal, attractive
even to females. Tangale women told me that it
is difficult for them, when they are elderly and
widowed or divorced, to find a new husband: “Our
Christian boys are selfish, they just want to amuse
themselves.” They keep lovers, but are not willing
to accept obligations. And when they marry, they
choose a young bride who can bear them many
children. Muslim men, by contrast, often marry
elderly women, as they have the possibility to keep
them as their second, third, or fourth wife. For
Christian women, it becomes an attractive option
to marry into a Muslim household, which provides
them with a modicum of social security and a
better social status.
While many Christians feel tempted to convert
to Islam, there are hardly any Muslims willing
to turn to Christianity. So Christian Tangale see
their numbers dwindling: “We preach to the young
ones to stand by their faith, but often they don’t
listen” (Juliana Laban, ECWA Women’s League,
Kaltungo). It seems that Christianity has not much
to offer. One of its main attractions, the possibility
to acquire a “modern” education, has lost much
of its value. For decades, Nigerians tried to mod-
ernise their country by copying Western models of
development, but this has led them to a dead end.
Since Nigeria is in a process of massive deindustri-
alisation, there is not much demand for university
graduates or secondary school leavers, and their
standard of education has declined anyway. Those
with a certificate look for the state to provide them
with jobs, but salaries in the inflated public sector
are so poor that the prestige of academic attain-
ments has been seriously eroded.13 On average,
Christians are still better educated than Muslims,
but young people often have the impression that
it does not pay to invest much in education, espe-
12 Such claims, which I have heard in various parts of the
Middle Belt, are, however, difficult to verify.
13 While I was working at the University of Nsukka, from
1993 to 1996, a senior lecturer earned the equivalent of
70 US $ and a teacher about 30 $.
dally not in those parts of the Middle Belt where
Islamic governments control the access to jobs in
the public sector.
Conversion to Islam is easiest for young people
moving to town, where they start a new life in any
event. Joining Muslims in prayer is just a small
step, yet it is fraught with grave psychological
implications, because the converts have to model
themselves in the image of those who have been
seen as enemies since the days of the slave raids.
Despite these emotional obstacles, pragmatism
would suggest that it is better to give up a separate
identity that condemns its bearers, in the long run,
to the status of a disadvantaged minority. Many,
however, hesitate to give up their Tangale identity,
as they know that they will not be received into the
new community without reservations. The Hausa
and to a greater extent the Fulani forget neither
their own origins nor those of others. A few
Tangale are coopted, such as the Chief of Kaltungo
who could marry a daughter of the Emir of Zaria, a
descendant of Usman dan Fodio and a Sharia hard-
liner. But in most cases settlers from the North
do not view the natives as their equals, but treat
them with contempt. They even look down upon
converts who talk and dress like Hausa. Muslim
Tangale may try to overcome such resentment by
striving to outdo others in their performance of
religious duties, but the Hausa would still not
allow a Tangale imam to lead them in prayers.
Christian Tangale, irked by the religious zeal of
some converts, sometimes remind them that all
their endeavors will be futile: “We know the truth.
Why do you try hard? They will never take you
as their brother.” Differences of birth continue to
be of importance among the Hausa and Fulani
themselves. The aristocracy of the emirates has
always been recruited from Fulani families, who
distinguish themselves from other Nigerians on the
basis that they are generally lighter in complexion.
In times of religious mobilisation, when Muslims
present a common front against infidels, ethnic
prejudices are usually relegated to the background,
but they reemerge in day-to-day life.
A new identity as a Muslim is all the more pre-
carious, as converts are under pressure to abstain
from ritual activities that could keep them attached
to their traditional ethnic identity. Among the Tan-
gale, Muslims would not participate in the annual
Tangra and Eku festivals when each clan celebrates
with its ancestors. When I spoke with Muslims
about the traditional religion, they described it as
something utterly primitive, assuming that I, as
a European, would share this view. This hostile
attitude towards the remnants of the old African
Anthropos 101.2006
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
49
traditions predates the present Sharia campaign,
and it can be found among Muslims in other parts
of northern Nigeria as well.14 A good case in point
are the Kupto and Kwami people who are linguis-
tically closely related to the Tangale but converted
to Islam some generations ago.15 It was difficult
gathering information in their villages about the
Pre-Islamic religion, because the old cults had been
abandoned. Some of the sacred groves which had
surrounded the shrines were left untouched, as the
farmers were afraid of cultivating these areas, but
the holy places had turned into a kind of bad
bush. Only some fragments of pottery indicated
that the land had once been used for ritual ac-
tivities. More striking even is the example of the
Jukun who live isolated from each other in some
towns and villages scattered over five Middle Belt
states. Where Islam has taken root, as in Pindiga,
^avo, or Wase Tofa, the old places of worship
have been destroyed. Much of this iconoclasm
0ccurred during the mid-1960s, when Ahmadu
&ello carried out his conversion campaign. Some
°f the plundered sacred objects managed to escape
destruction and were brought to the museum in
J°s, while others were sold by Hausa traders. In
some Jukun settlements, however, Christianity has
Prevailed and here the traditional practices can still
he studied in much detail (see for example a study
°f Kona by Dinslage and Storch [2000]).
Among the Tangale, Christians and adherents of
'■he old religion coexist quite peacefully. Tradition-
dignitaries like the chief priest of Shongom reg-
ularly attend the morning prayers of the Evangel-
1Cal Church of West Africa, while church author-
ltles are eager to keep some of the old traditions
ahve by providing church facilities for Tangale
estivities. This form of mutual respect is, how-
ever, a recent development. The ECWA, which
ls the dominant church in the Tangale-Waj a area,
Was founded by American missionaries who saw
d as their duty to eradicate “paganism.”16 They
^any Muslims would not mind consulting traditional heal-
ers> witch-doctors, and diviners. In this respect, Islam is
Very adaptable to local traditions. The magical services
sold by Islamic malams are, in fact, quite similar to those
° |ered by their traditional rivals (Doi 1984; 243-253). But
^ous authorities do not tolerate community cults which
15 ?^then tlie coherence of clans or ethnic groups.
eir Islamisation has been accompanied by a shift in
nic identity, but they assimilated to the neighbouring
Th^ ')e°l)'e rather lhan t0 the Hausa.
are, however, no reports that missionaries attacked
a.nY brines or religious ceremonies. John Hall, the first mis-
nary among the Tangale, had a keen interest in their reli-
1°n- °we him a most detailed study on “Religion, Myth
n Magic in Tangale,” published posthumously in 1994.
Anthr°Pos 101.2006
only accepted candidates for baptism who had re-
nounced their heathen ways and thrown away their
“jujus.” Today there is no clear-cut boundary be-
tween Christians and adherents of the old Tangale
cults. Many traditionalists would call themselves
Christians, even if they do not bother attending
church. During the Sharia crisis, they sided with
the Christians, as they have a common interest
in defending their claim to Tangale land. From
their point of view, Muslim Tangale are traitors,
since they tend to ally with the “strangers.” When
Tangale leaders discussed strategies to counter the
growing influence of the settlers, Christians and
traditionalists noticed that their Muslim co-ethnics
were leaking confidential information to the Hausa
and Fulani. Since then, they try to exclude Mus-
lims from their deliberations, and this can best be
done by using church meetings to discuss Tangale
affairs.
Christianity has thus assumed an important
function for the Tangale. It helps them to preserve
their ethnic identity and at the same time enables
them to understand themselves as part of a global
religious community. As Christians they can better
draw attention to their plight. When they clash
with Hausa and Fulani “settlers,” journalists in
southern Nigeria will be more sympathetic to their
cause and present it as a conflict between Muslims
and Christians. Furthermore, Christianity may also
help in uniting the minorities. The Tangale, Tula,
and Dadiya never had any common religious or
political institutions,17 but today their leaders can
meet under the umbrella of the Christian Associ-
ation of Nigeria or the ECWA. So far, however,
their attempts to coordinate their resistance against
the “internal colonialism” (Tyoden 1993; 4) of the
Hausa and Fulani have had little success. The rela-
tionship between the indigenous ethnic groups has
been hostile since precolonial times, and present
conflicts over land have deepened their rivalry and
mistrust.
Compared to the Hausa and Fulani, the in-
digenous groups are less united, because they see
the confrontation more in ethnic than in religious
terms. As “sons of the soil” they want to defend
17 Even within their own society the Tangale were not united
by religious or political authorities. British colonial officers
saw the Tangale as a tribe, since they spoke a common
language. Yet historically speaking, they were more a
“conglomeration of different peoples” (Mabudi 1980: 8).
They had been formed out of refugees who had fled from
the slave raids and were forced to live tightly packed inside
a few mountain fortresses. Feuds between them could be as
brutal as the wars against foreigners, involving headhunts
and mutual enslavement (Hamischfeger 2002).
50
Johannes Hamischfeger
their ancestral land against the encroachment of
“foreign tribes.” Consequently, the conflict looks
like an endless series of local skirmishes. Dadiya
farmers, afraid of the growing number of settlers
in their neighbourhood, burnt down a few villages
and chased the inhabitants away. In a Tangale
settlement called Tal, Christians destroyed the on-
ly mosque in order to indicate that they do not
want Muslims living among them. Occasionally
there is also pressure on indigenous Muslims to
reconvert to Christianity. Yet the religious divi-
sions persist, and the rival factions observe each
other with suspicion. When the first Sharia clashes
broke out in Kaduna and tension was rising all
over the Middle Belt, Christian Ron warned those
among their relatives and neighbours who had
converted to Islam; “If something happens here,
we will first go and kill you before dealing with the
Fulani.”
Prospects
In order to avoid a religious polarisation, church
leaders have defended the secular tradition of
Nigeria’s constitution. Protestants as well as Cath-
olics have insisted that state institutions should
remain neutral in all religious affairs: “religion ...
is a private affair between you and your God. If
you want to bring religion in, let it be after office
hours” (Anthony Okogie, Catholic Archbishop of
Lagos, quoted in Kukah 1994; 228). In areas where
Christians form a majority, state authorities have,
by and large, stuck to this principle. Religious
clashes have only occurred in the North, where
Muslim authorities have tried to realise their vision
of a theocratic order, while in the South, where the
Muslim minority has to rely on the tolerance of
Christians, both sides could practise their religion
without much hindrance. But this asymmetrical
order has disadvantaged Christians. Their religious
activities have been restricted in large parts of
Nigeria, while Muslims use their religious liberties
to build many mosques and Qur’anic schools in
Christian areas, funded in part with donations from
Arab countries.
As the fastest growing religion in Africa, Islam
is also spreading along the south coast of Nigeria
(Quinn and Quinn 2003:41). Some Sharia hard-
liners, like Governor Sani, have announced that
they intend to Islamise the whole country: “Zam-
fara is ready to contribute whatever it will cost
to spread Sharia in the Southern part of Nigeria”
(Tell, 6 March 2000: 23). Christian Igbo in the
Southeast feel that the call for Sharia is not meant
to bring peace to their land.18 As they are afraid
of losing control over parts of their territory, they
may be tempted to discriminate against Muslims
or to expel them. There are already indications that
their commitment to tolerating the rival religion is
waning. After the first Sharia clashes in the North
when hundreds of Igbo met their deaths, the gover-
nor of Abia, one of the five Igbo states, threatened
his adversaries with blood vengeance; “If they
kill an Igboman, we will retaliate immediately”
(The News, 27 March 2000: 11). Directly after he
made this statement, armed bands burned down the
central mosque in Aba and killed some 400 Hausa
who had been living as migrants from the North in
various Igbo towns. No Igbo leader wanted to take
responsibility for the actions of “their boys,” but
they advised their opponents in the North to take
the 400 dead as a “warning signal” (The News,
27 March 2000: 16). Their belligerent mood was
expressed by the former Biafra leader, ex-General
Ojukwu, who is still popular among many Igbo;
“we are tired of being threatened. No religion
has a monopoly of violence. If ... you tell me
about the Jihad, know that we had our Crusades
too, and you did not fare better” (Tell, 6 March
2000: 25). Church leaders tried to calm their ad-
herents, nevertheless they warned the Muslim side
not to misinterpret this restraint: “What is holding
Christians back at the moment is what we are
telling them, it is good to live in peace and not in
pieces. But if they [Muslims - J. H.] take that as a
weakness, good luck to them” (Anthony Okogie,
Catholic Archbishop of Lagos, in Newswatch, 6
March 2000: 13).
If Christians cannot enjoy equal rights under
a Muslim governor, they may fight to have their
own people installed in government. Confronted
with the political claims of Islam, Christianity is
turning into a political movement as well. Thus
there is a process of assimilation or, as a Western
observer put it, an “Islamisation of Christianity”
(Prof. Klaus Hock, University of Rostock, at a
Nigeria conference in Bensberg, 2002). In many
parts of Africa, a militant brand of Christianity is
emerging. Especially independent African church-
es, which have freed themselves from the con-
straints of mission Christianity, are “vehemently
anti-Islamic” (Gifford 1998: 317, 347). As the rival
18 Some northern politicians are cynical enough to say openly
that the Sharia controversy shall fall upon rival ethnic
groups in the South like a curse: “Yoruba have enough
Muslim population to adopt their own mode of Sharia
and create their own fratricide” (Hotline [Kaduna], 9 April
2000; 37).
Anthropos 101.200Ö
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
51
religions are locked in a fight for political suprema-
CY, proselytism becomes crucial. Both sides orga-
nise mass meetings in the territory of the other, and
converts are proudly shown around in the media,
as if they were a war booty” (Ibrahim 1999: 100).
With the reemergence of religion at the political
centre stage, the liberal constitution has become
°hsolete. Conflicts between Muslims and Chris-
tians cannot be solved by insisting on individ-
ual human rights, such as freedom of thought,
conscience, and religion. However free an indi-
vidual may be when choosing a new religious
identity, this decision may increase social tensions
because it can undermine the identity of his or
her community (An-Na’im 1999: 20). Conversion
18 interwoven with communal competition, and
this competition has become largely unregulated.
Secular principles, which were enshrined in the
constitution to ensure equal rights for all religious
communities, have been rejected. In order to in-
stitute new rules, the contending parties will have
to renegotiate the terms under which they wish
to continue living together in a common polity.
There are, however, no common legal or moral
Principles which would allow them to find an
°verlapping consensus” (Rawls 1993: 133-172;
Habermas 2005: 26). Muslims and Christians will,
at best, reach local compromises which will be
testable, as they are not rooted in common convic-
P°ns but determined by shifting balances of power.
Where Christians form a minority, as in Zamfara
0r Kano State, they have to accept that Muslims
Set the rules of the game: “Muslim states ... wish
to see their state apparatus organised in conformity
JWth their faith” (Tabiu 2001: 10). To be tolerated
here, Christians cannot insist on their constitution-
^ rights but have to acknowledge the hegemony of
Hamic authorities: “the more non-Muslims react
Jicgatively to the Sharia, the worse the situation is
bkely to get” (Kukah 2003: 27).
References Cited
2CK)0KoV>aWa’ Ibrahim
¿man ah and the Press in Nigeria. Islam versus Western
Christian Civilization. Kano: Kurawa Holdings.
2(teW“risu°-
Commentary (to Abdulkader Tayob: The Demand for
Shari’ah in African Démocratisation Processes). In:
P- Ostien, J. M. Nasir, and F. Kogelmann (eds.), Com-
parative Perspectives on Shari’ah in Nigeria; pp.57-
66. Ibadan; Spectrum Books.
JN.D.
Islamic Law in Africa. London; Her Majesty’s Station-
ary Office.
AmhroPos 101.2006
An-Na’im, Abdullahi Ahmed
1999 Introduction. Competing Claims to Religious Freedom
and Communal Self-Determination in Africa. In: A. A.
An-Na’im (ed.), Proselytization and Communal Self-
Determination in Africa; pp. 1-28. Maryknoll; New
York: Orbis.
Bach, Daniel C.
1997 Indigeneity, Ethnicity, and Federalism. In: L. Diamond,
Larry, A. Kirk-Greene, and O. Oyediran (eds.), Tran-
sition without End. Nigerian Politics and Civil So-
ciety under Babangida; pp. 333-349. Boulder: Lynne
Rienner.
2003 Application et implications de la charia. Fin de partie
au Nigeria. Pouvoirs 104: 117-127.
Ballard, J. A.
1972 “Pagan Administration” and Political Development in
Northern Nigeria. Savanna 1/1: 1-14.
Brunk, Karsten
1994 History of Settlement and Rule, Patterns of Infrastruc-
ture, and Demographic Development in Southeastern
Bauchi State, NE-Nigeria. In: Kulturentwicklung und
Sprachgeschichte im Naturraum Westafrikanische Sa-
vanne; Bd. 4: Studies in Geography, Ethnology, and
Linguistics of the West African Savannah; pp. 11-79.
Frankfurt: SFB 268 an der Johann Wolfgang Goethe-
Universität.
Christian Association of Nigeria (Zamfara State)
2001 Peace and Democracy in Nigeria. (Being a Text Pre-
sented by the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN)
Zamfara State on Behalf of All Christians in the State
to the National Orientation Agency, December 2001.)
[Unpublished]
Committee
2000 Report of the Committee to Consider the Implications of
the Introduction of Sharia Legal Code on Christians and
Other Non-Muslims in Gombe State. Vol. 1: Findings,
Observations, and Recommendations. [Unpublished]
Crampton, E. P. T.
1979 Christianity in Northern Nigeria. London: Geoffrey
Chapman. [1975]
Crowder, Michael
1978 The Story of Nigeria. London: Faber and Faber. [1962]
Danfulani, Umar, Frieder Ludwig, and Philip Ostien
2002 The Sharia Controversy and Christian-Muslim Relations
in Nigeria. Jahrbuch für kontextuelle Theologien 10:
70-95.
Dinslage, Sabine, and Anne Storch
2000 Magic and Gender. A Thesaurus of the Jibe of Kona
(Northeastern Nigeria). Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag.
(Westafrikanische Studien, 21)
Doi, Abdurrahman I.
1984 Islam in Nigeria. Zaria: Gaskiya Corporation.
Dudley, B. J.
1968 Parties and Politics in Northern Nigeria. London: Cass.
Freedom House
2002 The Talibanization of Nigeria. Radical Islam, Extremist
Sharia Law, and Religious Freedom.
<www.freedomhouse.org/religion/pdfdocs/Nigeria%20
Report.pdf> [12.11.2004]
52
Johannes Hamischfeger
Gausset, Quentin
2002 The Spread of Islam in Adamawa (Cameroon). In:
T. Bierschenk and G. Stauth (eds.), Islam in Africa;
pp. 167-185. Münster: LIT. (Yearbook of the Sociology
of Islam, 4)
Gifford, Paul
1998 African Christianity. Its Public Role. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press.
Gilliland, Dean S.
1986 African Religion Meets Islam. Religious Change in
Northern Nigeria. Lanham: University Press of Ameri-
ca.
Habermas, Jürgen
2005 Equal Treatment of Cultures and the Limits of Post-
modern Liberalism. Journal of Political Philosophy
13/1; 1-28.
Hall, John S.
1994 Religion, Myth and Magic in Tangale. Ed. by H. Jung-
raithmayr and J. Adelberger. Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Ver-
lag. (Westafrikanische Studien, 5)
Hamza, Ibrahim
2002 “Amirul Inglis?” Lugard and the Transformation of
the Northern Nigerian Aristocracy, c. 1903-1918. In:
T. Falola (ed.), Nigeria in the Twentieth Century; pp.
119-131. Durham: Carolina Academic Press.
Harnischfeger, Johannes
2002 Tangale History and Culture. In: H. Jungraithmayr
(ed.), Sindi. Tangale Folktales (Kaltungo, Northeastern
Nigeria). Collected, Translated, and Edited in Collab-
oration with A. Galadima, S. Yoblis, and H. Vaykonny;
pp. xxv- xxxviii. Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag.
2006 “Man-Eaters under New Management”. Christliche
Mission bei den Tangale in Nigeria. Zeitschrift für Mis-
sion 2. [Forthcoming]
Hodgson, Marshall G. S.
1977 The Venture of Islam. Conscience and History in a
World Civilization. Vol. 1: The Classical Age of Islam.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Hogben, S. J.
1967 An Introduction to the History of the Islamic States of
Northern Nigeria. Ibadan: Oxford University Press.
Human Rights Watch
2004 “Political Shari’a?” Human Rights and Islamic Law in
Northern Nigeria. Report Vol. 1679(A).
<http://hrw.org/engli sh/docs/2004/09/21/ni geri9364_txt.
htm> [18.5.2005]
Ibrahim, Jibrin
1999 Ethno-Religious Mobilisation and the Sapping of De-
mocracy in Nigeria. In: J. Hyslop (ed.), African Democ-
racy in the Era of Globalisation; pp. 93 — 111. Johannes-
burg: Witwatersrand University Press.
2002 Democracy and Minority Rights in Nigeria. Reli-
gion, Shari’a, and the 1999 Constitution. (Paper for
the Conference on “Globalisation, State Capacity and
Self-Determination in Muslim Contexts,” University
of California, Santa Cruz, 7th to 10th March 2002.)
<www2.ucsc.edu/cgirs/conferences/carnegie/papers/
ibrahim.pdf> [18.1.2005]
Isichei, Elizabeth
1984 A History of Nigeria. London: Longman. [1983]
James, Ibrahim
n.d. External Factors as Catalystic Agents for the Shifting
Demographic Patterns in the Middle Belt. In: I. James
(ed.), The Settler Phenomenon in the Middle Belt and
the Problem of National Integration in Nigeria; pp. 29-
61. Jos: Midland Press.
Keay, E. A., and S. S. Richardson
1966 The Native and Customary Courts of Nigeria. London:
Sweet and Maxwell; Lagos: African Universities Press.
King, Lament Dehaven
2002 State and Ethnicity in Precolonial Northern Nigeria.
In: M. Keita (ed.), Conceptualizing/Re-Conceptualizing
Africa. The Construction of African Historical Identity;
pp. 9-30. Leiden: Brill.
Kopytoff, Igor
1987 The Internal African Frontier. The Making of African
Political Culture. In: I. Kopytoff (ed.), The African
Frontier. The Reproduction of Traditional African Soci-
eties; pp. 3-84. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Kukah, Matthew Hassan
1994 Religion, Politics, and Power in Northern Nigeria. Iba-
dan: Spectrum Books. [1993]
2003 Human Rights in Nigeria. Hopes and Hindrances.
Aachen: Missio.
Kukah, Matthew Hassan, and Toyin Falola
1996 Religious Militancy and Self-Assertion. Islam and Pol-
itics in Nigeria. Aldershot: Avebury.
Last, Murray
1967 The Sokoto Caliphate. London: Longmans.
2000 La Charia dans le Nord-Nigeria. Politique Africaine 79:
141-152.
Lerner, Nathan
1998 Proselytism, Change of Religion, and International
Human Rights.
<www.law.emory.edu/EILR/volumes/win98/lemer.
html> [24.1.2005]
Lewis, I. M.
1980 Introduction. In: I. M. Lewis (ed.), Islam in Tropical
Africa; pp. 1-98. London: Hutchinson.
Lovejoy, Paul E.
1986 Problems of Slave Control in the Sokoto Caliphate. In:
P. E. Lovejoy (ed.), Africans in Bondage. Studies in
Slavery and the Slave Trade; pp. 235-272. Madison:
The University of Wisconsin Press.
Mabudi, Sailer
1980 A History of the Tangale from 1800-1950. Maiduguri.
[B. A. Thesis; Dept, of History; University of Maid-
uguri]
Maier, Karl
2000 This House Has Fallen. Midnight in Nigeria. New York:
Public Affairs.
Miles, William
2003 Shari’a as De-Africanization. Evidence from Hausaland.
Africa Today 50/1: 51-75.
Mustapha, Abdul Raufu
2000 Transformation of Minority Identities in Post-Colonial
Nigeria. In: A. Jega, (ed.), Identity Transformation and
Identity Politics under Structural Adjustment in Nigeria;
pp. 86-108. Uppsala: Nordiska Afrikainstitutet.
Anthropos 101.2006
Islamisation and Ethnie Conversion in Nigeria
53
Nadel, S. F.
1942 A Black Byzantium. The Kingdom of Nupe in Nigeria.
London: Oxford University Press.
Omolewa, Michael
1989 Myth and Reality of the Colonial Legacy in Nigerian
Education, 1951-84. In: T. N. Tamuno and J. A. Atanda
(eds.), Nigeria since Independence. The First Twenty-
Five Years. Vol. 3: Education: pp. 9-34. Ibadan; Heine-
mann Educational Books (Nigeria).
Paden, John N.
1986 Ahmadu Bello. Sardauna of Sokoto. Values and Lead-
ership in Nigeria. Zaria: Hudahuda Publishing.
Peel, J. D. Y.
2000 Religious Encounter and the Making of the Yoruba.
Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Perham, Margery
1962 Native Administration in Nigeria. London: Oxford Uni-
versity Press. [1937]
Quinn, Charlotte A., and Frederick Quinn
2003 Pride, Faith, and Fear. Islam in Sub-Saharan Africa.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Rawls, John
1993 Political Liberalism. New York: Columbia University
Press.
Reynolds, Jonathan T.
1997 The Politics of History. The Legacy of the Sokoto
Caliphate in Nigeria. In: P. E. Lovejoy and P. A. T.
Williams (eds.), Displacement and the Politics of Vi-
olence in Nigeria; pp. 50-65. Leiden: Brill.
Salamone, Frank A,
1975 Becoming Hausa. Ethnic Identity Change and Its Im-
plications for the Study of Ethnic Pluralism and Strati-
fication. Africa 45: 410-424.
Schacht, Joseph
1957 Islam in Northern Nigeria. Studia Islamica 8: 123-146.
Sklar, Richard L.
1983 Nigerian Political Parties. Power in an Emergent African
Nation. New York: NOK. [1963]
Sulaiman, Ibraheem
1986 Islam and Secularism in Nigeria. An Encounter of
Two Civilisations. Impact International (London)/10-
23 Oct.: 8-9 and 24 Oct.-13 Nov.: 11-12.
Tabiu, Muhammed
2001 Sharia, Federalism, and Nigerian Constitution. (Paper
Presented at the Conference on “Restoration of Shariah
in Nigeria. Challenges and Benefits,” Sponsored by the
Nigeria Muslim Forum, and Held in London, on April
14, 2001.)
<www.shariah2001.nmnonline.net/tabiu_paper.htm>
[30.4.2004]
Tyoden, Sonni Gwanle
1993 The Middle Belt in Nigerian Politics. Jos; AHA Pub-
lishing House.
Udo, Reuben K.
1990 Land Use Policy and Land Ownership in Nigeria.
Lagos: Ebieakwa Ventures.
Whitaker, C. S.
1970 The Politics of Tradition. Continuity and Change in
Northern Nigeria 1946-1966. Princeton: Princeton Uni-
versity Press.
Willink Commission
n.d. Nigeria. Report of the Commission Appointed to En-
quire into the Fears of Minorities and the Means of Al-
laying Them. Presented to Parliament by the Secretary
of State for the Colonies by Command of Her Majesty.
July 1958. London: Her Majesty’s Stationary Office.
Researched, Reviewed and Reproduced by League for
Human Rights [no place].
Zabadi, L. S.
1987 The Kaduna Mafia’s Philosophy of the State and Its
Implications for Nigeria. In: B.J. Takaya and S. G.
Tyoden (eds.), The Kaduna Mafia; pp. 113-124. Jos:
Jos University Press.
Zamfara State of Nigeria
2000 Gazette. No. 1. 15th June, 2000. Vol. 3. Law No. 10.
Shariah Penal Code Law. Gusau (Zamfara State): Min-
istry of Justice.
Anth
‘ropos 101.2006
12004
revue de la sedete suisse dethnologie
rivista della società svizzera d'etnologia
Zeitschrift der schweizerischen ethnologischen gesellschaft
tsar tsa
'1
DOSSIER
Foreigners' policy, differentiated citizenship
rights, and naturalisation
Pascale Steiner Transformationen im Feld der Einbürgerung.
Staatsbürgerliche Einbindung in der Schweiz zwischen
1981 und 2000
Brigitte Am und Lena Fassnacht Einbürgerung im Wandel.
Kontroverse Entwicklungen in der Stadt Zürich
; Staatsbürgerinnen werden -
Schweizerinnen machen. Eine Ethnographie der
Einbürgerungspraxis in der Stadt Basel
■
■
ESSAIS EN ANTHROPOLOGIE VISUELLE
Mémoire palestinienne et rhétorique visuelle.
Enjeux politiques et épistémologiques des images ethno-
graphiques
Flurina Semadeni und Virginia Suter «NOUS sommes des aventu-
riers». Ein emisches Mobilitätskonzept in Westafrika
Irène Zingg Menschen im Zentrum der Welt. Ein Bild-Essay
über die Suche nach dem «Land ohne Übel»
Je désire souscrire un
abonnement de 3 numéros
(1 numéro par an)
à 95.- CHF (64.- EUR)
informations à:
Seismo Verlag
Zâhringerstrasse 26
CH-8025 Zurich
www.seismoverlag.ch
www.seg-sse.ch
tsaFUsa
Brigitte studer «Die Ehefrau, die den Ausländer heiratet, soll
sich die Geschichte klar überlegen». Geschlecht, Ehe und
nationale Zugehörigkeit im 20. Jahrhundert in der Schweiz
nise Efionayi-Mader Lorsque le
provisoire se prolonge. Les paradoxes du permis F
la Gehrig The Afghan experience of asylum in Germany.
Towards an anthropology of legal categories
écoud Citoyenneté politique, citoyenneté écono-
mique.
à Berlin
RECHERCHES EN COURS
Christin Achermann und Ueli Hostettler Ausländerinnen und Ausländer
im geschlossenen Strafvollzug. Eine ethnologische
Gefängnisstudie
When Khmer daughters move
Hong Kong: relations commerciales entre
petits entrepreneurs chinois et suisses
Serge Reubi Un ancêtre oublié. L'Institut de préparation aux
professions coloniales de Neuchâtel
Peter van Eeuwijk Altern und Gesundheit in Städten
Indonesiens. Medizinethnologische Forschung zu ((Health
Transition»
COMPTES RENDUS
r "1
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 55-80
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
An Enhancement of Traditional Culture or Its Adulteration?
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
Abstract. - In this article the authors give a detailed account
°f the introduction and historical vicissitudes of the growth
and development of one key political, ritual, and performative
element of Oku society. The princes’ society in Oku (ijgele)
Was introduced from the fraternal chiefdom of Nso’ in the late
1940s. The interplay of ongoing interchiefdom relations and
the exchange of performance of associations involved in the
triangular relationship between neighbouring groups and the
administration are brought to light in the context of this tale
°f ijgele. Since the authors were dealing with relatively recent
historical events they were able to use good oral testimonies
as well as administrative and judicial documents. [Cameroon,
Western Grassfields, Oku Kingdom, palace institutions, princes ’
society (ijgele))
Hermann Gufler is a member of St. Joseph’s Missionary
Society. Since 1967, he has been working in various parts of
the Western Grassfields of Cameroon and is currently working
ln Elak-Oku where he continues to conduct research. He has
Published several articles on the Yamba which were republished
ln “Affliction and Moral Order. Conversations in Yambaland
(Cameroon)” (Canterbury 2003). - See also Ref. Cited.
Njakoi John Bah, a native of Oku, graduated from Yaounde
University with a degree in law (1992) before becoming
research assistant to Nicolas Argenti from 1992-1994. Since
lhen, he has continued to conduct and publish independent
ethnographic research and at the same time he has been engaged
ln a volunteer programme of the Human Rights Clinic and
Education Centre, Bamenda, in Elak-Oku. He has published
various articles on the Oku society in Baessler-Archiv, Tribus,
and Anthropos.
1 Introduction
^Juch has already been written about the palaces
°f the Cameroon Grassfields and their institu-
tions.1 However, as Argenti (pers. comm.) pointed
out, most of these papers cover a great deal of
complicated material with the result that one gets
a tantalising glimpse of all the palace institutions
but not really a full examination of any of them.
A detailed study of the origin, development, and
changes or adaptations of a single palace institu-
tion may also supply an answer to an intriguing
question Mzeka raised in connection with the in-
troduction of new rjgiri masks and the adaptation
of old ones in 1967 in Nso’: “is the creation of
new dances, institutions or jujus an adulteration of
culture or its enhancement?” (1980: 116).
In this paper we focus on the establishment of
the princes’ society, ijgele,2 * in the small kingdom
of Oku, located in the centre of the Cameroon
Grassfields, and describe its turbulent history since
its fledgling beginning in the late 1940s up to
the present. Princes in most, if not all, of the
eastern Grassfields chiefdoms were debarred from
entering rjwerorj, the regulatory society recruited
from commoner lineages, which existed virtual-
ly in all the palaces. The princes, however, had
their own secret society called rjgiri. The exis-
tence of princes’ societies has been reported from
1 Mzeka (1980), Bah (2004); one entire edition of Paideuma
(1985) was devoted to contributions by Cameroon scholars
on Grassfields’ palaces.
2 ijgele derives from rjgiri (variously spelled nggiri, ngiri,
ngirri, Ngirrih, ngiirri), the Lamnso’ word for the princes’
society in Nso’. In the process of adaptation it has changed
from rjgiri to rjgele the term widely used in Oku.
56
Bamum (Tardits 1980; Geary 1983), Nso’ (Mzeka
1980; 106-116; Chilver and Kaberry 1967: 102;
Chem-Langhee et al. 1985), Ntem (Chilver 1961;
Chilver and Kaberry 1967: 111), Mbiame (Koloss
2000), and the Wimbum chiefdoms of Mbot (Chil-
ver and Kaberry 1967: 107) and Wiya (Jeffreys
1962; 92-94). The dynasties of these chiefdoms
invariably claim an origin from Kimi (present-day
Bankim). We are told virtually identical stories of
small princely emigrant groups which claimed to
have brought with them “the things of Rifum” -
“the regulatory society r/weror/, the princes’ so-
ciety r/giri, and the model of seven royal coun-
cillors and seven palace stewards” (Chilver and
Kaberry 1967: 23). Whether the princely emigrants
actually brought “the things of Rifum” along with
them is open to question. In Nso’, for exam-
ple, there is a strong oral tradition which says
that r/giri was introduced from Bamum “with-
in living memory” (Mzeka 1980: 106). There is
a similar story in Bamum. The acquisition of
the ngiirri society is placed during the reign
of King Nshare. An attendant of Nshare named
nji Moghe went to Bankim (i.e., Rifum), in or-
der to acquire the instruments of ngiirri (Tardits
1980: 112; Geary 1983:41). It seems that in the
course of time the princes’ society, in Bamum
at least, underwent a change as paraphernalia of
secret societies of neighbours were appropriated
and integrated to become part of ngiirri (Geary
1983:41).
Whatever the ultimate origin, r/giri is, in fact,
not originally Tikar. According to Njoya (1952:
133 f.) it was acquired by Kimi from Ngute
(Wute [Vute]) and according to Price (1979: 91)
by Ngambe (another Tikar chiefdom) from the
Mimble clan (possibly also Wute). Njoya recounts
variants of a rather bloodthirsty legend of its intro-
duction in Kimi.3 It is quite likely that the spread
of r/giri is connected with the period of Wute
expansion.
3 The legend tells of three chiefs (princes?), uterine brothers,
who had left “Nguti” (Wute) and were invited by the
Fon of Kimi to settle at Rifum. A child of the Fon
ventured into their quarters and saw r/giri. They killed
the child and ate him. The Fon demanded that they give
him pg/ri. After this incident the three chiefs left, crossed
the River Mape, and settled there. - We are grateful
to Sally Chilver for giving us this important information
and to Ian Fowler for providing us with a copy of the
relevant passages from Njoya’s “Histoire et coutumes des
Bamum.”
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
2 The Princes’ Section (kechiale) in the Oku
Palace before the Advent of rjgele
The situation in Oku was different. Only one secret
society existed in the Oku Palace, viz. kwifon, as
the regulatory society is called in Oku.4 r/gele, the
secret society of the princes (ghon ntok, sg. wan
ntok) and members of the royal family (Mbele),
did not exist before 1948. “r/gele is not an old
thing. It was not in Oku at the beginning” (Faay
Manko). “r/gele has come from Nso’ brought in by
dbkuo we lane (present-day Oku)” (Faay Nsanen).
Its introduction was a difficult and long drawn-out
process, which caused bitter animosity between
Fon/kwifon and the members of the ijgele society
as well as deep divisions within the royal family
and the Oku population as a whole.
The princes had their meeting place in the
Lower Palace called kechiale (literally “mud,”
“swampy place”), sometimes also referred to as
eyshaa ntok - “below the palace”),5 where some
royal masquerades (omnkum mo ntok) were kept.
The origin of kechiale is not clear. Ndishangong
(1984: 57 ff) reports an oral tradition according to
which, during the reign of Fon Yancho6 *, members
of kwifon attempted to kill a son of the Fon. A
serious confrontation broke out between kwifon
and the princes. The princes separated from kwi-
fon and transferred their meeting place down to
kechiale. According to Faay Ndintonen, the royal
masquerade chiaamfa was acquired at that time
and was under their control. The princes gave the
nickname r/kiy meaning “spy” or “observer” to
its “running juju.” r/kiy was supposed to spy on
kwifon and its activities. This tradition has little
currency in Oku. One thing it seems to bring out
clearly, is that the troubled relationship between
the regulatory society kwifon and the princes is
not something that started only of recent.
Before the advent of r/gele in 1948, there were
two groups of masquerades in the Oku palace,
viz. the kwifon masquerades and omnkum mo ntok
(royal masquerades). There are seven omnkum mo
ntok, viz. (1) chiaamfa/r/kiy, (2) fenjii, (3) laabe,
(4) nsum, (5) ber/, (6) sckse and (7) fentiy. Only
some of them are kept at kechiale.
4 Princes and members of the royal family could become
members of kwifon, if they were not too closely related to
the Fon.
5 For a map of the royal palace in Elak-Oku see Bah (2004;
438).
6 Fon Yancho is 7th in the king list following Krauß [1990:
30], or 8th following Koloss [2000: 29].
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
^•1 Chiaamfa/gkiy
All informants were unanimous that chiaamfa/ijkiy
18 the oldest and most important. According to
Nforme Ndula there was only one house in
kechiale before the introduction of shioij in 1948
and that was ndaa ijkiy (house of ijkiy). Faay Laa
suPports this statement: “Oku had one thing at
ke chi ale and that was ch iaamfa/ijkiy ’. In fact some
Members of ijgele today call ijkiy the “founder” of
the r/gele society.
Koloss (2000:251) reports that at some point
ln the past the princes misused the “medicines” of
c'hiaamfa after which it was dissolved by kwifon
and its masks incorporated into foleijgaij, the
u^ain kwifon masquerade.7 It was Fon Yancho
who returned some of the masks to the princes,
thus reestablishing chiaamfa. According to Faay
Ndintonen, members of chiaamfa who become
nchiyse ndaa (members of kwifon) are free to join
feteygaij without further initiation. This ties in
wUh another source which says that foleijgaij and
Qkiaamfa were “originally one thing,” brought to
Oku by the Nkem family. Members of that family
P°mt out that even today the appearance of ijkiy is
stlll announced by shouts of “‘Taboiye, Taboiye,’
ue name of the lesser king who once led the Nkem
ifamily] to Oku” (Koloss 2000: 251).
When chiaamfa dances as a group, ijkiy, its
s^ngle or “running” mask, does not take part in
uu dancing, ijkiy is alleged to have been confis-
cated from an unnamed family. This seems to have
een a common practice in the past. Secret soci-
Ctles, masquerades, or dances were either forceful-
T appropriated by seizing the paraphernalia from
c°nquered neighbours or by peaceful means such
as entering into an alliance with compounds, lin-
ages, or neighbouring tribes. This was part of a
°eotralisation process whereby lineage-based ac-
Vlhes were increasingly appropriated by power-
collecting palace authorities (Gufler 1997; 501). In
e Process of appropriation ijkiy has undergone
a change. The mask was taken over while the
0riginal gown was dropped and a different one
^ded by the palace.8
When ijkiy comes out, either for a palace cele-
the 0n °r w^en if g°es t0 a private compound for
e burial of a member, it is always accompanied
y H’<?/ o ndos, a fully initiated member beating the
iTlab hand drum called ndos. The man, bare to the
§ P as^s °f fdler/gar) although it wears a different gown.
n°n a description of the ijkiy mask and its gown see Argenti
U996: 235).
Anth
57
waist, holds the drum by a string with his left hand
while beating it at intervals with a piece of the root
of a fig tree or the tough, reddish inner part of a
mature bamboo (keshishik). He keeps a safe dis-
tance from the masquerade. It is said that even for
an initiated member it is very dangerous to get into
contact with the masquerade. According to some
people to touch its gown means certain death. The
rest of the accompanying members (ijgaijseijkiy)
again keep a gap between themselves and the wel d
ndos. When crossing a bridge, ijkiy always crosses
first alone followed by wel o ndos before the rest
of the group. When ijkiy attends a burial it is given
a cock (like mabu kwifon)4, returning the following
day (kechii obyii) it is given a fowl, a calabash of
wine and eydiij o keban (loaves of fufu on a tray
made of spear grass [eysen]).
New members are initiated into ijkiy only when
ndaa ijkiy is opened. It is opened when a Fon dies
and the new Fon is initiated into ijkiy. Every new
Fon must be initiated into ijkiy. Secondly, ndaa
ijkiy is also opened at the request of the Fon which
may be at any time. To become a member of
ijkiy one first has to give njemte (ritual food), then
nton omnduk (two calabashes of wine), two fowls,
a tray of three loaves of fufu (eydiij o keban),
five logs of firewood, 200 CFA in place of two
cowry shells and 100 CFA to buy the right to
enter ndaa ijkiy wearing shoes.9 After some time
one is asked to bring two fowls referred to as
ijgvose ketuu (fowls, head). Members who have
given ijgvose ketuu have the right to allow a strand
of hair to grow long on the right side of the head
(which is usually hidden under a cap). Any Oku
man, irrespective of clan, can be initiated into
chiaamfa (Faay Kerning). If somebody has been
initiated into ijkiy he can enter sekse and nsum
without further payments, but the reverse is not
possible.
Chiaamfa has eight masks: three bird masks,
a vulture, another large bird, a bat, an ele-
phant and a buffalo.10 Chiaamfa dances to a xy-
lophone, two drums, a windpipe or flute (ke-
furj) and the small hand drum (ndos). Its impor-
tance can be measured by the fact that it occu-
pies the second place after foleijgaij, the most
important masquerade of kwifon, and at death
celebrations at the palace it dances immediate-
ly after it. It is one of the characteristics of
chiaamfa that it dances only for a very short
9 On the first occasion the candidate enters barefoot.
10 For an illustration of the chiaamfa masks see Koloss
(2000: 252).
lropos 101.2006
58
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
time,11 12 * one minute at the most. After having hardly
started the dance, seeing the masks suddenly leave
the dancing field, followed by the instrument
players shouldering their instruments, is a strange
and confusing sight for somebody who sees it for
the first time.
As to its organisation, the person regarded as
ba omnkum (father, masquerade) of chiaamfa/ijkiy
is Faay Nkofon. The current Ba Ntok and Faay
Bafon assist him.
2.2 Fenjii
Fenjii dances as a group of over twenty maskers
with feathered headdresses and sporting beautiful
gowns made of the most expensive and prestigious
cloths like kenlanlar/ or doma (royal or “Bikom
cloth”), fenchii (satin, silk material smooth and
shiny on one side), and kenfiyle. All these types
of cloth are prerogatives of the Fon and the royal
family (Mbele). Only the Fon has the right to give
them as mbukmaa (gift) to other clans like Mbulum
and objor).
Shey Alfred Ngwiy offered the following ety-
mology: “Fenjii is so called because it was seen
as a r/kfdm12 who is greeted with or answered by
‘njii.’ This masquerade was seen as a ijkfom and
given the respect due a gkfdm. ‘NjiV is a greeting
reserved for the ‘big men’ of the society. At that
time the only ‘big men’ were the r/kfomse.”
When fenjii dances at the palace with the Fon
as the kam (leader mask) he comes out from the
Fon’s area of the palace while the other dancers
come up from kechiale. If the Fon is not leading,
Ba Ntok (the office holder at the time) dances with
the leading mask. Fenjii is led by a masquerade
called feyesewey said to have been introduced
by Fon Ngek. It signals to the onlookers that
fenjii is approaching. It wields a broom with
which it pretends to sweep the dancing space for
kam and to clean people’s feet and it expects
to be rewarded with a small gift. Feyesewey
wears a skullcap decorated with cowries, a face-
net and a short gown. It has no ankle rattles.
One of the distinguishing features of fenjii is
11 Local etymology derives chiaamfa from chiaa kekaase
which means “to pass through a cleared farm.” It also
means “passing without stopping or delaying” - chiaa
ken cyyio eyyio. The name chiaamfa, therefore, describes
the masquerade’s brief dance “which is just like passing
through the dancing space (obwey).”
12 gkfam is the original name in the Oku language of a titled
family head or “big man” now called Faay.
that the pieces of its xylophone are made of
camwood.
Fenjii dances at the palace but it may also
dance in any Mbele compound where an old
death is celebrated with the exception of Mbele
compounds that are still under the palace, e.g.,
the compound of Faay Chung in Key on. When it
dances at the palace its ntal (entertainment fee) is
five fowls, five pots of wine {ntonse omnduk) and
five trays of fufu (tedir) a keban). When dancing
in a compound away from the palace, it is given
all the above mentioned plus two goats. One goat
goes to the palace as the Fon’s share. Sometimes
fowls are brought to the dancing area. A masker
as well as members of the support group of the
masquerade who get hold of a fowl can take it with
them as their own share. There have been cases
reported where two maskers have fought over a
fowl and in the process tom the unfortunate fowl
apart.
2.3 Laabe
Laabe was originally a war juju. Similar mas-
querades are found in the neighbouring kingdoms
of Ake and Din. Before mfu and manjor/ were
introduced in Oku, laabe was said to have been
in charge of the war medicine. Laabe was used in
war to confuse the enemy (Shey Alfred Ngwiy).
Nowadays, when manjor/ fires guns, laabe still
runs ahead. In praise of laabe “people shout ‘Тэт
wel balak!' (Shoot the stranger!), because laabe
and nontar/ chased strangers out of Oku and shot
one at Chak village as they struggled to flee” (Faay
Ndintonen).
Laabe was originally owned by Faay Ndikon-
sum of Kfom (Mbele). It is said to have been
brought to the palace in the reign of Fon Mkong
Ewuu (3rd in the king list), “because it had become
too powerful and dangerous” (Koloss 2000: 191).
The fact that initiation into laabe cannot take place
in the palace in the absence of Faay Ndikon-
sum or his representative, Nforme Ndula, sup-
ports the claim that laabe was originally owned
by Faay Ndikonsum. Further proof of this is
that the last initiation into laabe, a few years
ago, was done at Kum эукиу, the compound
of Faay Ndikonsum and not at the palace (Sarn
Mentan).
Similar to chiaamfa/r/kiy, laabe, too, has a
“running” juju. But it is “totally unlike rjkiy in
character, movements, dress and headdress. It is
robed in a gown of human hair, with a faceless
helmet-mask of long, thick dreadlocks tipped with
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
59
cowry shells” (Argent! 1996: 236).13 Some people
refer to it as a mask with a “Rasta”-like hairstyle
decorated with cowries. Cowries are a prerogative
of the Fon and the royal family. It carries three
spears and a baton. Like ijkiy it wears no ankle
rattles. Its movements are erratic. It never walks
but runs in short sprints. In the past it was
used to punish wrongdoers with beatings. Even
nowadays it brings down its hand in a heavy
blow on crouching men, mostly initiated members,
who somehow “feel honoured in the process of
humiliation” (Argenti 1996: 236). The “running”
mask attends funerals of all members of the royal
family and it makes an appearance again on the
second day, the day of celebration. Laabe also
intervenes when a serious conflict erupts in a
compound of the royal family (Mbele). Laabe is
accompanied by an initiated member, usually of
nchiy ndaa status, blowing a small wooden flute
(see).
During the reign of Fon Mkong Ndakoh (d.
1909) laabe was confiscated by kwifon following
an incident involving its “running” juju. After the
burial of Prince Kerning at Bow village, laabe did
not return straight to the palace but entered the
market which was being held on that day. In a wild
frenzy it attacked people and wounded several of
them. This action was considered very offensive,
especially since fights are strictly forbidden in
the market. Kwifon then dissolved laabe and
confiscated its paraphernalia. After the death of
Mkong Ndakoh, Ngek Zuelam succeeded. When
he was taken into kwifon, he confessed that he
had been the one who bore the mask of laabe
during the incident at the market after the burial of
Prince Kerning. Ngek Zuelam freely offered to pay
a fine of five goats to kwifon. Kwifon then agreed to
return the masquerade to the royal family under the
condition that its “medicine men” were selected
from members of laabe who were also members
of kwifon (Koloss 2000: 191). The equipment of
the runner mask is still in the custody and under
the control of kwifon today but the costumes of the
dancing laabe are said to be kept in ndaa r/kiy in
kechiale.
Laabe dances at old death celebrations in the
palace. It comes out in a group of about twen-
ty maskers wearing feather headdresses. Its in-
struments consist of two drums, two slit drums,
and a flute (kefurj), but no xylophone. Some-
times the Fon himself dances as leader (kam) of
13 Actually the gown is made of a type of sackcloth into which
tiny patches of human hair are thickly inserted so that the
cloth is completely covered with human hair.
the masquerade at memorial celebrations. When
he does, he wears a special headdress of white
feathers resembling the special feather crown
called fenon o mbor/ which a new Fon wears
when he appears in public for the first time.
As chiaamfa opens the activities of the royal mas-
querades at palace celebrations, so laabe closes
them.
Initiation into laabe takes place about every
four years. There are three grades. The third grade
(laabe ntok - laabe of the night) is associated
with war medicine. “[It] honours the deceased
King: during one of the nights following the
official announcement of the King’s death, it plays
its ‘terrifying’ music” (Koloss 2000: 192). Before
the ndaa omyin (house, gods) in the palace was
furnished with a pan roof, the lead dancer of laabe
would throw his spear into the thatch of the roof
at the end of the dance at palace celebrations.
This was called laabe tom njor) (laabe shoot
moon), most probably because the spear was
thrown upwards into the sky, i.e., in the direction
of the moon.
2.4 Nsum
Although a kekum o ntok, nsum is looked after
and kept in Faay Chung’s compound at Key on.
Shey Alfred Ngwiy insists that the compound of
Faay Chung “is only a storehouse (eychiaa) for
the masks because the gowns are kept in the
palace.”14 According to Faay Ndintonen, nsum
was created by Chung who gave it to his father
Fon Kerning. The Fon accepted it but indicated
that it should be kept in Key on, in Chung’s
compound. Koloss (2000: 255), in another version,
states that nsum was founded by Fon Ngum Tayeah
who then gave it to one of his brothers whose
successor became Faay Chung of Keyon. Faay
Chung, although living in his own compound in
Keyon, has a special relationship with the palace
in that he never really separated from it. Death
celebrations of his family are still celebrated in
the palace and not in his compound.
Nsum is a masquerade of about 25 wooden
masks. According to one informant (Faay Ndin-
tonen) nsum and laabe are said to have similar
medicines so that when one is initiated into laabe
one has access to nsum. This is strongly denied by
Nforme Ndula of Kfom.
14 One of the reasons given for this arrangement is that the
masquerade cannot perform without the consent of the
Fon.
Anthropos 101.2006
60
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
2.5 Beg
Beg means rainy season. This royal masquerade
dances as a group of more than 15 wooden masks,
one among them with huge jaws called neya.
Originally it is said to have been introduced by Fon
Ngek. Nowadays, beg dances only in the palace.
In the past it used to dance also in compounds
of the obwey we saamba (the seven “great Lords”
of Mbele), like that of Ndikentum, Ndishangong,
Bainkong, and Ndifon of Lui.
When beg comes out, princesses accompany the
dancers carrying food baskets (kelse) with corn
flour which they gradually sprinkle on the ground.
As the dancers leave the dancing ground, they
sprinkle flour on the maskers until members of
the support group collect the baskets with their
content. It is quite obvious that we are dealing
here with a symbol of fertility. One of the func-
tions of the beg masquerade is clearly the en-
hancement of fertility, a good harvest, and plenty
of food.
At the beginning of the dance the leader mask
(,kam) leans its spear on the door of the ndaa eykuo
(the house of the women’s secret society fembien)
where at royal death celebrations food is prepared
for the kensoy eykuo. He collects it again when
the masquerade is leaving the dancing field at the
end of the dance.
An interesting feature of the beg masquerade is
the belief that each time beg dances, the weather
must change as rain clouds appear in the sky even
in the dry season. It is often compared with the
performance of the omntiy rituals where one ritual
is said to bring rain, another wind and yet another
sun (Bah 2004: 447 f.)
2.6 Sekse
This royal masquerade with its ten wooden masks
is not kept at kechiale but by Mkong Taa, a
prince, in Tinkong (Bow village). Similar to nsum,
the wooden masks are kept in Tinkong but its
costumes are in the palace. It seems that this
is again a safety precaution, namely to prevent
a prince or other members of the royal family
from taking the masquerade for a celebration
without the permission of the Fon. According
to Koloss (2000: 255) it was founded, like the
nsum royal masquerade, by Fon Ngum Tayeah and
entrusted to a member of the Mbele family whose
successor is the present Babey Ndigham (of Bow).
Sekse dances in the palace and in individual
compounds.
2.7 Fentiy
Fentiy means hailstone (pi. omntiy) and is said
to be indicative of the great number of maskers
(about 30), “as numerous as hailstones.” The
distinguishing feature of this masquerade is that
its leader mask (kam) wears a brass mask (eytian)
and holds a walking stick in his hand (instead of
the usual spear or cutlass).15 * The walking stick
of kam fentiy is decorated with beadwork. Its
gown is made of fenchii cloth (satin). Only the
Fon may dance with the brass mask. The brass
mask is a symbol of greatness and wealth (Faay
Ndintonen).
Nowadays, fentiy dances only at the palace. In
former times it used to dance also in individual
compounds but before it would agree to do so the
family head had to indicate that he had a young
girl, a virgin, to give to the palace as Fon’s wife.
“This was a very difficult condition, so people
just turned their backs on fentiy” (Shey Alfred
Ngwiy).
3 The Establishment of rjgele
3.1 The Introduction of shiog
Until 1947, the year when Fon Bi’fon I of Nso’
died, Oku and Nso’ were not on good terms. There
was a long-standing unresolved problem between
the two fraternal chiefdoms which is said to have
arisen from the killing of an Oku woman in Nso’.
It is difficult to get the exact details of what had
happened since it is said to have taken place a
very long time ago. Faay Kerning (5th October
2004) remembers the following story told to him
while he was a nchiy ntok at the palace; “The Nso’
had wronged Oku ... There was a time when
Nso’ had planned ‘war’ against Oku. They got
halfway to Oku where they entered the bush and
spent the night lying in ambush. In the morning
they discovered many of their people had died in
their sleep without apparent cause. This led them
to abandon the ‘war’ expedition. Later on they
made a second attempt. When they were marching
towards Oku they met a young woman called
Kembong from Oku. She was on her way to Nso’.
She was butchered. This brought much ill luck to
the Nso’ people because in warfare a woman is
not killed.” When the Oku people heard about this
killing, they cut off all relations with the Nso’.
15 A masquerade with a brass mask exists also in Kom, Ake,
and Din.
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
A similar story was told by Faay Manko but he
linked the catching and killing of the girl with the
^ath and burial of the Fon of Nso’ which had
happened at that time.16
After Sambum III17 (Sam III, alias Mbinglo,
1947-1972), had been installed, the two chief-
d°ms decided to settle their problem. The Fon
ln Oku, at that time, was Ngum Yute (1940-
1956). Five Faays of kebcy ks saamba status from
Oku18 and five senior Faays from Nso’ were cho-
Sen to perform the reconciliation sacrifice called
keman. Each chiefdom brought a goat. The keman
^as performed at the river separating Meluf from
iobin. “They called on their ancestors saying: ‘Our
fathers accept this sacrifice. We have finished the
Problem you have started’” (Faay Manko). After
hto ritual both parties took along part of the mix-
ture of earth, medicinal leaves used in the rite,
ar,d some waste extracted from the stomachs of
goats sacrificed. This mixture was taken to the
rivo respective palaces as a proof “that the keman
had been carried out” (Faay Kerning).
After settling their differences, the people of
^ So’ came to Oku for the celebration of the death
°f Fon Ngek Zuelam (d. 1940) and r/giriNso’ took
Part- Since a princes’ society did not yet exist in
ku, a place had to be found to accommodate
Vgiri Nso’. Kechiale, the princes’ compound at
ae Lower Palace, was too small and it is said
al that time only two houses existed there, one
which was ndaa r/kiy (house of r/kiy). So they
^vacuated all the people from Wamey’s compound
\dbchio cylar/) which was situated opposite kwi-
JOn s compound and shielded it by placing bamboo
[*ats all around it. r/giri Nso’ stayed there for
e duration of the celebration, r/giri Nso’ came
°ut to display in the palace courtyard {obwey
nt°k) with shigwala and mbuh r/giri. These figures
^ere not masked, “like the r/gaij masquerade in
19 (Faay Ndintonen). In 1948 r/giri Nso’ had
wooden masks yet. Fon Ngum was greatly
n former times, it is said that in some chiefdoms at the
eath of a Fon a person was buried alive with him, for
example, in Bum and Kom. One of the authors of this article
!-r^).Was tolcl that this was also the practice in Small Kimi
Kind Petel), a fringe Tikar chiefdom east of Sabongari.
ut this seems not to have been the custom in Nso’ and
. Oku.
17 o
01 bum III is said to be the son of an Oku woman from
et°ngwang (Bow), of Ndingamkong’s compound (Faay
anko). This could be the reason why he wanted to make
18 Tr,aCe w'ta Oku on his accession to the throne.
these Were Paav Foov T^minrr Rqqi,
Chung, and Faay Ndifon. , the
19 They were not masked, because they a
castor oil plant on their heads.
were Faay Baijong, Faay Kerning, Faay Ibal, Faay
^nthr,
'°Pos 101.2006
61
disappointed that the masquerades of the princely
society of Nso’ should go around without helmet
masks. Within a week of their departure he sent
them a wooden mask20 which was similar to mabu
r/weror/. This did not go down well with r/weror/,
the regulatory society in Nso’. r/weror/ claimed that
wooden masks were solely reserved for them. But
since the mask was mbu ’mi (mbukmaa in the Oku
language), that is a present or gift from the Fon of
Oku, and the permission to wear it had been given
by Fon Mbinglo, r/weror/ had to acquiesce (Mzeka
1980: 110).
In the same year (1948), about three or four
months after the death celebration in Oku, the
people of Oku went to Nso’ to celebrate the
death of Fon Bi’fon I (d. 1947). The Fon of
Nso’ had been surprised that Oku had no princes’
society and he urged the Fon of Oku to start
a society for the princes (ghon ntok) and male
members of the royal family (Mbele). As a return
gift for the shigwala mask Fon Mbinglo gave
the Fon of Oku the ensemble of mbuh r/giri, a
net-mask figure, including a cane with which this
masquerade moved around, as a sign that he had
given r/giri to Oku. This was the humble beginning
of r/gele, as the princes’ society came to be called
in Oku.
But the Fon and princes of Oku did not just take
over the mbuh i/giri masquerade. They adapted it
to their own needs. The masquerade was equipped
with a simple helmet (often referred to as a
skullcap - r/kad) made out of cane which was
covered with cloth and decorated with cowry
shells. It was originally created by late Pa Bailak
of Keyon. Fon Ngum is said to have donated an
old gown of r/kiy. The masquerade came to be
known as shior/, also called fewan r/gele (child of
r/gele). Originally, the Fon allowed the princes to
have one shior/ masquerade. But the princes found
it necessary to add a second. The shior/se carried a
long bamboo (obtotom) decorated like the walking
sticks of the princes (ghon ntok) and a horsewhip.
Until the beginning of the 1970s the masquerade
of r/gele consisted of only these two shior/se.
One of the most important tasks of a shior/ was
to run ahead of the r/kiy mask to warn people of
its coming and to clear its path. Also, whenever
the need arose, the masquerades were sent out
to the different villages of Oku to rally members
of the princes’ society to come to work in the
palace or in kechiale, their headquarters. Finally,
they were used to collect njangi money (obkaa
ngwa) from those members who defaulted. The
20 Some people talk of two masks.
62
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
Fon had encouraged members to start a njangi
(a type of credit and savings association) to save
money so that they could help themselves and their
families. It did not last long before the shiorj mas-
querades acquired notoriety for being very violent.
“When they appeared in a defaulter’s compound,
the person had to appease the masquerade with a
fowl, else they would cut down banana stems and
dump them into the fireside until the money owed
was brought” (Faay Ndintonen). Some members
of rjgele now try to play down the violent be-
haviour of the shiorjse. “They were not used as
a tool of oppression or punishment on defaulters.
They were violent, yes, but just for fun.” Accord-
ing to Faay Manko of Ngashie, Fon Ngum had
to intervene and stop the violent behaviour of the
shiorjse.
Outwardly there was only the new masquerade
shiorj which showed that rjgele had come to Oku.
But within the princes’ compound, too, a number
of things were already happening. Primarily rjgele
was set up to bring the princes and other mem-
bers of the royal family (Mbele) together. They
started a njangi (kechil d ngwa) to save money
to help themselves and their families. They met
on a weekly basis to discuss matters concerning
their new society and the royal family such as
work in the palace or the princes’ compound,
death celebrations, etc. Some princes were sent to
Nso’ to get better acquainted with the organisation
and running of the rjgiri society there. They were
taking the lead from Nso’. Newcomers who want-
ed to join the rjgele society had to be initiated.
There were several grades one could be admitted
to by paying the required entrance fees (ntarj),
the highest of which was kebam d rjgele (bag of
rjgele).21
The princes’ compound ([kebey rjgele, kechiale),
too, saw a great improvement. Before the intro-
duction of rjgele there was, according to several
informants, only one house standing, namely ndaa
rjkiy. In due time the members of rjgele put up
two additional structures, viz. a large assembly hall
(.rjgay) and a house for shiorj.
3.2 The “Baijong Incident”
The violent behaviour of the shiorjse was only the
beginning of the problems Fon Ngum had with
rjgele. The situation deteriorated after what we call
the “Baijong incident.” This happened after new
21 Fon Sentie, when still a prince, gave an earthenware pot as
part of the ntarj for his rjgele bag.
wives were recruited for the Fon. New Fon’s wives
are taken to the palace when they are still young
girls where they are put in charge of older wives
to be trained. According to Faay Manko there is
no force exerted on families to give wives to the
Fon. When a Fon gives out a princess in marriage,
he has the right to receive a girl from that family
years later. “Them go talk say this woman whe he
dey so, na Fon be give you for first time, whether
na Fon Yancho or Fon Mkong or Fon Ngek or
Fon Kerning or who, then you take pikin for
that family come put’m for palace” (Faay Manko,
31st August 2004). Among the new Fon’s wives
recruited (yiose, literally “rubbed” with camwood)
was the daughter of Baijong’s sister, from the
family of Prince Ngek Fimle who was one of
the princes accused of having committed adultery
with Fon Ngek’s wives and who subsequently was
exiled. He had settled in Vekovi, Nso’ territory. It
is said that this girl’s grandmother, the mother of
Prince Ngek Fimle, was a princess22 and so the
Fon had a right to get a wife from that family as
a replacement for the princess he had given. What
the family, and especially Baijong, seems to have
objected to, was that the girl was still too closely
related to the Fon to be given to the Fon as wife
(Seh Peter Kerning). When Baijong heard about
this, he was furious. He is said to have loaded a
gun and gone straight to the palace. He vowed to
kill the Fon or any person who dared to prevent
him from taking the girl away. Baijong took the
girl unhindered, snatched the string of cowries
from her head, and tore it to pieces before leaving
for Vekovi. According to one account, before
leaving he stepped on the palace veranda and
shouted out the Fon’s name, “Ngum,” adding that
“if he [Fon] had no blood in him, he should come
out and see if he would not see death” (Fon Ngum
III; Nforme Ndula).
Some time later, during a death celebration at
the palace23 the Fon came out onto the palace
veranda to present a fowl to rjkiy and the shiorj
masquerade accompanying rjkiy came near to the
Fon, cutlass in hand. Looking at its legs the
Fon guessed that inside the shiorj masquerade
was none other than Baijong, his personal enemy
22 The term wan ntok (prince, pi. ghon ntok) strictly refers to
a son of the Fon (son of the leopard skin) but it is often
used in a much wider sense. Male descendants of the Fon of
the third and even fourth generation and sons of princesses
may refer to themselves as ghon ntok.
23 According to Faay Ndishangong it was the occasion of
Yute’s, that is Fon Ngum’s mother’s reburial in the tombs
of the queens at which Faay Kerning of ayghok e Ntul
officiated.
Anthropos 101.2006
The
Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
63
who had once vowed to kill him. That the Fon
guessed correctly was confirmed by Faay Kerning.
Faay Kerning was angered because the shior/ (i.e.,
Buijong) had beaten him with its horsewhip for
refusing to provide enough room for r/kiy. The Fon
felt threatened and seemingly feared a conspiracy
against him. Overcome by a sudden burst of anger
the Fon turned round and disappeared through
the bamboo door (abchio ntok) into the Inner
Palace without presenting the fowl to r/kiy. To
add insult to injury, a nchiy ntok (palace retainer)
is said to have taken an empty wine calabash,
Pretending that it was full of wine, and carried
it down to kechiale, the princes’ compound. The
Princes felt deeply insulted and vowed that for
as long as the celebration lasted no kekum a ntok
w°uld participate. Faay Ndintonen recounts what
happened next;
hiaamfa was the main masquerade at kechiale, sec-
0r*d only to kwifon’s folEijgaij. Traditionally chiaamfa
Ways dances straight after falsrjgar/ when there is a
C£lebration at the palace. The Fon waited the whole day
p, Vain for the participation of the ghon ntok to start.
inally he sent messengers to Mbejiaame, Keyon, and
a chi° Nkaa, inviting the royal family heads (Mbele)
I’ these compounds to the nchii amyin (the house of
e gods) for a meeting. When they had gathered, the
°n presented them with two big cocks, two trays of
u (tedirj keban) and a jug of wine (nton amnduk). He
aP°logised saying that he had overreacted and behaved
an irrational manner towards the princes because he
recognised Baijong, his personal enemy who had
Wed to kill him, moving around as shiorj even to the
P°mt of stepping on the palace veranda. Since the Fon
la apologised and tio njio (spit guilt) the Mbele family
ads relented. The gifts were conveyed to kechiale
the celebration went ahead (Faay Ndintonen, 1st
November 2003).
After this incident, according to one version of
ents, Fon Ngum banned shiorj outright and with
Dgele society in Oku (Koloss 2000: 267).
Tight, nchiyse ndaa (members of kwifon) were
Pposedly sent to kechiale to bring the parapher-
Ia of the shiorj masquerade which were then
urnt (Nforme Ndula of Kfom). Before his death
re fh February 1956) Fon Ngum is said to have
firmed the ban by a ritual proclamation called
P • But there is another version which states that
tj^nj^§Ulfi only boycotted and “totally rejected”
ban society but did not actually
p lt- What he banned was the shior) masquerade.
j tbat day on shior) no longer accompanied the
masquerade. The princes ignored the Fon and
the mue^ on their own, without any support from
Palace (Seh Peter Kerning).
Anthr°Pos 101.2006
Sentie succeeded as Fon of Oku and was
installed on 2nd May 1956. Before becoming Fon
he was a member of rjgele. It is said that the wine
pot in the rjgele compound was given by him as
ntarj kebam ne wen (gift required for his rjgele bag)
when he was still a prince (Faay Ndishangong of
Mbejiaame), but when he became Fon he seems
to have given it the cold shoulder. It is not clear
what caused this change of attitude towards the
rjgele society. One reason could be the legacy
of prohibition or total rejection by Ngum Yute.
“Sentie had good relationships with rjgele while
a prince, but when he became Fon he took over
the objections Fon Ngum had against rjgele” (Faay
Kerning).
When the people of Nso’ came to Oku to cel-
ebrate the death of Fon Ngum Yute in 1956, rjgiri
Nso’ took part. They were very disappointed that
rjgele was still not functioning properly in Oku.
They promised to help the princes to reestablish
their society. Nso’s support to establish r/gele in
Oku was deemed of utmost importance by the
Mbele.
The matter concerning the prospective Fon’s
wife seized back from the palace by Baijong was
finally settled during the reign of Fon Sentie. Pa
Nforme Ndula and another person were sent to
report the matter to the Fon of Nso’ who agreed
to approach Prince Ngek Fimle in Vekovi. The
outcome was that the family concerned substituted
another girl for the one removed from the palace.
“Before Baijong died, he had already brought a
replacement to the palace where he started with
a ntarjgle as Fon Ngum was already dead. This
happened during Fon Sentie Njia Tee’s reign”
(Faay Kerning). The new obvii ntok (Fon’s wife) is
reported to be still living in the palace today (2004)
having delivered many children. The settlement of
the Baijong issue removed some of the tension
between rjgele and Fon Sentie.
3.3 The Beginning of “Disturbing Events and
Unrest”24
In the meantime, rjgiri Nso’ had been making
great strides as regards reorganisation and increase
of membership of their society. From the few
references we have, it emerges that rjgiri Nso ’ also
had a turbulent, sometimes even violent history
since its introduction at the beginning of the 20th
century. “According to Mzeka [1980: 106 f.], Fon
Mapiri (1907-10) promoted it and even used it
24 Koloss 2000: 266.
64
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
executively ... Bi’fon I placed it under an interdict
after a brawl with ngwerong in 1925, which
occasioned the intervention of a British officer.
This did not prevent a second brawl ten years later
which led to the destruction of its compound and
reorganization. Som III is said to have favoured
it despite tensions in 1958. There was a further
affray in 1976” (Chem-Langhee et al. 1985: 172).
From its underdog position, r/giri Nso’ has
always been striving to catch up with r/weror/,
even to surpass it. Up to the 1940s, r/giri Nso’
had no wooden masks. It was only in 1948 that
shigwala she r/giri began to wear a mask similar
to that of mabu ijwerong, a gift from the Fon of
Oku, as we have seen earlier. In 1958, yee r/giri
(mother of r/giri) in Nso’ still had no mask (other
than a gowned and hooded figure) although it had
a strong medicine (shiv) and musical instruments
(Chem-Langhee et al. 1985: 172). Then, in the
1960s, there was a proliferation of masks; r/giri
Nso’ created five new masquerades and modified
the existing ones thus surpassing r/weror/’ s number
by two. This development which must be seen in
the light of competition between the two societies
did not go unnoticed in Oku. The princes in
Oku were determined to restart the r/gele society.
An opportunity presented itself during the death
celebration of No Ntok Nenembang in October
1971.
When one Fon’s mother died at Jiyane - it was No Ntok
Nenembang - we had to make r/gele well-equipped. You
see, r/gele in those days before 1971 was not all those
things you see coming out like that. They were not.
r/gele was only that shior/. So now in 1971, we saw that
you cannot be calling something r/gele, r/gele, when it
is not as r/gele should be. So we had to bring in wan
mabu and all these other things (Seh Peter Kerning, 2nd
September 2004).
For this celebration the princes of Oku bor-
rowed two masks and gowns from r/giri Nso’
in addition to their own r/gele masks shior/ and
displayed them at the Fon’s palace. The two mas-
querades were wan mabu and no r/gele (yee r/giri
in Nso’). r/giri Nso’ also supplied them with the
necessary musical instruments. This performance
of r/gele with its borrowed masquerades and music
hit Oku like a bombshell. It took the people of
Oku by surprise and caused panic amongst the
members of kwifon. Kwifon feared competition.
They told the princes that they did not want “two
ngumba (i.e., kwifon societies) for country” (Faay
Manko). They were especially incensed by the
r/gele music, seemingly because it sounded very
much like kwifon’s music, although according to
Faay Ndintonen their music was quite distinct from
that of kwifon. It seems that kwifon was afraid that
r/gele would soon be using r/gemse (double bells).
Shey Alfred Ngwiy admitted that it would have
been difficult to distinguish the music played by
kwifon at night and the one of r/gele had r/gele used
r/gemse. So they refrained from including r/gemse
in their inventory of musical instruments.
So why this uproar and why this fierce opposi-
tion to the “new look” of r/gele in Oku? Several
reasons have been brought forward. The intro-
duction of the “radical” or “Nso’-type” r/gele, as
some people call it, was seen as a threat to the
political order. It was viewed by many as foreign
to Oku tradition and as a challenge to the existing
powers in Oku, especially to the Fon and to kwi-
fon. According to Faay Mbuh Yang Daniel, MP,
Fon Sends was afraid that “if r/gele was given
the go-ahead it would usurp the power of kwifon.
Sends saw kwifon as the only legitimate authority
in Oku and anything with the slightest resemblance
to it was not to be allowed in Oku because it
would diminish the strength of kwifon. Sentis did
not want to see his ‘government’ which is kwifon
destroyed.”
Since it feared the power of the “new” r/gele,
kwifon forbade Mbele who were members of
kwifon as well as r/gele (ghel jiise se baa -
people of two roads) to attend r/gele (Pa Tantoh
Mbungwa). It seems that one of the main reasons
for discomfort amongst Oku people was the fact
that it was a new thing. Kwifon, being a traditional
and very conservative institution, was vehemently
opposed to any new or modern addition to their
respected tradition. It must also be said that the
introduction of the “new” or “radical” r/gele was
sudden and abrupt. People did not know anything
about it and still had to get used to it.
This forceful appearance of r/gele during the
death celebration of No Ntok Nenembang at the
palace had serious consequences. Fon Sentie had
been forewarned that the r/gele society was going
to display their new r/gele masks. He reported
the matter to the administration in Kumbo and
requested that police should be sent to monitor
the situation. He was afraid that the appearance of
the new r/gele masks would cause public disorder.
The administration complied and sent three police
officers.
The police arrived in Flak on Wednesday,
13th October 1971. They were Brigadier Lukong
Evaristus and Constables Lunga Emmanuel and
Moses Andongcho. On arrival at the Oku Palace
they called the leaders of r/gele and, in the presence
of the Fon and parliamentarian Mbuh Yang Daniel,
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
65
wamed them to refrain from dancing r/gele. De-
spite having been warned, three r/gele masquerades
~ shiorj, wan mabu, and no r/gele - displayed at
the palace on Thursday, 14th October 1971, led by
°ne Paul Kukua (Ngong).25 Immediately the police
arrested five r/gele leaders26 and took them to
Kurnbo. The princes were undeterred and “vowed
that their plans to have r/gele established in Oku
Would never change and if r/gele was not allowed
^ exist, kwifon too would cease to exist” (Faay
sdintonen). The princes also reported the matter
to the Fon of Nso’ who pledged his continuous
suPport for the r/gele society in Oku. He failed to
understand why the Fon of Oku supported r/giri in
Nso but not r/gele in Oku.
On Monday, 18th October 1971, the five de-
endants appeared before the Magistrate’s Court
!? Kurnbo. The presiding judge was Magistrate
• E- Mbuagbaw. The r/gele leaders were charged
Wlth “perpetrating a disorder and thereby offend-
ers against section R 369 (5) of the penal code.”
he defendants pleaded not guilty. The case was
f en adjourned to 3rd November 1971. Each de-
endant was “granted bail to the sum of 30,000
TA and one surety each in like sum.”
When the case came up on Wednesday, 3rd
°vernber, the court called three prosecution wit-
nesses, viz. Fon Sentie, Mbuh Yang Daniel (MP),
,ar|d Brigadier Lukong Evaristus. After having lis-
ned to their statements, the court found no evi-
nce that the first four defendants perpetrated any
sorder. Consequently, they were discharged but
the same time they were “bound over” to be
good behaviour or face imprisonment for three
^°nths. However, the fifth defendant, Paul Kukua
ofg^ng, was found guilty and sentenced to a fine
. >000 CFA or one month I.H.L. (imprisonment
Wlth hard labour).
th ^act that the leaders of r/gele had to oppose
|-e'r Bon and family members (Mbele) made them
end ^t they had vowed to fight to the bitter
jt ■ While in court, we stood against Fon Sentie.
^ declared that of the four of us, two - Faay
w lshangong of Mbejiaame and Faay Ndintonen -
re his ‘fathers’ and the other two his sons”
toaay Ndintonen). “Fon Sentie stood up in court
Mbargue against r/gele. I, Faay Ndishangong of
epaarne, argued in favour of r/gele. In court,
^though Paul Kukua was of Oku origin (of Nkwa Bey in
Ichim), he lived in Tadu and was thought by many to be
of a different chiefdom (Nso’). In the court proceedings his
2fS 'rt1*16 *s §Wen as Paul Ngong.
hey were Faay Ndishangong of Mbejiaame, Faay Ndm-
tonen, Shey Fonntameh, Jeremiah Ngum, and Paul Kukua.
Anth
r°pos 101,2006
Sentie said that it was the entire Fondom that
hated r/gele, not him. The Fon of Nso’ had advised
Sentie not to stand in court and talk against r/gele.
I felt ashamed in court as questions were put to
the Fon” (Faay Ndishangong of Mbejiaame, 12th
October 2003).
It is clear that the court case did not deter the
r/gele society in the least. It made them even more
determined to fight on. On 23rd November 1971,
barely a month after they had been discharged,
the four defendants were back in court. They were
charged “for contempt of court by organising and
practicing the functions of a juju called ‘Ngiri’
on 23rd November 1971 at Elak-Oku after having
been ‘bound over.’” After hearing the case, Mag-
istrate T. E. Mbuagbaw gave the following judge-
ment: “The four defendants were bound over to be
of good behaviour on 3/11/71. The court did not
bound them over not to practice the juju of ‘Ngiri.’
There is therefore no contempt of this honourable
court. The four defendants are discharged” (Copy
of Court Proceedings).
Opposition to r/gele in Oku continued unabated
and even intensified. The Fon and kwifon had the
support of their then parliamentarian, Mbuh Yang
Daniel. “As a Member of Parliament I followed
the stand taken by the administration in the matter.
Since the administration had taken the side of the
Fon, I had no choice but to follow ... I did not see
how I could support that such a ‘thing’ could go
on in somebody’s compound when the owner of
that compound (the Fon) was vehemently against
it ... My concern was the Fon’s security and the
peace in Oku as a whole ... I was not interested in
juju” (Faay Mbuh Yang Daniel, MP, 14th October
2004).
It was a coincidence that the Federal Inspector
of Administration, Mr. Ngo, came on a visit to
Kumbo at that time. The purpose of his visit
was to settle the question about where a new
Subdivision should be created in Bui Division.
The Fon of Oku supported by Mbuh Yang Daniel,
MP, and a nchiy ndaa (member of kwifon) were
in favour of creating Oku as a Subdivision. John
Tata, the former parliamentarian who had recently
been ousted by Mbuh Yang Daniel, decided to
exploit the disagreement (between the new MP
and r/gele) to his advantage. He allied himself
with the Mbele and accused the parliamentarian
of rejecting r/gele because he was a nchiy ndaa.
The exparliamentarian and his followers supported
Mr. Kilo of Nso’ in his bid that Oku should form
part of Jakiri Subdivision. Mr. Ngo, the Federal
Inspector, for his part insisted that Oku must go to
Jakiri. The princes, mixing up the r/gele issue with
66
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
local politics, said that as the Fon hated them they
were going to support those who favoured Jakiri
over Oku as the Subdivision. In a tit-for-tat move
a delegation from Oku opposed to rjgele seized
this opportunity to meet the Federal Inspector and
in their report stated “that the princes in Oku
had formed a party (meaning a ‘political party’)
called rjgele" (Seh Peter Kerning). Just to mention
the name “party” at that time of the one-party
system was already a serious offence. As a result,
the rjgele society in Oku was banned by the
S.D.O. Bui Division on 18th March 1972. The
princes were prohibited from meeting in cyshaa
ntok - kechiale, their rjgele headquarters. The
administration reasoned that to allow the princes’
society to operate in the Fon’s palace would lead
to “anarchy” since they would be operating against
the will of the Fon (Faay Mbuh Yang Daniel). As a
further escalation of the conflict, kwifon announced
in the Oku Palace, on 29th August 1972, that Faay
Ndishangong and Faay Ndintonen were “to leave
this compound on exile.”
All these punitive measures were ignored by the
members of rjgele and they continued their activi-
ties at kechiale. In October 1973, the police came
from Kumbo and raided the rjgele compound. They
confiscated all their masks and musical instruments
and arrested 28 members who were at the time
in the rjgele compound. They were made to sit
in front of the palace with all the paraphernalia
taken from the rjgele compound before being taken
to Kumbo. The rjgele compound was sealed off
and declared out of bounds to all members of
rjgele. When the matter came up in court, rjgele
lost the case. The four leaders were sentenced
to one month’s imprisonment and the rest of the
defendants were given a fine of 2,000 CFA each.
The four leaders who had been taken to Bamenda
to start their prison sentence appealed. They hired
lawyer Omar Sendze, a Nso’ man. The legal fees
amounted to 82,200 CFA. The money was raised
by taxing every rjgele member in Oku at 500 CFA.
The case was judged in the High Court at Bamenda
on 14th January 1974. The court decided in rjgele's
favour and declared the establishment of rjgele in
Oku as rightful and lawful. However, there was
an unfortunate twist to the story. According to
Shey Fonntameh, Faay Ndintonen, one of the three
defendants, refused to answer any questions in
court. That is why his sentence of one month’s
imprisonment was upheld. While the other three
defendants were released, Faay Ndintonen had to
finish his prison term. Lawyer Sendze advised the
members of the rjgele society to select a neutral
venue for rjgele activities to go on, since they were
not allowed to go back to their compound in the
Oku Palace. So rjgele moved to Faay Ndintonen’s
compound. They stayed there until the case end-
ed. To the consternation of the rjgele society, the
S.D.O. of Bui Division, Mr. Kisob, refused to lift
the ban.
There was stalemate once more. A dangerous
incident then happened on March 2, 1979, when
Faay Ndishangong of Mbejiaame decided “to bring
rjgele back home.”
When Faay Mbejiaame went to Nso’ to bring back
rjgele, he did not inform the other three [leaders] because
he had earlier advanced the idea and it had been refused.
Before he left, he came to me to collect the ankle rattles
(ombuak) his son had kept with me. He told me that
they were his and he would like to have them under
his control. He did not reveal his intentions to me.
He went to Kumbo to get permission to restart rjgele
but was directed to go to Jakiri because Oku was then
under Jakiri Subdivision. He went to Jakiri and asked
for the subprefectorial decision reinstating rjgele. After
acquiring the desired document, Faay Mbejiaame started
off for Oku via Mvem, unmasked. He had the gown and
the mask of yee rjgiri (no rjgele) in his bag. When he
got to Simonkoh he masked himself. He was seen by
Joseph Mbunda, a son of Fon Sends, who ran to the
palace to inform the Fon. A plan was concocted to stop
the masquerade when it arrived (Faay Ndintonen, 1st
November 2003).
Faay Ndishangong of Mbejiaame continues to
tell what happened next:
At a certain time, the administration in Nso’ said it
would be good for rjgele to come back after winning
its case in court. There were individuals in kwifon who
found fault with rjgele but this was not a view shared
by all. I was advised that the masquerade must come
home as a masquerade to let Oku people know that it
was back in its compound. When I came home, masked
in no rjgele, I went right down to the kola nut trees
besides rjgele's compound. Then, all of a sudden, I found
Mbunda, Lemba, and Jiongwa pursuing me. They told
me to go with the mask to my own compound and not
to the palace. Since the administration had advised that
there should be no fight, I started to move back with my
arms behind my neck. When we got to the old market
(dbwey sarj), very close to kwifon's compound, one of
them asked me if they had allowed me to carry the mask
and gown home. They held me and took everything that
was on me. Those things are still with kwifon today-
But it was not the problem of kwifon because if you kill
somebody and run into another person’s compound, you
are still the one liable for the killing (Faay Ndishangong
of Mbejiaame, 12th October 2003).
After Faay Ndishangong of Mbejiaame had
been unmasked in public “he continued walking
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
with only his ankle rattles on, ‘half-juju,’ an
abominable act in Oku and elsewhere in the
Grassfields. He had already decided that he would
walk around with the rattles on to disgrace the
‘system’ by revealing to the women what was
behind the mask. He first went down to eyshaa
nt°k, r/gele’s compound, but then decided to go
borne. He was stopped by a man called Bafon
Yuwun who then removed the rattles from his
ankles” (Faay Ndintonen). After this incident, the
Fon informed the administration in Jakiri. The
flatter was taken before the Magistrate’s Court at
Jakiri. The r/gele society again hired the services
°f lawyer Sendze.27 This time the case backfired
for the Fon and kwifon. The people who held Faay
Ndishangong and unmasked him were charged and
fifed for unlawfully detaining him.
As a postscript, a sad event has still to be
recorded. Not long after Faay Ndishangong of
^bejiaame had been unmasked and walked around
half-juju” with only his ankle rattles on, he
became mentally deranged and has remained so
fftil today. Many people blame it on his insistence
°f bringing r/gele to Oku and on his disrespect
for “tradition.” To many people it was the logical
outcome of having defied Fon and kwifon. Other
Pe°ple, however, question this by saying that many
fiore people were involved in defying the Fon and
kwifon but none of them has been affected except
Faay Ndishangong. So there must be a different
reason why he became mentally deranged.
^•4 The Intervention by the D.O. of Jakiri,
Mr. Peter Oben, on Behalf of ggele
^fter the raid on the r/gele headquarters in the
ower Palace by the police in 1973, the princes
andoned the r/gele compound and continued
eir activities in Faay Ndintonen’s compound
the result that slowly their former place
reverted to bush. This seemingly provoked the
afcestors’ wrath who began to haunt the place
an<J “asked for an explanation.” It is said that
th°n Jben wrote to the Government pleading
at the ban placed on r/gele be lifted so that the
lnces and members of r/gele could relaunch their
1 vities at eyshaa ntok - kechiale. It was then
at the Divisional Officer of Jakiri, Mr. Peter
k en’ was sent to Oku to “physically” lift the
n (Faay Ndintonen). The princes had meanwhile
According to the receipts kept by Nforme Jacob Ngum, the
a amount in legal fees paid to lawyer Sendze for three
cases was 312,900 CFA.
AnihroPos 101.2006
67
been able to convince the public at large of
their progressive ideas and r/gele was now widely
accepted by the people of Oku.
So on September 18, 1982, the Divisional
Officer of Jakiri, Mr. Peter Oben, called a meeting
attended by all parties involved in the dispute -
the Fon, kwifon, and r/gele. Crowds of ordinary
people who did not belong to any of the parties
also gathered at the palace to witness the outcome
of the meeting. “The D.O. judged the case in a very
clear way and solved the problem. At one point he
told the members of kwifon that ‘you cannot wear
clothes and say that another person may not wear
them, except the man has taken yours’” (Seh Peter
Kerning). After the meeting, the D.O. went down
to kechiale and inspected the compound. He did
not find anything wrong with it and allowed the
princes to reoccupy their compound again and hold
their meetings there, r/gele was finally recognised
as lawful after years of suspicion, slander, and
hostility. It is somewhat perplexing that the ban
placed on r/gele Oku by the S.D.O. of Bui Division
on 18th March 1972 was never officially lifted in
writing. It seems to have been done only verbally.
Looking back at the whole affair one cannot but
agree with Faay Kerning who said that “different
S.D.O.s and D.O.s took different stands on the
matter, some opposing it and some being in favour.
This was one reason why the palaver went on for
so long.”
One year after the reestablishment of r/gele in
Oku, the princes’ society joined kwifon and mfu
of Oku to celebrate the death of the Fon of Nso’,
Nga’ Bi’fon II (Dini Mofor) (d. 15th July 1983).
The celebration was marred by a serious distur-
bance caused by Fon Sentic and the kwifon of
Oku. Fon Sentic is said to have sent news to the
palace authorities in Nso’ that the masquerades of
r/gele Oku must not be allowed to perform. The
ensuing quarrel almost got out of hand were it not
for the timely intervention of the forces of law
and order. The S.D.O. for Bui, Mr. Tabi Arampe,
warned the leaders of r/gele “to put a stop to their
activities making it clear that the ban on Ngiri ac-
tivities in Oku was still in force.”28 Some members
of r/gele escaped and ran back to Oku the very
same day.
One can see that the reluctance of the admin-
istration to formally raise the ban on r/gele was
exploited by those who were still opposed to the
existence of r/gele, especially Fon Sentie and some
28 Letter written by the Fon of Oku to the Governor of N. W.
Province, dated 13th July 1984.
68
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
other influential people in Oku. Maybe it is un-
fair to put all the blame on Fon Sends. There is
evidence that some unscrupulous elements had de-
ceived him by taking advantage of his illiteracy to
further their own cause. There is some significant
correspondence between the Fon of Oku and the
administration in Kumbo. On 13th July 1989, the
2nd Assistant Prefect of Kumbo, Mr. Chama Eki
Thomas, sent a letter to the Fon of Oku inquiring
whether there was any problem with the “Ngiri
and Nwerong societies” in Oku. There were two
letters in reply from the Fon of Oku, both stamped
with the Fon’s stamp and thumb-printed by the
Fon. One letter, dated 17th July 1989, stated that
“both societies in Oku are doing fine and that there
is no problem with the two societies and myself
[i.e., the Fon]. Here in Oku the two societies are
helping in the development of the palace.” The
second letter, same date, states that the “Ngiri
society in Oku” was an illegal organisation force-
fully introduced into Oku from Nso’. It had been
banned on 18th March 1972 by the administration
in Kumbo and the ban had never been lifted. The
Ngiri society had brought a lot of confusion and
problems to Oku and was challenging and provok-
ing the recognised traditional authorities - Fon
and kwifon. On 19th July 1989, the D.O. wrote
back to the Fon asking him which one of the
two letters was authentic. In reply the Fon “stated
categorically” that he stands by the first letter
and wishes to withdraw the second letter “which
sounds very dirty.” He promised to find out who
wrote it “because the writer might have deceived
me by presenting a different subject matter.” We
were unable to find out who was behind the plot
but suspicion points to one particular person. One
wonders whether this kind of intrigue was just an
isolated incident or whether it did not happen more
often.
4 The “New Look” of the Princes’ Society
(rjgele) in Oku
After D.O. Oben had given the go-ahead to the
princes to reoccupy their headquarters in kechiale,
the princes’ society in Oku received a great boost
and improved its image amongst the members of
the royal family (Mbele) and the Oku population as
a whole. The “radical” r/gele was finally integrated
into Oku tradition. Many members of the royal
family, who were vehemently opposed to r/gele
before, now became ardent supporters. Its mem-
bership increased vastly, although still very few
princes (ghon ntok) participate in r/gele activities.
It is difficult to say why this should be so. One
reason could be that, being “eligibles” (i.e., liable
to become future Fons), they do not want to spoil
their chances in the eyes of kwifon and palace
officials.
Now that the road was free, the r/gele society
wasted no time in catching up with r/giri Nso’.
Shey Alfred Ngwiy, the son of Faay Chung of
Keyon, an ardent supporter of r/gele throughout
its struggle against Fon and kwifon, was very
instrumental in implementing the “new look” of
r/gele in Oku: “I have gone to all the r/giris in
Bui Division and seen how things are done there.
As a result I am able to advise members on the
right order of things in r/gele. As Shiey, I am one
of those charged with the implementation of the
laws.”
But r/gele still had no masks. The first r/gele
activities in Oku were carried out with masks
and costumes borrowed from r/giri Nso’. Being a
carver, Shey Alfred Ngwiy took it on himself to
carve the r/giri masks he had seen in Nso’. He did
not just copy them: “When I started to carve masks
for r/gele, I adapted those of r/giri Nso ’ to suit my
own imagination. As a carver I tried to differentiate
them in structure and look, both of mask and
gown. I saw the masks in Nso’ but when I was
carving the design for Oku I always introduced
little changes to differentiate.” Shey Alfred carved
five r/gele masks within a short time. He received
no payment. Instead he was given the prestigious
r/gele title Shiey (Koloss 2000: 269).
In what follows, we first discuss the organisa-
tion of the r/gele society as it functions today. Then
we will describe the new masquerades adapted
from r/giri Nso’.
4.1 The Organisation of the “New” qgele
The r/gele society is open to all princes, and all
males of the Mbele clan (royal family) irrespective
of generation, and to sons of princesses married
into Mbulum or objop clans. In the past, immi-
grants to Oku from other chiefdoms like the Nkern
family were given Mbele status and thus qualified
to become members of r/gele. r/gele members who
later are recruited into kwifon can continue to go
there. Such members who double as members of
kwifon and r/gele are called “people of two roads”
(,ghel jiise se baa). The Fon will only send nchiyse
ndaa (kwifon members) who are ghel jiise se bad
to r/gele. Palace retainers (nchiyse ntok) who “see”
kwifon with a new Fon are such ghel jiise se
baa. Unlike kwifon, where people are recruited to
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
69
become members, men of Mbele status enter rjgele
by right.
The rjgele society consists of different sec-
tions or “houses.” Newcomers must be initiated
to become members of ijgele {rjgarj rjgele). The
minimum age is about ten years. Newcomers first
enter rjgay (assembly hall) which is the “house”
°f rjgele dbjim (general rjgele).29 “General rjgele”
incorporates three masquerades, viz., mahu rjgele
(also called kwala), nokarj, and shiorj. These mas-
querades seemingly have no levels or grades. New-
comers are asked to bring one calabash of wine
and firewood. If a member dies without having
Provided wine, no rjgele masquerade will attend or
Participate in his funeral, while in rjgay the neo-
Phytes are under scrutiny from senior members,
^hen a newcomer has fulfilled his duties to rjgay,
be can now choose to enter any “house” he likes.
This depends on his character (nchiinen, ndee) and
bis financial strength. What usually happens is
that the neophyte indicates his desire as to which
bouse” he wants to enter before the leaders of that
Section will decide. Suitability is not determined
by fenyak (divination). Each “house” has its laws
and its leaders. If he has been accepted, he has
to fulfil the conditions laid down. There seems
to be one exception. To enter the house of wan
niabu is not up to the individual to decide but one
bus to be selected. Each section or “house” has
different levels or grades.30 Candidates who enter a
bouse” or section start giving ntarj. For example,
bte ntarj for the first level of wan mabu is two
f°wls, one pot of wine (i.e., two calabashes), and
a tray of fufu (eydirj keban). When the candidate
b^ completed these payments, he may wear the
^an mabu costume.
One can detect a certain hierarchy among the
different sections. The lowest level is rjgay with
be three masquerades kwala, nokarj, and shiorj.
piext up the ladder are the “big masks” - Nchiyke-
Shimandze, Morifem, and Momum. They are
°f the same importance although each of them has
a separate lodge. Moo Ntok, the section where the
°n would sit if eventually he enters rjgele, seems
J? have a special status. Then there is wan mabu.
oe highest level is that of ndaa norjgele, also
CaHed ndaa rjgarjse (house of initiates).
The group that determines the policy in rjgele
called the “the seven men” (wel we saamba). In
According to Faay Ndishangong, “wealthy individuals” go
straight into ndaa norjgele, the highest section.
0 Koloss (2000; 271-276) gives the different levels of each
°f the rjgele masquerades and what payments have to be
given.
reality there are more than seven. “The seven men”
are members of the Big House {ndaa eyghaken)
which incorporates no rjgele.31 When a member
dies he is replaced by any suitable candidate. The
position is not hereditary.
How can one distinguish between what consti-
tutes the particular rights of the Mbele in general
and what is special to rjgele. It is the right of
the members of the Mbele clan to wear clothes
made of kenlarjlarj (Bikom cloth). They may dis-
play spider symbols (rjgam), double bells and
human figures on stools, doorposts, central sup-
porting poles (obkfos) or house supporting poles
(dbtok). They have the right to build a roof over
the entrance (kenchorj) to their compound. Mbele
can also be distinguished by their walking sticks
(,kediorj) which have special designs carved onto
them. All of the above apply also to members of
rjgele since they are all of Mbele descent. So by
what kind of special features can one recognise
them? First of all, they can be distinguished by
their titles (eyghel). There are several of them.
The most common one is Shiey. Here one has to
distinguish Shiey ntarj from Shiey kebam. After
providing wine in all the houses, one has to make
special provisions to rjgele so as to become a
Shiey ntarj. Shiey kebam is one who has been
initiated into the highest level of rjgele, i.e., no
rjgele. Another title one finds is Ta-rjgele.32 He is
the leader of a lodge or “house.” The leader of the
first “house” has the title Ta-rjgay.
Other distinguishing features are the follow-
ing:
- obbom rjgele {rjgele cup): The drinking cups
are calabash cups or cups carved out of wood
with different markings for the different houses
and even for the different levels of initiation into
these houses. What is special are the symbols and
marks incised or branded on the cups which may
be arrows, shields, or rings, etc. Just by looking
at a cup an initiated member knows at once to
which house the owner of the cup belongs and
which level he has already attained.33 The cups are
linked to the protective and curative “medicine”
of the different houses. Let us take the wan mabu
section as an example. The first grade is called In
ndaa (enter house). When a person has paid two
fowls, two calabashes of wine, and fufu he may
31 According to one source they are Faay Ndishangong of
Mbejiaame, Faay Ndintonen, Shey Fonntameh, Nforme
Yonka Simon Babey, Shey Alfred Ngwiy, Shey Tom
Nsaichia, Tantoh Emmanuel, and Shey Mawoh.
32 Ta in Lamnso’ means “father of.”
33 This knowledge is not secret, but few non-rjgele would
know the difference.
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
70
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
now wear the mask. The second grade is called
ntarj dbbom (payment, cup). When the candidate
has paid two fowls, a calabash of wine, and fufu
he is allowed to own and drink from a special
cup decorated with black rings. The third grade
is called ntarj kefu (payment, medicine). There
are not many members who can easily afford this
grade which is also called mabu we ghel buumok
(nine member mabu). After completing payment
of five goats, three cocks, five pots of wine, and
five trays of fufu the candidate is incised with
protective “medicine” against spear injuries. His
drinking cup which as regards shape is very similar
to the one in grade two. In addition to black rings
it has also arrows facing in the opposite direction
symbolising spears. The fourth grade is called wan
mabu we saamba ghel (seven member mabu) for
which the candidate has to provide two goats, one
cock, and six calabashes of wine and a crate of
beer (for those members who do not drink palm
wine). Having completed this stage the person is
given a medicine bag for his own use. Again,
special symbols, in this case a shield pierced by
a spear, are incised onto his drinking cup. It is
not surprising that members of rjgele lay such
strong emphasis on “medicine.” They claim that it
was their “medicine” which helped them through
all the trouble and animosity they faced from
different quarters of the Oku society and the
administration.
- Kebam r/gele (r/gele bag): members who are
initiated into no r/gele, the highest section of the
princes’ society, are given a special bag. The
bag is made of white raffia fibres with stylized
human effigies in black stitched into the side
facing outwards. These people are known as Shiey
kebam.
- Kefol r/gele {r/gele cap): these are of two kinds,
viz. kesarjsarj and rjaa r/gele. Kesarjsarj are knitted
caps with black and white stripes and are worn by
those who have obtained their kebam r/gele (r/gele
bags), i.e., rjgarjse r/gele. rjaa r/gele are worn
by Sheys and members of no r/gele. These caps
also have black and white stripes. Their special
feature is that they have studs around the top.
It is forbidden to wear these caps in bars (off-
licenses). Members caught inside a bar wearing
these caps have to pay a fine. This prohibition does
not apply to ndaa eykuo (death houses) or manjorj
houses.
- obkuu 9 r/gele (cutlass sheath): such cutlass
sheaths are given to members of r/gele as mbuk-
maa. When the rjgele compound (kebey rjgele)
was under construction those who supported the
project in an exceptional way were rewarded (buk)
in several ways. Some were given the title Shiey,
others a rjgele cap {kefol rjgele) or a rjgele cup
{dbbom rjgele), and others again a cutlass sheath
{dbkuu 9 rjgele).
In rjgele a son succeeds a father only as far as
kebam 9 rjgele is concerned. When a member who
has a bag dies, the bag is reactivated {lumse) and
given to the eldest son but only if he has interest
in rjgele or is a member of r/gele already.
Finally a word about women and rjgele. Women
connected to rjgele are all female members of
Mbele and daughters of Mbele mothers or of
princesses married into other clans. According to
Shey Alfred Ngwiy such women play a vital role
in rjgele but they do not enter the rjgele premises.
They have a place at the palace called ndaafonlon
(also called ndaa Shieyse)34 where they meet.
Like their male counterparts they meet on dbkwey.
When r/gele has news for the women, messengers
are sent to ndaa fonion. At death celebrations at
the palace, the women prepare food for the men
while the men provide meat for the women and
their own share of the food.
4.2 The New rjgele Masquerades
As stated above, before the advent of r/gele in Oku
the masquerades of the Fon and the royal family
{dmnkum mo ntok) were kept either in kechiale
(the princes’ quarter), in the Fon’s section of the
palace, or in the kwifon compound, or in individual
compounds. This arrangement continues right up
to the present. However, according to some rjgele
informants all dmnkum mo ntok came under its um-
brella. The masquerades in the rjgele section of the
palace are still distinguished as being dmnkum md
ntok or royal masquerades but now all “belong to
^gele’' and are controlled by the princes’ society.
Notwithstanding the opposition to rjgele by some
influential members of the royal family (Mbele),
rjgele is now widely identified with Mbele; “rjgele
belongs to Mbele and rjgele is Mbele” (Shey
Alfred Ngwiy).
It is significant that at palace celebrations all
the royal masquerades and those of rjgele emerge
from kechiale, the r/gele compound {kebcy r/gele),
even if their paraphernalia are kept elsewhere (e.g-,
laabe, nsum, and sekse). In the latter case the
masks and costumes are taken to kechiale where
the maskers dress before moving up to the dancing
field {dbwey ntok) in the Upper Palace.
34 Shiey is also the title for female members of rjgele.
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
71
There are ten rjgele masquerades,35 including
shior/. All of them are more or less imitations
°f Vgiri Nso(1) Shiorj, (2) Mabu rjgele or
Nwala, (3), Nokarj, (4) Wan mabu, (5) Momum,
(6) Morifem, (7) Nchiykebak, (8) Shimandze, (9)
Moo Ntok, and (10) No rjgele. All the masquer-
ades of rjgele are single masks. Except for no
bgele, none wears ankle rattles. The “big masks”
Momum, Morifem, Nchiykebak, Shimandze, Moo
Ntok, and No rjgele wear wooden masks, brightly
Painted with glossy oil paint, an innovation which
does not go down well with some Oku tradition-
alists.
^•2.1 Shior/
have already described this masquerade (see
above). Instead of the two shiorjse which existed
UP to the beginning of the 1970s there are now
Sl*, the reason being that more “big masks” have
to be accompanied. The main role of the shiorjse
Is to run ahead and forewarn onlookers of the
Eminent arrival of the “big masks” during their
aPpearances at death celebrations and to coerce
People to stoop or crouch down in reverence to the
^asks. Occasionally they are also used to convene
^embers of rjgele when an urgent meeting is
CaHed for.
4-2.2, Mabu rjgele
Mabu rjgele, also called kwala (shigwala in Nso’)
a masquerade which strongly resembles mabu
jf’tfon in appearance and function and is the
running juju” of rjgele. It wears a black flat
^°°den mask with anthropomorphic features at
e top of the head and a voluminous gown thickly
covered with dark hen feathers. It is said to have
en made in Nso’. It carries three spears and
short club-like stick which it frequently, and
angerously, throws ahead of it. It is followed
°sely by a crowd of shouting boys who all crouch
InWn as soon as it turns and approaches them,
one significant way it is different from mabu
Von: it does not whistle. It appears at funerals
death celebrations of members of rjgele and at
ace celebrations for a No Ntok, Ba Ntok, or a
°n- In the latter case, when mabu kwifon comes
35 For o .4 •
2-, a description of rjgele masks see Koloss (2000: 271 —
, '• The descriptions are accompanied by beautiful il-
jOstrations. Argenti (1996: 374-378) also describes r/gele
asks, but mentions only 5 of them.
Anth
r«pos 101.2006
to obwey ntok to start a palace celebration, mabu
rjgele follows immediately.
4.2.3 Nokarj (jester)
rjgele has only one single nokarj unlike kwifon
where there are usually more than twenty. Nokarj
rjgele has an impressive outfit: his face, legs, and
arms are thickly coated with kaolin. He wears a
hood sparsely applied with scruffy looking white
feathers pointing in all directions. A large banana
leaf, with a split down the middle just big enough
for his head to pass through, covers the shoulders
and the upper part of the body. He wears breeches
made of rags and other pieces of tattered cloth are
tied to his waist with bits of string or vines. In his
left hand he holds a large, rough looking calabash
drinking cup to which bits of straw and feathers
are tied. In his left hand he has a long raffia
pole; the top of which is fringed out. Nokarj rjgele
speaks in a falsetto voice, the language is said to
be that of Kom. One of the youths accompanying
him interprets what he says. He demands small
gifts from petty traders and market women who
sell their wares along the road to the Palace and
these he puts into a large basket suspended from
a pole and carried by two boys. The boys help
themselves to bananas and other things from the
basket when nokarj is not looking and for this they
are constantly beaten by nokarj. In order to prevent
them thieving, nokarj sometimes makes the two
boys who carry the basket stand back to back so
that they cannot see the basket.
4.2.4 Wan mabu (child of mabu)
This masquerade symbolizes the “new” rjgele.
The masker wears a tightly fitting one-piece suit
covered sparsely with white feathers and small
round patches of red cloth. Only his hands and
feet, coated with kaolin, are visible. Since the
persons wearing the suit may be of different
sizes, wan mabu has several suits of different
sizes. The various colours and/or designs have
nothing to do with the deceased person’s rank
in the lodge. Wan mabu carries three spears, a
club and a shield painted with white lines and
circles. The head is covered in a wig of thick
strands of artificial, long, unkempt, bushy hair,
some feathers, and a cowtail. The mouth protrudes
in a snout-like extension which ends in a bright
red circle. Wan mabu “is known for its wild
antics and violent displays when it comes out”
72
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
(Argenti 1996: 376). It is a huge attraction and
considered great fun when it appears. It does not
inspire fear. Wan mabu is accompanied by two
or three shior/se and a number of bare-chested
young men wearing loincloths. They have stripes
of red camwood or white kaolin painted on their
chest or back “in patterns according to their levels
in the ranking system of the acolytes of wan
mabu” (Argenti 1996: 376). Two of them hold
a rope between them which they use to control
the unpredictable and sudden movements of wan
mabu, usually with little success. Another holds
a large calabash cup in his hand filled with palm
wine. Every now and then he takes a sip from the
cup and sprays a fine mist in the direction of the
masker.
4.2.5 Momum
Momum is a Janus-faced mask. Shey Alfred Ngwiy
who carved the mask gives the following explana-
tion: “Mo means Prince and mum is the Oku name
for Bamum. So Momum means Prince of Bamum
... In Bamum there is a picture of a snake with
two heads. So the idea to give the mask two faces
was taken from there. The mask has two faces
like the Bamum snake.” What is implied here is
a relationship with ngurri, the princes’ society in
Bamum. The top of the mask is a crown formed by
four child figures holding hands. Another charac-
teristic of this masquerade is that it wears a gown
and trousers thickly covered with porcupine quills
and red feathers. It has a walking stick (kedior/)
and a ceremonial cutlass. When it comes out, it
is accompanied by two or three shior/se and about
ten men in loincloths wearing necklaces and rjgele
caps (kefol r/gele) and wielding cutlasses in their
right hands. Pressing the end of the sheaths against
their waist they hold the top part pointing away
from their body, with the straps loosely hanging
over the left shoulder. Momum moves in small
graceful steps sometimes turning to clash its cut-
lass against those of its followers.
4.2.6 Morifem
The name of this mask means “Prince of Rifem,”
Rifem being the place where Nso’ and Oku dy-
nasties settled after their departure from “Tikari”
(i.e., Kimi, present-day Bankim) and from where
Oku later left to settle at its present location. As
Momum indicates the relationship of Oku with
Bamum, Morifem reflects their relationship with
Nso’. The white-faced mask is depicted wearing
a flat fooche cap (fooche tete). It wears a dark
gown with trousers which are decorated with white
buttons and cowries. Strands of wool are attached
to the sleeves and bottoms of the trouser legs
and also around the neck. As with the other “big
masks,” two or three shior/se and a good number
of members of this house accompany the mask.36
4.2.7 Nchiykebak
Nchiykebak literally means “guardian of the um-
brella.” There is no obvious connection between
the mask and its name in Oku. The confusion aris-
es from the Lamnso’ name of this mask which has
been assimilated into the Oku language without
regard to the meaning of the word. The name of
the mask in Lamnso’ is nshiykiba’ “which is short
for nshiylav ye kiba’. This refers to a page who
has actually served in the palace. The message
is this; not only you, r/weror/, serve and guard
the Eon. We also do” (Mzeka 1980: 109). We
see here more than a hint of defiance and arro-
gance of the Nso’ princes against r/werong. But
there is no suggestion that this is also the case in
Oku.
The mask portrays a “big man” with a fooche
cap. The face in bright red colour exhibits huge
staring eyes with bushy eyebrows and a gaping
mouth showing the upper row of teeth. A short
scruffy looking beard is attached to the lower part
of the face. The masker wears the mask right down
over his face so that he can see through the open
mouth rather than under the mask as is usually the
case. Nchiykebak wears a red gown and trousers
decorated with large triangles of coloured buttons
which are red, white, blue, yellow, black, green,
and transparent. Red feathers are attached to the
end of its sleeves. As behoves a “big man” of
the status of a Mbele Faay, Nchiykebak carries a
kedioi) (walking stick) with a carved human head-
In his left hand he wields a ceremonial cutlass. The
support group are r/gele members of this particular
section and two or three shior/se.
36 On 1st February 2005, at a death celebration for Faay Njobe
(Mbele, d. 1994), a man from Oku who had settled in Buh
(Nso’) and died there, a new Morifem mask was displayed-
In design the new mask is similar to the old one except
for its colour which is a dark chestnut brown applied to
the whole mask. It is interesting to note that at the said
death celebration two new masks made their appearance,
the second one being that of no ijgele (see below). There
seems to be a constant “updating” and improvement taking
place.
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
73
4-2.8 Shimandze
^himandze: mandze is Lamnso’ (Nso’ language)
and means courtyard. It is the owner of the
compound - ntete bey (Shey Alfred Ngwiy). The
mask is quite unlike its Nso’ counterpart which has
anthropomorphic features. The Oku mask depicts a
rarn with long curved horns, its tongue protruding
through its open mouth. The masker wears a gown
and trousers made of dark cloth and decorated with
lines and patterns of small crosses of cowry shells.
In his right hand he wields a cutlass. He walks in
brisk steps, raising his knee high at every step.
He never stands still except when he clashes his
cntlass with one of the support group.
4-2.9 Moo Ntok (Prince of the Palace)
This is the section where the Fon would sit if he
eventually decided to enter r/gele. The mask is
that of a human head with wide-open eyes. The
m°uth is open and shows the upper and lower
r°w of teeth. Attached to the chin is a beard of
straight white goat hair. On top of the head there
18 a long conical piece - one can hardly call it
a cap - tapering off towards the top and ending
ln a crown of four child figures looking outward
ar,d holding hands. The masquerade wears a wide
louse of blue and white indigo resist dyed cloth
t*enlar/lar)) with long sleeves and baggy trousers
°f the same material. Around the waist it wears
a wide belt of otter skin. Two garland bands of
, Viliam red cloth, decorated with cowry shells
ln sets of three, cross its chest and back. The
i^asquerade holds a ceremonial cutlass in its right
hand.
4-2.10
No ijgele
5* Vgele (yee r/giri in Lamnso’) means “mother
bgele.” It is the innermost section of the
bgele society and its most prestigious. Some call
the “executive house” of ijgele. In Nso’ this
asquerade (yee r/giri), “which existed only in
■ e Mystical and musical (seven cowrie-decorated
tes) forms now has a displaying juju like that
p memy” (Mzeka 1980; 109). This is the mask
t ay Ndishangong attempted to bring “home”
u° ^echiale on March 2, 1979, when he was
k tasked and his gown and mask confiscated
the According to Shey Alfred Ngwiy,
hu Carver’ the mask at that time depicted a
rnan head with a fooche cap. The present no
Anth
ropos 101.2006
ijgele mask, which now usually appears at palace
celebrations, is said by some to depict a leopard
(Argenti 1996: 378), but according to its carver,
Shey Alfred Ngwiy, it represents a lion. The mask
shows a fierce looking animal head with a gnarling
snout, huge fangs, and a protruding tongue. It
ends in a bushy mane which is a clear indication
that it is a lion. Others liken it to the head of a
monkey (baboon?). The mask is brightly painted
with glossy oil paint. It is interesting to note
that at present there are three no r/gele masks,
viz. a fooche mask, a lion head, and an elephant
head.37
No r/gele wears a long wide gown of kenlar/lar/
(Bikom cloth) with a line of cowries down the
front. It is the only r/gele mask that wears ankle
rattles. In his right hand he has a long raffia staff.
The top of the staff has two short rows of bamboo
plates like “wings” and is topped by a feather.
Five cowries are inserted into the staff between the
wings on each side. In Nso’ and Mbesa (formerly
known as Mbesenaku), a small chiefdom to the
west of Oku, such bamboo poles have the function
of a kelar/ (injunction stick). This is not the case
in Oku where this kind of raffia staff may only be
used by no ijgele.
The no r/gele lodge has six grades. Its members
are mainly titled Mbele family heads. Payment
of two calabashes of wine, a crate of beer, and
5,000 CFA allows one to wear shoes inside the
house. The second grade concerns the r/gele bag
(kebam r/gele). After payment of a goat, two cocks,
and two calabashes of palm wine the candidate
is allowed to own and carry the r/gele bag. On
payment of one fowl, a calabash of wine, and a
tray of fufu one enters the third grade (tar) keghen)
which concerns the medicine calabash. The next
grade (tar/ no r/gele) makes one a full member of
no ijgele. The payment is heavy: five goats, ten
calabashes of wine, one crate of beer, and 20,000
CFA. The fifth grade admits a member to the
“night juju” with its special instruments of a fric-
tion drum, two bull-roarers, and five pipes.38 The
final grade called “warming the pepper of r/gele”
37 At the death celebration in Buh (Nso’), mentioned in
footnote 36, a new no r/gele mask made its appearance,
depicting a human face and wearing a fooche cap. It is
covered with white, black, and red beadwork. The mask
was carved by Shey Alfred Ngwiy and the beadwork was
applied in Fumban. It is interesting to note that the new
no r/gele mask did not make its first appearance at the
Oku Palace, a practice which is demanded of all other new
masquerades.
38 In Nso’ the instruments of yee r/giri include seven cowrie-
decorated flutes, two drones, a pedestal drum, and other
percussive instruments (Mzeka 1980: 112).
74
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
is said to involve 15 goats, 50 calabashes of wine,
and 50 trays of fufu.
The appearance of no r/gele differs from the
other “big masks” we described so far. At palace
celebrations no r/gele comes out of kechiale in a
solemn procession. It emerges from the r/gele com-
pound and moves up through Tamfu’s compound
to the motor road coming down from the market.
It follows the road alongside the kwifon compound
and continues down to the mfu house. Opposite the
mfu house it enters the palace courtyard {dbwey
ntok) and moves to the front of the veranda where
the Fon usually appears to offer a fowl or wine
to the kwifon or royal masquerades. When no
r/gele passes the veranda the Fon is always con-
spicuously absent. The procession moves back to
the palace courtyard, crosses, and goes down to
kechiale. The procession consists of more than
thirty members of the no r/gele “house,” wearing
loincloths of kenlar/lar/, r/gele caps (kefol r/gele or
r/aa r/gele), and bead necklaces. They hold long
bamboo poles in their right hands and r/gele bags
over their left shoulders. They move very slowly
taking long steps, stopping after each step, and
shouting out praise names or making provocative
statements. One of the praise names (omnkfvom)
given to no r/gele is bvoldk (lion),39 king of ani-
mals, a praise name usually reserved for the Fon. It
is also called lum nyam (husband, animal) meaning
“great animal.” Some of the names are shouted out
in Lamnso’.40 Some of the participants talk of their
plight and how they have suffered before being
initiated into no r/gele. One person might say that
he had a herd of cattle but used all of the cows to
pay his way into no r/gele. This is mainly done to
show off (kewel).
The procession is led by a man beating a
double bell. He is followed by two senior r/gar/se
r/gele, one holding a kedior/ (walking stick) and
the other a bamboo pole. The fourth in line is
the no r/gele mask followed by a shiorj. Every
now and then, the masker steps out of the line
and turns around. At this the procession stops. In
39 This is another indication that the mask represents a
lion.
40 E.g., rjga menlaa (owner of fault). Shey Alfred Ngwiy gave
the following explanation: “If anyone finds fault with it, he
has started menlaa that will never end. It will in return
find fault with the fault-finder. If you fail to show respect
and you are caught, you will never go free, except you
come back to plead for forgiveness; if you choose to show
power, greater power will be shown you in return ... When
we say ijga menlaa we add in the Oku language that we
key Qmlaa e we yen amlaa (if you look for dmlaa you will
see it).”
long measured steps he goes back along the line,
both arms stretched out horizontally and sideways,
until he reaches the end. Behind the last man he
stops and sharply shakes his ankle rattles. Then
he walks to the front along the other side of the
line touching each of the stooping r/gele notables
on the shoulder or head with his left hand. When
he returns to his original position he again sharply
shakes his ankle rattles twice in quick succession.
This is the sign for the procession to move on
again. This sequence is repeated over and over
again until the procession enters kechiale. No
instruments are used other than the double bell.
No r/gele appears at palace death celebrations for
a Fon, No Ntok, and Ba Ntok, but also in private
compounds for death celebrations of members of
no r/gele.
5 rjgele as “Modern Tradition” in Oku
Although r/gele had officially been recognised in
Oku at the meeting with the D.O. of Jakiri, Mr.
Peter Oben, on 18th September 1982, the rela-
tionship between Fon Sends and r/gele remained
cool and uneasy until his death. He never brought
himself to accept ijgele. Also many members of
kwifon, interestingly including members of the
royal family (Mbele), continued their opposition
to r/gele. It is also true that many Mbele are keen
to associate with kwifon rather than r/gele. In fact,
according to Shey Alfred Ngwiy, Mbele form the
majority in kwifon. Some informants attribute this
preference to simple greed: “They want to go
where there is plenty of food to eat.” But there
are others again “who long to join kwifon because
it is there where Oku society is shaped” (toyse ndee
eylak).
The “radical” r/gele masks have also come in
for criticism, especially from traditionalists and
members of kwifon. They are viewed as an adul-
teration of culture. Argenti notes some of the
reasons why people are very much opposed to
the new masks. Firstly, “ygele masquerades are
spoken of as new arrivals by non -r/gele members,
who support their position that the society has
no basis in Oku culture by pointing out how its
masquerades do not obey the traditions of Oku .. •
they come out on the wrong days during palace
celebrations, the attendants to the masquerades
follow them in fay’s clothes and paraphernalia
they are not entitled to, and the masquerades take
liberties, such as stepping onto the palace ve-
randa during their performances, something only
mabu, the most powerful and feared masquerade
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
75
°f kwifon is supposed to do”41 (Argenti 1996: 236).
Secondly, the r/gele masquerades are breaking “the
secret rule that masks must never be coloured
(apart from the minimal application of red cam-
wood on the mouth and ears and white kaolin
111 the eye sockets)” (238). Innovations like using
glossy oil paint to paint masks in brilliant colours
are for many Oku people unacceptable. Thirdly,
the “big masks” Morifem, Momum, Shimandze,
^chiykebak, and Moo Ntok appear in trousers.
Could this be one of the reasons why many people
detest them? Trousers are not part of the outfit of
Cku traditional masquerades. There are only two
traditional maskers - kediar/sen and kekum o yio
(masquerade snake) - that wear suits, which cover
them completely with no skin showing, unlike wan
lnabu who wears a tight suit but with his hands and
feet showing although heavily coated with kaolin.
Fourthly, the r/gele society blatantly flouts royal
Prerogatives like the use of porcupine quills and
cowry shells. The gown and trousers of Momum,
f°r example, are thickly covered with porcupine
9uills. Another criticism reported by Argenti is
fact that the support group of mabu r/gele are
young boys. This could be interpreted as a “rub-
ashing” of the kwifon mabu whose followers are
always senior nchiyse ndaa (members of kwifon)
and palace retainers (nchiyse ntok). However, these
Criticisms are no longer widespread. Some of the
^oticisms are simply based on misunderstandings
y Oku traditionalists. The attendants of the “great
masks,” for example, do not wear “fay’s clothes.”
p ey may be similar to the traditional attire of a
aay but they are not the same. They wear r/gele
caps42; since they are members of the royal family
** are allowed to wear loincloths of kenlar/lar/
ikom cloth); their cutlass sheaths are those
sPecially made for the r/gele society (obkuu o
bgele), etc.
It has to be said that with time the situation
as improved greatly. Both societies, kwifon and
go on with their business as usual and when
ere is a celebration in the palace both participate
uvely. Kwifon has seen that the existence of
V§ele does not cause any threat. It seems that
statement is incorrect. Not only mabu but also r/kok
ywvifon masquerade) and r/kiy (royal masquerade) step onto
42 -, ® Veranda to receive a fowl from the Fon.
, design of these r/gele caps is very similar to that of
don caps, so much so that for most of the people they
appear the same. Yet there are subtle differences which
lshnguish them. The issue of the r/gele caps was another
(ause of friction between kwifon and r/gele. Kwifon wanted
1 confiscate their caps but r/gele members stood their
ground.
Anthropos 101.2006
many young princes and members of Mbele find
the “new” r/gele attractive, especially the beauty
of its masquerades. Far from being put off by
the colourful new masks of r/gele, they love them
as they love r/gele in general because of its
more modern outlook (unlike the “conservative”
kwifon). Mbele youths, especially those financially
better off, see in r/gele a chance to climb the social
ladder. It is interesting to note the high proportion
of educated men in the ranks of r/gele. Kwifon
recruits its members thus limiting access. There is
no restriction for princes and members of Mbele
to enter r/gele.
Many people see things now in a positive and
much more optimistic way. Faay Ndishangong
maintains that although the Fon does not partic-
ipate in r/gele activities he is on good terms with
r/gele. Another leading member of r/gele, Faay
Ndintonen, is of the opinion that “even if the Fon
is not cooperating with r/gele, it is only a matter of
time. At times he invites the six leading members
of r/gele to the palace to appreciate their activities
and claims that when he hears their music he rests
assured that whatever enemy comes into Oku, he
has nothing to fear.”
Similar claims are made as regards the rela-
tionship between kwifon and r/gele. Shey Alfred
Ngwiy, the master carver of the new r/gele mas-
querades, says that at present both r/gele and
kwifon are on good terms. According to him, r/gele
does not compete and never has competed with
kwifon for power. What is clear in the minds of
all Oku people is that kwifon is “first.” And in the
words of Faay Wantong of Lui, “all Oku people
belong to kwifom, r/gele is only for a group of
people, the Mbele.”
Some senior members of kwifon also try to play
down the acrimony that existed between kwifon
and r/gele in the past. “Kwifon did not, at any time,
take a stand on this issue of r/gele, although the
Mbele believe that it was kwifon rejecting them.
Each time the matter was taken up to kwifon,
kwifon always directed them to go back to their
‘father,’ the Fon” (Faay Manko). Faay Mentan
maintains that “it was only the Fon who hated
r/gele and not directly kwifon. If kwifon showed
signs of dissatisfaction, it was only in an attempt
to sympathise with the Fon. If kwifon had hated
r/gele as such, it would not have survived.”
So what about the present Fon himself? What
is his relationship with r/gelel According to Faay
Kerning, “it is difficult for the present Fon to
give r/gele the official go-ahead because of his
predecessors’ objections. What he seems to have
achieved is that disputes are no longer there
76
Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah
and the enmity between r/gele and non-ijgele,
especially nchiyse ndaa, has ended though this
was not something of his making. It just happened
to have come about during his reign.” For late
Pa Tantoh Mbungwa, both a member of kwifon
and r/gele, the problem goes deeper. He said that
“the wrongs committed in the past by the Princes
needed to be finished in a keman (a reconciliation
sacrifice). But Fon Sentie did not bring himself to
do it and the present Fon has not done so either.”
In an interview granted to us on 28th October
2004, Fon Ngum III said: “The present relationship
between myself and r/gele, I would say, is quite
cordial. It is cordial because of the way I have
handled it. I have taken my understanding from
culture and from both the traditional beliefs and
positions of the people of Oku and applied it to the
issue.” The Fon tried to make light of his support
for ijgele before becoming Fon. “People accused
me of being part of it ... [In 1971, during the
death celebration of No Ntok Nenembang] I was
accused of being a member of ijgele. Some people
denounced me to the Fon that I was one of them,
but I cleared it with the Fon.” Yet it is quite clear
that Fon Ngum III, when still a prince, was on
the side of r/gele and tried to mediate between
Fon Sentie and ijgele. “He wrote to Fon Sentie
telling him that he, Sentie, cannot exist without his
‘children.’ When he became Fon in 1992, he took
out the letter from the Fon’s files and showed it to
elderly Mbele to reiterate his position in support
of their cause” (Faay Ndintonen). Samuel Sakse,
as Fon Ngum III was called before becoming Fon,
also tried to mediate between the administration
and ijgele. He made great efforts “to bring some
understanding between the group (r/gele) and the
Government, but failed.” While the four leaders of
ijgele were in Bamenda waiting for their appeal to
be heard in the High Court, it was Samuel Sakse
who fed and looked after them.
After the death of Fon Sentie (26th April 1992),
Samuel Sakse was put on the throne. “The first
few weeks as Fon, I got warnings from left and
right about the r/gele society and that, if I was not
careful with them, if I ventured into that society, I
would die ... But then I thought to myself that
in Oku the position of all Oku people is that
people and institutions have always been in two
hands - kwifon and Fon. Since all of them belong
to the Fon and kwifon, why should I make ijgele
an exception? All the jujus all over Oku are those
of the Fon. Since the people and things belong
to the Fon and kwifon, r/gele can just be one of
them ... [Although] they are to me like all other
institutions in the entire Fondom, they are special
to me because their membership is drawn from the
royal family. Because of this [family] relationship,
I always see myself as part of it, but without prac-
tising. I have never been to any of their ‘houses’;
I know nothing about the inner organisation of the
institution. I know just what I see from the outside
... I have talked to the family members and have
told them that I have no objection whatsoever to
their operations, except they are contrary to the
laws of Cameroon. If they create any problem in
public, it will be their responsibility. I will let them
be picked up, because I cannot start negotiating
with people who are doing things which are unac-
ceptable ... So that is just how it is. I am prepared
to protect them from morning to evening. I would
not like to see them harassed by anybody what-
soever. I gave them ‘water’ and I have told them,
“whatever you have, eat. If you have five goats, eat
them. Bring nothing to the palace.43 Just that and
nothing more. If you bring nothing to the palace,
I am OK.”
The Fon is well aware that he has a dual
relationship with r/gele: firstly, his relationship
with r/gele as a princely society and, secondly,
his family relationship to them as a father to his
sons. This second relationship is more important
to him. But he also realises the value of having
the ijgele society at his disposal: “... it is very
instrumental; if you want to have a population to
talk to or to carry out any function, you just inform
them. Wan mabu and others will come out and
within a few hours you’ll have the population you
need.”
Talking to the Fon one could notice straight-
away that he likes the r/gele society. “Honestly, I
like it. I have no problem with it whatsoever.”
He does not see the ijgele masquerades as an
adulteration of Oku culture. On the contrary, he
thinks that these masquerades are a “successful
marriage between tradition and modernity.” But he
also knows that he cannot be as free as he would
like to be with the r/gele society. The legacy left
to him by his father, Fon Ngum II, and his uncle,
Fon Sentie, do not allow him a free hand yet. “I
am resting on the warnings that had forbidden me
from having anything to do with ijgele ... Since
our fathers left this legacy it is not easy for me
to cross over. If I can philosophise sufficiently
43 What the Fon seems to imply here is that he cannot
accept any gift from r/gele when they go out for a death
celebration. When a royal masquerade, like chiaamfa’
laabe, or fenjii, goes to celebrate the death of a member of
the Mbele clan part of the ntal (entertainment fee) is given
to the Fon.
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
77
and build up a solid ground under my feet to be
able to stand well, I will be in a better position to
defend myself. By understanding the whole issue
better, I hope that enmity can be cleared. I can
even become totally part of the institution. That
is something I have to study. For now they have
their rights to go where they want to go, take their
goats and eat, but they must not disturb public
Peace.”
The Fon is open-minded as regards the future.
We even envisages the possibility of joining r/gele.
I know that if a day were to come when I would
be in that ‘house’ down at kechiale, the drumming
^ould bring the sky down. But it needs to be
slowly.” As for now, he does not visit the r/gele
c°mpound except when he goes there for a matter
concerning r/kiy, the palace masquerade. He still
has not given his blessing to r/gele (mak moo se
klgele) as he does for all other masquerades. The
bon still does not give a fowl or palm wine to any
°f the new i/gele masquerades when they appear at
dh\vey ntok during palace celebrations as he does
[° kwifon or palace masquerades. In fact, so far he
has not given and still does not give anything to
V8ele at all.44
However, r/gele has finally become integrated
into Oku tradition. Some people draw a parallel
Wlth the introduction of the manjor/. Manjor) was
hot original to Oku either. “Manjor) came to Oku
during the reign of Fon Ngek (1909-1940). It was
^nsidered ‘treason’ because it came from Nso’.
l^ifon did not accept it until after a long struggle.
n°w there are two or three manjor] houses in
every village!” (Seh Peter Kerning, 2nd September
b04). Kwifon was as vehemently opposed to
manjor/ as it was to r/gele. With time, manjorj came
0 be accepted and integrated into Oku tradition so
^huch so that it is now called the “right arm” of
**if on!
^ It is interesting to note that Faay Mbuh Yang
aniel the present Member of Parliament of Oku
and Noni, is now once more a member of r/gele.
lnce the present Fon accepted it, I saw that there
p as no problem again as it was during the reign of
°n Sentic. Now I am a member of r/gele because
44 Tu-
*nis statement has to be modified in the light of what
aPpened at the last palace celebration in March 2005 in
Memory of No Ntok Zuelam. We have it from reliable
sources that the Fon did send palm wine down to kechiale,
, e bgele compound. There are persistent rumours circulat-
es that in future palace celebrations in which r/gele takes
Parf the Fon may give wine and food to the princes’ society
at kechiale, sanctioned by kwifon. Whether he will also give
^owls to wan mabu and the “big masks” when they come
0 ^e palace veranda has to be seen.
Anth;
roPos 101.2006
I was already initiated into it ... I’m planning to
go there and provide wine (naay). In fact, I have
already provided some wine for them when they
stopped in my house on their way from Ichim”
(Faay Mbuh Yang Daniel, 14th October 2004). In
2004, he also donated the sum of 100,000 CFA
to r/gele “for their development” [of the princes’
compound at kechiale].
The “new” r/gele in Oku is one example of
how modern elements can become incorporated
into tradition. Its structures and principles are def-
initely traditional but they have been successfully
combined with modern features to form a valid
synthesis. “As ‘modem tradition’ in Oku r/gele
gives impulses in both directions - tradition and
modernity - and signals more than any other in-
stitution in Oku that the two can be reconciled”
(Krauß 1990: 30; our translation). It is significant
that in the last few years another new masquerade
has been created with masks painted in bright
oil paints. This masquerade which also dances at
palace celebrations has been formed by the “Kilum
Mountain Project” and has many brightly coloured
bird masks. In all other aspects this masquerade is
typical of all Oku masquerades.
We are deeply indebted to Ian Fowler for reading the
final draft of this article and making useful suggestions.
We are also very grateful to him for correcting our
English. His encouragement and keen interest in our
work have been invaluable. We equally want to thank
Sally Chilver who, despite of her near-blindness, has
followed our research with interest and pointed out
interesting material which we were able to incorporate in
our article. However, they are not responsible in any way
for remaining mistakes or possible misrepresentations.
Finally, we thank all our informants for their patience
in answering our questions and for willingly giving us
a lot of their time.
Glossary
Ba Ntok “Father of the Palace”
bei) royal masquerade (“rainy season”)
chiaamfa royal masquerade
syghel (sg.) title, name (pi. teghel)
cyshaa ntok lit. “below the palace”; r/gele head- quarters (= kechiale)
dbbom r/gele r/gele drinking cups
dbchio ntok lit. “mouth of the palace”; sliding door leading into the palace from the palace veranda
78 obkuu dbvii ntok cutlass sheath Fon’s wife Hermann Gufler and Njakoi John Bah eykuo to kwifon. The number may vary but there must be more than two.
kwala
obwey ntok palace courtyard see mabu ggele
obwcy sag old market site which was situated just kwifon palace regulatory society
outside kwifon quarters laabe royal masquerade
ombuak ankle rattles mabu ggele ggele running masquerade
omnduk palm wine mabu kwifon kwifon running masquerade
omnkfvom omnkum praise names masquerade manjog “military” society, also includes mfu and saamba
Mbele
omnkum mo ntok royal masquerade royal lineage or clan
omntiy (pi.) hailstones (sg. fentiy) mbukmaa a prestige item given by the Fon as a gift to someone who normally is not
fembien women’s secret society entitled to it
fenchii satin cloth mfu a section of manjog, considered the “right arm” of kwifon
fenjii royal masquerade Moo Ntok
“Prince of the Palace,” one of the “big
fentiy royal masquerade masks” of ggele
fenyak divination Momum “Prince of Bamum,” one of the “big
foleggag kwifon masquerade masks” of ggele
fooche fooche tete the cap of a “big man” (Mbele Faay), the distinguishing feature are two cir- cular patches covered with studs on either side of the cap Morifem Nchiykebak “Prince of Rifem,” one of the “big masks” of ggele one of the “big masks” of ggele
nchiy ndaa member of the kwifon society
idem; the circular patches are flat and
more to the front nchiy ntok palace retainer
ghon ntok (pi.) princes (sg. wan ntokf, they are sons ndaa gkiy house of gkiy
of a Fon strictly speaking. In general, the term is used much more inclusive. ndos small hand drum accompanying nkiy
Male descendants of a Fon of the sec- ngumba Pidgin English term for the regulatory
ond, third, and even fourth generation society (Bali language?)
and sons of a princess may call them- selves ghon ntok. nokag (kwifon) a kwifon masquerade
kam leader mask nokag (ggele) a ggele masquerade
kebam bag No Ntok “Mother of the Palace,” Fon’s mother
kebey ke saamba the seven “great lords” of the royal clan (Mbele) No ggele lit. “mother of ggele,” most important ggele masquerade
kechiale ggele headquarters at the palace nsum royal masquerade; youth
kechil 0 ngwa type of credit and savings association ntal entertainment fee for the performance of a masquerade
kediorj walking stick of “big men” (Mbele Faays) ntag entrance fee, e.g., to be paid by initi'
ates into a masquerade society
kefol (ggele) ggele cap ntagle sacrifice offered to one’s family an-
keman reconciliation sacrifice cestors to beg for forgiveness for a
kenlaglag royal cloth, “Bikom” cloth wrong committed
kesagsag ggele cap gaa ggele cap
kensoy eykuo a number of nchiyse ndaa, bare to V8ay assembly hall
the waist who bring food from ndaa ggele princes’ society in Oku
Anthropos 101.2006
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku, Cameroon
79
Vgiri princes’ society in Nso’
Bgemse (pi.) double, clapperless bells
Vkiy “running mask” of chiaamfa, a royal masquerade
Pwerotj Nso’ regulatory palace society
s£kse a royal masquerade
Shiey Shey, a r/ge/e title
Shimandze one of the “big masks” of ygele
shiorj r/gele masquerade, the first to be in- troduced in Oku (pi. shiotjse)
mabu lit. “child of mabu”, a rjgele masquer-
ade
References Cited
Ar§enti, Nicolas P. A.
9% The Material Culture of Power in Oku; North West
Province, Cameroon. London. [Ph. D. Thesis in Social
Anthropology, University College London]
^ah, Njakoi John
604 Ntok ebkuo. A Western Grassfields’ Palace (Cameroon).
Anthropos 99: 435-450.
^heni-Langhee, B., Verkijika G. Fanso, and Elizabeth M.
Chilver
1985 Nto’ Nso’ and Its Occupants. Privileged Access and
Internal Organisation in the Old and New Palaces.
Paideuma 31: 151-181.
Chilver, Elizabeth M.
61 The History and Customs of Ntem. Oxford: Oxonian.
93 Who Were the Tikar? Working Notes. [MS privately
circulated]
Chilver, Elizabeth M., and Phyllis M. Kaberry
0' Traditional Bamenda. The Pre-Colonial History and
Ethnography of the Bamenda Grassfields. Buea: Min-
istry of Primary Education and Social Welfare,
West Cameroon Antiquities Commission: Government
Printer.
I9?fy’ Christraud
Things of the Palace. A Catalogue of the Bamum Palace
Museum in Foumban (Cameroon). Wiesbaden: Franz
Steiner Verlag. (Studien zur Kulturkunde, 60)
1997er’ Hermann
' Cults and Seasonal Dances of the Yamba (Cameroon).
2 Anthropos 92: 501 -522.
Affliction and Moral Order. Conversations in Yamba-
land (Cameroon). Canterbury: Centre for Social Anthro-
pology and Computing, University of Kent at Canter-
bury. (CSAC Monographs, 18)
iSeys’ mdw-
The Wiya Tribe. Part One. African Studies 21: 83-104.
2(w'Ss’ Hans-Joachim
World-View and Society in Oku (Cameroon). Berlin.
Verlag von Dietrich Reimer. (Baessler-Archiv, Beiträge
ZUr Ethnologie, Neue Folge Beiheft, 10)
Krauß, Günter
1990 Kefu elak. Traditionelle Medizin in Oku (Kamerun).
Göttingen; Edition RE.
Mzeka, N. Paul
1980 The Core Culture of Nso. Agawam: Jerome Radin.
Ndishangong, Thaddeus Tata
1984 A Historical Study of Self-Reliant Development in
Rural Societies. A Case Study of the Oku Society.
Yaoundé. (Dissertation, University of Yaoundé, Ad-
vanced Teachers’ College [E.N.S.])
Njoya, Idrissou Mborou
1952 Histoire et coutumes des Bamum. Traduction du Pasteur
Henri Martin. Douala: Institut Français d’Afrique Noire.
(Mémoires de 1T.F.A.N., Centre du Cameroun; Séries
Populations, 5)
Paideuma
1985 Palaces and Chiefly Households in the Cameroon Grass-
fields. Paideuma 31.
Price, David
1979 Who Are the Tikar Now? Paideuma 25; 89-98.
Tardits, Claude
1980 Le royaume bamoum. Paris: Librairie Armand Colin.
Interviews
1. Late Pa Tantoh Mbungwa (Mbele) of Keyon, nchiy ndaa
and member of pgele: 16th May 2003.
2. Faay Mentan (Mbulum) of Elak, nchiy ndaa, ca. 75 yrs.:
3rd July 2003.
3. Faay Laa of Ngashie (Mbele), nchiy ndaa, ca. 70 yrs.: 29th
May 2003.
4. Faay Manko of Ngashie (Mbele), nchiy ndaa, ca. 70 yrs.:
15th July 2003; 14th September 2003; 2nd November 2003;
31st August 2004; 21st September 2004.
5. Faay Ndintonen (Mbele), Ba Ntok, one of the leaders of
pgele, ca. 75 yrs.: 1st November 2003.
6. Faay Ndishangong (Culture) of Mbejiaame (Mbele), Ba
Ntok, one of the leaders of pgele, ca. 70 yrs.: 12th
October 2003. Although mentally deranged since the early
1970s, he was still a invaluable informant remembering and
recounting key events in great detail.
7. Faay Nsanen of Mbam-Barten (Mbele), nchiy ndaa, ca. 70
yrs.: 30th December 2003.
8. Faay Kerning of Elak (Mbele), nchiy ndaa, ca. 80 yrs.: 13th
August 2004; 5th October 2004.
9. Nforme Ndula of Kfam (Mbele), ca. 60 yrs.: 5th January
2004.
10. Shey Alfred Ngwiy of Keyon (Mbele), influential leader of
pgele, master carver, ca. 55 yrs.: 19th May 2004; 15th June
2004; 21st November 2004.
Vnth
lroPos 101.2006
Anthropos
101.2006: 81-98
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes
de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
Robert Hazel
bstract. - Age- or generation-set systems were traditionally
Prominent in much of East Africa. Historians used these
''dilutions to reconstruct tribal chronologies. Anthropologists
ave highlighted their central role in integrating loosely knit
^°mmunities, focused on the rules embedded in these systems,
P!cted them as frameworks for gérontocratie rule or as
Prirnarily ritual or religious institutions. The article attempts to
of111011 strate that a cyclical notion of history was a key feature
,, ^ast African age systems, that notion basically referring to
e succession of generations. In the process, structural and
fro°r'Cal connections are established between such systems
m eastern Uganda to northwestern Tanzania, not to mention
Kutrn an^ central Kenya. [East Africa, Kalenjin, Kikuju,
ria> cultural anthropology, age systems, history, generations]
de°pfcr* ^azel, M.A. (1977), Ph.D. (1984) en anthropologie
Université de Montréal. Il est spécialisé en anthropologie
urelle de l’Afrique de l’Est, une région dont il étudie les po-
les d 10ns dePuis lus années 1970. - Il a publié des articles dans
c . revues Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, Cahiers d’Études afri-
c\^es’ Anthropologie et Sociétés, Culture. Cf. aussi Références
es Peuples occidentaux ont depuis longtemps le
fa‘tlrnent faire Partie d’une histoire, voire de
es|re i histoire. Pour l’Occident moderne, l’histoire
parün Processus de transformation sociale orienté
« r exemple dans le sens du “progrès”, de la
Clvdisation” ou du “développement”. Bien des
de p S se sont donné une vision fort différente
histoire. Moins travaillés sans doute par les
. radictions sociales et l’innovation technolo-
^ j e’ üs avaient tendance à se référer avant tout
o- xUrs mythes fondateurs. Ces sociétés n’avaient
rai ^ Conscience des transformations qui s’opé-
nt Peu à peu en leur sein et croyaient se repro-
duire sans autre changement que le remplacement
des générations par d’autres générations d’hommes
et de femmes. On se souvient que Lévi-Strauss a
qualifié ces sociétés de “froides”.
La communauté gabbra des confins du Kenya et
de l’Éthiopie constitue un bon exemple de société
“froide”.1 Chez ces nomades, “le passage du temps
est quelque chose de très important dans la vie et
tout s’inscrit dans les cycles qui rythment celle-ci”
(Kassam 1995 : 44). Selon un autre spécialiste des
Gabbra, leurs anciens persistent à voir dans le
présent une simple “répétition” des événements du
passé (Wood 1999 ; 84). Celui de leurs concepts
se rapprochant le plus de notre notion d’histoire,
marar, veut dire “répétition” (Kassam 1986 : 198).
Au regard de ces chameliers, les événements se
produisent suivant une certaine cyclicité et, du
moins pour un expert local du temps, ils sont en
principe prévisibles (198). Les Gabbra croient en
outre que chaque journée de la semaine de sept
jours a son génie propre, telle journée étant propice
à telle activité et non à telle autre ; tout homme
ou femme gabbra doit en partie son nom et donc
son identité au jour de sa naissance ; enfin, pour
ces gens, les années se suivent selon le même
cycle de sept noms, certaines années étant réputées
fastes, d’autres néfastes (199). Cette communauté
1 Les Gabbra sont considérés comme des Oromo. Selon
Schlee (1989) et Tablino (1999), leurs origines se situeraient
plutôt du côté des populations de type somali, comme les
Rendille, Sakuye et Garre. Ils se seraient assimilés aux
Oromo il y a quelques siècles.
82
Robert Hazel
se sent en grande partie impuissante devant des
prédéterminations qui la dépassent.
Il est peu connu que diverses ethnies de l’Est
africain et de la Corne de l’Afrique avaient une
vision cyclique de l’histoire ou, du moins, qu’une
telle représentation faisait partie de leurs cultures.
Cette conception de l’histoire était, pour ainsi dire,
consubstantielle à une institution très importante
dans ces régions, en l’occurrence le système de
classes d’âge ou de classes générationnelles.
Ces cinquante dernières années, les institutions
de ce type en vigueur dans l’est et le nord-
est de l’Afrique ont fait l’objet de nombreuses
analyses ou études comparatives, dont les sui-
vantes : Bernardi (1952), Prins (1953), Eisenstadt
(1954), Jensen (1954), Legesse (1963), Stewart
(1977), Baxter et Almagor (1978), Kertzer (1978),
Lattman River (1980), Bernardi (1985), Peatrik
(1993), Kurimoto et Simonse (1998) et Spencer
(1998, en particulier le chapitre 3). Ces auteurs et
quelques autres ont abordé des questions impor-
tantes ; la vocation ou fonction principale de ces
systèmes (politique, guerrière ou rituelle ?), leurs
rapports avec d’autres institutions sociales (en par-
ticulier la parenté), la compréhension de leurs
règles de fonctionnement et la mise en évidence
de certains dysfonctionnements (arbitrages entre
l’appartenance des individus à un groupe d’âge
et leur affiliation à une strate généalogique), la
distribution des rôles entre les groupes concernés
(avant tout masculins), la transformation de ces
systèmes au cours du siècle dernier, etc. D’autres
auteurs ont étudié sous divers angles la dynamique
ou les variantes de ces systèmes parmi quelques
populations apparentées2 * ou établi des conver-
gences entre les parcours rituels des individus dans
des systèmes de classes réputés différents (Hazel
1999).
Assez peu d’analystes se sont penchés sur les
représentations sous-jacentes à ces institutions. En
1965, Beidelman notait que “les analyses contem-
poraines” des classes d’âge ont négligé “la ‘lo-
gique’ ou le ‘système de représentations’ relié à
ces dernières, entre autres les valeurs et croyances
cosmologiques qui sous-tendent ces unités so-
ciales, en particulier les aspects reliés à la concep-
tion du temps, aux saisons, à la sexualité, à la
fertilité et aux notions de vie et de mort dans
leurs rapports au monde physique ou à l’ordre
moral” (1965 : 3, note 1). On doit constater que ces
remarques n’ont guère perdu de leur actualité.
2 Schlee 1989, 1998; Müller-Dempf 1991; Tomay 1995,
1998 ; Hazel 2000.
Certes, en Afrique orientale, les systèmes de
classes d’âge contribuaient à assurer l’unité de
la communauté tribale ou encore à structurer la
domination des aînés sur les cadets, mais ils consti-
tuaient aussi un cadre dans lequel chaque groupe
d’âge ou génération sociale avait à imprimer sa
marque sur une histoire tribale souvent vue comme
répétitive. La succession des générations était la
trame même de cette temporalité. Qui cherche à
comprendre ces institutions en faisant abstraction
de leur indiscutable portée historique risque, en
effet, de passer à côté d’une dimension importante,
sinon essentielle.
Nous constaterons dans cette étude sur les
systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Est africain que
la cyclicité était une caractéristique plus répandue
que ce que l’on a eu tendance à penser jusqu’ici.
Certains systèmes de classes réputés “linéaires”
étaient cycliques ou comportaient des éléments
importants, mais non évidents à première vue,
de cyclicité. Simple élément d’une longue série
de groupes d’âge ou de générations sociales suc-
cessives, une classe nouvellement instituée était
structurellement en rapport avec des classes parfois
très anciennes. Ainsi, il allait de soi qu’une nou-
velle classe aurait la même personnalité et serait
confrontée au même destin que celle (ou celles)
dont elle reprenait le nom.
Nous analyserons les scénarios d’histoire récur-
rente véhiculés par quelques-uns des systèmes de
classes d’âge de la région qui nous intéresse.
Nous verrons que des conceptions cycliques de
l’histoire assez simples en côtoyaient d’autres plus
élaborées. Les cycles avaient une durée variable,
approchant ou dépassant largement la centaine
d’années, selon les cas. Nous retrouverons en ter-
minant la piste d’une vision cyclique de l’histoire
jusque dans les royaumes des Grands Lacs afri-
cains. Nous reportons l’examen des réalisations
les plus sophistiquées des mêmes conceptions de
l’histoire à un article futur. La diversité des formes
que la notion de cyclicité historique a prises
dans cette région atteste de la profondeur et de
l’ancienneté des représentations sous-jacentes.
Cycles générationnels : le modèle de base
Dans le nord-est de l’Ouganda et les régions
avoisinantes, les systèmes de classes d’âge des
populations nilotiques de type Ateker - sou-
vent associées aux Karimojong, l’une des plus
nombreuses d’entre elles - avaient clairement
une structure générationnelle : les fils et petits-fils
d’un groupe de frères relevaient de deux classes
Anthropos 101.2006
83
Cyclicité
, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
générationnelles distinctes, les fils appartenant à
Celle qui suivait celle du groupe des frères, les
Petits-fils à la suivante ; de même pour les fils
et petits-fils d’hommes non apparentés entre eux,
filais relevant d’une même classe générationnelle,
efi d’autres termes d’une même génération sociale.
Parmi ces populations, les systèmes de classes
institutionnalisaient, en la projetant à l’échelle
tribale, une dialectique intergénérationnelle qui se
vivait premièrement dans les hameaux. En pays
dodoth, non loin des Jie dont nous reparlerons à
l’instant :
Etant donné que la structure du système de classes d’âge
est calquée sur celle des unités familiales, les aînés sont
comme des pères de famille. Les familles se divisent en
Pcres (ou père) et en fils ; de même, les classes d’âge se
regroupent en deux générations, l’une ancienne, l’autre
Plus jeune (Marshall-Thomas 1972:57).
Eteux générations sociales se partageaient le devant
la scène à un moment donné, à savoir la classe
fiai se proclamait “Pères du pays” et celle des “Fils
pays”. La première exerçait la fonction politico-
taligieuse dominante durant quelques décennies.
r;es membres de la classe suivante demeuraient
Jls du pays durant la même période. Avec le
î^nps, les membres vieillissants de la classe des
eres diminuaient en nombre cependant que la
fiasse des Fils, de plus en plus nombreuse et
p0rte, faisait pression pour accéder au statut de
eres du pays. Détentrice de l’autorité suprême, la
^asse des Pères finissait tôt ou tard par se retirer.
ans certains cas, en particulier chez les Jie, les
^ombres de la classe retraitée conservaient un
r°le en tant qu’intercesseurs auprès de la divinité
Celeste Akuj.
, Selon Gulliver (1953 : 148 ; 1965 : 182), une
§enération jie était promue au rang de Pères du
tous les 25 environ. Les recherches plus
P°fissées de Lamphear (1976:45) ont révélé que
^et intervalle était plutôt de 40 ans, une durée com-
parable à la période de 5 fois 8 ans qui rythmait
,Q système générationnel des Boran (Lamphear
°9 ; 238, note 5) et de divers autres groupes
°romo.3 ë P
Plus
Eri milieu jie, il appartenait aux membres les
rait de
êénér,
anciens de la génération sociale qui se reti-
procéder à l’inauguration d’une nouvelle
m ation. Il fallait ici qu’ “un patrimoine spi-
Ue|t et rituel” (Gulliver 1953 ; 149) ou encore
e les pouvoirs spirituels et l’efficacité rituelle
ent transmis par ces vieillards à leurs petits-fils”
3 Les Oromo ont développé des modèles sophistiqués d’his-
t0lre répétitive.
ônth
(Gulliver 1965 : 182), ce qui s’opérait via Fonction
et la bénédiction d’un des premiers représentants
de la nouvelle génération (182) ou l’initiation d’un
homme issu d’une famille éminente dans chacune
des deux grandes sections territoriales du pays
jie (Lamphear 1976: 39). Dans ces importantes
cérémonies, la classe intermédiaire, celle des nou-
veaux Pères du pays, n’avait qu’un rôle auxiliaire
(Gulliver 1953 : 149). Il appartenait également aux
hommes qui se retiraient de nommer la toute pre-
mière des multiples subdivisions de la nouvelle
génération, le nom choisi étant typiquement celui
d’une strate de leur propre génération dont au-
cun membre n’était vivant (Lamphear 1976:41).
Ce nom avait d’ailleurs tendance à devenir le
nom particulier de la nouvelle génération (Gulliver
1953 : 149).
Il faut savoir que la première subdivision d’une
nouvelle classe générationnelle correspondait à
une avant-garde, certains hommes étant âgés de
40 ans ou plus.4 Mais les représentants aînés de
cette génération n’avaient aucun espoir d’accéder
un jour au statut de Pères du pays. Les subdivisions
subséquentes étant davantage formées d’individus
d’âge comparable, ces unités correspondaient à des
classes d’âge dont le bassin de recrutement se limi-
tait toutefois aux membres d’une seule génération
sociale. Sachant qu’une génération continuait de
faire le plein de ses membres après avoir accédé
au rang de Pères du pays, deux jeunes hommes ne
pouvaient pas être admis dans une même classe
d’âge si l’un était de la génération des Pères et
l’autre de celle des Fils. Quoique de même âge,
les deux individus n’étaient pas des égaux.
Vers 1950, les classes générationnelles jie por-
taient les noms de Topi (Fils), Buffles (Pères)
et Girafes, cette dernière génération ayant trans-
mis les pouvoirs aux Buffles. Selon Gulliver
(1953 ; 167), les Jie n’attribuaient pas à leur
système générationnel un caractère cyclique. Mais
Lamphear (1976 : 41) a relevé que toute génération
jie avait, outre son nom distinctif (par exemple
“Les Buffles”), un autre nom qui, lui, était inva-
4 L’institution de leur classe leur ouvrait la voie à l’initiation.
Les peuples Ateker ignoraient la circoncision. Le moment
clé de l’initiation était ici la mise à mort, par transper-
cement, d’un bœuf sacrificiel. Chez les Jie, un non-initié
ne pouvait généralement “pas participer à des activités
rituelles, incluant les festins de viande associés à celles-
ci” (Gulliver 1953 ; 158). En pays karimojong, un homme
ne pouvait prendre formellement épouse et être considéré
comme le père de ses enfants s’il n’avait pas fait son
initiation (Laughlin and Laughlin 1974:271, rapportant
une communication avec Dyson-Hudson ; cf. aussi Dyson-
Hudson 1963:379, 381 s.).
lr°Pos 101.2006
84
Robert Hazel
riable et qui avait été porté par ses grands-pères
(génération X + 2), par ses arrière-arrière grands-
pères (génération X + 4), etc. Les deux noms
récurrents ; “Les Éléphants” et “Les Blaireaux”,
se transmettaient en alternance, un nom pour
chacune des deux séries de générations sociales
alternées. Au moment de se retirer, une génération
jie transmettait donc son “vrai nom” - selon le
mot de Lamphear - à la génération sociale de ses
petits-fils. Cette dernière avait par ailleurs un nom
distinct et non récurrent (par exemple “Les Topi”),
par lequel elle se démarquait de la génération de
ses grands-pères.
De même, sur le plan familial, les noms mascu-
lins étaient repris de la génération des grands-pères
(Gulliver 1952 : 74). Un homme jie adoptait aussi
la couleur favorite de l’aïeul dont il reprenait le
nom (74). En conséquence, la robe du bœuf de pa-
rade d’un individu était de même couleur et confi-
guration que celle du bœuf favori de son grand-
père. Il se peut que les générations sociales jie
aient arboré des couleurs distinctives (Lamphear
1976 : 156, note 30), comme chez d’autres peuples
Ateker, en particulier les Karimojong et les Tur-
kana.
Sachant que toute classe générationnelle jie
conservait le statut de Fils du pays durant environ
40 ans, qu’elle prenait ensuite les commandes
en tant que Pères du pays durant une période
équivalente et qu’au bout de cette période, elle
était remplacée par la première subdivision de
la génération homonyme de ses petits-fils, on
constate que le système jie avait une périodicité
d’environ 80 ans. Bref, même si Gulliver a été
d’avis contraire, le système générationnel des Jie
était bel et bien cyclique, le ressort de cette
cyclicité étant tout simplement le remplacement
d’une génération par la génération suivante plus
une.
De l’identification d’une génération à une autre
plus ancienne pouvait découler une certaine con-
ception de l’histoire. Par exemple, dans les actions
collectives qu’ils entreprenaient (expédition guer-
rière contre tel ou tel ennemi, par exemple), les
membres de la classe des Fils devaient sans doute
tenir compte de ce qui s’était passé du temps où
leurs grands-pères occupaient le même rang. Nous
n’avons pas trouvé d’indication en ce sens dans la
documentation ethnographique.
Cela dit, l’historien Lamphear (1976 : 16) a pu
reconstituer 250 années d’histoire en recoupant les
traditions orales des Jie, un exploit qui dépassait
de loin la mesure de ce que Gulliver (1955 : 104 s.)
et Dyson-Hudson (1966 : 258) avaient cru possible
chez les peuples de type Ateker. Ce ne sont tou-
tefois pas les traditions orales reliées au système
générationnel qui se sont révélées les plus fiables
et les plus détaillées, mais plutôt celles se rap-
portant au passé des groupes claniques (Lamphear
1976:26).
Le modèle de base enrichi par les Karimojong
En pays karimojong, les choses se passaient un
peu comme chez les Jie. Commentant le processus
de remplacement d’une classe sortante chez les
voisins des Jie, Dy son-Hudson (1963 : 361) notait
ce qui suit :
Les Karimojong disent qu’une génération “reprend la
place occupée par ses grands-pères” ; que les nouveaux
venus “mettent les ornements de leurs grands-pères” ;
qu’ils “reçoivent un nom qui correspond à l’animal de
leurs grands-pères”. Parfois, on dit des classes généra-
tionnelles alternées qu’elles sont “une”.5
Mais il y avait quelques différences importantes
entre les Jie et les Karimojong. L’une de ces
divergences était que la génération qui se retirait
perdait tout prestige après avoir cédé les pouvoirs
à ses fils. De même, chez les Dodoth, les membres
survivants de l’ex-classe des Pères devenaient
“comme des hommes non initiés” (Marshall-Tho-
mas 1972:59). Cela a sans doute alimenté une
tendance, notamment chez les Karimojong, à re-
pousser le plus possible le moment de la retraite
et, donc, à étirer la périodicité du système. Dyson-
Hudson (1963 : 396) a cité un cas, qu’il tenait
pour une irrégularité, où l’intervalle entre deux
cérémonies de passation des pouvoirs aurait ap-
proché les 60 ans. Des recherches plus récentes
ont assez bien démontré que cet intervalle devait
normalement se situer dans la fourchette des 50 à
60 ans.6
De plus, le système générationnel des Karimo-
jong comportait non pas deux, mais bien quatre
noms récurrents (Dyson-Hudson 1963:359 s.)-
Les générations sociales se succédaient dans cet
ordre : “Les Zèbres”, puis “Les Montagnes”, puis
“Les Gazelles”, enfin “Les Lions”. Le nom d’une
5 Les hommes des deux générations actives et leurs femmes
respectives adoptaient la couleur de la génération de leurs
grands-pères et grands-mères, portant des ornements faits*
selon le cas, soit de laiton (“jaune”), soit de cuivr6
(“rouge”), rapportait Dyson-Hudson (1963 : 360 s.). Dans Ie
cycle de quatre générations en vigueur chez les Karimojong*
le jaune était la couleur des Zèbres et des Gazelles, le rouge*
celle des Montagnes et des Lions. Voir plus bas.
6 Spencer 1978:140 s.; Müller-Dempf 1991:559; Tornay
1995 : 71 ; Spencer 1998:109.
Anthropos 101.2006
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
85
classe, par exemple “Les Zèbres”, était ensuite
repris par une génération correspondant à ses ar-
rière-arrière petits-fils (génération X + 4). Sachant
que les intervalles étaient ici de 50 ou 60 ans,
une génération nommée Zèbres réapparaissait
comme Fils du pays plus de 200 ou 240 ans
après la génération précédente ayant eu le même
nom.
Plus complexe que le système de classes géné-
rationnelles des Jie, celui des Karimojong com-
portait donc une double périodicité : l’une, plus
longue, correspondant au retour du même nom
dans le cycle complet de quatre générations ;
l’autre, moitié moins longue, correspondant au
remplacement d’une génération par celle de ses
Petits-fils. La périodicité courte équivalait ici à 100
°u 120 ans.
Toutefois, selon le même Lamphear (1976:43,
note 44), les deux “vraies” appellations des classes
générationnelles karimojong auraient été “Les
Zèbres” et “Les Montagnes”. Diverses indica-
ll°ns importantes corroborent cette observation.
La première est la suivante : sur le plan familial,
Ls noms portés par des hommes étaient repris
de la génération des grands-pères (Dyson-Hudson
1^66 : 161), conformément aux pratiques en usage
chez les Jie. Deuxièmement, les noms des sub-
divisions successives d’une classe générationnelle
^rimojong étaient censés faire écho aux noms
^es sous-classes de la génération sociale de leurs
grands-pères (Dyson-Hudson 1963 : 360 s.), à l’in-
^ar encore une fois de ce qui se passait en pays jie.
troisièmement, les générations alternées passaient
Pour être équivalentes et portaient des ornements
même couleur, tel que vu plus haut.
La quatrième indication provient des voisins
?rientaux immédiats des Karimojong. Chez les
*urkana de l’ouest du Kenya, il n’y avait que
Jix ~ et non pas quatre - grandes classes
§enérationnelles. Celles-ci avaient pour nom “Les
lerres”, Ngimur, et “Les Léopards”, Ngirisai
'Gulliver 1958:902). Le premier de ces deux
n°ms était le même que l’appellation karimojong
^Correspondante : Ngimoru.1
' La majorité des “vraies” appellations des générations so-
Clales jie et karimojong reviennent chez d’autres peuples
‘k type Ateker : “Les Pierres” et “Les Zèbres” chez les
^yangatom, les Toposa et les Jiye, les plus septentrionaux
ÿs Ateker; “Les Éléphants” chez les Nyangatom et les
ToPosa (Tomay 1982 : 143 ; Müller-Dempf 1991: 561). Il
aut toutefois noter que la succession de ces noms n’était
Pas toujours conforme à l’orthodoxie karimojong. Notons
Чце Tomay (1998 : 100) n’a relevé aucun caractère apparent
'k cyclicité dans le système générationnel des Nyangatom
u sud-ouest de l’Éthiopie.
5nth
La cinquième indication nous vient des voi-
sins méridionaux des Karimojong. Séduits par
leurs puissants adversaires, les Pokot de la plaine
avaient plus ou moins délaissé le système de
classes en vigueur chez leurs parents monta-
gnards.8 * Ces Pokot pasteurs étaient répartis en
deux classes générationnelles dénommées “Les
Zèbres”, Tukoi, et “Les Rochers”, Nyimur. Non
seulement ces désignations étaient identiques aux
“vrais noms” (Lamphear) des générations sociales
karimojong ; Ngitukoi et Ngimoru, mais les Tu-
koi et Nyimur portaient des ornements distinc-
tifs de même couleur que la classe karimojong
équivalente : laiton - autrement dit “jaune” - pour
les Tukoi et cuivre - autrement dit “rouge” - pour
les Nyimur (Peristiany 1951 : 290).
Quoi qu’il en soit des indiscutables correspon-
dances ayant pu exister chez les Karimojong entre
les générations sociales alternées, il n’en demeure
pas moins que leur système générationnel compor-
tait une séquence de quatre noms récurrents. Dans
un tel modèle, un groupe de pairs a encore plus
d’affinités avec les grands-pères de leurs grands-
pères qu’avec ces derniers.
Dans l’univers des sociétés de type karimo-
jong, les moments importants de l’histoire tri-
bale étaient associés à la période durant la-
quelle telle ou telle génération occupait le statut
de Fils ou de Pères du pays. Chez les Toposa
et leurs voisins Nyangatom, cette histoire avait
commencé par T avènement de la génération des
“Initiateurs du pays”, Ngisiaukop ou Ngiseukop
(Tomay 1982 ; 143 ; 1998 ; 100 ; Müller-Dempf
1991:561), aussi appelée Ngipalajam (Müller-
Dempf 1991:561). Les Jie, Turkana et Karimo-
jong connaissaient aussi une génération de ce der-
nier nom, qui aurait existé durant la première
moitié du XVIIIe siècle (Lamphear 1976: 108).
Les Jie, qui se considéraient comme le noyau de
toutes les communautés Ateker et qui étaient tenus
pour tel par plusieurs de celles-ci, croyaient que
l’inventeur de leur système générationnel avait été
le fondateur de leur peuple, un héros qualifié de
“semi-mythique” par Lamphear (1989 : 243).
Comme l’a relevé Tomay (1982: 147), ces
systèmes générationnels peuvent être conçus
“d’une certaine manière comme des instruments à
mesurer le temps. Mais ce n’est pas d’un temps
linéaire, objectif, qu’il s’agit, mais bien d’une
temporalité structurale, propre à cette société.”
Cette temporalité était clairement rythmée par la
8 Les Pokot appartiennent à une autre famille nilotique que
les Karimojong. Il sera question des Pokot et de leurs
cousins kalenjin plus bas.
,roPos 101.2006
86
Robert Hazel
succession des générations et par le remplacement
d’une génération par celle de ses petits-enfants.
Ces trois éléments que sont, d’abord, le rempla-
cement d’une génération par la génération suivante
plus une, ensuite le cycle formé, chez les Kari-
mojong, par une séquence de quatre générations
(A - B - C - D) et, enfin, le retour périodique des
mêmes noms (Aj - Bj - Cj - Dj / A2 - B2, etc.)
se retrouvaient dans d’autres systèmes de classes
et, plus généralement, dans d’autres institutions
sociales de l’Est africain. C’est justement parce
qu’ils sont tout à fait apparents chez les Jie, Kari-
mojong et autres que nous avons commencé notre
démarche exploratoire en considérant les systèmes
de classes générationnelles des populations Ateker.
Le destin cyclique des classes d’âge kalenjin
Le terme “kalenjin” est appliqué à un ensemble
de communautés qui, du point de vue linguistique,
sont classées comme des Nilotiques méridionaux.
Il s’agit notamment des Pokot, Nandi, Kipsigis,
Elgeyo, etc. du sud-ouest du Kenya ainsi que des
Sebei du sud-est de l’Ouganda et de quelques
groupes apparentés à eux (Omosule 1989). Ces
populations se distinguent, par exemple, des Ni-
lotiques orientaux, à savoir les Jie, Karimo-
jong, etc., ainsi que de tous les peuples de type
maasai.
Il est reconnu depuis longtemps que tous les
groupes kalenjin disposaient de systèmes cycliques
de classes d’âge.9 Il est toutefois moins connu que
cette cyclicité impliquait une certaine façon de se
représenter l’histoire. Peristiany (1975:180, 183)
a fort bien mis cet aspect en évidence ;
Pour les Pokot, et plus particulièrement pour ceux qui
vivent dans leur terroir montagneux, le passé, le présent
et l’avenir sont compris dans la succession cyclique et
éternelle de huit périodes de temps d’une durée indi-
viduelle de 10 à 15 ans environ. ... La répétition des
noms des classes d’âge équivaut à une récapitulation
de l’histoire tribale. A chaque nom sont associés di-
vers événements qui sont appelés à se reproduire avec
l’institution d’une nouvelle classe d’âge répondant au
même nom.
Les mêmes représentations avaient cours chez les
Sebei, plus à l’ouest :
9 Les Tiriki, un groupe bantou se dénommant lui-même
Badiliji, a adopté le système de classes des Kalenjin
(Sangree 1966). Les Tiriki ont plus particulièrement suivi
l’exemple des Terik (ou Nyangori), une petite communauté
d’origine nandi à laquelle ils étaient alliés.
Les Sebei datent les événements en relation aux classes
d’âge et plus particulièrement à la période durant la-
quelle une nouvelle classe fait le plein de ses membres
fraîchement initiés. Ils voient une sorte d’identité entre
classes homonymes successives, croyant que la période
d’une classe quelconque aura le même caractère que
celle de la précédente ayant porté le même nom (Gold-
schmidt 1976: 104 s.).
Les Marakwet du Kenya se remémoraient aussi
leur histoire tribale en se référant à la succession
des classes d’âge. Tous les grands moments du
passé étaient reliés à l’époque de telle ou telle
classe. Selon Moore (1986 : 57), cette méthode de
datation est aléatoire du fait que “les Marakwet ont
tendance à ramener tous les événements associés
à un nom de classe à la période de la plus récente
classe de même nom, ce qui renforce le sentiment
d’identité entre classes homonymes successives
et donne à penser que les deux périodes seront
marquées de la même façon.”
Chez les Kalenjin, les classes d’âge homonymes
avaient donc en commun une “personnalité”, au-
trement dit un destin. Tout se passe comme si
l’histoire tribale pouvait être condensée dans un
seul cycle de huit classes.
D’après Ehret (1971:64), ethnolinguiste et
historien des Nilotiques méridionaux, les proto-
Kalenjin avaient déjà un système de classes d’âge
cyclique comprenant huit noms. Dans leur plus
simple expression, ces noms auraient été (1) Sawe,
(2) Koronkoro, (3) Kipkoimet, (4) Kaplelac, (5)
Kimnyikeu, (6) Nyonki, (7) Maina et (8) Chu-
ma. Après un cycle complet, les noms reve-
naient dans le même ordre. Au XXe siècle, un
nom ne pouvait refaire surface avant que tous
les membres de la classe homonyme précédente,
incluant leurs femmes, ne fussent morts (Lang’at
1969 :72).10
Les estimations fournies quant à l’intervalle
entre la création de deux classes d’âge succes-
sives sont variables: de 10 à 15 ans (Peristiany
10 Pareillement, sur le plan familial, une génération transmet-
tait des noms et des traits de caractère aux générations
subséquentes. Chez les Nandi, qui croyaient en la réincar-
nation, “une femme enceinte peut appeler un esprit et lu1
demander de venir à elle et de renaître à travers elle • • •
L’enfant né après une telle invocation est appelé Kituf,
‘celui qui a été remplacé’ ou ‘celle qui a été remplacée ■
... Quand un esprit revient, il garde la même personnalité
(Huntingford 1953 : 143 s.). En pays kipsigis, “lorsqu’au
enfant naît, on cherche à savoir quel esprit l’habite. On
homme a le même caractère que l’esprit qui est en lu1
(Orchardson 1932-1933 : 160). Les noms étaient typique'
ment repris par des représentants en ligne paternelle de
la génération des petits-enfants, comme chez les Jie et
Karimojong.
Anthropos 101.2006
87
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
1975:180); entre 12 à 16 ans (Langley 1979;
19); 15 ans11 ; de 15 à 20 ans (Peristiany 1939:
xxix/Kipsigis) ; plutôt 20 ans que 15 (Manners
1967 ; 258) ; de l’ordre de 20 ou 21 ans.12 La durée
complète du cycle est estimée à cent ans à peu près
Par Welboum (1976 : 232) et Moore (1986 : 57), à
environ 105 ans par Sangree (1966:67), à 130
ans par Orchardson (1961 ; 12) et à 160 par Gold-
schmidt (1976:103).
Divers peuples kalenjin sont restés fidèles au
cycle de huit noms. Ainsi, chez les Elgeyo du
sud-ouest du Kenya, la série était formée, selon
Massam (1927:54 s.) et Welboum (1967:214),
des désignations suivantes : Sowi (ou Sawe), suivi
de Korongow, suivi de Kipkoimet, suivi de Kab-
talach (ou Kaplelach), suivi de Kimniyegeo (ou
Kipnyigeu), suivi de Nyongi, suivi de Maina, suivi
enfin de Chumo. Chez les Marakwet, non loin des
Elgeyo, les huits noms se suivaient dans cet ordre :
Nyongi, Maina, Chumo, Sawe, Korongow, Kabe-
,Ur, Kaplelach et Kimnygeu, cette dernière classe
ayant été inaugurée en 1975 (Moore 1986:56).
La série marakwet diffère de celle des Elgeyo
Sür un seul point : un autre nom, Kaberur, appa-
rait à la place de Kipkoimet, un nom qui vient
3e position dans la série établie par Ehret.
^ pays sebei, dans le sud-est de l’Ouganda, le
cycle de huit noms se déclinait ainsi : Sowe, Ko-
r°nkoro, Kwoimet, Kaplelaich, Nyikeao, Nyonki,
^aina et Chumo (Goldschmidt 1976:104). En-
^ chez les Pokot de la montagne, la séquence
etait Sowa (ou Sowe), Karongow (ou Kerongo-
^9, Kipkoimet, Kablelach, Merkutwa, Nyongu (ou
Ky°nge), Maina et Jumo, selon Beech (1911 :6)
Peristiany (1951:286, 296). La série pokot
tffère de la majorité des précédentes sur un
^eul point : un autre nom, Merkutwa, apparaît en
Position, à la place du Kimnyikeu de la série
^ Ehret.13
Au moment de la colonisation britannique, les
andi et les Kipsigis avaient toutefois un système
e classes à sept noms. Les sept appellations nandi
Lipsigis étaient les mêmes, à savoir (1) Sawe,
11 Mollis 1909 : 52 ; Beech 1911 : 5 ; Huntingford 1953 ; 54 ;
12 Sangree 1966 : 67 ; Welboum 1967:214.
yrchardson 1961:125; Lang’at 1969:74; Goldschmidt
1976:104-
es systèmes cycliques à huit classes existaient ailleurs
Afrique de l’Est. Par exemple, les Burji du sud-ouest
,e 1 Ethiopie disposaient d’un tel système et sa périodicité
®,tait de 80 à 120 ans (Mude 1969:35, 37). Dans l’est de
Ouganda, divers groupes de Teso avaient aussi un système
Aclique à huit classes (Nagashima 1998 : 233 s.). Dans ce
Cas-ci, ü n’a pas pOSSibie d’en établir la périodicité de
manière fiable.
(2) Kipkoimet, (3) Kaplelach, (4) Kimnyike, (5)
Nyongi, (6) Maina et (7) Juma.14
Ces deux groupes kalenjin étaient bien en vue
compte tenu de leur importance et de leur proxi-
mité relative par rapport à la capitale du Ke-
nya, Nairobi, mais aussi du fait des résistances
qu’ils avaient opposées au colonisateur. C’est
pourquoi certains ont pu penser que les peuples
kalenjin qui avaient un système à huit noms
ne souscrivaient pas à la norme kalenjin. Pour
une juste compréhension des systèmes de classes
d’âge des Kalenjin, il importe de corriger cette
perception.
Le nom Koronkoro, en deuxième position dans
la série d’Ehret, semblait manquer à l’appel en
pays nandi et kipsigis. Pourtant, on retrouvait
la désignation de Golongolo chez les Tiriki qui
jouxtaient les Nandi et qui avaient assimilé le
système de classes des Terik, une communauté
kalenjin issue des Nandi. Qu’est-il advenu du nom
Koronkoro chez les Nandi et Kipisigis ?
Selon Mwanzi (1977 : 108), ce nom était incon-
nu des Kipsigis et n’aurait eu cours que chez les
Nandi, où il aurait fait suite à Sawe et précédé
Kaplelach dans leur cycle de sept classes d’âge.
Les données ethnographiques ne lui donnent pour-
tant pas raison. En effet, selon Barton (1923 ; 60),
une classe nommée Korongow aurait été créée
vers 1871 chez les Kipsigis. De même, Toweett
(1979: 16) fait état d’une classe Korongow qui
aurait été active vers le début du XIXe siècle.
Ce nom est donné par Lang’at (1969 : 72) comme
synonyme de Kipkoimet. Peristiany (1939:42) a
également mis les deux noms en relation : “Cer-
tains de mes informateurs étaient d’avis que la
première des [trois] subdivisions de la classe
Kipkoymet s’appelait autrefois Kerongoro jusqu’à
ce que ce nom soit tenu pour tellement mal-
chanceux qu’on l’abandonna.” Paradoxalement,
“l’association entre les noms Kerongoro et Kip-
koymet devint si étroite que tous les Kipkoymet
furent connus sous le nom de Kerongoro” (42). De
même, dans la liste des classes kipsigis fournie par
14 Divers auteurs ont fait état d’un cycle de classes d’âge
à sept noms chez les Nandi et Kipsigis: Hollis (1909),
Peristiany (1939), Huntingford (1953), Manners (1967),
Lang’at (1969), Mwanzi (1977), Langley (1979), Smith-
Oboler (1985) et Komma (1998). Huntingford (1969:77)
et Sangree (1966) ont aussi rapporté des systèmes à sept
noms chez les Kamasia (ou Tugen), un groupe kalenjin
de moindre importance démographique que les Nandi ou
Kipsigis, et les Tiriki, respectivement. Notons au passage
qu’un groupe de chasseurs cueilleurs okiek évoluant en
altitude à proximité des Kipsigis se dénommait Kaplelach
(Blackburn 1974; 143).
88
Robert Hazel
Orchardson (1961 : 125), Kowngoro suit Sawe et
précède Kaplelach, ce qui correspond à l’opinion
de Mwanzi, mais s’agissant des Kipsigis plutôt
que de leurs cousins nandi. Selon Orchardson,
cette classe Kowngoro aurait été instituée vers
1838.
En pays nandi, les désignations Kowngoro et
Kipkoymet étaient pareillement associées. Des an-
ciens racontaient que les guerriers maasai avaient
presque exterminé la classe Kowngoro, alors guer-
rière. Ce désastre serait survenu vers 1770, esti-
mait Huntingford (1953:74). Pour éviter que la
malchance ne s’acharnât sur cette classe, le nom
aurait, suivant les mêmes informateurs, été changé
pour Kipkoimet. Pour Huntingford (1953:74), “un
tel changement de nom est compréhensible vu
que le maintien d’une appellation malchanceuse
pourrait ... entraîner de nouveaux désastres pour
toute classe d’âge portant ce nom.” Cette histoire
est confirmée par Smith-Oboler (1985 ; 19, note) :
“le nom Kowngoro existait autrefois, mais il fut
mis de côté au début du XIXe siècle au profit
de Kipkoimet parce que la classe Kowngoro avait
auparavant subi une défaite désastreuse aux mains
des Maasai.”15
Dans le système de classes d’âge des Tiriki, une
certaine confusion existait entre les noms Gibgoy-
ment et Kabalach (autrement dit entre Kipkoimet
et Kaplelach), le premier terme passant volontiers
pour un synonyme du second (Sangree 1966 ; 69).
De plus, dans certains secteurs du pays tiriki, on
utilisait l’appellation Andalo plutôt que Golongolo
(70, note 1). Ce changement de nom aurait été
effectué pour le même motif que chez les Nandi ou
Kipsigis ; éviter de donner à une classe d’hommes
une identité susceptible de lui porter malheur (70,
note l).16
15 Vu qu’un intervalle de 120 ans et plus séparait deux classes
successives de même nom, la grande défaite évoquée par
Smith-Oboler remonterait à une époque comprise entre
1770 et 1790, ce qui s’accorde assez avec ce que disait Hun-
tingford. (La catastrophe pourrait toutefois être arrivée du
temps de la classe Kowngoro précédente, soit vers 1640-
1670.) Selon Toweett (1979:16), une classe guerrière
kipisigis du nom de Kowngoro aurait paradoxalement eu
du succès contre les Kisii - aussi dits Gusii - et certains .
Maasai vers 1800. On sait qu’une classe Koronkoro a
occupé le stade guerrier vers 1785-1804 chez les Sebei
(Goldschmidt 1976 : 104). Le mot Kowngoro serait associé
à la caldera nommée Ngorongoro dans le nord de la
Tanzanie actuelle (cf. http://www.ntz.info). Les deux noms
seraient d’origine kalenjin.
16 Les aînés tiriki se rappelaient de trois autres noms syno-
nymes, dont celui de Gamanyeli, tout en étant incapables
de préciser à quelles classes ces noms avaient été appliqués
(Sangree 1966:70, note 1). Ils ne s’entendaient d’ailleurs
pas sur l’ordre de succession de deux de leurs classes
Compte tenu de l’ancienneté et de la stabilité du
cycle de huit noms chez les Kalenjin, Kowngoro
n’a sans doute jamais été le nom de la première
des subdivisions de la classe Kipkoimet (Kipsigis),
ni un substitut ou synonyme de ce même nom
(Nandi). Il s’agissait sûrement chez les Nandi
et Kipsigis d’une classe distincte qui, autrefois,
suivait Sawe et devançait Kipkoimet, comme cela
est demeuré le cas chez les autres peuples kalenjin.
Il est possible que les origines historiques du destin
malheureux de la classe Kowngoro remontent à
une époque où les Nandi et Kipsigis n’existaient
pas encore comme entités politiques distinctes, à
savoir au XVIIIe, voire au XVIIe siècle.17
Le fait que l’on retrouve une histoire analogue
chez un troisième peuple kalenjin semble confir-
mer l’ancienneté de toute cette histoire :
Kerongoro est le plus funeste des noms de classes
d’âge chez les Pokot. Les périodes d’histoire associées
à ce nom - que personne n’osait prononcer - avaient
été marquées, croyait-on ..., par des sécheresses, la
peste bovine, l’infection des plaies de la circonci-
sion, la désobéissance des jeunes guerriers Kerongoro,
l’irresponsabilité de leurs leaders et les défaites subies
aux mains de l’ennemi (Peristiany 1975 : 183).
En 1947, les aînés pokot ont fait pression sur
les jeunes hommes, théoriquement au stade guer-
rier, pour qu’ils renoncent au nom Kerongoro et
adoptent plutôt le nom suivant, à savoir Kipkoymet-
Le même scénario avait dû se passer autrefois chez
les Nandi et Kipsigis. Dans le cas contemporain
des Pokot, les jeunes hommes refusèrent d’être
connus sous une autre appellation au motif que
le nom Kerongoro appartenait en propre à leur
groupe (Peristiany 1975 : 184). Il ne restait plus
aux anciens qu’espérer la venue au sein de la
communauté tribale d’un grand mage ou d’un chef
charismatique assez fort pour conjurer le destin
(184).
Un survol de la documentation ethnographique
montre que la classe Koronkoro - pour reprendre
la notation d’Ehret - n’était pas la seule à avoir
acquis une mauvaise renommée chez les peuples
kalenjin. Ainsi, quand vint, également en pays
kipsigis, le moment d’ouvrir dans les années 1930
d’âge, ce qui a amené Sangree (1966:69) à placer Kü'
balach devant Golongolo et non pas à sa suite, comme
cela a sûrement été le cas. Nous verrons plus loin qu’une
variante de Gamanyeli s’est substituée à Kimnyike chez des
populations bantoues sises aux confins du Kenya et de la
Tanzanie.
17 La société kipsigis aurait commencé à prendre forme nu
cours du XVIIIe siècle (Mwanzi 1977 : 93).
Anthropos 101.2û06
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
89
une nouvelle période de circoncision pour ac-
cueillir les membres de la troisième subdivision
de la classe Maina, les aînés procédèrent plutôt à
1’inauguration de la classe suivante, Chuma ; leur
décision avait été motivée par l’indiscipline notoire
des guerriers Maina et par la mauvaise réputation
laissée par les précédents guerriers Maina (Or-
chardson 1961 : 12). Chez les Elgeyo, la classe
Sawe était renommée pour ses exploits, son audace
ctant telle que le pays risquait chaque fois le chaos.
Un aîné avait déclaré à Welbourn (1967 : 214) qu’il
ctait content d’épuiser ses jours avant que la classe
Sawe ne soit instituée à nouveau. De fait, les Sawe
allaient réclamer une mise à jour complète de la
coutume (214). Nous avons déjà vu que les Pokot
de la plaine avaient, pour une part, délaissé la cou-
tume kalenjin et assimilé le système générationnel
des Karimojong. L’une des premières subdivisions
de la génération Nyimur a été renommée Bitiro
(du karimojong ngiputiro, “phacochères”) plutôt
9ne Akori, “Les Girafes”, pour éviter que “des
calamités telles que la sécheresse et des défaites
utilitaires ne s’abattent à nouveau sur le pays”
(Peristiany 1951 ; 294, note 7).
Bref, les classes kalenjin avaient un destin
Particulier et, quand ce destin était néfaste, on
cherchait à le conjurer. Différentes formules ont
eté essayées : (a) prier les dieux (cas des Pokot de
U montagne avec les Kewngoro ; cas des Elgeyo
avec les Sawel) ; (b) écourter la période allouée
a une classe, par exemple en faisant sauter sa
dernière subdivision (cas des Kipisigis avec les
Waina) ; (c) modifier le nom d’une classe ou d’une
s°us-classe (cas des Pokot de la plaine avec Akori,
^tis aussi sans doute des Pokot de la montagne
^ ont autrefois remplacé le vieux nom kalenjin
^ltnnyikeu par Merkutwa, et des Marakwet qui
°nt changé le nom Kipkoimet pour Kaberur). À
a limite, on pouvait aller jusqu’à faire sauter une
iasse, comme l’ont fait les Nandi et Kipsigis
^ec Korongoro et, apparemment, les Kamasia
Uügen) avec Nyongi. Nous verrons dans la section
vante qu’une telle mesure allait à l’encontre de
a structure des systèmes de classes d’âge de type
Udenjin.
Ua structure cachée du système kalenjin
nom Korongoro réapparaissait chez les Kuria,
population bantoue établie à 150 ou 200 km
sud des Kalenjin du Kenya, à cheval sur la fron-
re entre le Kenya et la Tanzanie. À la différence
s Kalenjin, leur système de classes comportait
üx “cycles” distincts, parallèles et comprenant
Anth
chacun quatre classes : d’une part, le cycle “Saai”
formé des classes Saai, Nyambureti, Gamunyere
et Maina ; d’autre part, le cycle “Chuuma” formé
des classes Chuuma, Gorongoro, Gini et Nyan-
gi. Le cycle Saai passait pour avoir une certaine
prééminence rituelle sur l’autre (Ruel 1962:20).
L’ordre dans lequel étaient successivement ins-
tituées les huit classes kuria était le suivant :
Saai —> Gorongoro —> Nyambureti —> Gini —> Ga-
munyere —> Nyangi —> Maina —> Chuuma (18, 24).
Tous les noms kuria directement reconnaissables
- par exemple, Saai équivalait au Sawe kalen-
jin - conservaient la même position que dans
la séquence kalenjin. Les noms Nyambureti, Gini
et Gamunyere correspondaient respectivement aux
appellations Kipkoimet, Kaplelach et Kimnyike de
la terminologie nandi-kipsigis.
Proches voisins méridionaux des Kuria et éga-
lement bantous, les Zanaki de la Tanzanie avaient
un système analogue : deux “cycles” de quatre
classes nommés Sai et Zuma (Bischofberger 1972 :
25). Dans ce cas-ci, c’est toutefois le cycle Zu-
ma qu’on disait “sénior” par rapport à Sai (26 ;
Table 1).
Table 1 : Les deux cycles de classes générationnelles
chez les Zanaki
Cycle “Zuma” Cycle “Sai”
Zuma Sai
Mirabi Nyambureti
Gini Gamunyari
Nyangi Mena
Les vieillards zanaki se rappelaient d’un autre nom
pour la classe Mirabi : nul autre que Ngurun-
guru (Bischofberger 1972 ; 25, note 1). Ce nom,
disaient-ils, ne venait pas des Kuria. Réciproque-
ment, certains sous-groupes kuria utilisaient l’ap-
pellation Mairabe plutôt que Gorongoro (Ruel
1962:18).
Tant chez les Kuria que chez les Zanaki, le
système de classes avait une structure génération-
nelle. Ainsi, en pays kuria, les classes successives
d’un même cycle - par exemple Saai et Nyam-
bureti (ou Gorongoro et Gini) - étaient respec-
tivement formées de pères et de fils (leurs fils). A
l’intérieur d’un même cycle, les classes alternées
- disons Saai et Gamunyere (ou Gorongoro et Ny-
angi) - étaient respectivement formées de grands-
pères et de petits-fils. Selon Ruel (1962:18),
“l’équivalence des classes alternées est admise par
les Kuria, qui disent que leurs membres respectifs
forment ‘une classe’ (ou ‘une génération’), irikora
lroPos 101.2006
90
Robert Hazel
remwe.” Nous retrouvons ici le même scénario que
chez les Jie et Karimojong.18
Comme chez les Kalenjin, il ne devait rester
aucun survivant de la génération sociale homo-
nyme antécédente quand une nouvelle classe kuria
était instituée. La formule réciproque de salutation
pour deux personnes qui étaient dans cette situa-
tion exceptionnelle était “Va et disparaît!” (Ruel
1962 ; 18). Bref, à l’intérieur de chacun des deux
cycles générationnels kuria et zanaki, on retrouve
le système cyclique de quatre générations en vi-
gueur chez les Karimojong.
En prenant la série des huit classes des Sebei
- qui est identique à celle établie par Ehret pour
les proto-Kalenjin - et en la réaménageant en deux
“cycles” formés de classes alternées, on constate
que les classes Sowe et Chumo appartiennent à
deux séries différentes comme les classes Saai (ou
Saï) et Chuuma (ou Zuma) des Kuria et Zanaki
(Table 2).
Table 2 : Les huit classes sebei disposées en “cycles”
formées de classes alternées
Cycle A Cycle B
Sowe Koronkoro
Kwoimet Kablelaich
Nyikeao Nyonki
Maina Chumo
Quand on examine les huit noms de classe chez les
Kalenjin et chez les Kuria - Zanaki, on voit que
quatre noms étaient à peu près constants et que les
autres étaient sujets à d’importantes variations. En
suivant à gauche la notation d’Ehret pour les noms
kalenjin, les noms variables sont :
Koronkoro
- Kipkoimet ;
Kaplelac :
Kimnyikeu19
nom plus ou moins disparu
chez les Nandi et Kipsigis;
remplacé ailleurs par Mirabi
(Zanaki) ou Mairabe (certains
sous-groupes kuria) ;
remplacé par Kaberur chez
les Marakwet ; par Nyambureti
chez les Kuria et Zanaki ;
Gini chez les Kuria et Zanaki ;
remplacé par Merkutwa (Po-
kot) ou Gamunyere / Gamu-
nyari (Kuria et Zanaki).
- Nyonki :
Maina :
Chuma
- Saw e
On voit que ces noms variables constituent une
séquence correspondant à une moitié complète du
cycle kalenjin de huit noms. Quant aux noms
plus stables, ils forment eux aussi une séquence
commençant par Nyonki (qui suit Kimnyikeu) et se
terminant par Sawe, qui devance Koronkoro. Les
variantes se distinguent à peine des noms kalenjin
originels tels que reconstitués par le linguiste
Ehret ;
Nyongi (Elgeyo, Marakwet, Nandi
et Kipsigis) ; Nyongu ou Nyonge
(Pokot) ; Nyangi (Kuria et Zana-
ki); appellation toutefois disparue
chez les Kamasia, d’après Hun-
tingford (1969 ; 77) ;
Mena (Zanaki) ;20
Chumo (Elgeyo, Marakwet et Se-
bei), Jumo (Pokot), Juma (Nandi,
Kipsigis ainsi que Tiriki), Chuuma
(Kuria) et Zuma (Zanaki) ;
Sawe, Sowe, Sowa ou Sowi (Ka-
lenjin et Tiriki), Saai ou S ai (Ku-
ria et Zanaki).
L’invariance et la stabilité relatives de ces quatre
noms pourraient bien s’expliquer par leur ancien-
neté. L’hypothèse suivante paraît alors envisa-
geable : autrefois, le système de classes qui nous
intéresse n’avait que quatre classes, répondant aux
appellations Nyonki, Maina, Chuma et Sawe (ou à
des désignations approchantes) et se suivant dans
cet ordre.
Une légende rapportée par Mwanzi (1977 : 108)
accrédite ou presque ce scénario ; à l’origine, il n’y
avait que deux classes chez les Kipsigis, à savoir
Maina et Chuma ; la classe Sawe s’est ajoutée pat
la suite ; les autres sont venues plus tard. Rap'
pelons également la prééminence des noms Sawe
(Saai ou Sai) et Chuma (Chuuma ou Zuma) chez
les Kuria et Zanaki. Dans ces deux cas, le nom
porté par une classe est devenu le nom général des
quatre classes du même “cycle”.21 Cela pourrait
laisser entendre qu’il n’y avait à l’origine que deux
classes, comme le veut la légende kipsigis.
Élargissons maintenant notre champ de vision
et prenons en considération certains peuples ban-
tous du centre du Kenya. Chez les Kikuyu, c’est
la “rotation des générations” qui déterminait à
qui revenait le gouvernement d’une communauté
tribale divisée en deux catégories d’individus : (a)
18 Le mot kuria pour désigner les classes générationnelles,
irikora, est très proche de celui, riika ou rika, employé par
les Kikuyu et divers groupes du centre du Kenya apparentés
à eux (Kenyatta 1961:205; Lambert 1956:40; Glazier
1976 : 314). Voir plus bas.
19 Chez les Tiriki, cette classe était nommée Jimnigayi.
20 Chez les Tiriki, on disait Mayina. Leur classe Nyonki étal1
dite Nyonje.
21 De la même façon, une classe générationnelle jie était
généralement connue sous le nom de la première de ses
subdivisions (Gulliver 1953 : 149).
Anthropos 101.2006
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
91
les Mwangi et (b) les Maina, aussi dits Irungu
(Kenyatta 1961 ; 189). Les Mwangi et les Maina
se relayaient à la direction des affaires tribales tous
les 30 ou 40 ans (Muriuki 1974 : 117). L’affiliation
a l’une ou l’autre génération sociale était fonction
de la naissance ; “si une génération était Mwangi,
ses fils seraient appelés Maina, ses petits-fils
Mwangi et ainsi de suite” (Kenyatta 1961 : 189).
De même, dans les familles, un fils aîné portait
habituellement le même nom que son grand-père
(Muriuki 1974:117). L’identité des générations
alternées s’affirmait pareillement avec force chez
les Embu, voisins des Kikuyu, où, selon Lam-
bert (1956:42), “chaque nouvelle génération est
1 équivalent ou la répétition de celle de ses grands-
pères.”
Les appellations Mwangi et Maina auraient
été applicables avant tout aux générations kikuyu
vivantes ; les classes disparues recevaient un nom
faisant référence à une caractéristique marquante
du règne de chacune (Muriuki 1974 : 117 s.).22
Le nom Irungu n’était pas, semble-t-il, la
seule appellation synonyme. En effet, le nom de
Cuma (i.e., Chuma) a été donné à une génération
sociale kikuyu au début du XVIIIe siècle (Mu-
riuki 1974: 111). La séquence fournie par Lam-
bert (1956:41): Mwangi —> Irungu (autrement
dù Maina) —> Chuma, suggère que le nom de
Chuma était associé à Mwangi plutôt qu’à Maina.
Comme les noms Nyonki (ou Nyangi) et Chumo
^levaient d’un même “cycle” chez les Kuria et
^anaki (sans parler des Sebei et autres Kalenjin
aYant un système à huit classes), il y a lieu de
demander si l’appellation Mwangi des Kikuyu
n otait pas équivalente aux noms Nyonki - Nyangi
Variante kuria-zanaki) et Nyonki (variante kalen-
JU1).23
^ Selon Lambert (1956:40 s.), outre l’alternance des deux
noms les plus courants, certains sous-groupes kikuyu
connaissaient un cycle plus long à huit générations. L’auteur
n en a pas dit davantage. Mais voir plus bas le cas des Embu
2^ et Mbeere.
kn similarité entre des termes kalenjin et kikuyu liés aux
rhes d’initiation témoigne de liens anciens entre les deux
groupes. Matuumo était le nom d’une danse des candidates
kikuyu à l’excision (Kenyatta 1961 : 138 s.). De plus, une
génération sociale a porté le nom de Matumo chez les
Chuka (Lambert 1956:44), une communauté proche des
Kikuyu. En kikuyu, ma- est souvent un préfixe ; ainsi, le
Pluriel de rika, “classe générationnelle”, est marika. Or,
en pays nandi, tum équivaut à “circoncision” (Huntingford
1953:65). Suivant Langley (1979: 17, note 11), tum
0u tumdo, le terme nandi pour “cérémonie”, s’appliquait
sPecialement à l’excision ou à la circoncision. Cela se
purifiait aussi chez les Kipsigis (Peristiany 1939 : 6, note 1).
n milieu sebei, on battait le “tambour”, tumdo, lors des
Clrconcisions (Goldschmidt 1976:276).
ônth
Les Mbeere avaient un système générationnel
structurellement identique à celui des Kuria et
des Zanaki ; deux “cycles” parallèles compre-
nant quatre classes chacun (Glazier 1976:317).
À l’intérieur de chaque “cycle”, deux noms se
succédaient perpétuellement en alternance, soit
Kinyari et Ivate dans le cas du “cycle” Thathi
(317). Les classes générationnelles dites, par
exemple, Kinyari correspondaient, selon un modèle
familier, à des générations alternées : grands-
parents / petits enfants. Il en allait de même
dans le cas des générations alternées nommées
Ivate. L’autre “cycle” était baptisé Nyangi et
ce nom était, en outre, l’un des deux noms
utilisés en alternance dans le “cycle” du même
nom.
Chez les Embu aussi, l’un des deux cycles por-
tait le nom de Nyangi selon Lambert (1956:45),
encore que Saberwal (1970:51) a émis certains
doutes sur ce point du fait qu’il n’y avait plus
moyen dans les années 1960 de valider cette in-
formation. Les générations sociales embu rece-
vaient ou se donnaient successivement plusieurs
noms au cours de leur carrière. Certains informa-
teurs ont néanmoins dit à Saberwal qu’il n’y avait
que deux noms qui alternaient dans une même
“division” ou cycle, chaque nom s’appliquant à
un binôme grands-pères / petits-fils (1970:53).
Quoi qu’il en soit, il est certain que le nom
Nyangi était étroitement associé à l’un des deux
cycles embu. D’après Lambert (1956 : 45), le nom
Irungu - familier aux Kikuyu - était l’un des
noms récurrents dans l’autre cycle embu, appelé
Kimanthi.
En mettant les données kikuyu, mbeere et embu
en parallèle, on voit s’établir une équivalence
entre, d’une part, les noms Maina (Kikuyu) et
Kimanthi (Embu) et, d’autre part, les noms Nyangi
(Embu - Mbeere) et Mwangi (Kikuyu).
Notre incursion chez les populations bantoues
du centre du Kenya confirme, en premier lieu,
l’ancienneté et la stabilité des noms de Nyonki
(avec ses variantes Nyangi et Mwangi) et Mai-
na, mais aussi celles du nom de Chuma, présent
chez les Kikuyu. Elle tend, en deuxième lieu,
à conforter l’hypothèse que le système père (ou
mère) comportait un plus petit nombre de noms
de classe que huit, probablement quatre, mais
peut-être deux seulement. Et si, il y a plusieurs
siècles, ce système n’avait au départ que deux
noms, il est quasi certain que Nyonki était l’une
des deux appellations primordiales puisque celle-
ci est restée en usage non seulement chez les
Kalenjin, mais aussi chez divers groupes ban-
tous ; Kikuyu du centre du Kenya, Kuria et
Topos 101.2006
92
Robert Hazel
Zanaki des confins du Kenya et Tiriki (voisins des
Nandi).24 *
Notre incursion dans le centre du Kenya ren-
force, troisièmement, la probabilité que le système
père était de type générationnel. En effet, les
systèmes de classes des Kikuyu, Mbeere et Em-
bu, d’une part, et, d’autre part, ceux des Ku-
ria et Zanaki étaient typiquement générationnels,
contrairement à ceux des Kalenjin, encore que,
comme nous le verrons à l’instant, les systèmes
kalenjin comportaient des traces importantes de
“générationalité”, si l’on peut employer ce néolo-
gisme. Dans un cadre générationnel, une structure
à deux classes (Jie), quatre classes (Karimojong ;
chacun des “cycles” kuria, zanaki et mbeere) ou
encore huit classes (les deux “cycles” kuria, zanaki
et mbeere mis ensemble) paraît plus logique ;
Modèle I : deux classes générationnelles
Dans cette séquence, il y a une génération de Pères (au
pouvoir) et une génération de Fils. La génération des
Petits-Fils (aussi appelée Aj) vient remplacer celle de
ses grands-pères selon le principe de l’équivalence des
générations alternées. Ce modèle n’exclut pas qu’une
troisième classe, celle des grands-pères, puisse subsister
à titre honorifique (cas des Jie). Mais le maintien de la
classe des grands-pères dans le système générationnel
vient quelque peu brouiller les cartes. En effet, le statut
de la classe des Pères n’est plus aussi clair. En tant
que fils d’une génération plus ancienne, ils n’ont pas le
monopole de la “paternité institutionnelle”.
Souscrivaient à ce modèle les Jie, Karimojong et
d’autres groupes Ateker (dont sans doute les Dodoth),
ainsi que les Kikuyu. Les Karimojong ont “enrichi” le
modèle comme suit :
(Aj)1 —> (Bj)1 —> (Aj)2 —> (Bj)2.
24 On retrouvait la trace des noms Nyonki-Nyangi-Mwangi
et Maina jusque chez les Maasai. Les membres d’une
classe d’âge maasai étaient dits, en alternance, Il-maina ou
ll-manki (Ole Sankan 1970 ; 33 s.). La classe guerrière et la
classe des parrains rituels de celle-ci, autrement dit les deux
classes qui occupaient le devant de la scène à un moment
donné, étaient soit Manki, soit Maina. Selon Ole Sankan
(33 s.), chaque courant avait sa mythologie, sa personnalité
et ses traditions particulières, les ll-manki ayant été plus
résolument tournés vers la guerre que les Il-maina. Chaque
classe d’âge avait aussi un nom particulier et certains noms
propres avaient tendance à se répéter à l’intérieur de chaque
courant. Il y avait également chez les Samburu du Kenya,
un groupe proche des Maasai, des liens mystiques, voire
une communauté de destin, entre une classe guerrière et
la classe d’aînés chargée de la parrainer (Spencer 1965 :
151).
Modèle II : quatre classes générationnelles
Deux binômes semblables, leurs éléments étant intégrés
et disposées en alternance :
A j —> B j —> A2 —> B 2
Dans cette séquence, les A2 sont les fils des et les B2
ceux des Bj. Le retour, après B2, des A] (autrement dit
du nom Aj) marque l’entrée en scène des petits-fils des
premiers A} ; le retour ensuite des Bj marque l’entrée
en scène des petits-fils des premiers Bj.
Chacun des “cycles” des Kuria, Zanaki, Mbeere et Embu
illustrait ce modèle à la perfection.
Modèle III : huit classes générationnelles (répétition
du modèle II donnant un autre modèle)
A j —^ B j —^ A 2 —^ B 2 —^ A3 —^ B 3 —y Aj —^ Bj
Dans ce cas-ci, le retour, après B4, des A, marque
l’entrée en scène des petits-fils des A3, qui sont aussi
les arrière-arrière petits-fils (génération 1 +4 = 5) des
premiers Aj ; le retour des B, marque pareillement
l’entrée en scène des petits-fils des B3 et des arrière-
arrière petits-fils des Bj.
Les deux “cycles” mis ensemble des Kuria, Zanaki,
Mbeere, etc. correspondaient à ce modèle.
À la différence du modèle I, les modèles II et
III sont constitués de ce que nous pouvons ap-
peler deux “courants” de classes générationnelles,
chacun étant formé de générations engendrées les
unes par les autres. Dans le cas du modèle II,
les séries [Aj - A2] et [Bj - B2] constituent deux
courants générationnels. Dans le modèle III, les
séries [Aj - A2 - A3 - A4 - Aj, etc.] et [Bj - B2 -
B3-B4-Bj, etc.] correspondent aussi à deux
courants générationnels. La notion de “courant
générationnel” équivaut à ce que, chez les eth-
nologues anglophones, on appelle génération-s et
line. Les deux “cycles” kuria, zanaki et mbeere
sont, en fait, deux courants générationnels en
voie de devenir ou déjà devenus synchrones.
Dans nombre de systèmes de classes d’âge ou
de classes générationnelles de l’Est africain, Ü
existe un décalage d’un certain nombre d’années
entre la création de classes successives, donc entre
courants contigus {génération-s et Unes ou age-set
Unes). Nous avons d’ailleurs relevé, à propos des
Kuria et Zanaki, que l’un des deux “cycles” on
courants générationnels conservait une certaine
préséance sur l’autre. Chez les Kuria, une classe du
courant sénior était, disait-on, instituée quelques
années avant la classe correspondante de l’autre
courant.
Il nous reste deux points significatifs à relever
en ce qui concerne les systèmes générationnels
Anthropos 101.2006
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
93
des Kikuyu et des groupes bantous du centre du
Kenya apparentés à eux. Le premier est que leurs
classes générationnelles passaient pour disposer de
certains pouvoirs sur le cours des choses. Chez
les Chuka, les deux cycles étaient dits Nyangi et
Thathi, comme en pays mbeere, immédiatement
au sud. Selon une tradition orale chuka, il y
a bien longtemps, une terrible sécheresse força
nombre de gens à se disperser ; “la génération
Thura des Nyangi avait déjà remis le pouvoir aux
Kjuki et, alors que sévissait la famine, les Thura
Persuadèrent la génération Matumo des Thathi
de confier le plus tôt possible les pouvoirs à la
génération de leurs fils (les Ikuthi) afin de conjurer
la terrible sécheresse. Cette passation des pouvoirs
fut suivie de fortes pluies ... C’est que les Ithuki,
aussitôt au pouvoir, avaient fait un sacrifice pour
qu’il pleuve. De nos jours encore, il appartient aux
classes Thathi de faire un sacrifice pour appeler les
Pluies d’octobre et aux Nyangi d’en faire autant
P°ur les pluies de mars” (Lambert 1956:44).
Apparemment, la génération Matumo avait dans
le cycle Thathi une position équivalente à celle
des Thura dans le cycle, probablement sénior,
Nyangi. Chez les Embu, les générations en position
dominante avaient aussi des pouvoirs sur la pluie
(Saberwal 1970:66 s.).
Notre second point se rapporte à la portée
historique des systèmes de classes des Bantous
du centre du Kenya. Selon Saberwal (1970:53),
un historien cherchant [en pays embu] à dater
es événements du passé en se fiant aux noms
hes classes générationnelles” ne manquerait pas
d être déçu. Du fait de la répétition indéfinie des
bernes noms dans chacun des deux cycles, il était
Uifficile de savoir si un événement était survenu il
^ a “deux, quatre ou six générations” (53). Nous
av°ns vu que la même situation avait cours chez
les Kalenjin.25
En milieu kikuyu, la situation se présentait
toutefois sous un jour nettement plus favorable.
.est que, tel que vu plus haut, les noms Mwan-
et Maina (ou Irungu) étaient réservés avant
°üt aux générations en place, les générations
aVant déjà porté l’un ou l’autre de ces noms
Recevant un surnom peu après avoir complété
eUr période de 30 ou 40 ans au pouvoir. C’est
tousi que, dans ses recherches sur l’histoire des
dcuyu, Muriuki (1974: 135) a pu se servir du
jAstèrne générationnel comme guide. Selon Lam-
ert> tos périodes durant lesquelles les classes
Selon Saberwal (1967), le système de classes d’âge des
yaasai était beaucoup plus utile pour reconstituer l’histoire
de
ce peuple que celui, générationnel, des Embu.
Anthi
,roPos 101.2006
générationnelles kikuyu ont successivement exercé
le pouvoir se comparent aux règnes des rois dans
les sociétés monarchiques ; dans les deux cas, on se
rappelait des événements importants de l’histoire
tribale en les mettant en parallèle avec les classes
ou les rois alors au pouvoir (rapporté par Muriuki
1974: 135).
Revenons maintenant aux systèmes de classes
d’âge kalenjin. Il est aisé de mettre en évidence
leur caractère pseudo ou quasi générationnel.
En effet, il existait bel et bien une relation
d’engendrant/engendré entre classes alternées:
idéalement, les fils d’une classe, disons la classe
des Maina, étaient des Sawe ; cela se vérifiait plus
particulièrement à propos des fils aînés.26 Or, ces
fils constituent des représentants exemplaires de
toute nouvelle génération masculine. Chez les El-
geyo, les Sawe, par exemple, étaient globalement
réputés “fils des Maina". De même, en pays tiriki,
Sangree (1966 : 76) a constaté que la majorité des
hommes appartenaient à la classe d’âge qui inter-
venait deux rangs après celui de leurs pères. Cet
ethnologue a d’ailleurs décrit le système de classes
d’âge des Tiriki comme “un système de groupes
d’âge semi-générationnels” (Sangree 1966 :46).27
Les systèmes kalenjin demeurés fidèles à la
norme ancestrale de huit classes n’étaient donc
pas très éloignés du modèle III. L’examen des
systèmes nandi et kipsigis à sept classes a révélé
qu’ils comportaient autrefois huit classes, incluant
une classe du nom de Koronkoro.
Dans un système à sept classes, la logique
inhérente au modèle III ne peut plus s’exprimer
aussi bien. Revoici la série nandi-kipsigis : Sawe -»
Kipkoimet —> Kaplelach -A Kimnyike —> Nyangi —>
Maina —> Juma. Supposons que nous sommes au
tout début de l’histoire des Nandi et Kipsigis et
donc que les deux premières classes, Sawe et
Kipkoimet, correspondent à la génération initiale
26 Massam 1927 : 54, 56; Welboum 1967 : 214 ; Goldschmidt
1976 : 106 ; Peristiany 1975 ; 180.
27 Mollis (1909) et Fosbrooke (1956) ont utilisé le terme de
“génération” pour l’unité formée chez les Maasai par la
fusion des deux sous-classes d’âge successives, ol-poror
(sing.). De plus, les classes d’âge - fusionnées, ol-aje
(sing.) - alternées maasai étaient en rapport de filiation
rituelle. Or, le fils aîné d’un homme faisait idéalement
partie d’une classe alternée (Fosbrooke 1956: 188). Chez
divers groupes kalenjin, une classe d’âge avait 20 ans, au
sortir de sa phase guerrière, pour engendrer des fils avant
que ne soit instituée la classe alternée. Dans un système
à deux courants, un intervalle entre classes successives
de 15 ans ou moins compromettait la norme voulant que
les fils premiers nés d’un groupe d’hommes appartiennent
à la classe alternée. Les Maasai illustraient bien cette
difficulté.
94
Robert Hazel
(génération 1) de leur courant respectif, dans
ce cas-ci non nommés, mais que nous avons
affecté des lettres A et B. La génération 2 sera
Kaplelach (courant A) ou Kimnyike (courant B) ;
la génération 3 sera connue sous le nom de
Nyongi (courant A) ou Maina (courant B) ; la
génération 4 sera nommée Juma (courant A) ou
Sawe (courant B) ; la génération 5 portera le nom
de Kipkoimet (courant A) ou Kaplelach (courant
B) ; et ainsi de suite. On voit que les arrière-
arrière petits-fils (génération 1+4 = 5) des Sawe
seront appelés Kipkoimet (courant B) plutôt que
Sawe (courant A) et que ceux des Kipkoimet
(courant B) ne seront pas des Kipkoimet, comme
ce serait le cas dans un cycle normal de huit
noms incluant Koronkoro, mais bien des Kaplelach
(courant A). La quasi générationalité du système
kalenjin se dilue d’autant, même si l’on continuait
à penser chez les Nandi et Kipsigis que le fils
aîné d’un homme devait faire partie de la classe
alternée qui suivait la sienne (Peristiany 1939 : 30 ;
Huntingford 1953 : 60 s.).28
Retenons que le système kalenjin comprenait
autrefois huit noms, que ces huit noms englobaient
quatre générations et que le retour d’un nom de
classe, par exemple Koronkoro, correspondait à
l’entrée en scène d’une cinquième génération.
Cyclicité et générations
Le glissement qui se serait opéré chez les Ka-
lenjin - et de manière plus achevée chez les
Nandi et Kipsigis - d’un système originellement
générationnel vers un système constitué de classes
d’âge n’est pas unique dans les annales de l’Est
africain. Le système de classes d’âge des Maa-
sai, dont nous avons vu en notes complémentaires
(note 24 et note 27) qu’il conservait des traces
significatives de “générationalité”, paraît avoir
connu une évolution similaire. D’autres exemples
semblent accréditer la primauté historique, en
Afrique de l’Est, des systèmes générationnels sur
les systèmes de classes d’âge. Nous pensons en
particulier au cas des Turkana, une population
de type Ateker, et à celui des Boran, un peuple
couchitique (donc non nilotique) des confins de
l’Ethiopie et du Kenya.29
28 On retrouvait chez les Boran du sud de l’Éthiopie et du
nord du Kenya un cycle à sept noms, très différents des
appellations kalenjin. Mais ce cycle se réalisait dans le
cadre d’un système comprenant cinq courants de classes
générationnelles.
29 Nous avons également à l’esprit le cas des Kikuyu que nous
ne pouvons pas traiter faute d’espace.
En pays turkana, les deux générations d’autre-
fois, “Les Pierres” et “Les Léopards”, sont deve-
nues à peu près synchrones, formant deux “alter-
nations” (Gulliver 1958) comparables, à certains
égards, aux “cycles” des Embu, Mbeere, Chuka,
Kuria et Zanaki. Chacune des deux “alternations”
turkana comprenait aussi bien des pères que des
fils, contrairement à ce qu’il en était chez les Jie
- dont les Turkana tenaient, dit-on, leur système
de classes -, où tous les pères étaient du côté de
la génération sociale des Pères du pays et tous
les fils du côté des Fils du pays. Chacune des
deux “alternations” turkana était constituée non
seulement de pères et de fils de membres de l’autre
“alternation”, mais aussi de classes formées uni-
quement d’hommes de même âge. Ces dernières
étaient instituées en parallèle, autrement dit plus ou
moins en même temps, dans chaque “alternation”.
Lamphear (1989) et Müller-Dempf (1991) ont for-
mulé des hypothèses sur les accidents de parcours
responsables du glissement du système turkana
vers un modèle sans antécédence d’une génération
sociale sur l’autre, ni ordre hiérarchique autre
que l’ancienneté des classes d’âge à l’intérieur
de chaque “alternation”.30 L’abandon du classe-
ment hiérarchique des générations a lui-même
débouché sur une fusion des générations alternées
dans chaque “alternation”, ce qui constituait une
réalisation extrême du principe de l’identité des
grands-pères et des petits-fils.
Dans le cas des Boran, des classes d’âge
ont été formées en marge des générations so-
ciales pour encadrer le nombre croissant de jeunes
hommes devenus avec le temps complètement
déphasés (underaged) par rapport à leur classe
générationnelle d’appartenance. Il s’agissait, par
exemple, d’individus nés après que leur classe
avait exercé la dernière des fonctions attribuées
à toute classe générationnelle au cours de sa vie
active de 80 ans. Dans ce cas-ci, les classes d’âge
constituaient un mécanisme compensatoire et com-
plémentaire par rapport au système générationnel
Gada.
Mais l’objet de cette étude n’est pas tant de
théoriser sur la transformation des systèmes de
classes générationnelles de l’Est africain que de
mettre en évidence leurs principes structuraux. Le
premier de ces principes est la disjonction et la
polarisation institutionnelle des pères et des fils ’
le deuxième est leur regroupement en deux classes
distinctes bien décalées dans le temps et forcément
30 II subsistait néanmoins une vague prééminence de l’une des
deux “alternations” sur l’autre, en l’occurrence des Pierres
sur les Léopards (Gulliver 1958 : 903).
Anthropos 101.2006
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
95
hiérarchisées ; le troisième est l’identification de
la génération sociale des petits-fils à celle des
grands-pères ; le quatrième est la division de la
communauté tribale en deux ou plusieurs cou-
rants de classes générationnelles, chacun repre-
nant à son compte les trois principes fondamen-
taux. Ce dernier principe était facultatif dans la
mesure où un seul courant générationnel pouvait
suffire.
Nous avons vu que les systèmes de classes des
Jie, Karimojong et Kikuyu n’avaient qu’un seul
courant générationnel, alors que ceux des Kuria-
Zanaki et Embu-Mbeere étaient structurés en deux
courants correspondant, chacun, à un de leurs
cycles”. Nous avons vu aussi que les systèmes
de classes kalenjin étaient de ce type, même si
leur caractère générationnel s’était dilué.
Ressort fondamental de tous les systèmes géné-
rationnels de l’Est africain, le troisième principe,
^elui de l’identité des générations alternées, était
a l’origine même de toute cyclicité et de toute
conception répétitive de l’histoire. Ce principe se
rcalisait au premier degré, mais aussi, si l’on peut
hite, au second degré, comme nous l’avons vu
dans les modèles II (un seul courant générationnel)
et III (deux courants générationnels). Dans la
buccession des générations, la génération X + 4
etait non seulement une réédition de la génération
^ + 2, mais aussi la répétition d’une génération
Plus ancienne encore, en l’occurrence X.
Dans certains systèmes de classes, en particu-
|ler chez les Kuria-Zanaki-Embu-Mbeere et chez
les Kalenjin, le principe 3 s’appliquait avant tout
au second degré : (X + 4) = X. Ces systèmes de
basses à deux courants se caractérisaient par (a)
des intervalles plus courts entre la création de
basses successives et donc (b) une rotation plus
rapide des “générations” que chez les lie, Kari-
î^pjong et Kikuyu. Il était plus difficile d’appliquer
1Cl le principe 3 au premier degré car il fallait au
^°ins attendre que tous les membres d’une classe
et même leurs femmes) soient décédés avant que
e uorn de cette classe ne soit réutilisable.
Dans tout cela, les Turkana faisaient figure
e*ception. En éliminant toute hiérarchie entre
j asses générationnelles, en ne distinguant plus
es générations alternées et en mettant en scène
eux “alternations” invariantes, leur système de
^ asses a pour ainsi dire aboli toute possibilité
^üne histoire récurrente, sinon, quoique sous une
^ rme atténuée, à l’intérieur des “alternations” et
PPC dans le cadre de la succession des classes
age comprises dans chacune d’elles.
Génération, cyclicité et histoire en Afrique
de l’Est
Il ressort de cette étude des systèmes de classes des
Nilotiques orientaux (lie, Karimojong, etc., voire
les populations de type maasai), des Nilotiques
méridionaux (Nandi, Kipsigis, Sebei et autres),
des Bantous du sud-ouest du Kenya (Kuria et
groupes apparentés) et des Bantous du centre
du Kenya (Kikuyu, Mbeere, Embu, etc.) que les
notions de succession des générations, cyclicité et
histoire se compénétraient au point de constituer
un pan important de la signification culturelle des
systèmes de classes d’âge.
En conclusion, nous proposons d’élargir la
portée de ces notions à des peuples de la même
grande région de l’Afrique qui ne disposaient
d’aucun système de classes d’âge : les Gusii du
Kenya et les Banyarwanda du Rwanda.
Proches voisins des Kipsigis et Nandi, les Gu-
sii du sud-ouest du Kenya étaient organisés en
clans, chacun de ces derniers occupant un sec-
teur géographique donné. Néanmoins, ces gens
avaient une mémoire généalogique assez courte :
ils n’attachaient aucune importance à leurs ancêtres
au-delà de la quatrième génération (Mayer 1965 :
370). Ils ne se reconnaissaient aucune parenté ef-
fective entre eux quand les liens sociaux remon-
taient plus loin.
En pays gusii, quatre générations formaient
un tout et le terme employé pour désigner cet
ensemble était riiga (Mayer 1965 ; 370). Ce mot
ressemble, à s’y méprendre, aux appellations uti-
lisées pour désigner les classes générationnelles
chez les Bantous du centre du Kenya : rika ou
riika, mais aussi à irikora, l’appellation en vigueur
chez les Kuria.31 Or, chez ces derniers peuples,
les classes générationnelles étaient souvent re-
groupées en deux cycles parallèles comprenant
chacun quatre générations. Ils ne reconnaissaient
pas vraiment une cinquième génération puisque
celle-ci passait pour la réédition d’une autre, plus
ancienne. Cela dit, on ne rapporte aucune trace de
vision cyclique de l’histoire chez les Gusii.
Il en allait tout autrement dans les royaumes
des Grands Lacs africains, en particulier au Rwan-
da. Ici, le nouveau roi adoptait l’un ou l’autre
de quatre noms dynastiques : Mutara, Kigeri, Mi-
bambwe et Yuhi.32 Les noms royaux se suivaient
dans cet ordre depuis le XVIIe siècle. Cela veut
31 Voir la note 18. Dans la langue des Gusii, riiga signifie
“pierre” (Mayer 1965 : 371).
32 Le premier nom avait un équivalent : Cyirima, qui était
utilisé en alternance avec Mutava.
^nth
lroPos 101.2006
96
Robert Hazel
dire que, pour prendre un exemple, Yuhi IV (fin du
XIXe siècle - début du XXe) était l’arrière-arrière
petit-fils de Yuhi III.
Les deuxième et troisième noms dynastiques :
Kigeri et Mibambwe, étaient “portés par des
rois “guerriers” pouvant circuler partout dans
le royaume et à l’étranger” (D’Hertefelt 1962 :
70 s.). Le premier et le dernier noms étaient ceux
de rois “pacifiques” qui, sauf circonstances ex-
ceptionnelles expressément prévues par le code
dynastique, “ne pouvaient franchir la rivière Nya-
barongo qui décrit une boucle autour des pro-
vinces centrales” du royaume (70). Bref, un cycle
commençait et se terminait par un roi associé avant
tout à la paix et à la prospérité économique en agri-
culture comme en élevage. Tout se passe comme
si les forces du royaume devaient se replier sur
le Rwanda central après avoir été affaiblies par
la guerre ou avant de se relancer à l’assaut des
royaumes voisins (Heusch 1982 : 161). Comme l’a
écrit le même auteur (113), le cycle dynastique a
instauré “l’histoire répétitive, le perpétuel recom-
mencement d’une structure temporelle fixée une
fois pour toutes par l’action magique du rituel.”
Ainsi, le destin des rois guerriers, particulièrement
ceux nommés Mibambwe, était de mourir jeunes
plutôt que de vivre longtemps, comme ce devait
être le cas des rois pacifiques.
En comparant le cycle dynastique rwandais
aux systèmes de classes de l’Est africain, on
constate tout d’abord une identité structurelle avec
les systèmes de classes générationnelles compor-
tant un seul et unique courant: les rois qui se
succédaient appartenaient tous, en principe, à une
seule et même lignée, celle du fondateur my-
thique de la dynastie. On constate également que
chacun des deux binômes formés par Mutara et
Mibambwe, d’une part, et, d’autre part, par Kige-
ri et Yuhi, comprend un roi pacifique et un roi
guerrier (ou inversement), ce qui semble aller à
l’encontre du principe de l’identité des générations
alternées. Il est clair toutefois que ce principe
s’appliquait avant tout au second degré: identité
de la génération X (par exemple Yuhi III) avec la
génération X + 4 (Yuki IV). C’est que, peut-être,
les règnes de certains rois, en particulier les rois
guerriers, pouvaient être d’assez courte durée.
L’auteur tient à remercier le professeur Jean-Claude
Muller, du département d’anthropologie à l’Université
de Montréal, pour son soutien et ses encouragements.
Références citées
Barton, Juxon
1923 Notes on the Kipsikis or Lumbwa Tribe of Kenya
Colony. The Journal of the Royal Anthropological In-
stitute of Great Britain and Ireland 53: 42-79.
Baxter, P. T. W., and Uri Almagor
1978 Introduction. In: P. T. W. Baxter and U. Almagor (eds.),
Age, Generation, and Time. Some Features of East
African Age Organisations; pp. 1-35. London: C. Hurst.
Beech, Mervyn W. H.
1911 The Suk. Their Language and Folklore. Oxford: Claren-
don Press.
Beidelman, T. O.
1965 Some Baraguyu Cattle Songs. Journal of African Lan-
guages 4: 1-18.
Bernardi, Bernardo
1952 The Age-System of the Nilo-Hamitic Peoples. A Criti-
cal Evaluation. Africa 22: 316-332.
1985 Age Class Systems. Social Institutions and Polities
Based on Age. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Bischofberger, Otto
1972 The Generation Classes of the Zanaki (Tanzania). Fri-
bourg: The University Press. (Studia Ethnographica
Friburgensia, 1)
Blackburn, Roderic H.
1974 The Okiek and Their History. Azania 9: 139-157.
D’Hertefelt, Marcel
1962 Le Rwanda. In: M. D’Hertefelt, A. A. Trouwborst et
J. H. Scherer (éds.), Les anciens royaumes de la zone
interlacustre méridionale Rwanda, Burundi, Buha; pp-
9-112. Tervuren: Musée royal de l’Afrique centrale-
(Monographies ethnographiques, 6)
Dyson-Hudson, Neville
1963 The Karimojong Age System. Ethnology 2: 353-401-
1966 Karimojong Politics. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Ehret, Christopher
1971 Southern Nilotic History. Linguistic Approaches to the
Study of the Past. Evanston: Northwestern University
Press.
Eisenstadt, S. N.
1954 African Age Groups. A Comparative Study. Africa 24:
100-113.
Fosbrooke, H. A.
1956 The Masai Age-Group System as a Guide to Tribal
Chronology. African Studies 15: 188-206.
Galaty, John Gordon
1977 In the Pastoral Image. The Dialectic of Maasai Identity-
Chicago. [Unpublished Ph. D. Dissertation, Dept.
Anthropology, University of Chicago]
Glazier, Jack
1976 Generation Classes among the Mbeere of Central
Kenya. Africa 46: 313-326.
Goldschmidt, Walter
1976 Culture and Behavior of the Sebei. A Study in Contint'
ity and Adaptation. Berkeley: University of California
Press.
Anthropos 101.2006
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est
97
Gulliver, Philip H.
1952 Bell-Oxen and Ox-Names among the Jie. The Uganda
Journal 16; 72-75.
1953 The Age-Set Organization of the Jie Tribe. The Journal
of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain
and Ireland 83: 147-168.
1955 The Family Herds. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
1958 The Turkana Age Organization. American Anthropolo-
gist 60: 900-922.
1965 The Jie of Uganda. In: J. L. Gibbs, Jr. (ed.), Peoples
of Africa; pp. 157-196. New York; Holt, Rinehart, and
Winston.
Hazel, Robert
1997 Robes colorées et comes déformées. Les pasteurs est-
africains et leurs bœufs de parade. Anthropologie et
Sociétés 21/2-3: 67-85.
1999 La circoncision en pays maasai et borana. Guerre,
procreation et virilité en Afrique orientale. Cahiers
d’Études africaines 39/154: 293-336.
2000 Segregating and Timing Generations. Social Organiza-
tion in Cushitic East Africa and Beyond. Zeitschrift für
Ethnologie 125: 1-37.
Heusch, Luc de
1982 Rois nés d’un cœur de vache. Paris: NRF Gallimard.
(Mythes et rites bantous, 2)
Hollis, A. C.
1909 The Nandi. Their Language and Folk-Lore. Oxford:
Clarendon Press. [Ré-imprimé en 1969 avec une nou-
velle introduction de G. W. B. Huntingford]
Huntingford, G. W. B
953 The Nandi of Kenya. Tribal Control in a Pastoral
Society. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
969 The Southern Nilo-Hamites, London: International Afri-
can Institute. (Ethnographie Survey of Africa, East
Central Africa, 8) [lère édition 1953]
■J^sen, Adolf E.
y'4 Das Gada-System der Konso und die Altersklassen-
Systeme der Niloten. Ethnos 19: 1-23.
^ossam, Aneesa
^6 The Fertile Past. The Gabra Concept of Oral Tradition.
Africa 56: 193-209.
95 Gabra. New York: The Rosen Publishing Group.
^enyatta, Jomo
^1 Facing Mount Kenya. The Tribal Life of the Gikuyu.
London: Seeker and Warburg. [lère édition 1938]
J^ertzer, David I.
° Theoretical Developments in the Study of Age-Group
Systems. American Ethnologist 5; 368-374.
feml'Toru
° Peacemakers, Prophets, Chiefs & Warriors. Age-Set
Antagonisms as a Factor of Political Change among
the Kipsigis of Kenya. In: E. Kurimoto and S. Simonse
(eds.); pp. 186-205.
K
I (w?010*0» Eisei, and Simon Simonse (eds.)
° Conflict, Age & Power in North East Africa. Age
Systems in Transition. Oxford: James Currey.
^bert, H.E.
Kikuyu Social and Political Institutions. London: Ox-
ford University Press.
Lamphear, John
1976 The Traditional History of the Jie of Uganda. Oxford;
Clarendon Press.
1989 Historical Dimensions of Dual Organization. The Gener-
ation-Class System of the Jie and the Turkana. In;
D. Maybury-Lewis and U. Almagor (eds.), The Attrac-
tion of Opposites. Thought and Society in the Dualistic
Mode; pp. 235-254. Ann Arbor: The University of
Michigan Press.
Lang’at, S. C.
1969 Some Aspects of Kipsigis History before 1914. In:
B. G. McIntosh (ed.), Ngano; pp. 72-93. Nairobi: East
African Publishing House. (Nairobi Historical Studies,
1. Dept, of History - University College)
Langley, Myrtle S.
1979 The Nandi of Kenya. Life Crisis Rituals in a Period of
Change. London: C. Hurst.
Lattman River, Madeline
1980 The Conditions Favoring Age-Set Organization. Jour-
nal of Anthropological Research 36: 87-104.
Laughlin, Charles D., and Elizabeth R. Laughlin
1974 Age Generations and Political Process in So. Africa 44:
266-279.
Legesse, Asmarom
1963 Class Systems Based on Time. Journal of Ethiopian
Studies 1/2: 1-29.
Manners, Robert A.
1967 The Kipsigis of Kenya. Culture Change in a “Model”
East African Tribe. In: J. H. Steward (ed.), Contem-
porary Change in Traditional Societies. Vol. 1: Three
African Tribes in Transition; pp. 205-359. Urbana:
University of Illinois Press.
Marshall-Thomas, Elisabeth
1972 Warrior Herdsmen. New York: Vintage Books.
Massam, J. A.
1927 The Cliff Dwellers of Kenya. London: Seeley, Service,
and Co.
Mayer, Iona
1965 From Kinship to Common Descent. Four-Generation
Genealogies among the Gusii. Africa 35: 366-384.
Moore, Henrietta L.
1986 Space, Text, and Gender. An Anthropological Study
of the Marakwet of Kenya. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Mude, K. A.
1969 The Amaro-Burji of Southern Ethiopia. In: B. G. McIn-
tosh (ed.), Ngano; pp. 26-47. Nairobi: East African
Publishing House. (Nairobi Historical Studies, 1. Dept,
of History - University College)
Miiller-Dempf, Harald K.
1991 Generation-Sets. Stability and Change with Special
Reference to Toposa and Turkana Societies. Bulletin of
the School of Oriental and African Studies 54: 554-
567.
Muriuki, Godfrey
1974 A History of the Kikuyu: 1500-1900. Nairobi: Oxford
University Press.
^nth
lr°pos 101.2006
98
Robert Hazel
Mwanzi, Henry A.
1977 A History of the Kipsigis. Nairobi; East African Liter-
ature Bureau.
Nagashima, Nobuhiro
1998 Two Extinct Age Systems among the Iteso. In: E. Kuri-
moto and S. Simonse (eds.); pp. 227- 248.
Ole Sankan, S. S.
1970 The Maasai. Nairobi: East African Literature Bureau.
Omosule, Monone
1989 Kalenjin. The Emergence of a Corporate Name for
the “Nandi-Speaking Tribes” of East Africa. Genève-
Afrique 27/1: 73-88.
Orchardson, Ian Q.
1932-1933 Religious Beliefs and Practices of the Kipsigis.
Journal of the East Africa and Uganda Natural History
Society 47-48: 154-162.
1961 The Kipsigis. Nairobi: East African Literature Bureau.
[Consulté dans la 2e édition, abrégée et partiellement
réécrite par A. Matson, 1970]
Peatrik, Anne-Marie
1993 Age, génération et temps chez les Meru Tigania-Igembe
du Kenya. Africa 63: 241-260.
Peristiany, John G.
1939 The Social Institutions of the Kipsigis. London: Rout-
ledge & Kegan Paul.
1951 The Age-Set System of the Pastoral Pokot. The sapana
Initiation Ceremony. Africa 21: 188-206; 279-302.
1975 The Ideal and the Actual. The Role of Prophets in
the Pokot Political System. In: J. H. M. Beattie and
R. G. Lienhardt (eds.), Studies in Social Anthropology;
pp. 167-212. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Prins, A. H. J.
1953 East African Age-Class Systems. An Inquiry into the
Social Order of Galla, Kipsigis, and Kikuyu. Groningen:
J. B. Wolters.
Ruel, M. J.
1962 Kuria Generation Classes. Africa 32; 14-37.
Saberwal, Satish
1967 The Oral Tradition, Periodization, and Political Sys-
tems. Le Journal Canadien des Etudes Africaines 1:
155-162.
1970 The Traditional Political System of the Embu of Central
Kenya. Nairobi: East African Publishing House.
Sangree, Walter S.
1966 Age, Prayer, and Politics in Tiriki, Kenya. London:
Oxford University Press.
Schlee, Giinther
1989 Identities on the Move. Clanship and Pastoralism in
Northern Kenya. Manchester: Manchester University
Press.
1998 Gada Systems on the Meta-Ethnic Level. Gabbra/
Boran/Garre Interactions in the Kenyan/Ethiopian Bor-
derland. In; E. Kurimoto and S. Simonse (eds.); pp-
121-146.
Smith-Oboler, Regina
1985 Women, Power, and Economic Change. The Nandi of
Kenya. Standford: Stanford University Press.
Spencer, Paul
1965 The Samburu. A Study of Gerontocracy in a Nomadic
Tribe. London; Routledge & Kegan Paul.
1978 The lie Generation Paradox. In: P. T. W. Baxter and
U. Almagor (eds.), Age, Generation, and Time. Some
Features of East African Age Organisations; pp. 133 —
149. London: C. Hurst.
1998 The Pastoral Continuum. The Marginalization of Tradi-
tion in East Africa. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Stewart, Frank Henderson
1977 Fundamentals of Age-Group Systems. New York: Aca-
demic Press.
Tablino, Paul
1999 The Gabra. Camel Nomads of Northern Kenya. Limu-
ru (Kenya): Paulines Publications Africa. [Traduit de
l’italien (1980) par C. Salvador!]
Tornay, Serge A. M.
1982 Archéologie, ethno-histoire, ethnographie. Trois façons
de reconstruire le temps. In; J. Mack and P. RobertshaW
(eds.), Culture History in the Southern Sudan; pp-
131-147. Nairobi: British Institute in Eastern Africa.
1995 Structure et événement. Le système générationnel des
peuples du cercle karimojong. L’Homme 134; 51-80.
1998 Generational Systems on the Threshold of the Third
Millennium. An Anthropological Perspective. In: E. Kn-
rimoto and S. Simonse (eds.); pp. 98-120.
Toweett, Taaitta
1979 Oral Traditional History of the Kipsigis. Nairobi: KenVa
Literature Bureau.
Welbourn, F. B.
1967 Keyo Initiation. Journal of Religion in Africa 1: 212—
232.
Wood, John C.
1999 When Men Are Women. Manhood among Gabra No-
mads of East Africa. Madison: The University of Wis-
consin Press.
Anthropos 101.2006
Anthropos
101.2006: 99-109
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
Bernhard Lang
Abstract. - The shift from the essentially polytheistic Israelite
Worldview to the basically monolatric and monotheistic reli-
§ion of biblical orthodoxy is still seen as a major problem
°f the history of religions, for there is no generally accepted
explanation to account for the change. As the present article
M'gues, this shift can be elucidated with the help of anthropo-
Jogical research about “millenarian” or “nativistic” movements,
^ke some of these movements, the Hebrew Yahweh-alone
Movement invented a tradition to redefine Israel’s true nature
ln a situation of political crisis brought about by colonial
domination. The invented monotheistic tradition could rely on,
and draw upon, two traditional institutions: (1) the temporary
Monolatric worship of a warrior deity in times of war, and (2)
repentance as “turning” to God, or “returning” to proper moral-
ity» ritually staged as a response to a severe social crisis. Thus
mlical Judaism received the two pillars upon which it rests:
Monotheism and morality. [Bible, Old Testament, monotheism,
nativistic movements]
B
h^nhard Lang, Dr. theol. habil.; Élève titulaire de l’École
I ’que; Studium der Theologie und Ethnologie in Tübingen,
°ndon, Paris und Jerusalem; Professor für Altes Testament
i.d Religionswissenschaft an der Universität Paderborn. - Pu-
'kationen u. a.: “Heaven. A History” (mit Colleen McDannell;
Tew Haven 2001); “Anthropological Approaches to the Old
treStarnent” (Hrsg.; Philadelphia 1985); “The Hebrew God. Por-
jM’1 of an Ancient Deity” (New Haven 2002); s. auch zitierte
jSt ^as 19. Jahrhundert die große Zeit der kolonia-
j.1'sehen Beherrschung vieler außereuropäischer
j ^der durch europäische Mächte, so ist das 20.
Jutrhundert das Zeitalter des Antikolonialismus
d der aus antikolonialen Bewegungen hervor-
^gangenen Staaten. Im Jahr 1949 verzichten die
lederlande auf ihre Besitzansprüche über Indo-
Men. Indien wird 1949/50 von einer britischen
0 °nie zu einer Republik, 1958 erreicht Mada-
gaskar die Unabhängigkeit von Frankreich, 1960
erlangt ein Teil des Kongo die Selbständigkeit
gegenüber Frankreich, ein anderer Teil gegenüber
der belgischen Kolonialmacht. Im Jahr 1962 ist
die britische Herrschaft in Uganda zu Ende -
um nur einige Beispiele zu nennen. Kein Wun-
der, dass sich die Wissenschaft der ehemaligen
Kolonialmächte mit der weltweiten antikolonialen
Bewegung beschäftigte und deren oft rätselhaftes
Wesen zu verstehen suchte, schienen sich hier doch
politische, religiöse und kulturelle Motive fast un-
entwirrbar miteinander zu verknüpfen. Der Anti-
kolonialismus schuf neue Religionsgemeinschaf-
ten und Sekten, führte zur Bildung neuer Staaten
und brachte neue Kulturen hervor.
In der Forschung lassen sich drei Phasen der
Auseinandersetzung mit diesen Vorgängen unter-
scheiden. In einer ersten Phase, die um 1960
ihren Höhepunkt fand, galt die Aufmerksamkeit
vor allem den antikolonialen Bewegungen selbst,
wobei deren religiöse Seite besondere Aufmerk-
samkeit erhielt; diese Forschung ist mit Stichwor-
ten wie “Nativismus” und “Chiliasmus” hervor-
getreten - beide auch vereinigt im Titel eines
prominenten deutschen Buchs (Mühlmann 1961).
Eine zweite Phase galt mehr der politischen Sei-
te des Vorgangs: der Bildung neuer Staaten und
dem Entstehen neuer Nationalismen in außereu-
ropäischen Ländern. In den frühen 1980er Jah-
ren kulminierte diese politologische Forschung in
Werken wie “Nations and Nationalism” (Gellner
1983) und “Imagined Communities” (1983) von
Benedict Anderson. Eine dritte, noch heute an-
haltende Phase ist von sogenannten postkolonialen
Studien beherrscht, deren Aufmerksamkeit der kul-
100
Bernhard Lang
turellen Seite des Wirkens und Nachwirkens des
Kolonialismus gilt; oft genannte Arbeiten stam-
men von zwei Literaturwissenschaftlem; “Orienta-
lism” (Said 1978) und “The Location of Culture”
(Bhabha 1994). Angesichts der schnellen politi-
schen und kulturellen Entwicklung und der nicht
minder raschen Abfolge wissenschaftlicher Trends
ist es kein Wunder, dass die Stichworte der 1960er
Jahre - Nativismus und Chiliasmus - heute kaum
mehr zu hören sind. Nativistische “Umsturzbewe-
gungen” sind in den vier letzten Jahrzehnten im
selben Maße seltener geworden wie die Entko-
lonialisierung Afrikas und Asiens fortgeschritten
ist. Dementsprechend ist auch ein Abnehmen des
Interesses der Forschung zu verzeichnen. Dennoch
- wie Brigitte Luchesi in einer rückschauenden
Beurteilung der einschlägigen Forschung feststel-
len kann - haben die entsprechenden ethnolo-
gischen Theorien nichts an Wert und Aktualität
verloren.1
Mühlmann und andere Erforscher der nati-
vistischen Bewegungen hegten ein umfassendes
theoretisches Interesse, wollten sie doch eine
auf ethnologischem Erfahrungsmaterial beruhende
Theorie des sozialen Wandels entwickeln.2 Hatte
besonders die britische Sozialanthropologie kleine,
in ihrem Wesen angeblich unveränderliche Gesell-
schaften untersucht, so fand sich nun plötzlich rei-
ches Anschauungsmaterial über ethnische Gesell-
schaften in Veränderung - eine Herausforderung
sowohl für die Kolonialpolitik als auch für die
ethnologische Theoriebildung. Mit einem Mal war
die Arbeitsteilung von Soziologie und Ethnologie
aufgehoben - jene Arbeitsteilung, die der Soziolo-
gie die Untersuchung der sich wandelnden, kom-
plexen westlichen Industriegesellschaften zuwies,
während die Ethnologie es mit einfachen statischen
Sozialgebilden zu tun hatte. Besonders Mühlmann
und der Italiener Vittorio Lanternari hofften, nicht
nur zur Theorie des sozialen Wandels beitra-
gen zu können. Sie glaubten, auch grundlegende
Einblicke in die Entstehung religiöser Gemein-
schaften gewinnen zu können. In seinem Buch
“Religiöse Freiheits- und Heilsbewegungen un-
1 “Im Prozess der Entkolonialisierung und zunehmenden Glo-
balisierung der vergangenen vier Jahrzehnte sind nativis-
tische Bewegungen von der Art, wie sie im ersten Teil
des Werks [Mühlmann, Chiliasmus und Nativismus (1961)]
verzeichnet sind, seltener geworden; entsprechend hat das
Interesse an ihnen abgenommen. Ungeachtet dessen haben
Mühlmanns Ausführungen zum Verlauf religiöser Bewe-
gungen ... nichts von ihrer Aktualität verloren” (Luchesi
2001:325).
2 Guariglia 1959; Mühlmann 1961; Lanternari 1968; zur
ersten Orientierung: Mühlmann 1969.
terdrückter Völker” formulierte Lanternari: “Sieht
man genauer zu, so ist jede der großen Religio-
nen von heute als prophetische Erneuerungsbe-
wegung entstanden. Dies gilt in gleicher Weise
für das Judentum, das Christentum, den Islam,
den Buddhismus, den Taoismus usw., das heißt
für die sogenannten ‘gegründeten’ Religionen.”
Lanternari meinte, man könne “recht wohl sagen,
daß jede der heutigen großen Religionen aus dem
Keim einer kulturellen und sozialen Krisensituati-
on herausgewachsen ist” (1968: 27). Leider lässt es
Lanternari bei diesem plakativen Hinweis, und in
Mühlmanns Kasuistik der Umsturzbewegungen ist
zwar viel Anregendes über utopische Zukunftsbil-
der und über Praktiken umstürzlerischer Tätigkeit
zu lesen, aber nur Weniges, was die Entstehung
historischer Religionen unmittelbar erhellt. Meines
Wissens ist weder das Gedankengut von Mühl-
mann noch der Ansatz von Lanternari innerhalb
der Religionswissenschaft ernsthaft aufgegriffen
worden.3 Ich möchte dieses Versäumnis wettma-
chen, wenn auch in sehr bescheidenem Ausmaß;
bescheiden deshalb, weil ich mich ausschließlich
auf das Alte Testament beziehe.
Israels Religionswandel als nativistisches
Phänomen
Die dem Alten Testament zugrunde liegende Ge-
schichte Israels lässt sich für einen Zeitraum von
etwa 365 Jahren hinreichend überblicken. Dieser
Zeitraum beginnt im Jahre 926 v. Chr. und endet
561 v. Chr. Beide Daten gehören zur Geschichte
des vorderasiatischen Imperialismus. Im Jahr 926
v. Chr. hat Pharao Schischak (Scheschonq) einen
Feldzug nach Palästina unternommen und Jerusa-
lem geplündert. Damals gab es zwei hebräische
Königreiche: ein kleines Südreich (mit der Haupt-
stadt Jerusalem) und ein größeres, militärisch
stärkeres Nordreich, das von Schischak unbehelligt
blieb. Das zweite Jahr - 561 - blickt auf die
Geschichte der beiden hebräischen Königreiche
bereits zurück. Nachdem es den Ägyptern nicht
gelungen war, die palästinischen Kleinstaaten zu
Kolonien (mit Selbstverwaltung) zu machen, ge-
lang dies den Assyrem und Babyloniern. Als es
zu Rebellionen gegen die Kolonialmacht kanu
wurde zuerst das hebräische Nordreich liquidiert
3 Eine Ausnahme bildet die Erforschung des frühen Christen-
tums. Hier ist seit 1975 mehrfach, besonders durch John G-
Gager, auf “millennaristische Bewegungen” als erhellend6
Parallele hingewiesen worden. Vgl. Gager 1975; Holmbefg
1990; 78-86 (Forschungsbericht).
Anthropos 101.2006
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
101
(ca. 722 v. Chr.), später das hebräische Südreich
(586 v. Chr.). Im Jahr 561 sehen wir den letz-
ten Jerusalemer König als Staatsgefangenen in
der Stadt Babylon, der zu bescheidener Würde
am babylonischen Hof gekommen ist. Auch re-
ligionsgeschichtlich lassen die beiden genannten
Jahreszahlen eine Deutung zu. Der von Schischak
verschonte Jerusalemer Tempel hat einen deut-
lich polytheistischen Kult. Dagegen liegt der Jeru-
salemer Tempel im Jahr 561 in Trümmern und
der hebräische Staatsgefangene und sein Kreis
träumen davon, dieses Heiligtum einmal wieder
aufzubauen - und zwar als eines, dessen Kult
uur noch einer einzigen Gottheit gilt. Aufstände
gegen imperialistische Großmächte, Verlust staat-
licher Selbständigkeit, Wandel der Religion vom
Polytheismus zur Monolatrie und schließlich zum
Monotheismus kennzeichnen das Schicksal des
biblischen Volkes in jenen bewegten 365 Jahren
und laden zum Vergleich mit der Geschichte von
Völkern ein, in denen nativistische Bewegungen
neue Religionen hervorgebracht haben.
Die zentrale Frage der religionsgeschichlichen
Erforschung des Alten Testaments lautet: Wer
bat die monolatrische Idee hervorgebracht und
durchgesetzt? Aus ethnologischer Sicht ist an ci-
ac “Bewegung” zu denken. Bereits 1943 nennt
Ealph Linton seinen Aufsatz “Nativistic Move-
ajents” (Linton 1965), und für Mühlmann hat es
aichts Besonderes, wenn er im Untertitel seines
Buches von nativistischen “Umsturzbewegungen”
spricht - nämlich von Bewegungen, die auf den
Einsturz kolonialer Beherrschung zielen (1961).
tatsächlich hat Morton Smith für jene Gruppe,
b’e in Israel die Forderung nach der Alleinver-
ahrung des einen Gottes erhob, die Bezeichnung
Yahweh-alone movement” vorgeschlagen (1971:
Was aber ist eine “Bewegung”?
Geht man von den modernen Bewegungen
aüs> lassen sich sechs typische Merkmale heraus-
stellen:4
E Eine Bewegung wird von einem Anliegen ge-
tragen; sie hat eine ganz bestimmte Botschaft,
der große kulturelle, religiöse oder politische
2 Bedeutung beigemessen wird.
• Bewegungen entstehen nicht im politischen
Zentrum, sondern an der Peripherie einer Ge-
sellschaft, also fern von der Konzentration po-
2 bischer und gesellschaftlicher Macht.
‘ Mitgliedschaft und Führung sind eher diffus
aE deutlich, denn eine straffe Organisation
fehlt.
Uese 1971; Schoeck 1969; Tarrow 1996.
Anthr°Pos 101.2006
4. Die Aktivisten sind bereit, für ihr Anliegen
einzutreten, z. B. durch Änderung des persön-
lichen Lebens, durch zivilen Ungehorsam, ge-
legentlich durch Gewalt. “Elan und Charakter
der sozialen Bewegungen ergibt sich aus dem
Gefühl der Mitglieder,... als Retter der Gesell-
schaft gegen eine Unzahl von Feinden wirken
zu müssen” (Schoeck 1969: 55).
5. Mitglieder und Sympathisanten kommen typi-
scherweise aus verschiedenen sozialen Schich-
ten oder Klassen, und es ist gerade diese
Mischung, die ihr Erfolg zu geben vermag
(Beispiele bei Landsberger 1973: 57-60).
6. In Abwesenheit einer Führung kommt in Be-
wegungen bestimmten Schriftdokumenten, die
ihr Gedankengut aussprechen, eine besondere
Bedeutung zu; Bewegungen sind daher oft Le-
sergemeinden.5
Was den breitgestreuten sozialen Hintergrund
der von uns postulierten “Jahwe-allein-Bewegung”
angeht, so haben sich dazu Spezialisten alttesta-
mentlicher Forschung mehrfach geäußert. Morton
Smith meint, der Glaube an den einen Gott “seems
to have been held by a number of groups who
sometimes cooperated, but who differed in social
make-up and motivation. For convenience’s sake,
however, we may speak of them together as the
‘Yahweh-alone party’ (or ‘movement,’ if party
suggest too strongly an Organization)” (1971; 29).
Rainer Albertz pflichtet ihm ausdrücklich bei; ge-
tragen wird die hebräische “Reformbewegung”
von einer “Koalition unterschiedlicher Gruppen”,
nämlich von Hofbeamten, Priestern und Angehöri-
gen der Mittelschicht grundbesitzender Bauern
(1992: 313, Anm. 32, 314). War die Jahwe-allein-
Idee einmal als Forderung erhoben, bildete sich
eine latente Anhängergruppe, aus der immer wie-
der Bewegungen hervorgehen konnten, die das
Anliegen offen artikulierten und es gegen gesell-
schaftliche und staatliche Widerstände durchzuset-
zen versuchten.
Die offenbar stärkste Anhängergruppe der Jah-
we-allein-Idee bediente sich einer eigenen Sprach-
und Stilform, die, stets lebhaft und wortreich die
Alleinverehrung Jahwes fordernd, in den Schriften
des Alten Testaments deutlich erkennbar ist. Der
Ton ist vielfältig und reicht von der rohen Andro-
hung härtester Strafen für Abfall von der Mono-
latrie bis zur sanften Beschwörung, “als wolle der
Hirte Israels ernste und zugleich liebliche Töne
5 Christliche Bewegungen der frühen Neuzeit, die ohne
Institutionen bleiben, betreiben massive Traditionsbildung
mittels erbaulicher Literatur, z. B. Biographien ihrer Hel-
den.
102
Bernhard Lang
auf seiner Flöte spielen, um die verirrten Scha-
fe in seinen Pferch zu locken” (Frazer 1909: 465
über Dtn 30,11-14).6 Da sich diese Sprache im
Buch Deuteronomium konzentriert, pflegt die For-
schung alle von derselben Sprache geprägten
Schriften als deuteronomistische Literatur zu be-
zeichnen. Daher kann Albertz einen Teil der
Jahwe-allein-Bewegung nach der von ihr gepfleg-
ten und überlieferten Literatur geradezu als “deute-
ronomische Reformbewegung” bezeichnen (1992:
304-360).
Biblisch und außerbiblisch lässt sich beobach-
ten, dass Heilsbewegungen einen religiösen Wan-
del mit sich bringen, der durch ein komplexes
Miteinander von Tradition und Innovation gekenn-
zeichnet ist. Diese Beobachtung bezieht sich auf
die geistigen und kulturellen Ressourcen der an-
gezielten Erneuerung. Typisch für die von der
Ethnologie erforschten prophetischen Bewegungen
ist, dass sie die fremde Kultur ablehnen und die
überkommene eigene wertschätzen. In diesem Sin-
ne hat Ralph Linton den von ihm geprägten Be-
griff “nativism” verstanden. Nativismus ist jeder
bewusste und organisierte Versuch von Seiten der
Angehörigen einer Gesellschaft, einige ausgewähl-
te Aspekte der eigenen Kultur neu zu beleben oder
zu bewahren; Linton wörtlich: “we may define
a nativistic movement as ‘Any conscious, orga-
nized attempt on the part of a society’s mem-
bers to revive or perpetuate selected aspects of its
culture’” (1965:499). Solche “organized efforts”
treten auf, “when a society becomes conscious that
there are cultures other than its own and that the
existence of its own culture is threatened” (Linton
1965:499). Linton geht noch einen Schritt weiter
und meint, beim nativistischen Prozess spielten
jene Kulturelemente die größte Rolle, die einer
Gesellschaft als besonders distinktiv erscheinen;
“The more distinctive such elements are with re-
spect to other cultures with which the society is in
contact, the greater their potential value as sym-
bols of the society’s unique character” (1965; 500).
Etwas genauer unterrichtet uns der Ethnologe An-
thony Wallace über den Vorgang: “Die Funktion
von Erneuerungsbewegungen besteht darin, dass
sie ein reichhaltiges, jedoch unordentliches kul-
turelles Feld neu organisieren, indem sie einige
der Bestandteile ausscheiden (und so das kultu-
relle Repertoire auf einen leichter handhabbaren
Umfang reduzieren) und dem, was übrigbleibt,
größere Kohärenz verleihen” (1966: 211). Eine un-
6 Als unbarmherzigen Text wird man demgegenüber Dtn
13,1-6; 17,2-7 bezeichnen (vgl. Lang 1984).
einheitliche, heterogene Kultur wird durch Aus-
scheidung bestimmter Elemente und die Neuord-
nung seiner geistigen Basis gleichsam erneuert,
revitalisiert, auf eine neue Grundlage gestellt. Auf
diese Weise bewältigt die Gesellschaft das Dilem-
ma, das durch Akkulturation und innere Zersplitte-
rung in verschiedene Gruppen entstanden ist. Die
Revitalisierungsbewegung definiert die Verhältnis-
se neu.
Das von Linton beobachtete Zusammenspiel
von Überlieferung und Erneuerung hat für das
Verständnis des Alten Testaments, insbesondere
seiner Propheten, große Bedeutung. Linton und
andere, die ihm folgten, z. B. Guglielmo Guarig-
lia und Anthony Wallace, widersprechen dem von
Max Weber popularisierten Begriff des Propheten
als des charismatischen Neuerers, der sich über die
Tradition hinwegsetzt und autonom, aus sich selbst
oder neuer göttlicher Offenbarung schöpfend, Neu-
es hervorbringt. Die an modernen prophetischen
und Heilsbewegungen gemachten Beobachtungen
dämpfen die an einen Propheten geknüpften Er-
wartungen, indem sie den Propheten nicht als
Agenten des Neuen, sondern eher als Anwalt der
Tradition auffassen.
Doch mit den genannten Arbeiten ist das The-
ma “Tradition und Innovation” keineswegs aus-
diskutiert. Lintons im Jahre 1943 veröffentliche
Beschreibung des Nativismus ist in der Folge-
zeit kritisiert, weitergeführt und verändert worden-
Lanternari und Worsley haben gesehen, dass die
nativistischen Bewegungen nicht ausschließlich re-
gressiven, rückwärtsgewandten Charakter aufwei-
sen. Zwar werden aus der eigenen kulturellen und
religiösen Tradition stammende Elemente wieder-
belebt und erneuert, aber es ist verfehlt, von einem
reinen Nativismus zu sprechen. Immer spielt auch
Neues herein, das oft der Kultur der Kolonialmacht
entstammt oder dieser nachgebildet ist, einen Um-
stand, den Lanternari stark betont (1968: 208, 486
u. ö.). Über Lanternari hinausgehend will Worsley
sogar von einer Neigung zur Synthese verschiede-
ner Kulturen sprechen, die in den Heilsbewegun-
gen zustande kommt (1973:381). Diesem kom-
plexen Befund trägt am ehesten eine Beurteilung
Rechnung, die mit verschiedenen Entwicklungs-
phasen einer Heilsbewegung rechnet. Was Linton
beobachtet hat, entspricht mehr dem Anfangsstadi-
um einer Heilsbewegung; dieses trägt pointiert na-
tivistischen Charakter. Die neue Bewegung verhalt
sich der fremden Kultur gegenüber stark ablehnend
und ruft die Gesellschaft zu ihrer eigenen, an-
gestammten, doch gefährdeten Kultur zurück und
sucht diese zu stärken. Das ist der “polemische und
feindselige Irredentismus, der dazu neigt, auf tradì'
Anthropos 101-2006
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
103
tionelle Werte als die einzig annehmbaren zurück-
zugreifen” (Lantemari 1968:486). Zwar mögen
bereits in dieser Phase die traditionellen Werte
in neuer Form erscheinen (Lantemari 1968: 486),
doch sind Öffnungen zu neuen kulturellen Elemen-
ten und Schaffung einer Synthese eher für eine
spatere Phase typisch.
Der von Eric Hobsbawm ins Spiel gebrachten
Begriff der “Erßndung von Tradition” erleichtert
uns, den Vorgang zu verstehen. Nativistische Be-
wegungen neigen dazu, ein idealisiertes, romanti-
sches Bild von der eigenen, angestammten Kultur
zu entwerfen. Dabei gehen sie oft so weit, dass
sie die Tradition - die unverfälschte, seit alters
bestehende Kultur - “erfinden”. Die “Erfindung
von Tradition” lässt sich tatsächlich vielerorts be-
dachten - auch in heutigen westlichen Gesell-
schaften (Hobsbawm and Ranger 1983; van Hen-
ten and Houtepen 2001). Angeblich alte und seit
Unvordenklicher Zeit unveränderte keltische Über-
lieferungen, Bräuche und Trachten bestimmen
ds Nationalbewusstsein der heutigen schottischen
Bevölkerung, und im 19. und frühen 20. Jahr-
hundert beriefen sich deutsche Patrioten gerne
auf die Schätze uralter germanischer Mythologie -
Urn nur zwei Beispiele aus neuerer Zeit an-
zuführen. Immer wieder gelingt es der kritischen
Forschung, solche angeblich alten Traditionen als
Junge Konstmktionen - als “erfundene Traditi-
°n ’ - zu erweisen. So ist der buntkarierte, von
Männern getragene kurze Schottenrock - der
Kilt” - keineswegs eine traditionelle keltische
Volkstracht, sondern nicht älter als das 18. Jahr-
hundert; wir kennen sogar den Namen seines Er-
finders - Thomas Rawlinson (Trevor-Roper 1983).
^us der Zeit der Romantik stammend sind manche
Volkstrachten und -bräuche eher Erzeugnisse pro-
uktiver Phantasie als echtes nationales Erbe, und
usselbe gilt für die politischen und religiösen Ein-
kehlungen vieler Völker (James 1999; Hartwich
oOO). Wie genannten Beispiele zeigen, ist das
rfinden von Traditionen nicht so schwierig, wie
S uns zunächst scheinen mag, denn mündliche
berlieferungen lassen sich leicht manipulieren,
le Vergangenheit lässt sich in ein romantisches
lcht rücken und traditionelles Kulturgut steht
neuen Deutungen offen. Allerdings lässt sich Neu-
^ stets nur unter der Maske des Alten einführen.
lrd etwas Neues in das kulturelle Leben ge-
acht, so verdient es nur dann Beachtung und
efolgschaft, wenn es sich als das gute Alte auszu-
^eisen vermag und, indem es Vergessenes wieder-
^ rst£Ht, Altbewährtes erneut zu Ehren bringt. Für
eUes ist stets ein legitimierender “Altersbeweis”
°rzulegen (Pilhofer 1990), denn das wirklich
Anth
,roPos 101.2006
Neue gilt als störend, verdächtig und sittenwidrig,
man denke nur an den lateinischen Ausdruck res
novae, “Neues” im Sinne von “Umsturz, Revolu-
tion”. Die ersten großen Emeuerungsbewegungen
der europäischen Kultur - Renaissance und Re-
formation - sahen ihr Anliegen als Rückkehr zu
alten, vergessenen Lebensformen. Der uns heute
geläufige Fortschrittsgedanke, der Innovation be-
grüßt und als nützlich fördert, findet sich kaum vor
dem 17. Jahrhundert; programmatisch hat ihn zu-
erst der englische Philosoph Francis Bacon (1561 —
1626) vertreten. Auch heute noch sprechen wir
von “Reformen”, wenn wir Neuerungen meinen;
so steht auch unsere Sprache noch unter dem Bann
der alten Mentalität.
In der Zeit der Bedrängnis durch Kolonialmäch-
te kam die Kultur des alten Israel in eine nati-
vistische Phase: eine Phase der Verteidigung der
eigenen, wenn auch von Erfindungen nicht freier
Tradition. Der Jahwe-allein-Bewegung gelang es,
die traditionelle Religion in ihrem Sinn neu zu
definieren und mit Erfolg zu behaupten, der Na-
tionalgott Jahwe habe schon immer ausschließliche
Verehrung verlangt. Die heutige Forschung weist
diese Behauptung als unbegründet zurück, doch
machte sie in biblischer Zeit einen ungeheuren
Eindruck und bereitete dem Monotheismus den
Weg.
Die nativistische Umwandlung traditioneller
Rituale
Eine besondere Eigenart erfundener Tradition be-
steht darin, dass sie an vorhandenes Kulturgut
anknüpft - etwa nach der Art eines Thomas
Rawlinson, der den von der einfachen schotti-
schen Bevölkerung getragenen langen Rock kürzt;
der kurze Schottenrock diente als bequeme Ar-
beitskleidung in Rawlinsons eigener Fabrik. Der
Jahwe-allein-Bewegung dienten bestimmte reli-
giöse Bräuche und Einrichtungen als Anknüp-
fungspunkt für den von ihr geschaffenen mono-
latrischen Kult. Die umgeformten, aber noch in
ihrer ursprünglichen Gestalt erkennbaren Institu-
tionen bezeichne ich als “temporäre Monolatrie”
und “Umkehrritual”. Auf beide Institutionen konn-
te zurückgegriffen werden, als die hebräische Ge-
sellschaft von einer gewaltigen nativistischen Be-
wegung erfasst wurde.
Unter “temporärer Monolatrie” ist jener Brauch
zu verstehen, nach welchem eine Kultgemein-
schaft während einer bestimmten Zeit nur ei-
ner einzigen Gottheit kultischen Dienst leistet;
während dieser Zeit wird darauf verzichtet, andere
104
Bernhard Lang
Götter zu verehren. In Israel scheint dieser Brauch
kultischer Enthaltsamkeit bei kriegerischen Unter-
nehmungen gepflegt worden zu sein. Die Über-
lieferungen über die Frühzeit des Volkes lassen
erkennen, dass die Hebräer während ihrer Kriege
die sonst verehrten Götter vernachlässigten, um
nur ihrem Kriegsgott Jahwe zu huldigen. Als Gott
des informellen Stämmebundes war Jahwe der
göttliche Krieger des Bundesheeres. Allein ver-
ehrt, verhieß der Kriegsgott den Sieg. Tatsächlich
wird uns einmal mitgeteilt, dass die Israeliten sich
in einem Kriegsfall ihrer Götter entledigten; “Sie
entfernten die fremden Götter aus ihrer Mitte und
dienten Jahwe. Da konnte er das Elend Israels
nicht länger ertragen” (Ri 10,16). Doch nach dem
Sieg, nach Ende des Krieges, durfte man wieder
zur Verehrung der Ortsgötter, der Familiengötter
und welcher Gottheiten auch immer zurückkehren.
Die Pflicht der Alleinverehrung galt nur für die
Wochen oder Monate des Kriegs.
Diese Institution der “zeitweisen Monolatrie”
ist keineswegs auf Israel beschränkt, sondern lässt
sich zumindest in einer der alten semitischen Kul-
turen nachweisen - der des Zweistromlandes. Ein
besonders gutes Beispiel ist im babylonischen
Atramchasis-Epos enthalten (von Soden 1994:
627-630; dazu van Selms 1973). Um 1700 v. Chr.
entstanden und keilschriftlich überliefert, erzählt
dieses Epos von den Anfängen der Menschheit.
Die Götter haben die Menschen erschaffen, damit
sie von ihnen bedient werden; schließlich werden
die Menschen aber so zahlreich, dass sich einige
Götter durch den Lärm im Schlaf gestört fühlen.
Daher beschließen sie, die Menschen aussterben
zu lassen, und zwar soll der Regen ausbleiben, so
dass keine Vegetation und damit keine Nahrung
mehr entstehen kann. Einer der Götter - Enki,
der schlaue Gott der Weisheit - ist jedoch ande-
rer Meinung. Er wendet sich an den Menschen
Atramchasis und verrät ihm die rettende List: Die
Menschen sollen aufhören, die Götter zu vereh-
ren; nur bei Adad, dem Regengott, sollen sie eine
Ausnahme machen. Und so geschieht es auch.
Adad erhält einen neuen Tempel und wird durch
reichlich dargebrachte Opfer geehrt. Durch so viel
Ehre geschmeichelt, sendet Adad Tau in der Nacht,
so dass das Getreide wachsen kann. Damit aber ist
die Krise überstanden. Die Menschheit kann wei-
terleben, und man kehrt zur gewohnten Verehrung
aller Götter zurück.
Die Heerführer des frühen Israel mögen eine
vergleichbare Strategie verfolgt haben. Indem sie
die ausschließliche Verehrung des göttlichen Krie-
gers ausriefen, hofften sie, Jahwes Beistand zu
sichern.
Es war ein Leichtes, die alte Forderung nach
ausschließlicher Verehrung umzudeuten - oder
misszuverstehen - und aus der zeitlich begrenz-
ten Alleinverehrung eine dauerhafte Monolatrie
zu schaffen. Die zeitweilige Allein Verehrung in
Kriegszeiten scheint das Vorbild der späteren Jah-
we-allein-Idee gewesen zu sein. Jedenfalls macht
die ausschließliche Verehrung Jahwes als Maßnah-
me einer Krisensituation im 8. und 7. Jahrhundert
v. Chr. Sinn, wuchs doch damals der Druck des
assyrischen Oberherm auf Palästina und bestimm-
te zunehmend das politische Leben. Da sich die
Krise als dauernd herausstellte, sollten sich alle
Israeliten und Judäer ausschließlich und dauernd
an den einen Gott binden, der Rettung verhieß-
So lässt sich der beginnende Monotheismus am
besten als rituelle Antwort auf eine politische Krise
verstehen.
Für den Erfolg der dauernden Alleinverehrung
Jahwes besonders wichtig war, dass sich die Pries-
terschaft diesem Programm verschrieb und von der
Verehrung anderer Götter lossagte. Dieser Vorgang
des Lossagens ist zumindest durch ein eindrucks-
volles Zeugnis belegt - den 16. Psalm. Dieses
Lied gibt uns eine Art Formular der Hinwendung
des bisher vielen Göttern opfernden Priesters zum
einen Gott;
Behüte mich, Gott, denn ich flüchte zu dir.
Ich sage zum Herrn; “Mein Herr bist du,
mein ganzes Glück bist du allein.”
Über die “Heiligen” [d. h. die Götter], die im Lande
sind, sage ich,
und über die “Herrlichen”, die mir so gefielen;
“Wer einem anderen Gott nachläuft,
dessen Schmerzen mehren sich.
Nie mehr will ich ihnen Opferblut spenden,
und nie mehr nehme ich ihren Namen auf die Lippen.
Herr, du bist mein Anteil und Becher,
du selber hältst mein Los in der Hand.
Die Messschnur fiel mir auf liebliches Land;
Ja, mein Erbe gefällt mir.
(Ps 16,1-6; nach Braulik et al. 2003)
Auf die Zufluchtnahme zum einen Gott, der
dem Priester zugleich persönlicher Schutzgott ist
(“mein Gott” oder “mein Herr”), folgt das Ab'
schwören gegenüber den anderen Göttern. Das
Ende des angeführten Abschnitts nimmt darauf
Bezug, dass der Priester vom Kultdienst lebt "
das “liebliche Land”, das “Erbe” oder “Erbland”»
von dem der Priester lebt, ist nichts anderes als
der Einkommen erwirtschaftende Kultdienst atu
Tempel.
Eine ähnliche Umwandlung wie die der teih'
porären Monolatrie können wir an der Institut!'
Anthropos 101.2006
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
105
on des Umkehrrituals beobachten.7 Auch hier ist
zunächst das traditionelle Umkehrritual zu betrach-
ten - seine alte Gestalt, die der Umwandlung
vorausliegt.
Wie bekannt, sind nicht alle religiösen Rituale
des alten Israel aufgezeichnet und in die Gesetzes-
sammlungen des Pentateuchs eingegangen. Riten
ohne Kodifizierung bilden einen festen Bestand-
teil des religiösen, auch priesterlichen Brauchtums,
Wenn sie uns auch nur indirekt - durch An-
deutungen in der biblischen Literatur - überlie-
fert sind. Ein solches, nur durch Rekonstruktion
zugängliches Ritual ist jenes, das als Umkehr-
ritual bezeichnet werden mag. Anlass, ein solches
durchzuführen, ist die Notlage, in die eine Gruppe,
vielleicht sogar das ganze Volk, geraten ist. Diese
Notlage wird durch kultische Versammlung der
Gemeinde in einem Tempel beantwortet. Die im
Tempel vollzogene Handlung lässt sich nur um-
risshaft erkennen. Als Bestandteile sind zu ver-
muten: ein aus Zerreißen der Kleidung (2 Kön
22,11 - der dort geschilderte König gilt als Vorbild
v°n Umkehrbereitschaft), Weinen und Klagen (Jak
4,9) bestehender Ritus der Selbstdemütigung; das
Erbringen eines Schlachtopfers (Hos 5,6); das
Ablegen eines Schuldbekenntnisses; das Vorbrin-
gen eines Bittgebets, wofür wir ein - vermutlich
gekürztes - Beispiel besitzen: “Nimm alle Schuld
v°n uns, und lass uns Gutes erfahren! Wir dan-
ken es dir mit der Frucht unserer Lippen” (Hos
14,3); der den Abschluss bildende, durch Priester
oder Prophet vermittelte göttliche Zuspruch: “Ich
Nahwe] will ihre Untreue heilen und sie aus lauter
Großmut wieder lieben. Denn mein Zorn hat sich
v°n Israel abgewandt. Ich werde für Israel da sein
Wle der Tau, damit es aufblüht wie eine Lilie” (Hos
H,5-6).
Das Wort “umkehren” begegnet in diesem
Zusammenhang mehrfach. Wenn im Israel des
Unerlässlich ist eine Bemerkung zum heute in theologischer
Sprache geläuügen Wort “Umkehr”. Als Wiedergabe des in
ahtestamentlichen Texten oft belegten Verbs shüb (umkeh-
ren) ist es ein junges Fachwort. Zu Beginn des 20. Jahrhun-
derts aufgekommen, hat es sich erst in den 1960er Jahren
durchgesetzt. Einer der ersten, der das Wort in die theo-
logische Sprache eingebracht hat, ist Adolf von Harnack:
Es ist die höchste Zeit, es ist die letzte Zeit - in diesen
kuf hat sich daher bei allen Völkern und in allen Epochen
die energische Mahnung zur Umkehr gekleidet, wenn ihnen
nieder einmal ein Prophet geschenkt war” (Harnack [1899]
2005; 32). Früher sprach man - missverständlich - von
Buße” und “Mahnung zur Buße”. Indem wir von einem
alten Umkehrritual (statt von einem solchen der Buße)
sprechen, folgen wir dem heute üblichen und sachgemäßen
Sprachgebrauch. Zur Geschichte des Wortes “Umkehr” in
der deutschen theologischen Sprache vgl. Lang 2005: 393 f.
Anth
8. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. zur “Umkehr” aufgerufen
wird - “Kommt, wir kehren um zu Jahwe, denn
er hat Wunden gerissen, er wird uns auch heilen”;
“kehr um, Israel, zu Jahwe, deinem Gott” (Hos
6,1; 14,2) - wird mit einem Wort priesterlicher
Sprache dazu aufgefordert, sich zum Tempel zu
begeben und dort das von uns versuchsweise re-
konstruierte Ritual zu vollziehen. Das mit “um-
kehren” wiedergegebene hebräische shüb meint als
Verb der Bewegung nichts anderes als “(gemein-
schaftlich zum Tempel) hingehen”, doch schwingt
- ähnlich wie bei dem biblischen Ausdruck “Gott
suchen” = den Tempel aufsuchen - eine zweite
Bedeutung mit: sich an Gott wenden. Anlass für
die Wallfahrt zum Tempel ist die Erfahrung von
Unheil, und von Jahwe wird die Wiederherstellung
des Heilszustandes erfleht. Noch in der Spätzeit ist
dieser Bedeutungszusammenhang bekannt: “Israe-
liten, kehrt um zu Jahwe! ... Reicht Jahwe die
Hand und kommt in sein Heiligtum! ... Dient
Jahwe, eurem Gott, damit sein Zorn von euch
ablässt!” (2 Chr 30,6.8)
Wie sich das Umkehrritual nur in Grundzügen
erkennen lässt, so können wir auch über seine Pra-
xis nur Vermutungen anstellen. Eine alte Anwei-
sung führt folgende Anlässe für Gebetsversamm-
lungen an: wenn ein Feind eine israelitische Stadt
belagert; wenn das Heer in den Krieg auszieht;
wenn Regen ausbleibt; wenn Hungersnot im Lan-
de herrscht oder dieses von Pest, Getreidebrand,
Heuschrecken und Ungeziefer heimgesucht wird;
wenn das Heer eine Niederlage einstecken muss-
te; wenn Gott das Volk bestraft hat und dessen
Feinden erlaubte, es in ein fremdes Land zu ver-
schleppen (1 Kön 8,33-53). Anlass des Rituals
ist offenbar nicht eine Frevelhandlung, derer sich
die Gemeinschaft schuldig weiß und die nun aus
Furcht vor göttlicher Strafe ein Bittritual vollzieht;
vielmehr wird eine Notlage zum Anlass der Selbst-
besinnung - wenn Not herrscht, muss ein diese
Not verursachender Frevel vorhergegangen sein.
Da Sünde das menschliche Leben wie ein Schatten
stets begleitet, kann es nicht schwer fallen, sich
ihrer anzuklagen.
Wie im Falle der temporären Monolatrie ist die
große politische Krise auch Ausgangspunkt der
Umgestaltung des Rufs zur Umkehr. Aus dem mit
einmaligen, kurzfristigen Krisen verbundenen Ruf
zur Umkehr wird, in Parallelität zu einer mehre-
re Jahrhunderte andauernden und nicht endenden
Krise, ein ständiger Ruf zur Umkehr.
Tatsächlich erfolgt der Ruf zur Umkehr, der das
spätalttestamentliche und frühchristliche Schrift-
tum der Zeit von ca. 623 v. Chr. bis 100 n. Chr. in
mehreren Wellen beherrscht, mit solcher Häufig-
,roPos 101.2006
106
Bernhard Lang
keit und solchem Nachdruck, dass die Forschung
von einer großen “Umkehrbewegung” spricht
(Steck 1967: 212). Ihr Ausgangspunkt ist die poli-
tische Krise, die mit der Bedrängnis des judäischen
Staates durch die Babylonier im ausgehenden
7. Jahrhundert v. Chr. beginnt und die sich durch
den Verlust politischer Autonomie (Zerstörung Je-
rusalems und seiner Monarchie 586 v. Chr.) und
die Diasporaexistenz vieler Juden verschärft. Erho-
ben wird die Forderung, dass das Volk insgesamt
und jeder Einzelne sich erneut auf das religiöse
und sittliche Gebot Gottes besinnt und in einem
Akt der Umkehr diesem Gesetz unterstellt; er-
wartet wird, dass die von einer großen Zahl von
Menschen geleistete Umkehr zum Ende politischer
Unterdrückung und sogar zur Herbeiführung ei-
nes universalen endzeitlichen Heilszustandes führt
(Jubiläenbuch 23,26-30 bei Berger 1999: 445 f.).
Umkehr, der vom jüdischen Menschen verlangte
erste Akt der endzeitlichen Geschehnisse, wird als
prinzipielle Abkehr von sündhafter Existenz und
eine die Lebensführung prägende Verpflichtung
auf ein sittliches, der göttlichen Ordnung entspre-
chendes Verhalten verstanden. Umkehr wird dabei
oft als Entscheidung für die Alleinverehrung des
einen Gottes gefordert. Im Zusammenhang mit der
auf Alleinverehrung Jahwes zielenden religiösen
Reform von König Joschija von Juda (ca. 623
v. Chr.) und dem babylonischen Exil (seit der Er-
oberung Jerusalems durch die Babylonier 597 und
586 v. Chr.) wird “Umkehr” zu einem prägnan-
ten religionspolitischen Stichwort, steht es doch
für die Forderung, zur (angeblich in älterer Zeit
bestehenden) alleinigen Verehrung Jahwes zurück-
zukehren. Umkehr meint Abkehr von der einzigen,
in diesem Zusammenhang genannten Sünde: dem
Götzendienst. König Joschija von Juda, “der mit
ganzer Seele und mit all seinen Kräften zu Jahwe
umkehrte und so getreu das Gesetz des Mose be-
folgte”, gilt als Repräsentant des frommen, sich
vom Götzendienst abwendenden, des sich bekeh-
renden Israel (2 Kön 23,25). Der Bericht über
Joschija zeigt, was Umkehr im Einzelnen bedeutet:
die Kenntnisnahme des göttlichen Gesetzes durch
Lesen oder Hören; die Unterwerfung unter das
Gottesgesetz in einem Akt der Buße (Zerreißen der
Kleidung); die Anerkennung der eigenen Schuld
im Zuwiderhandeln gegen göttliches Gebot; die
erneute, feierliche Selbstverpflichtung auf das gött-
liche Gesetz; die Durchführung von Reformen, die
das göttliche Gebot verwirklichen.
Allem Volk wird vom Propheten Umkehr ge-
predigt: “Kehrt um, ein jeder von seinem bösen
Weg. ... Lauft nicht anderen Göttern nach, um
ihnen zu dienen und sie anzubeten” (Jer 25,5-
6). Das Volk wird nicht nur aufgefordert, zu Gott
zurückzukehren; Jahwe lädt dazu ein und bietet
seine Gnade an: “Kehre zurück [oder: kehre uml,
Israel, du Abtrünnige ... Ich schaue dich nicht
mehr zornig an, denn ich bin gütig”, ruft der für
Gott selbst sprechende Prophet (Jer 3,12). An an-
derer Stelle wird das Gnadenangebot durch eine
Ankündigung göttlicher Heilsinitiative noch über-
troffen: “So spricht Jahwe, der Gott Israels; .. •
Ich [d. h. Jahwe] richte meine Augen liebevoll auf
sie und lasse sie in dieses Land [d. h. Palästina]
heimkehren. Ich will sie aufbauen, nicht niederrei-
ßen, einpflanzen, nicht ausreißen. Ich gebe ihnen
ein Herz, damit sie erkennen, dass ich Jahwe bin.
Sie werden mein Volk sein, und ich werde ihr Gott
sein, denn sie werden mit ganzem Herzen zu mir
umkehren” (Jer 24,5-7). Hier ist die Umkehr, ver-
standen als Rückkehr zu einem Vertrauensverhält-
nis von Gott und Volk, die Folge eines göttlichen
Heilsaktes. Gott führt die Verschleppten in die
Heimat zurück und schenkt ihnen gleichzeitig ein
neues Herz, also eine neue, auf Gott ausgerichtete
und mit Liebeskraft ausgestattete Lebensmitte (so
auch Ez 11,19; 36,26). Umkehr wird religiös als
Verlassen von Götzendienst und Hinwendung zum
wahren Gott gedacht; sie ist jedoch nicht Leistung
des Menschen, sondern, in göttlicher Initiative
wurzelnd, ein Geschenk Gottes.
Charakteristisch für die “Umkehrbewegung”
ist, dass nicht nur Umkehr zum einen Gott, son-
dern auch sittliche Erneuerung gefordert wird. Die
eindringlichste biblische Ermahnung zu sittlicher
Umkehr findet sich bei den Propheten Jeremia
und Ezechiel im frühen 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr.
Jeremia stellt wiederholt fest, dass eine Umkehr,
verstanden als Ablassen von sündigem Tun, nicht
erfolgt: Die Israeliten - und zwar sind jeweils
einzelne Israeliten gemeint, nicht das Volk als gan-
zes - treiben Ehebruch, lügen und führen die vom
König verfügte Entlassung von Schuldknechten
nicht durch (Belege: Jer 5,2 ff.; 23,14; 34,15-16)-
Das Neue ist hier der ethisch-rechtliche Begriff
von Umkehr als Abkehr vom Bösen sowie die
Individualisierung, soll doch der Einzelne vom
sündigen Handeln lassen. Besonders deutlich wird
die Individualisierung des sittlichen Aufrufs bei
Ezechiel. In einer weit ausladenden Reflexion geht
der Prophet von dem unter den Deportierten kur-
sierenden Spruch aus, die Väter hätten gesündigt’
doch die Söhne wurden bestraft. Diesem Spruch
hält Ezechiel entgegen: Jeder Einzelne wird nur
für seine eigenen Sünden bestraft; außerdem leg1
die in der Vergangenheit begangene moralische
Verfehlung - aufgezählt werden primär sittliche
Vergehen wie Ehebruch, Ausbeutung der Armen
Anthropos 101.2006
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
107
u- ä. - das Schicksal des Einzelnen nicht ein für
allemal fest; durch Umkehr ist es möglich, eine
Änderung sowohl des eigenen Herzens als auch
des persönlichen Geschicks herbeizuführen (da
aus gerechtem Handeln ein positives Ergehen er-
wächst). “Wenn sich der Schuldige von dem Un-
recht abwendet, das er begangen hat, und nach
Recht und Gerechtigkeit handelt, wird er sein Le-
ben bewahren. Wenn er alle Vergehen, deren er
sich schuldig gemacht hat, einsieht und umkehrt,
wird er bestimmt am Leben bleiben. Er wird nicht
sterben” (Ez 18,27-28). In diesem Zusammen-
hang fällt die Ermahnung: “Werft alle Vergehen
v°n euch, die ihr verübt habt! Schafft euch ein neu-
es Herz und einen neuen Geist! ... Kehrt um, da-
ttüt ihr am Leben bleibt” (Ez 18,31-32). Umkehr
besteht nach dem Ezechielwort in grundsätzlicher
sittlicher Neuorientierung, zu welcher der Einzelne
v°n sich aus fähig ist. Es wäre allerdings unan-
gemessen, dabei von einem Heilsindividualismus
2u sprechen, denn auch für Jeremia und Ezechiel
bleibt die Umkehr des Einzelnen wie das durch
Sinneswandel gewonnene Heil in das kollektive
Geschick des Volkes eingebunden.
Im 1. Jahrhundert n. Chr. wird die Forderung
nach sittlicher Umkehr mit unterschiedlicher Ak-
2entsetzung von der Qumrangemeinde ebenso wie
v°n Johannes dem Täufer und frühen Christen
erhoben. Wer der Qumransekte beitritt, verpflichtet
Slch feierlich auf die Thora; er schwört “umzukeh-
f611 zum Gesetz des Mose gemäß allem, was er
^efohlen hat, von ganzem Herzen und von ganzer
^eele,... sich abzusondern von allen Männern des
revels, die auf gottlosem Wege wandeln” (1 QS
,8.10-11, nach Maier 1995: 178 f.). Johannes der
aufer ruft den einzelnen Juden zur Umkehr auf,
• h. zur Abkehr von sündhaftem sittlichem Ver-
alten. Bemerkenswert ist die Verknüpfung dieses
Aufrufs mit einer rituellen Handlung. Ein zweitei-
1^es Ritual ist erkennbar. Zuerst verkündet Johan-
aes sittlichen Forderungen: Allen sagt er, wer
^Wei Gewänder hat, der gebe eines davon dem,
keines hat, und wer zu essen hat, der handle
. easo; zu den Steuerbeamten sagt er: Verlangt
nicht mehr, als festgesetzt ist; Soldaten werden
aufgefordert, niemand zu misshandeln und zu er-
Prsssen und mit dem Sold zufrieden zu sein (Lk
’10-14) Darauf folgt die Taufe; dieses rituelle
^atertauchen in einem Fluss versinnbildlicht die
aberung von vergangener Sünde und bekräftigt
j. a Entschluss des Täuflings, ein neues, von Sitt-
£ akeit bestimmtes Leben zu führen. Die ethische
°tschaft des Täufers wird in dem Satz zusam-
eagefasst: “Kehret um, denn nahe herbeigekom-
ea ist das Königtum des Himmels” (Mt 3,2).
Anth
roPos 101.2006
Das Verhältnis von Aufforderung zur Umkehr und
Hinweis auf die nahe herbeigekommene Gottes-
herrschaft wird nicht erläutert; die Verbindung von
sittlicher Ermahnung und Ansage der Nähe des
göttlichen Heilshandelns ist traditionell vorgege-
ben;8 offenbar ist Gott jetzt willens, menschliche
Umkehr durch sein Eingreifen zugunsten seines
Volkes zu beantworten. Schließlich haben auch
die Christen, zweifellos im engen Anschluss an
Johannes den Täufer, zur Umkehr aufgerufen; so
paradigmatisch Petrus in der Apostelgeschichte:
“Kehrt um, und jeder von euch lasse sich auf
den Namen Jesu Christi taufen zur Vergebung der
Sünden” (Apg 2,38).
Nachdem wir uns - in groben Zügen - das
Thema Umkehr vergegenwärtigt haben, können
wir eine knappe ethnologische Analyse versuchen.
Es besteht kein Zweifel: das Denken der bib-
lischen Umkehrbewegung und das der ethnolo-
gisch erforschten Heilsbewegungen weisen die-
selbe Struktur auf. Die in der Bibel erhobene
Forderung nach Umkehr gehört zu einem umfas-
senden, von Autoren wie Mühlmann und Lanter-
nari erhellten Vorgang. Den Ausgangspunkt bildet
eine Notlage, in der sich eine größere soziale
Gruppe vorfindet, etwa ein Stamm oder ein gan-
zes Volk. Die Krise wird mittels ganz bestimmter,
kulturell und religiös spezifischer, doch dem Typ
nach allgemein bekannter Handlungen bewältigt.
Folgen wir den genannten Studien über nativisti-
sche und prophetische Heilsbewegungen der neue-
ren Zeit, so lassen sich vier Elemente als für
den Vorgang charakteristisch benennen: (1) Eine
Krise; durch natürliche (z. B. Dürre, Ausbleiben
der Ernte) oder (zumeist) geschichtliche Umstände
(z. B. Beherrschung durch eine überlegene Kriegs-
und Kolonialmacht) hervorgerufen, erschüttert sie
eine ganze Gesellschaft, deren weitere Existenz
gefährdet ist. (2) Eine prophetische Anklage; diese
ist mit einem Aufruf zum Handeln verbunden;
im einfachsten Fall wird das Sühnen begangener
Sünde durch Bußriten gefordert, doch auch eine
umfassende Neugestaltung der gesamten Kultur,
z. B. durch Besinnung auf traditionelle Werte, kann
Gegenstand prophetischer Forderung sein. (3) Die
Umkehr: z. B. ein von der Gemeinschaft durch-
geführtes Ritual oder eine von großen Teilen einer
Gesellschaft getragene Veränderung, beispielswei-
se die Rückkehr zur Sittlichkeit und Lebensweise
der Väter oder (alternativ) die Ablehnung der Irr-
8 Vgl. Jes 56,1: “So spricht Jahwe: Wahrt das Recht, sorgt
für Gerechtigkeit, denn bald kommt von mir das Heil,
meine Gerechtigkeit [d. h. mein rechte Ordnung schaffendes
Eingreifen] wird sich bald offenbaren.”
108
Bernhard Lang
wege der letzten Generation. (4) Das Ende der
Krise; ein großer, die gesamte Gesellschaft betref-
fender und manchmal als überwältigendes Wunder
erwarteter Umschwung wird als Folge der Um-
kehrhandlung erhofft.
Zu jedem der vier von uns hervorgehobenen
Elemente des Umkehrgeschehens gibt es in der
ethnologischen Literatur reiches Belegmaterial und
weiterführende Erörterungen. Aus der ethnolo-
gischen Debatte möchte ich eine von Vittorio
Lantemari und Peter Worsley gemachte Beobach-
tung zum Thema “sittliche Umkehr” hervorheben:
Die eine Heilsbewegung auslösende Krise wird
von den Betroffenen oft als inneres, und weni-
ger als von außen auf eine Gesellschaft treffendes
Problem gesehen. Das trifft für die biblische Um-
kehrbewegung ebenso zu wie für die ethnologisch
erforschten Heilsbewegungen. Die auslösende Kri-
se enthält von Lantemari als exogen und endogen
bezeichnete Momente; nicht nur der Kolonialismus
spielt herein (als exogenes Moment), sondern auch
innere Ursachen wie z. B. der Klassengegensatz
zwischen Arm und Reich oder die Vorherrschaft
bestimmter Gruppen innerhalb einer Gesellschaft
werden von den Befreiungsbewegungen selbst gel-
tend gemacht (1968: 472-474). Auch Worsley be-
obachtet den Verweis auf innere Unstimmigkeiten
innerhalb der ethnischen Gesellschaft, auf mora-
lische Sünden und Vergehen des eigenen Volkes
als Wurzel von allem Übel (1973: 321). Was das
Alte Testament betrifft, so wird die Krise - sogar
vornehmlich - auf endogene Ursachen zurück-
geführt: auf religiöses und moralisches Versagen,
auf Schuld. Während wir heute die militärische
Bedrängung und kolonialistische Ausbeutung, die
Israel und Juda erfahren haben, auf den Imperia-
lismus Assyriens und Babyloniens zurückführen,
legen die biblischen Texte von dieser “exogenen”
Ursache kaum Rechenschaft ab. So entsteht ein
nach unseren Begriffen recht einseitiges Bild, das
die historische Forschung zu berichtigen sucht.
Schluss
An dieser Stelle können wir abbrechen. Haben wir
doch, wie ich hoffe, unser Ziel erreicht: mit Hilfe
ethnologischer Theorie den Wandlungsprozess zu
erhellen, der vom polytheistischen Israel zum mo-
notheistischen Frühjudentum des Alten Testaments
führt. Soweit sich aus Spuren in der biblischen
Überlieferung erkennen lässt, ist die altisraelitische
Religion von zwei Institutionen geprägt, die zur
Bewältigung kurzfristiger Krisen eingesetzt wer-
den: der “temporären Monolatrie” und dem “Um-
kehrritual”. In Kriegszeiten erhält der Kriegsgott
zur Sicherung des Sieges ausschließliche Vereh-
rung. Mit “Umkehr”, der von der gesamten Ge-
sellschaft rituell vollzogenen Hinwendung zu Gott
oder Rückkehr zur wahren Sittlichkeit, werden
gesellschaftliche Krisen beantwortet. Unter kolo-
nialem Druck von einer nativistischen Bewegung
erfasst, gestaltet das werdende Judentum diese In-
stitutionen in einer Zeit immerwährender Krise
um. Durch eine gewaltige Erfindung von Tradition
wird nun die temporäre Monolatrie zum Monothe-
ismus, und der Akt der religiösen und sittlichen
Umkehr zum Grundakt religiöser Existenz. Gott
und Umkehr - oder, modern ausgedrückt: Mo-
notheismus und Moral - werden zu den beiden
tragenden Säulen des Judentums.
Zitierte Literatur
Albertz, Rainer
1992 Religionsgeschichte Israels in alttestamentlicher Zeit-
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht.
Anderson, Benedict
1983 Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Origins and
Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Berger, Klaus
1999 Das Buch der Jubiläen. In: H. Lichtenberger (Hrsg-f
Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit-
Bd. 2; Unterweisung in erzählender Form; pp. 272-575-
Gütersloh: Mohn.
Bhabha, Homi K.
1994 The Location of Culture. London: Routledge.
Braulik, Georg, et al.
2003 Münsterschwarzacher Psalter. Münsterschwarzach: Vier-
Türme-Verlag.
Frazer, James George
1909 Passages from the Bible. London: Black. [2nd ed.]
Frese, J.
1971 Bewegung, politische. In: J. Ritter (Hrsg.), Historisches
Wörterbuch der Philosophie. Bd. 1; pp. 880-882. Basel:
Schwabe.
Gager, John G.
1975 Kingdom and Community. The Social World of Early
Christianity. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall.
Gellner, Ernest
1983 Nations and Nationalism. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers-
Guariglia, Guglielmo
1959 Prophetismus und Heilserwartungs-Bewegungen als völ-
kerkundliches und religionsgeschichtliches Problem-
Horn: Verlag Ferdinand Berger. (Wiener Beiträge zur
Kulturgeschichte und Linguistik, 13)
Harnack, Adolf von
2005 Das Wesen des Christentums. Sechzehn Vorlesung611
vor Studierenden aller Fakultäten im Wintersemester
1899/1900 an der Universität Berlin. Hrsg, von Claus-
Dieter Osthövener. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr Verlag’
Paul Siebeck.
Anthropos 101,2006
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
109
Hartwich, Wolf-Daniel
2000 “Deutsche Mythologie”. Die Erfindung einer nationalen
Kunstreligion. Berlin: Philo.
Henten, Jan Willem van, and Anton Houtepen (eds.)
2001 Religious Identity and the Invention of Tradition. Assen;
Royal Van Gorcum.
Hobsbawm, Eric, and Terence Ranger (eds.)
1983 The Invention of Tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Holmberg, Bengt
1990 Sociology and the New Testament. An Appraisal. Min-
neapolis: Fortress Press.
James, Simon
1999 The Atlantic Celts. Ancient People or Modem Inven-
tion? London: British Museum Press.
Landsberger, Henry A.
1973 Peasant Unrest. Themes and Variations. In: H. A. Lands-
berger (ed.), Rural Protest. Peasant Movements and
Social Change; pp. 1-64. New York: Barnes and Noble.
Lang, Bernhard
1984 George Orwell im gelobten Land. Das Buch Deutero-
nomium und der Geist kirchlicher Kontrolle. In; E. W.
Zeeden und P. Th. Lang (Hrsg.), Kirche und Visitation;
pp. 21-35. Stuttgart: Klett Cotta.
^905 Umkehr/Buße, religionswissenschaftlich. In: P. Eicher
(Hrsg.), Neues Handbuch theologischer Grundbegriffe.
Bd. 4; pp. 382-395. München: Kösel-Verlag. [Neuaus-
gabe]
Lanternari, Vittorio
y68 Religiöse Freiheits- und Heilsbewegungen unterdrück-
ter Völker. Übers, von Friedrich Kollmann. Neuwied:
Hermann Luchterhand Verlag. (Soziologische Texte, 33)
L»Uon, Ralph
65 Nativistic Movements. In: W. A. Lessa and E. Z. Vogt
(eds.), Reader in Comparative Religion. An Anthro-
pological Approach; pp. 499-506. New York: Harper
and Row. [Reprinted from American Anthropologist
45.1943: 230-240]
Lüchesi, Brigitte
91 Wilhelm Emil Mühlmann - Chiliasmus und Nativis-
mus. In; C. F. Feest und K.-H. Kohl (Hrsg.), Haupt-
werke der Ethnologie; pp. 321-326. Stuttgart: Alfred
Kroner Verlag.
'***, Johann
6 Die Qumran-Essener. Die Texte vom Toten Meer. Bd. 1.
München: Emst Reinhardt.
Mühlmann, Wilhelm Emil
1961 Chiliasmus und Nativismus. Studien zur Psychologie,
Soziologie und historischen Kasuistik der Umsturzbe-
wegungen. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. (Studien zur
Soziologie der Revolution, 1)
1969 Chiliasmus. In: W. Bernsdorf (Hrsg.), Wörterbuch der
Soziologie; pp. 156-158. Stuttgart; Ferdinand Enke Ver-
lag. [2. neubearbeitete und erweiterte Aufl.]
Pühofer, Peter
1990 Presbyteron kreitton. Der Altersbeweis der jüdischen
und christlichen Apologeten und seine Vorgeschichte.
Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr Verlag.
Said, Edward W.
1978 Orientalism. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
Schoeck, Helmut
1969 Bewegungen, soziale. In: H. Schoeck, Kleines sozio-
logisches Wörterbuch; pp. 54-55. Freiburg: Verlag Her-
der. (Herderbücherei, 312/313)
Selms, A. van
1973 Temporary Henotheism. In: M. A. Beek et al. (Hrsg.),
Symbolae Biblicae et Mesopotamicae F. M. Th. de Lia-
gre Böhl Dedicatae; pp. 341-348. Leiden: Brill.
Soden, Wolfram von
1994 Der altbabylonische Atramchasis-Mythos. In; O. Kai-
ser (Hrsg.), Texte aus der Umwelt des Alten Testa-
ments. Bd. 3; pp. 612-645. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Ver-
lagshaus.
Smith, Morton
1971 Palestinian Parties and Politics That Shaped the Old
Testament. New York: Columbia University Press.
Steck, Odil Hannes
1967 Israel und das gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten.
Neukirchen-Vluyn; Neukirchener Verlag.
Tarrow, Sidney
1996 Social Movements. In: A. Kuper and J. Kuper (eds.),
The Social Science Encyclopedia; pp. 792-794. Lon-
don: Routledge. [2nd ed.]
Trevor-Roper, Hugh
1983 The Invention of Tradition. The Highland Tradition
of Scotland. In: E. Hobsbawm and T. Ranger (eds.);
pp. 15-41.
Wallace, A. F. C.
1966 Religion. An Anthropological View. New York: Ran-
dom House.
Worsley, Peter
1973 Die Posaune wird erschallen. “Cargo”-Kulte in Melane-
sien. Übers, von M. Kind. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag.
^üth
r°pos 101.2006
SI U Dt A INSTITUTI ANTHROPOS 51
Karl Josef Rivinius
Im Dienst der Mission und
der Wissenschaft
Zur Entstehungsgeschichte
[ der Zeitschrift Anthropos
Reihe : Studia Instituti Anthropos, Band 51
\ Angesichts des im 19. Jahrhundertzunehmen-
[ den Interesses für Völkerkunde und Sprach-
wissenschaft dachte R Wilhelm Schmidt
SVD an die Gründung einer entsprechenden
I Fachzeitschrift. Sie sollte den Missionaren die
; Möglichkeit bieten, darin ihre völkerkundli-
i chen und sprachwissenschaftlichen Arbeiten
zu publizieren, außerdem sie zu Forschungen
in ihrem jeweiligen Lebens- und Wirkungs-
bereich motivieren und anleiten. Schmidt legte zudem besonderen Wert auf den wis-
senschaftlichen Charakter der Zeitschrift, weshalb sie von Anfang an Fachgelehrten,
Nichtkatholiken eingeschlossen, die aktive Mitarbeit anbot. In Februar 1906 erschien das
erste Heft der neuen Zteitschrift für Völker- und Sprachenkunde Anthropos. Vorliegende
Studie behandelt die Genese der Zeitschrift sowie ihre wechselvolle Entwicklung in ihrem
weiteren historischen und situativen Kontext bis zum Jahr 1909.
Karl Josef Rivinius SVD, Jahrgang 1936, Prof. Für Mittlere und Neuere Kirchengeschich-
te mit Einschluss der Missionsgeschichte. Von 1976 bis 2004 Lehrtätigkeit an der Phil.-
Theol. Hochschule SVD St. Augustin. Studium der Theologie, Geschichte und Erzie-
hungswissenschaften in St. Gabriel, Mödling bei Wien, Sankt Augustin und Münster.
Zahlreiche Veröffentlichungen aus den Bereichen Historische Theologie, Missions- und
Sozialgeschichte.
352 Seiten, broschiert,
Fr. 75.-/€50-
ISBN 3-7278-1528-0
Anthropos
101.2006: 111-121
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction
among Arab Communities in the United States
el-Sayed el-Aswad
Abstract - Theorizing identity in and through diasporic com-
munities facilitates a rethinking of the relationship between
mdividuals and their imagined communities of both their home-
!and and new recipient country. This article endeavors to exam-
me Arab Americans’ views of identity, mobility, and belonging
Specially in the post-9/11 world. These views are examined
whhin the perspectives of both Arab American writers and
0rdinary Arab immigrants of the Detroit metropolitan area.
Confronted with diaspora, Arab intellectuals, especially Edward
^aid, have expressed being tom between their commitment to
Universal-human values, their commitment to their new land,
aud their attachment to their homeland. The article analyzes
heir complex positioning and views as compared to the expe-
riences of ordinary immigrant Arab Muslims and non-Muslims,
Particularly Egyptian-Arab immigrants. The study is concerned
tTlUch more with Arab Americans’ lived experience than with
abstract structures and processes. [U.S.A., Arab Americans,
Entity, ethnicity, migration, diaspora]
^ 'bayed el-Aswad, Ph.D. (University of Michigan, Ann Ar-
0rX currently professor of Anthropology at Bahrain Universi-
A,’ P,'ior to this, he held the position of Chair in the Department
Sociology at Tanta University in Egypt. He also taught at
e United Arab Emirates University where he was founder and
ad of the Unit of Anthropological and Folkloric Resources. -
e has published widely in both Arabic and English on such
Pics as Egyptian cosmology (modem and archaic), applied
n tropology, mythology, architecture, and symbolism. - See
Keferences Cited.
tity reconstruction.1 This article examines cultural
practices related to migration as ways in which
migrants experience change in their views of the
world, of themselves, and of other people. For
instance, migrants experience profound changes in
their conceptual-social orientation as they move
from the state of being a “majority” at home to that
of being a “minority” or “diaspora.”2 In another
country, giving rise to feelings of bewilderment
and alienation (ghuraba) with which they have to
cope.
The study is based on ethnographic data col-
lected from twelve case studies representing differ-
ent and multidimensional experiences of Egyptian
Americans living in three metropolitan Detroit,
Michigan communities: Dearborn, West Bloom-
field, and Troy. These case studies reveal some
important and comparative theoretical insights that
help us understand the core features of multiplici-
ty, diversity, and plasticity of Arab American iden-
tity. In addition to library research, in-depth inter-
views and life histories of family members from
delude
^!°bal population movements and transnational
^gration are currently the focus of broad academ-
c debates and involve discussion of such issues as
ftsnational cultural relations, the renovation of
grants’ worldviews, and the dynamics of iden-
1 Anderson 1991; Axel 2004; Clifford 1988; Cohn 1987;
Dirlik 1999; el-Aswad 2004; Kaplan 1996; Kearney 1995;
Rapport and Dawson 1998; Takaki 1993.
2 Diaspora may be understood here as a globally mobile
category of identification as well as something objectively
present in the world today with regard to something else
in the past - the place of origin (Axel 2004: 28; Clifford
1997). Diaspora can be seen as a way of sustaining
connections with more than one place while practicing
nonabsolutist forms of citizenship (Clifford 1997; 9).
112
el-Sayed el-Aswad
different economic, cultural, educational, genera-
tional, and religious backgrounds were extensively
undertaken.
There are three reasons for choosing Egyptian
Americans for this study. First, though they have
succeeded in and contributed to American life,
Egyptian Americans have not been extensively
studied.3 Second, data drawn from Egyptian com-
munities is used to examine to what extent Edward
Said’s ideas of migrant and exilic experiences ex-
press the common views of other Arab Americans
and are not confined to his own case as a dispos-
sessed Palestinian. Finally, Said has been criticized
for his formulation of an exilic space because it
privileges the Third World writers or academic
intellectuals, and not the ordinary migrants who
have come to live and work in the metropolis
(Kaplan 1996: 30).
Said discusses what he calls the “voyage in,”
indicating the movement and integration of Third
World (motherland) thinkers into the metropolitan
First World (new land). Exiled intellectuals write
to “the center” by migrating across a liminal space
separating the First and Third World.4 The notion
of writing refers to an interactive, conscious, open-
ended, and process-oriented practice. However,
Said stated that “liberation has now shifted from
the settled, established, and domesticated dynam-
ics of culture to its unhoused, decentered, and exil-
ic energies, energies whose incarnation today is the
migrant, and whose consciousness is that of the in-
tellectual and artist in exile” (1993: 332). I extend
the concept of “consciousness” to be incarnated
also in the ordinary, nonacademic, or nonartistic
immigrants so as to examine the homology of
their experience. In a word, my argument here is
that ethnographic findings show that the difference
between the intellectual and the ordinary lies in the
difference between two forms of discourse: writing
or documented discourse and narrating or verbal
3 “The Egyptian immigrant is typical of many Arab-Ameri-
cans, according to a report released on Tuesday [3/8/05]
from the U.S. Census Bureau that shows Americans of
Arab ancestry doing very well in this country in terms
of employment, income, homeownership, education and
language skills” (Parry 2005). See also Heath and Krupa
2005.
4 For Edward Said, the term “exile” mediates the diverse
and complex elements of identity and location, serving as
a metaphor for a multilayered investigation of the modem
condition. The relationship between exile as a metaphor
of modernity and exile as a series of specific events and
conditions in time and place functions as a political or
cultural program, and a specific zone for the exploration
of the relationship between nation, identity, and location
(Kaplan 1996; 117).
discourse. If the writer or intellectual, from Said’s
point of view, finds home in writing, ordinary Arab
(Egyptian) Americans make a home in narrating
or telling stories about their faraway homeland,
heritage, and personal memories. In addition, I
have found that other, less formal forms of writ-
ing, that include letters and electronic messages,
are used by ordinary immigrants to convey their
experiences to their relatives and close friends, as
well as to themselves. In a word, for a person
who lost the immediate touch with the homeland,
narrating is considered a discursive social space
providing a novel source of the sense of rootedness
associated with the old homeland. If contemporary
migrant populations are not to appear as weak or
powerless, it is imperative for them to listen to and
tell “a wide range of ‘travel stories’ (not ‘travel lit-
erature’ in the bourgeois sense)” (Clifford 1997: 3,
38). Arab Americans commence their narratives of
identity with their homeland.
The Making of Arab American Double
Identity
Identity - who we are, where we come from, and what
we are - is difficult to maintain in exile (Said 1986: 16)-
I am very proud because I feel that I have within
me “inside me” the most archaic and most modern
dimensions of civilization, Masr um ad-dunya [Egypt*
the mother of the whole world] and Amreka sayyidat
al-‘alam [America, the master of the whole world]. (An
Egyptian American interviewee).
The practice of identity constitutes and transforms
the actors and is the dynamic behind the creation
of specific configurations of meaning (Friedman
1995: 74). Migrants repudiate permanent assimila'
tion, preferring to develop transnational networks
that span their home and host society (Basch
et al. 1994). Because the immigrant sees thing8
both in terms of what has been left behind and
what is actually here and now, they develop a
new identity encompassing “double perspective
(Said 1996: 60).5 Put somewhat differently, there
has been a tremendous change among Arab im-
migrants manifested in the transition from static
to dynamic views of space and time as well as
from a limited number of alternatives to unlimited
options and open possibilities combining modem
and traditional components. Arab Americans have
5 “Edward Said demonstrates the often paradoxical natute_
of identity in an increasingly migratory and global world
(Ashcroft and Ahluwalia 1999: 7).
Anthropos 101.2006
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab Communities in the United States
113
experienced a gradually emerging sense of iden-
tity framed by the American culture as well as
by the deep consciousness of, and identification
with, the old homeland. Within this context, Said
produced a theory of double identity regarding an
intellectual who identifies himself as alienated and
distanced, yet deeply tied to both Western and
non-Western cultural elements (Kaplan 1996: 115).
Said (1996: 48) argues that there “is a popular but
wholly mistaken assumption that being exiled is
to be totally cut off, isolated, hopelessly separated
from your place of origin.”
Double identity is a dynamic construct. It in-
volves a continuous process open to multiple op-
tions and choices. On considering the relation-
ship between migration and changing identities,
4 is important to realize that the range of pos-
sibilities of choices leading to greater flexibility
ln identity construction, which can be anticipated
by migrants, is significant. However, some iden-
tities may be dissolved or vanished in the new
society, while other identities gain new dimen-
sions. Personal and cultural identities are never
§iven but are negotiated, constituted, and validat-
eb through ongoing interactions. The dynamic of
^entity formation entails construction and recon-
struction throughout the life-course of individuals
and groups and through their diverse roles, posi-
ti°ns, and situations (Melucci 1996).
The concept of double identity and the issue of
fr*e ongoing pendulum swing between the margin
Periphery and the center or between, respective-
ly the old home and the new land, are represented,
0r example, in the language. The conflict with
anguage reflects identity conflict. As Said stat-
e<T “I always have the sense that I’m not really
gifting in my own language ... I use English,
ut I was brought up speaking Arabic ... I have
Tever known what language I spoke first, Arabic or
^glish, or which one was really mine beyond any
°ubt. What I do know, however, is that the two
. ave always been together in my life, one resonat-
es in the other, sometimes ironically, sometimes
a°stalgically, most often each correcting, and corn-
anting on, the other. Each can seem like my
^ solutely first language, but neither is” (1999: 4).
aving iost j^s country in early youth, Said wrote
^ ten that he never felt fully at home anywhere
j QoXcePt perhaps in the “country of words” (Said
t ° v- The new generations of Arab Americans
s Ce the problem of deficiency or insufficiency of
peaking or understanding Arabic. In an electronic
Ssage sent to his father working overseas, a 15
^ar-old Egyptian American high school student
Anth;
iroPos 101.2006
Dear baba,
I don’t know exactly what I am. Am I American or
Egyptian? I mean, if I am Egyptian, why do I know
English so much better and why do I feel like this (the
U.S.) is my true home. But, if I am American, why
do I hate prejudice found almost everywhere here? I
am confused and this has been bugging me a lot. I am
wondering if you can help me with this. It seems like
I don’t fit in either place. Anyway, how are you baba?
I hope everything is tamam [perfect] there. Ok baba,
Salam.
Arab Americans who carry on their Arabic lan-
guage are eager to communicate in that language
at least in the personal and private zones. Even
among Arabs who do not speak Arabic, an inter-
viewee recounted that he could not tolerate the
situation in which he became “mute and deaf’
in utililizing the Arabic language. He blamed his
parents for that. I interviewed some elderly Egyp-
tian Americans who regretted that they did not
maintain the Arabic language. A retired scholar
in Arabic literature recounted that his children,
now in the American mainstream, cannot enjoy
the beauty of Arabic literature including poems.
There is an urgent need for the American society or
government to know more about Arabic language
and culture.
Prior to September 11, 2001, many Arab Amer-
icans achieved prosperity in business, academia,
engineering, and other fields and as such were
successful and mainstreamed in U.S. society and
politics.6 However, one reads that on “September
11, 2001, Arab Detroit entered its own state of
emergency. Its image as ‘an immigrant success
story,’ as ‘the capital of Arab America,’ changed
within hours of the attacks; suddenly, it was a
scene of threat, divided loyalties, and potential
backlash” (Shryock 2002; 917). Such a sketchy
and impressionistic conclusion, made immediate-
ly after the 9/11 event, however, does not say
how Arab Americans survived such a tragedy.
Shryock goes on to say, “In the days following
September 11, Arab Detroit was awash in Amer-
ican flags. They were displayed prominently in
the windows of liquor stores and comer groceries,
they flew over gas stations, they even adorned
churches and mosques. Flags were worn around
throats, affixed to lapels, and tattooed into the
skin. For some, American flags were talismanic
shields; for others, they were defiant assertions
of patriotism. Many non-Arab and non-Muslim
observers thought it was all for show - some of
6 Boosahda 2003; El Guindi 2003; Abraham and Shryock
2000; Suleiman 1999.
114
it was, of course - but this skeptical attitude only
proved how hard it was for Arabs and Muslims
to be seen as ‘authentically’ American” (2002:
918 f.).
American reaction to the events of September
11 have made the feelings of exile more visible
and prevalent among Arab Americans who have
experienced a variety of forms of discrimination
stereotyping based on factors such as race and
ethnicity, inability to speak the language, dress,
customs, and religion.7 Some critical dimensions
of these stereotypes go back to the way West-
ern scholars misrepresented the Arab or East as
a changeless, passive, dependent “other” (Said
1979). At the personal level, Edward Said, be-
fore 9/11 and in his book, “Orientalism” (1979),
positioned himself as an Arab intellectual in the
West, and as such was subject to the very web
of racism, cultural stereotypes, and dehumaniz-
ing ideology. As unfairness and discrimination in-
crease, many Arab immigrants experience a sense
of alienation (ghurba) and consequently an identity
crisis. Alienation in both the diaspora and home-
land has become the core concern of what might
be named “double exile” (Said 1984). Some in-
terviewees, both Muslim and Christian, recounted
that they changed their names, hid their faith, and
did their best to keep low profile so as to live with-
out fear of discrimination. Regardless of the rich
experience and success of many Arab Americans,
these passive perceptions have changed to take
on a destructive and ungodly face after 9/11.8 An
American Egyptian female working on her Ph.D.
reflected that the reaction of the United States to
the event of 9/11/01 was metaphorically akin to
the forceful movement of the whale in the story
of Sindbad when some sailors lit the fire and the
island (that was actually a whale) on which they
7 “In the United States the biophysical features of different
populations, which had become markers of social status,
were internalized as sources of individual and group identi-
ties” (Smedley 1998:695). Ethnic archetypes and negative
stereotyping of the Arab Americans have been addressed
by scholars such as Edward Said (1979, 1983, 2001), Jack
Shaheen (1997, 2001), Suad Joseph (1999), Edmund Gha-
reeb (1983), Stockton (1994), among others. It is worthy
to observe that “there is no box on the census forms for
Arab Americans in the ethnicity section, as there is for
Asians or Hispanics, for example. Instead, Arab Americans
tend to check the box for white or other” (El Guindi 2003:
631).
8 Arab Americans suffered a serious backlash immediately
following September 11, 2001. The worst elements of this
backlash, including an increase in the incidence of violent
hate crimes, were concentrated in the first nine weeks
following the attacks. See H. Ibish, “Report on Hate Crimes
and Discriminations against Arab Americans” (2003).
el-Sayed el-Aswad
landed suddenly and violently began to tremble
and move.9
For Arab Americans the world, regionally and
globally, is becoming increasingly insecure and
merciless. In an interview with a young man from
Egyptian descent, he recounted:
Today, my former friend and I got into a fight. It started
when another friend and I were joking about future
careers (lawyers, doctors, and such). The upset friend
thought we were making fun of him when we mentioned
that he was rich and probably did not have to work for
the rest of his entire life. He at first started swearing
at me and calling me pretty obscene names, but I did
not take that personally. I just called him a spoiled little
child. He then fired back and started to make fun of my
race and religion. He started calling me an Arab terrorist
and a suicidal Muslim fanatic “like the rest of the Iraqis
and Palestinians.” I don’t know why? ... [pause] I do
not know that he holds such negative notions about me
and my culture though we are supposed to be friends.
In the previous statement, one easily observes that
an insignificant dispute or disagreement was es-
calated from personal or individual level to stig-
matize the whole Muslim culture and Arab na-
tions. Not only Muslims, but also Christians from
Arab descent suffer from the stereotyping against
Arabs in general because of physical appearance,
language and customs.10 Arab Americans try to
prevail over such stereotypes. It is worthy to note
that the negative attitude toward Arabs does not
differentiate between Muslims and Christians be-
cause both of them have the same physical fea-
tures. And the negative attitude toward Muslims as
being fanatic and terroristic does not differentiate
between Arab and non-Arab. This new situation is
reflected in a statement of one of Egyptian Amer-
icans. ‘Ali, a dentist living in West Bloomfield’
asserted:
9 From the stories of voyages of Sindbad the Sailor, the Fhst
Voyage of Sindbad indicates that Sindbad, like many ltn'
migrants of today, left his native country to seek economic
security for his future. With the permission of the captain-
some sailors on the ship disembarked upon a small island
that looked “like a green meadow.” After strolling for som6
time, they lit a fire. Once they lit the fire, the island began 1°
tremble. The sailors were surprised by a sudden and violet
movement of the island. At that point, they realized that the
island was actually a whale. The whale plunged into the
depths of the ocean and some of the sailors were thrown
to the sea, while others scrambled for the boat (HaddaV)
1992).
10 In Chicago, in the late fall of 2001, an Assyrian churd1
on
on the north side and an Arab community organization J
the southwest side were damaged by arson. The refim
community center was again vandalized in March, 20
(Cainkar 2002).
Anthropos 101.20°^
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab Communities in the United States
115
America is a multicultural society as well as the land
of opportunity. This opportunity is for everybody re-
gardless to her/his ethnic background. I have friends
from different cultural backgrounds and I do not have
Problems with any particular ethnic group. But after
September 11, solid evidence has shown that only cer-
tain kinds of multicultures or ethnic groups are accept-
able, while others are “questionable.” If a person belongs
to the “questionable” culture or group, he/she may be
unwelcome. This issue generates a big question mark for
tue, especially here in the land of freedom. Some stories
of incidents that occurred to some Arabs and Muslims
following September 11, when government officials and
Policemen targeted the citizens based on suspicion and
n°t on evidence, made me feel as if I were living in a
Third World country.11
Mobility and Plasticity of Arab American
identity
‘Identities vary, and people have multiple identi-
ties. You can be from Egypt and be a Christian
0r a Muslim as well as from this family or that
family and from this college or that. Identities
also change. The culture and language of an ethnic
§roup can change while ethnicity persists” (Aswad
2001; 2). Migration is a prototypical rite of passage
Evolving transition in space, territory, and group
ti'ernbership. Said (1983) portrays the intellectual
Tfigrant as a border-crosser who occupies a lim-
lr,al space that mediates between nations, politi-
cul organizations, and academic affiliations - as
'Vell as between “text” and “world,” and past and
Present. The transnational identity is not confined
to geographical borders, rather it develops dual
c°Psciousness bridging multiple real and imagined
sPaces. This transnational identity recalls the folk
archetype of Sindbad the Sailor of the Arabian
lNJlghts, a metaphor used by one of the interviewees
k Indicate a role model for successful adventure
tiat goes beyond locality, regionality, and nation-
Meanwhile, local narratives in Egypt glorify
. success of Egyptian immigrants in such a lead-
lng and powerful country as the United States.
Edward Said initiated the question of “traveling
e°ries,” suggesting the idea that travel gener-
is a complex system of cultural representation
at depends not on power but on motion and
I 1 rpu
tle problem of targeting Muslims and Arabs has ex-
Unded to scholars and those working (or who applied
w°rk) in institutions and academic centers. For more
Incidents related to Campus Watch, visit, for example,
,e following websites: <http://www.danielpipes.org/> and
^ t,;p://www.campus-watch.org/>.
Anth
willingness to go into different worlds, use dif-
ferent languages, and understand a multiplicity of
disguises, masks, and rhetorics. Travelers must
suspend the claim of customary routine in order
to live in new rhythms and rituals (Said 1983).
Being positioned on the boundary that signifies the
division between home and away inspired Said to
reflect on the experience of an intellectual who
identifies himself as distanced or alienated and
deeply tied to both Western and non-Western cul-
tural elements (Kaplan 1996; 115). This statement,
one argues, establishes a common ground between
Said’s thought and the experience of ordinary Arab
Americans. The concept of movement implies the
spreading of cultural elements beyond the confine-
ments of locality. In an interview with a principle
of an elementary school in Dearborn, an Amer-
ican with non-Arab descent told me, “The more
I know about Arab American culture in America
the more I know about the Middle East and the
Arab world, I wish I could speak Arabic.” This
phrase, acknowledging the spread and diversity of
Arab culture, emphasizes the bond between Arab
Americans and their homeland as seen not only
from an insider’s view but also from an outsider’s.
Mobility and plasticity of Arab American iden-
tity is represented in what Samir, a manager of a
reputable department store, calls gahiz, a multi-
dimensional term including simultaneous mean-
ings of being “ready,” “smart,” “alert,” “sharp,”
“capable,” and “on the move.” With a great enthu-
siasm, he said:
I’m having a new identity that brings new strengths to
me. It is a unique blend of both the traditional and “new”
or modern sides of “me.” It is a combination of sameness
and difference as well as a blend of various aspects of
“third world” and “first world” in one entity. It is like
speaking two languages by the same person.
Samir emphasizes engaging in hard work to prove
that the stereotype of idle Arab is wrong. Arabs
are fighting for a better image of themselves and
their people in the old homeland. As Hassan, a car-
wash worker observed, “Here, there is no fahlawy”
(Egyptian folk character akin to Jack-of-all-trades-
master-of-none). By this he meant that he works
hard not only to gain material things and social
prestige but also, and most importantly, to avoid
the failure that could generate double criticism
that could come from both the kin overseas and
the people (Arabs and Americans) in the United
States.
Through his experiences with multiple ethnic
groups, Samir, like other Egyptian Americans, has
Topos 101.2006
116
el-Sayed el-Aswad
developed strong global awareness without loosing
his identification with his motherland or Egyp-
tianness. Egyptian Americans embody the “double
identity” or dual citizenship according to which
there is a new identity, i.e., the U.S. citizenship
added to his/her preexisting Egyptian nationali-
ty. Put differently, though Egyptian interviewees
expressed their objective in having a new iden-
tity through being American citizens, they also
stressed their sincere desire to keep their Egyptian
identity. Those who came as immigrants confirmed
that they had come to the United States to have a
good education, occupation, or job, and a gracious
and conducive environment that appreciates their
potential and industriousness. “I am proud to come
to America as well as to be American. This feel-
ing of pride is doubled when I go visit relatives
back home,” Samir recounted. He also said: “I
am settled in movement. I work hard here and I
make modest fortune I would never make in my
homeland,12 even if I spend my whole life there.
But, there is no relax here in the United States.
I like to go home to see and visit my relatives,
friends, and beloved places as well as to relax.”
It is not a matter of divided loyalty leading to
split personality as some intellectuals might think,
but rather a matter of longing for roots, real or
imagined, in the homeland and full acceptance in
the new land. Double identity encompasses a form
of double or transnational belonging (Coutin 2003;
Kearney 2000).
The sense of the ghurba, however, is generated
from the tension owing to the ongoing process of
selecting the best values and modes of behavior
found separately in both Egypt and the United
States, on the one hand, and rejecting certain pat-
terns of behavior dominant in the two countries, on
the other. Regarding Egypt, Samir points out that
he loves the country and would like to retire there
but the deteriorating economy makes him insecure
indicating that prestigious institutes such as public
universities suffer from inadequate facilities and
meager funding and government employees in-
cluding professors are poorly paid or insufficiently
“subsidized.”
12 According to a recent report (Parry 2005), “Arab-American
men and women earn more than their counterparts in the
general population. The median salary for men in 1999, the
most recent statistics available, was $ 41,700, compared
with $ 37,100 for American men as a whole. For women,
the average salary was $ 31,800, compared with $ 27,200
for all American women.” But the population in Metro
Detroit, one of the nation’s largest hubs for people of Arab
descent, defies a national trend of Arabs being wealthier
and better-educated than other Americans (Heath and Krupa
2005).
Samir asserts that the good thing in the United
States is that people respect the one who does not
deny his/her identity (roots). “No one can escape
his/her social skin,” Samir narrated saying that he
had been frequently asked by persons belonging
to different ethnic groups if he were Egyptian.
He responded affirmatively to this question. In
ghurba (far away from the homeland) one becomes
more Egyptian than in Egypt. Samir, for instance,
believes that he thinks about the homeland more
than those who live there. Other interviewees do
not accept such a view arguing that people living
in Egypt experience alienation (ghurba) because of
the difficulty and hardship of life. However, such a
view is refuted by Egyptian Americans, especially
successful businessmen, who like to invest their
capital and experience in various projects in Egypt
maintaining economic, social, and political ties
with the homeland.
Though Muslims in America found in the com-
mon acknowledgment of their Islamic identity a
bond for social cohesion, the Arab American iden-
tity goes beyond the borders of religious affiliation
in such a way that a non-Muslim Arab can ex-
press common ideas notwithstanding religious or
Islamic implications. In his work, “The Clash of
Ignorance”, Said (2001) argues that “[if we] think
of the populations today of France, Italy, Germany»
Spain, Britain, America, even Sweden, [we] must
concede that Islam is no longer on the fringes
of the West but at its center ... in the creation
of this new line of defense the West drew on
the humanism, science, philosophy, sociology and
historiography of Islam ... Islam is inside from the
start.”13 * This sophisticated statement is expressed
though differently by ordinary Arab Americans-
For instance, in an interview with a veiled Muslim
woman of Egyptian descent, moving from a pm
vate or personal reaction to a universal or global
consideration, she narrated:
Americans became sensitive against Muslims after 9/11-
I do not want to stereotype. Like me, some women
preferred to stay at home to avoid troubles, but could
not avoid going out. On the one hand, I work and, °n
the other, I did not do anything wrong. I found out tha1
sometimes cultures can force people from other cultures
to give up some of their beliefs to make themselves
safe, so they have to adapt living without practicing
some of what they believe. That makes those peopk
from other cultures suffer in silence. Surprisingly, d16
problems we faced and the dangerous atmosphere 'v6
were involved in, turned out to have benefits which've
13 For further information on the global aspect of Islam see
Schmidt 2004, and el-Aswad 2000, 2002, 2005.
101-20°6
Anthropos
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab Communities in the United States
117
never thought of nor dreamed about. Now we are known
all over the world and our religion begins to spread out
faster than before. People want to know more about the
only religion almost all non-Muslim countries fight, or
at least, do not like, and abuse.
It is worthy to observe that an Arab American
scholar, El Guindi, reviewing a book on Arab
Americans in Detroit, and commenting on their
new condition, stated that the book jacket of “Arab
Detroit” (Abraham and Shryock 2000) expresses
what was until recently an accepted fact, namely,
quoting the authors, that despite the “complex and
rich world the Arabic-speaking immigrants have
created [this group remained] barely visible on
the landscape of ethnic America” (in El Guindi
2003: 634). El Guindi, however, said; “Interesting-
ly this observation was made before the attacks on
New York and Washington, D.C., on September
U, 2001. I say this is no more the case. Almost
overnight Arabs and Muslims have become the
uiost visible, the most targeted, and the least un-
derstood ethnic group in America. Public interest
ln Arab and Muslim Americans and Islam has ex-
ponentially multiplied since those attacks” (634).14
The optimistic side of the picture, however,
18 represented in the preservation of Arab and
Muslim heritage on U.S. soil as embodied in two
grand cultural events that occurred in Dearborn,
Michigan: the opening of the Arab American Na-
tional Museum on Thursday, May 5, 2005 and the
°pening of the largest mosque in the United States
°u Thursday, May 12, 2005.15 While Mansour,
a 35-year-old Dearborn resident of Egyptian de-
Scent, and his friends observed pictures, musical
Instruments, and other artifacts inside the newly
inaugurated Arab American National Museum (the
first museum to be established about Arab Amen-
ds), he remarked, “We are finally represented in
an excellent way. We can confirm that we are now
Part of American life.”
family Double Identity
all Arab Americans, Egyptian Americans value
amily to a great extent. They value their origi-
N Despite these difficulties and hostilities, “growing numbers
°f immigrant Muslims in all areas of the Western world
are now opting to be more visible” (Haddad and Smith
ne new Dearborn mosque (70,000-square-foot with gold-
domes costing $15 million) was established by the Islamic
Center of America to serve as a spiritual home for metro
otroit’s Arab American population.
Anthropos 101.2006
nal birthplace and are eager to be in touch with
their family members left behind. Family is an
important part of Arab American identity.16 The
prevailing sense of Arabs’ personal identity is de-
rived from the family. Though Arab Americans
have developed a great sense of individual self-
determination motivating them toward taking the
risk of migration, they still adhere to family ties
and values. A middle age father from Egyptian
descent said: “to avoid the fright of ‘scattered
identity’ we hang on to the family where we ‘as
members of the family’ find unity, security, and
warm feelings.” However, a person can be identi-
fied as an individual with double identity related
to the family as well as to two nationalities, real or
imagined. The Arab Americans accentuate social
bonds including intimate relations with members
of the immediate family as well as kin mem-
bers living in the original country. The qualities
Arab immigrants use to distinguish themselves
from each other (nationality, religion, village of
region, clan affiliation) do almost nothing to weak-
en the basic likeness, the “family resemblance” of
Arab kinships (Shryock 2000; 575). Among Arab
Americans personal contact and participation in
social activities, rituals, and gatherings, work as
profound factors unifying them. It is true that a
person can identify Arab artifacts, food, and dress,
the most important clue is the domestic sphere
or family life. Inside the houses, Arab Americans
from various homelands surround themselves with
Arab artifacts, pictures, and drawings, among other
things, that demarcate specific groups or families
as belonging to Egyptian, Palestinian, or Lebanese
countries.
Although the family plays a significant role in
Arab American lives, however, some interviewees
questioned if this sort of social and familial intima-
cy is still effective in a changing environment of
the United States where people move from place
to another without having enough time to establish
or maintain social relationships. Family ties both
in the new and old homelands, one argues, lead to
the empowering of double identities where Arabs
maintain bonds or ties to multiple societies and
cultures. However, this does not mean that family
bonds and solidarity never experience different
sorts of pressure caused by changes in socioeco-
nomic conditions and growing expectations of new
generations.
In this changing environment, Egyptian Amer-
icans as well as other Arab Americans have had
16 Aswad and Bilge 1996; Aswad and Gray 1996; Aswad
1997, 2001.
118
el-Sayed el-Aswad
new experiences with regard to family relation-
ships. By this I mean that the families they leave
behind in the old country and those they develop
in the new country are still the core of Arab Amer-
icans’ interest or concern. For instance, during
the difficult time where Arabs face all sorts of
prejudice and harsh treatment members of Arab
families seek emotional support from each other
feeling that they are not alone but are socially and
economically supported.
Muslim and Christian Arab families both have
the same general family organization and rules,
which often are incorrectly characterized as Islam-
ic (Aswad 2001). The marriage between an Arab
and an American, or non-Arab spouse, in which
the Arab side, as seen from most of the cases
being studied, has had a positive impact on the
overall well-being of its members. Tradition and
modernity are fused in the Arab American family
notwithstanding the tension implicit in them. Put
differently, the family functions as a unifying tie
not only between Arab spouses exclusively but
also between Arab and American spouses. The
spouses’ identities are interweaved with each oth-
er in their new families creating a double out-
look with new symbols and meanings. In a word,
Arab immigrants constitute and reconstitute new
meanings for their families. If family resemblance
is a social fact among Arab American members
including spouses, there is what I call “family
interdependence” between spouses with Egyptian
(Arab) and American (non-Arab) descent. It is
the positive aspect of the traditional life that is
appreciated by American spouses. In this sense,
the Arab family contributes a social heritage to
the American society opening other solid pro-
found ties outside the exclusive meaning of Arab
kinship.
In her study of immigrants from Salvador, Su-
san Coutin (2003), discussing the naturalization
ceremony in California, reported that “one judge
told the new citizens that when a Muslim im-
migrant had married his daughter, it had added
to his family’s traditions. The judge then jumped
from his family to the nation, stating, ‘[This is]
just another extension of what we’re doing here
today. We’re bringing new people, we’re bring-
ing new strengths. We’re gonna blend them to-
gether’” (515). She noted that “As heritages, dif-
ferences became a source of unity” (515). The
experience of Arab American family, especial-
ly the one that is made of Arab and Ameri-
can spouses, puts ethnocentric dichotomies such
as “West versus the rest” (Huntington 1993) to the
test.
Communication and Global Navigation
It is hard to find in the world today a family or
community that has not already had a member,
relative, or friend migrate to another geographical
locality or return home with narrations of stories
and possibilities. Within this migratory context,
media or mass-mediated events play a significant
role (Appadurai 1996: 17). Everyone now is being
propelled into a life of perpetual mobility, whether
of the imagination, the body, or both (Rapport and
Dawson 1998; 4). However, advanced technolog-
ical means of communication such as the Inter-
net and mobile phones, transcending geographical
barriers have enhanced social ties between immi-
grants and their relatives and friends in the home-
land.
The new challenge of Arab Americans (includ-
ing Edward Said) lies in the transnational or double
identity they have constructed. They have to cope
with both the old localizing strategies (kin-based
societies, bounded communities, organic cultures,
region, nation, for instance) and the new global-
izing strategies accounting for transnational cir-
cuits of culture, identity, and capital.17 In the new
land, Arabs or Egyptian Americans look for social
networks (relatives, friends) to lessen the feeling
of alienation (ghurba). Ghurba implies meanings
of absence (ightirab) from the homeland, alien-
ation and, most importantly, the “otherness” and
“strangeness” persons experience in a new or un-
familiar environment. The sense of alienation or
ghurba has deepened not only because of being
away from the homeland or being in a new mi-
lieu, but also because the insecure environment
in the new country especially since September
11, 2001 when Arabs and Muslim had been mis'
takenly stigmatized, relatively isolated, and made
targets of racial assault.18 This calamity has gen-
erated a soul-searching orientation to socially and
religiously cope with the crisis’ negative conse-
quences.19
17 Schiller, Basch, and Blanc (1995) elaborated the concept
of “transmigration” to refer to the way in which migrant8
create and develop ties to multiple societies, rather than
leaving their society to join another for good.
18 The image of Arab Americans changed within hours of the
September 11 attacks (Shryock 2000; Varisco 2002).
19 Cainkar (2002) observed that during the 1990s, a major shift
in identification, affiliation, and behavior occurred among
a significant proportion of Arab Muslims in Chicago. Thoh
primary affiliation changed from secular to religious. ThA
began to identify as Muslims first, and Arabs, Palestinian8-
or Jordanians second. Mosques and religious institutions
placed secular community centers as locales for communié
social life, organizing, and education. Secular Arab studen
101.2006
Anthropos
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab Communities in the United States
119
In a world of migrations and TV satellites, the
policing of frontiers and borders can never be
absolute, or not for long (Clifford 1997: 9 f.). One
of the major changes in the worldviews of Arab
immigrants is their effort to look for and use other
alternatives for enhancing their communication in
unconventional ways. This change is embodied
in the usage of the most up-to-date electronic
means of communication. Cyberspace and Internet
sites provide other avenues for bridging Arab
Americans with their homeland. Communication
networks and transnational media have provided
them with a wonderful opportunity to unite their
interests in order to benefit from the diverse
material and cultural resources.
The interplay between local and global scenar-
ios is reflected in the mass media and popular
culture. Though Arab satellites are globally ori-
ented, they are viewed by Egyptian Americans as
^presenting local concerns of their (Arab) home-
land. Although A1 Jazeera (the satellite station
based in Qatar) still dominates, other channels,
such as Egypt Satellite, NILE, LBC, Dubai, and
MBC among others, are challenging its grip on
Arab viewers both in the United States and other
Western-oriented countries and overseas. From an
Egyptian American’s point of view these channels
have developed different perspectives and conflict-
lng views even in dealing with the very same
event. These different and conflicting channels,
however, attract the Arab American viewers for
lhe fact that they offer different perspectives from
^ose of Western or American channels, such as
CNN, Fox, and the BBC.
Arab satellite stations present critical programs
aud talk shows inviting eminent Arab thinkers as
WeH as Western and American intellectuals to dis-
CUss issues related to liberty, democracy, peace, vi-
olence, civil rights, and regional conflicts. Among
h°se interviewed have been successful Egyptian
Americans who have been portrayed as role mod-
^ s for the new generation especially those in the
°uieland. Talk shows include various topics and
vurious programs engaged in religious, political,
hhd economic debates and work to reduce spatial
Visions as well as to accentuate temporal connec-
,lQus between Arab Americans and their members
|h the homeland. This all occurs instantaneously,
unsnationally and at the push of a button.
•Organizations dwindled while Muslim student organizations
thrived. Muslim women who in the 1980s did not cover
their hair began to do so. Islam became more than a private
Way of life; it became a public, active way of being.
Anth
Conclusion
The goal of this research is to understand the dy-
namics of identity construction through novel ar-
ticulations of writings of Arab American intellec-
tuals and folk theories represented in narrations of
ordinary Arab immigrants. Scholarly Arab Amer-
ican writings, especially of the late Edward Said,
have played a critical role not only in documenting
social and political events, but also in alerting
the nation and local communities of the conse-
quences of the negative attitudes that prevailed
after 9/11, thus providing a platform for discus-
sions and potential solutions of problems facing
Arab migrants.
This article has highlighted the significance of
migration, narration, family, religion, and media
as ground for the formation of Arab American
identity in both public and private zones. The
movement between local and global spheres has
played a major role in creating a particular sense
of Arab immigrants’ identity attached to both
local and global communities. Arab American
identity, one argues, has been shaped by many
factors but particularly by continuing interactions
between conditions in the old and new homelands
and by the interplay between their perceptions of
themselves and how others see them.
Akin to other Arab Americans, Egyptian im-
migrants have moved to the new world of the
U.S.A. participating in its modem life, while at
the same time striving to preserve their cultural
heritage. Egyptian Americans are ambitious, en-
ergetic, and highly motivated individuals, mobile
in a globally changing world. Those who have
shown a distance from their old homeland are not
against the country or their culture as such, but
rather against the politico-economic corruption.
Despite their successes, however, there is a sense
of alienation or ghurba that has been deepened not
only because of being away from the homeland or
being in a new milieu, but also, and more critically,
because the insecure environment in the new coun-
try especially since September 11, 2001. Though
Arab immigrants tend to identify themselves with
broader identity of Arabism or being Arab as well
as of Americanism, they show a very strong sense
of their motherland identity.20
The migration of Egyptians to the United States
is viewed here as integral not only to the global
20 See Dirlik (1999). He discusses the experience of Asian
Americans who identify themselves with their origins in
local societies.
lroPos 101.2006
120
el-Sayed el-Aswad
economy but also to global processes of transfor-
mation of multiple identities. Arab Americans now
are more visible through their success in represent-
ing their identity as well as in economic, political,
and public life.
This is a revised version of a paper presented at the
“Conference of Arab-American Writing Post 9/11,”
organized and held by Tufts University, April 24-25,
2004.
References Cited
Abraham, Nabeel, and Andrew Shryock (eds.)
2000 Arab Detroit. From Margin to Mainstream. Detroit:
Wayne State University Press.
Anderson, Benedict
1991 Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Origin and
Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Appadurai, Arjun
1996 Modernity at Large. Cultural Dimensions of Global-
ization. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
(Public Worlds, 1)
Ashcroft, Bill, and Pal Ahluwalia
1999 Edward Said. The Paradox of Identity. London; Rout-
ledge.
Aswad, Barbara C.
1997 Arab American Families. In: M. K. DeGenova (ed.),
Families in Cultural Context. Strengths and Challenges
in Diversity; pp. 205-229. Mountain View: Mayfield
Publications.
2001 Social Dynamics and Identity. Family, Gender, and
Community Organization. (Paper presented at the Con-
ference of “American Arabs. History, Identity, Assimi-
lation, Participation,” Washington, November 1, 2001.)
<http://wwics.si.edu/index.cfm ?topic_id=1427&
fuseaction=topics.event_summary&event_id=8410>
Aswad, Barbara C., and Nancy Adadow Gray
1996 Challenges to the Arab-American Family and ACESS.
In: B. C. Aswad and B. Bilgé (eds.); pp. 223-240.
Aswad, Barbara C., and Barbara Bilgé (eds.)
1996 Family and Gender among American Muslims. Issues
Facing Middle Eastern Immigrants and Their Descen-
dants. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Axel, Brian Keith
2004 The Context of Diaspora. Cultural Anthropology 19:
26-60.
Basch, Linda, Nina Click Schiller, and Cristina Szanton
Blanc
1994 Nations Unbound. Transnational Projects, Postcolonial
Predicaments, and Deterritorialized Nation-States. Lon-
don: Routledge.
Boosahda, Elizabeth
2003 Arab-American Faces and Voices. The Origins of an
Immigrant Community. Austin: University of Texas
Press.
Cainkar, Louise
2002 No Longer Invisible Arab and Muslim Exclusion after
September 11. Middle East Report 224: 22-29.
Clifford, James
1988 The Predicament of Culture. Twentieth-Century Ethnog-
raphy, Literature, and Art. Cambridge: Harvard Univer-
sity Press.
1997 Routes. Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth
Century. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Cohn, Bernard S.
1987 An Anthropologist among the Historians and Other
Essays. Delhi: Oxford University Press.
Coutin, Susan Bibler
2003 Cultural Logics of Belonging and Movement. Transna-
tionalism, Naturalization, and U.S. Immigration Poli-
tics. American Ethnologist 30: 508-526.
Dirlik, Arif
1999 Asians on the Rim. Transnational Capital and Local
Community in the Making of Contemporary Asian
America. In: E. Hu-DeHart (ed.), Across the Pacif-
ic. Asian Americans and Globalization; pp. 29-60-
Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
el-Aswad, el-Sayed
2000 Muslim Sermons. (Public Discourse in Local and Glob-
al Scenarios, presented at the 99th Annual Meeting
of the AAA [Invited Secession: Media-Mediated Is-
lam and the Middle East. Giving the Virtual a Reali-
ty Check], Nov. 15-19.) <http://www.inter-nation.org/
Features/InterNation-Muslim_Sermons.htm>
2002 Religion and Folk Cosmology. Scenarios of the Visible
and Invisible in Rural Egypt. Westport: Praeger Press.
2004 Viewing the World through Upper Egyptian Eyes. From
Regional Crisis to Global Blessing. In: N. Hopkins
and R. Saad (eds.), Upper Egypt. Identity and Change;
pp. 55-78. Cairo: AUC in Cairo Press.
2005 Book Review of Schmidt 2004. Digest of Middle East
Studies 14: 78-81.
El Guindi, Fadwa
2003 Arab and Muslim America. Emergent Scholarship, Ne"'
Visibility, Conspicuous Gap in Academe. American
Anthropologist 105:631-634.
Friedman, Jonathan
1995 Global System, Globalization, and the Parameters of
Modernity. In; M. Featherstone, S. Lash, and R. Robef-
ston (eds.), Global Identities; pp. 69-90. London: Sage
Publication.
Ghareeb, Edmund
1983 Split Vision. The Portrayal of Arabs in the American
Media. Washington: American-Arab Affairs Council-
Grimes, Kimberly M.
1998 Crossing Borders. Changing Social Identities in South-
ern Mexico. Tucson: University of Arizona Press.
Haddad, Yvonne Yazbeck, and Jane Smith
2002 Muslim Minorities in the West. Visible and Invisible-
Walnut Creek: AltaMira Press.
Haddawy, Husain
1992 The Arabian Nights (Alf lailah wa-lailah). Transl. by
Haddawy. New York; Knopf.
101-2006
Anthropos
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab Communities in the United States
121
Heath, Brad, and Gregg Krupa
2005 Arab-Americans Wealthier, Better Educated. But Cen-
sus Figures Find Metro Detroiters Are An Excep-
tion to This Nationwide Trend. The Detroit News.
<http://www.detnews.com/2005/metro/0503/10/B01-
112169.htm>
Huntington, Samuel
1993 The Clash of Civilizations? Foreign Affair 72/3: 22-49.
Ibish, Hussein (ed.)
2003 Report on Hate Crimes and Discriminations against
Arab Americans. The Post - September 11 Backlash
(September 11, 2001 - October 11, 2002. Washing-
ton: American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee.
<http://www.911 investigations .net/document1276.html>
Joseph, Suad
1999 Against the Grain of the Nation - The Arab. In: M. Su-
leiman (ed.); pp: 257-271.
Kaplan, Caren
1^96 Questions of Travel. Postmodern Discourses of Dis-
placement. Durham: Duke University Press.
Kearney, Michael
1995 The Local and the Global. The Anthropology of Glob-
alization and Transnationalism. Annual Review of An-
thropology 24: 547-565.
2000 Book Review of Grimes 1998. American Ethnologist
27:788-789.
^lelucci, Alberto
1996 The Playing Self. Person and Meaning in the Planetary
Society. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
arry, Wayne
905 (NJ) Arabs, a Portrait of Success in America, U.S. Cen-
sus says. Associated Press, <http://www.adcnj.us/arab-
sdoing-well-ap-03-08-05.htm> [Wednesday, March 9,
2005]
aPport, Nigel, and Andrew Dawson (eds.)
98 Migrants of Identity. Perceptions of Home in a World
of Movement. Oxford: Berg.
Edward W.
1979
1981
1983
1984
1986
1993
Orientalism. New York: Vintage Books, Random House.
Covering Islam. New York: Pantheon Books.
The World, the Text, and the Critic. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press.
Reflections on Exile. Granta 13: 159-172.
After the Last Sky. Palestinian Lives. New York:
Pantheon Books.
Culture and Imperialism. New York: Alfred A. Knopf
Publishers.
1996 Representations of the Intellectual. The 1993 Reith
Lectures. New York: Vintage.
1999 Out of Place. A Memoir. New York; Vintage.
2000 Reflections on Exile and Other Essays. Cambridge:
Harvard University Press.
2001 The Clash of Ignorance. The Nation. [October 4, 2001]
<http://www.thenation.com/doc.mhtml ?i=20011022&s=
said>
Schiller, Nina Click, Linda Basch, and Cristina Szanton
Blanc
1995 From Immigrant to Transmigrant. Theorizing Transna-
tional Migration. Anthropological Quarterly 68: 48-63.
Schmidt, Garbi
2004 Islam in Urban America. Sunni Muslims in Chicago.
Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Shaheen, Jack G.
1997 Arab and Muslim Stereotyping in American Popular
Culture. Washington; Center for Muslim-Christian Un-
derstanding, Georgetown University.
2001 Reel Bad Arabs. How Hollywood Vilifies a People.
(Foreword by William Greider.) New York: Olive
Branch Press.
Shryock, Andrew
2000 Family Resemblances. Kinship and Community in Arab
Detroit. In: N. Abraham and A. Shryock (eds.); pp.
573-610. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.
2002 New Images of Arab Detroit. Seeing Otherness and
Identity through the Lens of September 11. American
Anthropologist 104:917-922.
Smedley, Audrey
1998 “Race” and the Construction of Human Identity. Amer-
ican Anthropologist 100: 690-702.
Stockton, Ronald
1994 Ethnic Archetypes and the Arab Image. In; E. McCarus
(ed.), The Development of Arab-American Identity;
pp. 119-154. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan.
Suleiman, Michael W. (ed.)
1999 Arabs in America. Building a New Future. Philadelphia:
Temple University Press.
Takaki, Ronald
1993 A Different Mirror. A History of Multicultural America.
Boston: Little, Brown, and Co.
Varisco, Daniel Martin
2002 September 11. Participant Webservation of the “War on
Terrorism.” American Anthropologist 104: 934-938.
Anth
lr°pos 101.2006
MONUMENTA SERICA
Journal of Oriental Studies
ISSN 0254-9948
Founded in 1934 at the Catholic Fu Jen University in Peking by Fr. Franz X. Biallas, s.v.d. (1878-
1936), Monumenta Serica is an international journal dedicated primarily to traditional China, cover-
ing all important aspects of sinology. 52 volumes averaging 600 pages have been published up to 2005.
A comprehensive Index to Volumes I-XXXV (1935-1985) is available. The Monumenta Serica Institute
also publishes the Monumenta Serica Monograph Series (53 titles up to 2005), as well as the Collecta-
nea Serica.
FROM RECENT ISSUES:
Sally K. Church: Zheng He: An Investigation into the Plausibility of 450-ft Treasure Ships (vol. 53)
• Tjalling Halbertsma: Some Field Notes and Images of Stone Material from Graves of the Church
of the East in Inner Mongolia, China (vol. 53) • Special Section: Fascination and Understanding. The
Spirit of the Occident and the Spirit of China in Reciprocity (I) (vol. 53) • Li Feng: Succession and
Promotion: Elite Mobility During the Western Zhou (vol. 52) • Antje Richter: Mit Schätzen beladen
heimkehren; Der Schubkarren als glückverheißendes Motiv in volkstümlichen chinesischen Drucken
(vol. 52) • Sophia-Karin Psarras: Han and Xiongnu: A Reexamination of Cultural and Political Re-
lations (vol. 51 and 52) • Paul U. Unschuld: Chinese Retributive Recipes. On the Ethics of Public
and Secret Health Care Knowledge (vol. 52) • Ho Shun-yee: The Significance of Musical Instruments
and Food Utensils in Sacrifices of Ancient China (vol. 51) • Wu Shu-hui: On Chinese Sacrificial Ora-
tions chi wen (vol. 50) • Yuri Pines: Friends or Foes: Changing Concepts of Ruler-Minister Relations
and the Notion of Loyalty in Pre-Imperial China (vol. 50) • Motifs and Images. Studies on East Asian
Archaeology and Art. Essays in Honour of Professor Käte Finsterbusch (vol. 49) • Stephen
Eskildsen: Neidan Master Chen Pu’s Nine Stages of Transformation (vol. 49) • David Holm: The
Ancient Song of Doengving: A Zhuang Funeral Text from Donglan, Guangxi (vol. 49)
[Price per volume: EUR 85,- (excl. postage)]
MONUMENTA SERICA MONOGRAPH SERIES
Vol. LI. Wu Xiaoxin (ed.), Encounters and Dialogues. Changing Perspectives on Chinese-Western Exchanges from
the Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries, Sankt Augustin - Nettetal 2005, 406 pp., lllustr. ISBN 3-8050- 0525-3
Vol. LIII/1-2. W. South Coblin, Francisco Varo's Glossary of the Mandarin Language. Vol. 1: An English and
Chinese Annotation of the Vocabulario de la Lengua Mandarina’, Vol. 2: Pinyin and English of the Vocabulario de la
Lengua Mandarina, Sankt Augustin - Nettetal 2006, 1036 pp. ISBN 3-8050-0526-1
COLLECTANEA SERICA
Thoralf Klein und Reinhard Zöllner (Hrsg.), Karl Gützlaff (1803-1851) und das Christentum in Ostasien.
Ein Missionar zwischen den Kulturen. Mit einem Vorwort von Winfried Scharlau f. Institut Monumenta Serica,
Sankt Augustin - Nettetal 2005, 375 S. ISBN 3-8050-0520-2
Editorial Office
Monumenta Serica Institute
Araold-Janssen-Str. 20, 53757 Sankt Augustin, Germany
Tel.: +49 - (0)2241 - 237431 • Fax; +49 - (0)2241 - 237 486
E-mail: institut@monumenta-serica.de • http://www.monumenta-serica.de
Orders: http://www.monumenta-serica.de
Please send manuscripts of articles and reviews,
exchange copies, and orders to the above address.
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 123-144
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese”
Berthold Laufer, Franz Boas, and the Chinese Exhibits
at the American Museum of Natural History, 1899-1912
John Haddad
Abstract. - In 1900, Franz Boas sought to advance his an-
thropological vision by expanding Chinese holdings at the
American Museum of Natural History. Chinese Culture, he
believed, possessed a complexity that supported his model of
societal development and disproved the widely accepted theory
of cultural evolution. When an alliance with missionaries failed
to yield desired artifacts, Boas arranged for Berthold Laufer
to undertake collections in China. Fearing that modernizing
forces would soon destroy traditional China, Laufer eagerly
accepted. Sadly, the resulting exhibit ultimately fell prey to
misunderstanding and controversy. In explaining its fate, this
article illuminates the contentious nature of anthropology in
this period. [China, Berthold Laufer, Franz Boas, anthropol-
°8y, folklore, American Museum of Natural History, Chinese
Culture, Boxer Uprising]
John Haddad, Ph.D. (University of Texas at Austin, 2002), As-
sistant Professor of American Studies and Literature, Penn State
Harrisburg University. - His publications include “The Ro-
mance of China. Excursions to a Virtual China in U.S. Culture,
1776-1876” (New York 2005); various articles in journals like
Chinese America. History and Perspectives, American Nine-
teenth Century History, Journal of American Culture (Spring,
^98); and book reviews and encyclopedia entries.
Introduction
Berthold Laufer viewed China from afar in
the early autumn of 1900, he knew change was
ln the air. An American anthropologist born and
educated in Germany, Laufer harbored an intense
ascination with Chinese culture which he one
hoped to satisfy through extensive fieldwork
in the country. Yet until this moment, he had
never felt a sense of urgency. He had, after all,
been operating under the assumption that change
in China would proceed very slowly, thus giving
the anthropologist ample time to study traditional
Chinese culture before Western modernizations
took hold. However, in the wake of the Boxer
Uprising of 1900, Laufer had to confront the
disturbing reality that his assumption had been
mistaken. Time was now running out.
In the late 1890s, the Boxer Movement emerged
in Shandong Province in response to the increas-
ingly intrusive presence of foreigners. Since the
Boxers sought the eradication, often through vi-
olent means, of the very things that signified
progress in the West - churches, systems of tele-
graph, railroads, and mining projects -, Europeans
and Americans not surprisingly viewed them as
barbaric. The movement culminated in the summer
of 1900, when the Boxers laid siege to the Foreign
Legations in Beijing. Had the siege succeeded, a
bloody slaughter of the several hundred foreign
expatriates holed up inside the compound would
have ensued. Yet in response to the crisis, na-
tions with economic interests in China, including
Japan, Germany, Russia, England, France, and the
United States, hastily assembled a relief force.
This international army marched to Beijing, routed
the Boxers, and rescued the Legations (Esherick
1987; xiii-xiv, 14-17; Preston 1999:21-29, 148—
151, 175-185).
124
John Haddad
In Laufer’s mind, these dramatic events were
sure to precipitate rapid change in China. The de-
feat of the Boxers, he predicted, would strengthen
the positions of both modernizers within the Qing
government and the foreign business community,
which was eager to exploit China’s natural re-
sources. By accelerating the modernization pro-
cess, these two groups were sure to bring about
the swift demise of a culture based on tradition-
al folkways, handicrafts, centuries-old agricultural
techniques, Confucianism, and Buddhism. For this
reason, Laufer understood that he needed to act
with haste if he was going to study a way of life
before it vanished forever.
Since collecting expeditions were costly, Lau-
fer’s dream might easily have gone unfulfilled
had it not existed in perfect alignment with the
ambitions of his friend and mentor - Franz Boas.
As a curator in anthropology at the American Mu-
seum of Natural History in New York, Boas had
by 1900 committed himself to reshaping his field
according to his own novel vision. He believed that
the dominant theory of the day, cultural evolution,
was fundamentally flawed in presenting a ladder
of civilization in which white peoples of Western
Europe and the United States enjoyed positions
above those with darker complexions. To challenge
this theory, Boas developed his own model of
societal development that leveled this hierarchical
structure. Each society possessed its own internal
logic and consistency, he argued, and progressed
along a unique trajectory; Since one culture was
neither better nor worse than another, the pur-
pose of anthropology was not to place a given
society on the appropriate rung but rather to ex-
plain how it functioned successfully as an organic
whole.
Though not a specialist in Asian cultures, Boas
was drawn to China because it presented cultur-
al evolutionists with a problem. Though Chinese
culture was unlike any found in the West, its
complexity and sophistication defied any anthro-
pologist’s attempt to classify it as uncivilized. For
this reason, most cultural evolutionists regarded
China as a colossal anomaly and shied away from
serious study of it. Interpreting their avoidance as
vulnerability, Boas saw the strategic importance of
a Chinese exhibit. Yet since the American Museum
lacked Chinese artifacts, the resourceful Boas was
forced to make an intriguing move. He approached
a group that possessed an ideology completely
antithetical to his own, American missionaries, to
broker an agreement: they would donate artifacts
to the Museum, and he would give them proper
credit in his public exhibits. It was only after
this partnership dissolved that Boas located the
necessary funding to send Laufer to China. In this
way, Boas’s aspiration to effect a paradigm shift
within his field achieved confluence with Laufer’s
burning desire to study a great civilization before
it disappeared.
Just as the two anthropologists had hoped, the
resulting museum exhibit became a visible and
tangible argument in favor of Boas’s theory. In
that it also offered a sympathetic portrayal of Chi-
nese people, it predated by nearly three decades
Pearl Buck’s famous literary depiction of the Chi-
nese, “The Good Earth” (1931). Yet clearly, it
is Buck’s Pulitzer Prize-winning bestseller, not
Laufer’s museum exhibit, that we credit with hu-
manizing the Chinese in the minds of Americans
(Isaacs 1962: 155-158). In fact, Laufer does not
even enter into the discussion, he being largely
forgotten. His obscurity is surprising when we con-
sider that so many of Boas’s other disciples - Ruth
Benedict, Margaret Mead, Melville Herskovits -
enjoyed famously successful careers that some-
times even eclipsed that of their mentor. Why is it
that the individual who applied Boasian theories to
the most populous nation on earth remains lost in
anonymity while other protégés became household
names?
In answering this question, this article sheds
light on an intellectual field that, by 1900, had en-
tered into a combustible state of transition. Though
Boas had formulated his revolutionary theories,
these were still regarded as highly controversial
and had yet to win academic acceptance. The
fundamental mission of the museum was also the
subject of an intense debate: should anthropolog'
ical exhibits reflect the latest scholarly research,
as Boas firmly believed, or should they serve
the educational needs of the general public? With
these heated controversies being far from resolved,
Laufer discovered that his Chinese collection was
precariously situated on an intellectual fault line
where competing ideas rubbed violently against
one another. In the end, it fell casualty to its
hostile environment. With this failure, nearly three
decades would pass before China would receive an
advocate in the United States, Pearl Buck, capable
of popularizing a compassionate view of its pen'
pie. And Boas would wait two decades before a
generation of anthropologists trained by him could
confer fame and acceptance onto his ideas. What
follows, then, is the story of two anthropologists-
The first, Franz Boas, was so determined to aug'
ment the Museum’s holdings of artifacts that he
formed the unlikeliest of alliances with overseas
missionaries. It is also the story of Berthold LaufeF
101.2006
Anthropos
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese’
125
an anthropologist who arrived in China just in the
nick of time yet, paradoxically, several decades
too soon.
The Uneasy Alliance of Anthropology and
Christianity
In April of 1900, missionaries from all over the
World descended on Carnegie Hall in New York
to attend the Ecumenical Conference on Foreign
Missions. In addition to the missionaries them-
selves, some of their native converts, and sever-
al thousand delegates from missionary societies
across the United States, the conference also at-
tracted several distinguished individuals, including
John D. Rockefeller, J. P. Morgan, and Morris K.
lesup, the President of the American Museum of
Natural History. Most impressive of all, a former,
the current, and a future President of the United
States attended the opening ceremony: Benjamin
Harrison, William McKinley, and Theodore Roose-
velt.
In his formal address, President McKinley
sPoke of the missionaries as “the world’s heroes”
Mio, by braving “disease and danger and death,”
have “illumined the darkness of idolatry and su-
perstition with the light of intelligence and truth.”
addition to spreading the gospel, these “pic-
kers of civilization” taught trades and industries
and promoted the “development of law and the
establishment of government.” In this way, they
accelerated the advancement of non-Western cul-
hires towards a higher state of civilization. In
^eluding his remarks, the President expressed
*lls wish that “this great meeting” would “rekin-
l9()the m-ionary ard°r” (Nation Greets
McKinley geared this final comment as much to
p e general public as to prospective missionaries.
0r though the success of foreign missions hinged
°n the recruitment of energetic men and women
Wllling to sacrifice their lives for the Christian
Cause, the engine driving these extensive over-
Seas ventures was the monetary contributions of
^dinary churchgoing Americans. So in addition
showering missionaries with accolades, orga-
,lZers of the conference hoped also to stimulate
. e interest of the general population for fundrais-
a § purposes. Towards this end, they assembled
p^arge exhibit designed to showcase the noble
e es °f the missionaries, the foreign cultures they
countered, and any evidence of progress directly
the utakle t0 influence °f missions. Visitors to
e Missionary Exhibit could handle native tools
Amh
r°pos 101.2006
and crafts, inspect photographs, and speak with
both missionaries and their converts (Missionary
Exhibit 1900).
The display for China, the largest at the ex-
hibit, consisted of numerous objects as well as
over 500 photographs. Though the pictures cov-
ered a wide range of topics, most fell into one of
three categories; Chinese culture (toys, food, ar-
chitecture, manufactures, modes of transportation,
clothing, and famous Chinese landmarks), aspects
of Chinese culture in need of change if not out-
right eradication (hunger, infectious diseases, and
non-Christian temples and idols), and the contri-
butions of missionaries, such as churches, schools,
hospitals, doctor-training facilities, and Chinese
translations of the Bible (List of Chinese Artifacts
1900). Along with examining the exhibit, guests
who possessed interest in China could attend a
special panel on the state of missions in Asia. At
this panel, the Reverend J. Hudson Taylor, founder
of the China Inland Mission, made an emotional
appeal to the audience. “The Chinese are dying
a million a month without God,” he proclaimed
with urgency. “Those only who have seen know
the darkness of a heathen deathbed. With what de-
spair do they look forward to the judgment which
they know is coming!” (Rev. J. Hudson Taylor
1900).
One person who took a keen interest in the
Ecumenical Conference did not share President
McKinley’s enthusiasm for the forces of “civiliza-
tion” sweeping through countries like China. Nor
did this individual believe that the Chinese expe-
rienced spiritual crises on their deathbeds. He was
Franz Boas, a Jewish immigrant from Germany,
who occupied the post as Curator in Anthropology
at the American Museum of Natural History in
New York. Even before the conference had begun,
Boas had fixed his eyes squarely on the Missionary
Exhibit. In its vast array of cultural artifacts, he
had recognized the potential to further both his
material and his intellectual agenda. He knew that
if he could obtain this collection, he could expand
the paltry ethnographic collections at the Museum
and, more importantly, deliver a stunning blow to
the establishment in his field.
By 1900, Boas had begun his sustained as-
sault on a theory of cultural development that
most anthropologists of his era warmly embraced.
This general model, often referred to as “cultur-
al evolution,” grew out of the works of Herbert
Spencer, a British Social Darwinist and prophet of
progress. Cultural evolution was first articulated
by the British ethnologist, Edward Burnett Tylor
(1832-1917), in his pioneering work, “Primitive
126
John Haddad
Culture” (1871). Several years later, an Ameri-
can, Lewis Henry Morgan (1818-1881), offered
a modified version of it in his classic work, “An-
cient Society” (1877). The theory soon attracted so
many adherents that, by the 1880s, it had achieved
paradigmatic status.
Cultural evolutionists asserted that the myriad
cultures of the world evolved upwards through
a unilinear series of identifiable stages, starting
with savagery, progressing to barbarism, and cul-
minating in the kind of civilization epitomized by
Western Europe and the United States. Obvious-
ly, any people labeled “savage” could justifiably
feel insulted, having been placed on the bottom
rung of this ladder of civilization. That said, the
hierarchical model was theoretically rooted in the
egalitarian notion that humans everywhere demon-
strated “psychic unity,” or that they were more or
less uniform though occupying different stages of
intellectual and cultural development. Following
this theory, one could attribute the startling variety
in the world’s many human societies not to innate
racial differences but rather to the varying paces
at which societies progressed through the several
stages (Degler 1991:62; Stocking 1987: 169 f.).
Boas dismissed this entire notion that human
societies progress through a common series of
ascending stages. He argued instead that a given
society appeared different because it was differ-
ent, its people had created a unique culture in
response to their natural environment, using only
the raw materials at their disposal. So rather than
believing in a single linear progression that all
societies followed, Boas claimed one could find as
many different trajectories as one could societies.
For this reason, he opposed any anthropologist’s
attempt to evaluate a non-Westem society by ap-
plying a set of standards rigged so as to assign
greater value to areas in which the West excelled.
Civilization, he wrote in 1887, “is not something
absolute,” but rather is “relative,” and “our ideas
and conceptions are true only so far as our civiliza-
tion goes.” The best way to understand indigenous
cultures, in Boas’s view, was not to make invidious
comparisons to Western civilization but rather to
acquire and study artifacts showing how the social,
religious, agricultural, and industrial life of any
people had grown out of their relationship to nature
(Cole 1999: 132; Degler 1991:67).
In the 1880s, Boas entered into a debate with
Otis Mason, Curator of Ethnology at the Smith-
sonian Institution and strong proponent of cul-
tural evolution. In defense of this model, Mason
was able to marshal impressive empirical evidence
showing that different cultures, even those separat-
ed by wide geographical distances, demonstrated
striking cultural similarities. These reappearing re-
semblances, he believed, were not coincidental be-
cause, given the presence of comparable material
resources, different societies should create “simi-
lar inventions” independent of one another since
human nature is a constant, manifesting itself in
the same general fashion across the world. Mason
encapsulated the essence of his argument in the
pithy statement, “like causes produce like effects.”
If Mason’s theory was correct, the anthropolo-
gist needed only to seek out the similar inventions
or “like effects” that the society under study shared
with other societies all over the world. Once locat-
ed, these universal benchmarks would allow him to
draw useful comparisons with other cultures and,
in this way, to place the culture in its appropriate
developmental stage. Mason transferred this notion
of comparative anthropology to his philosophy of
museum arrangement. He advocated a typological
evolutionary scheme that would encourage the mu-
seum visitor to compare the specific element of one
culture with corresponding elements from others
to assess the progress of each along the pathway
to civilization. Such a museum would not, for
example, devote an entire exhibit to Chinese cul-
ture but would instead sort all Chinese specimens
by category. It would then place Chinese baskets
in juxtaposition with those produced by Japanese,
Indonesian, or Native American craftspeople, and
present similar contrasts in the areas of pottery»
agricultural tools, and fabrics (Stocking 1974: 2-
5; Jacknis 1985; 77 f.).
Since cultural evolution hinged on this idea that
“like causes” produce “like effects,” Boas knew
that he could discredit the entire theory by ques-
tioning this fundamental assertion. However, he
opted not to challenge the empirical evidence itself
- that is, the data supporting the existence of paral-
lels between different societies - but rather to offer
an alternative explanation for it: “unlike causes
produce like effects.” To illustrate his point, Boas
cited the example of rattles that were nearly iden-
tical though produced by geographically diverse
tribes. A cultural evolutionist would predictably
point to “like causes” to explain this “like effect’ •
since all societies have access to gourds, possess
the same “psychic unity,” and have reached the
same stage of technical sophistication, they neces-
sarily invent the same object.
In disagreeing, Boas pointed out a fallacy 111
Mason’s argument, one that he claimed “over-
throws the whole system.” “The outward append
anee of two phenomena may be identical,” Bo&s
observed, “yet their imminent qualities may h6
101.2006
Anthropos
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese”
127
altogether different.” In other words, appearances
can be deceiving in that “unlike causes” can also
yield the “like effect” of similar rattles. A tribe that
invents a rattle does so not simply with “the idea
of making noise.” Rather, the object might occupy
a vital position in a complex religious ceremony
designed “to drive away spirits”; it might have
been made to grant pleasure to children; or it might
be “characteristic of the art of the people.” The key
Point here is that, even though several tribes invent
ostensibly the same instrument, they do so for
entirely different reasons and, thus, the common
object does not prove cultural similarity. To truly
understand the meaning of the rattle, one needed
to view the object not in the context of other rattles
niade by other societies but rather as an integral
dement of this particular society’s unique way of
bfe (Boas 1887a: 587-589; 1887b: 485).
As the example of the rattle indicates, Boas
steadfastly believed that anthropologists needed to
view a society holistically. With regard to muse-
um exhibits, he eschewed Mason’s comparative
method, favoring instead a “tribal arrangement” -
an organizational scheme that demonstrated any
&ven artifact’s relationship to, and function with-
’u, the larger culture that had created it (Boas
1887a: 589). Towards this end, he recommended
k°th that each culture on display in the American
Museum receive its own exhibition hall and that
curators include enough artifacts to convey the
’bca that each culture exists as a self-contained,
°rganic whole. He made his position clear while
Writing to Morris K. Jesup, the Museum’s pres-
lclent, to complain about the public display of
arfifacts from Peru, which he regarded as woefully
lricomplete. Since the exhibit displayed the culture
°f Peruvians in “small fragmentary groups,” the
Asitor learned only a few facts that were “without
Sl§mficance in relation to their culture” and was
consequently unable to glean the “essential traits
r Peruvian culture.” And since Peru’s culture was
uuique, Boas believed that “it should be shown
|n the Peruvian Hall what distinguishes that cul-
^re from others” (FB/MKJ 4/29/05 in Stocking
1974:589).
Though this commitment to displaying cultures
hstically rather than comparatively seemed rea-
m the abstract, Boas offered a caveat in
°7 in which he acknowledged one very real ob-
^ cle: “Of course, it is generally impossible to do
]07 0n acc°unt of lack of specimens” (Stocking
0£.4: 589). At the American Museum, the problem
^sufficient collections continued to threaten the
t d 1]ty of his anthropological vision which was,
SaY the least, materially demanding. In 1899, the
Anth:
roPos 101.2006
Anthropology Department released a report, one
which Boas himself probably composed, stating
that Asia and other regions were “inadequately or
not at all represented in our collections.” And since
“every year is making both archaeological and
ethnological research more difficult,” the author
urged prompt action: “Now is the time to make our
utmost efforts to collect in various fields.” In short,
not only were the Museum’s collections meager
and inadequate, but the forces of modernization
- the spread of trade, technology, and Western
religions across the globe - were irreversibly al-
tering all indigenous cultures they touched, thus
rendering efforts at collection increasingly difficult
as time passed (Weitzner 1952: 14).
Of course, the ideal way to address this paucity
of artifacts was to launch collecting expeditions
sending trained anthropologists all over the world.
However, such expeditions were costly, and the
Museum could only afford to deploy a small num-
ber. Thus, for Boas to pursue his revolutionary
anthropological vision, he needed to develop an
inexpensive way to augment the Museum’s collec-
tions. By the autumn of 1899, he had identified a
potentially large source of ethnological specimens
that he wished to obtain: the entire Missionary
Exhibit at the Ecumenical Conference.
Though the acquisition would require that he
worked closely with people whose ideological be-
liefs were diametrically opposed to his own, Boas
decided that the potential benefits outweighed this
single drawback. He sought the approval of his
most immediate employer, Frederic Ward Putnam,
the Chief Curator in Anthropology, who promptly
relayed the idea to President Jesup (FWP/MKJ
10/24/99, AMAA-MC). Since the plan did not
require any major expenditures on the part of the
Museum, Jesup supported it. Soon thereafter, Boas
reached an agreement with conference organizers
to effect the complete transfer of exhibits to the
Department of Anthropology following the con-
clusion of the conference in May of 1900.
The massive influx of artifacts did augment the
Museum’s holdings, as Boas had expected. How-
ever, when he began to incorporate some of the
new objects into the public exhibit, he encountered
one of the attendant drawbacks of working closely
with a group that possessed a worldview radically
different from his own: the missionary societies
regarded the arrangement and labeling of the do-
nated objects to be a sensitive issue. They did not
want to see the objects become so assimilated into
the Museum’s collections that visitors would be
unable to discern their missionary origin. In order
to defuse the problem, Boas needed somehow to
128
John Haddad
appease his donors by assuring them that their
interests were furthered while at the same time
continuing to promulgate his own vision of non-
Western societies, not theirs.
Towards this end, Boas laid out a delicate com-
promise. He claimed he could not “guarantee to
keep the [missionary] exhibit intact” because he
wanted to expose the public to the best possible
display, which meant integrating the recently do-
nated objects with those from the Museum’s own
holdings. For this reason, the Missionary Exhibit
would not retain its original integrity but rather
would necessarily “fall in [with] the general plan
of our exhibits.” Since Boas himself had authored
the “general plan,” this part of the arrangement
did not require him to sacrifice any part of his
anthropological agenda. In fact, the example of
Chinese artifacts illustrates how this stipulation
favored Boas overwhelmingly. One might, based
on Boas’s words, form the impression of two
collections merging; however, the Museum had
no significant Chinese holdings prior to the Ec-
umenical Conference - missionaries had donated
almost everything. For this reason, Boas would
not be integrating a new collection with a pre-
existing one, but would instead be combining the
missionary collection with his own anthropological
vision. Thus, the public display of Chinese objects,
nearly all of which had been donated by mission-
aries, would not reflect the fundamental mission-
ary assumption that China needed to be changed
and that missionaries were the proper agents of
reform.
In order to convince missionary societies that
their interests were also advanced by the arrange-
ment, Boas made two additional proposals, out-
lined in a letter addressed to Charles Cuthbert
Hall, the President of Union Theological Semi-
nary. First, he offered to affix labels to the ex-
hibits, such as “Collection of the Missionary As-
sociation,” so that visitors could identify a given
object’s donor. Under this system, anyone who
inspected the exhibits could plainly see that mis-
sionaries had contributed heavily to the display,
even though the display would not embody a
Christian viewpoint. Second, Boas agreed to pre-
pare, package, and send “special collections” to
any missionary society that made a request. These
traveling collections were “subjected any time to
the call of a missionary society for purposes of il-
lustrating lectures or of arranging special exhibits.”
The societies could use them to illustrate lectures
about life in foreign lands or to recruit young men
and women to the missionary vocation (FB/CCH
12/23/99, AMAA-MC). Though Boas might have
considered these two concessions inconvenient or
even bothersome, they did allow him to preserve
what for him was sine qua non - complete control
over the presentation of the objects.
Even with this arrangement, Boas remained
unsatisfied. Though the missionary collection had
greatly expanded the Museum’s holdings, the
Christian approach to ethnological collecting had
not been in alignment with Boas’s approach. As a
result, Boas found himself in possession of many
objects he did not covet while lacking things he
deemed essential. After all, the missionaries had
endeavored to retrieve objects that could advance
their primary goal: to demonstrate the beneficial
effects of foreign missions by exposing the defi-
ciencies of foreign cultures and attributing these to
the absence of the Christian influence. Not surpris-
ingly, Boas valued the new additions but judged
them to be incomplete because they were “not
assembled systematically,” as far as the anthropol-
ogist was concerned. In short, the same array of
objects that had fully illustrated the Christian cause
in China at the Ecumenical Conference became
“very fragmentary” when shifted to the Anthropol-
ogy Department (FB/MKJ 5/10/00, AMAA-MC).
In anticipation of this problem, Boas had for-
mulated a follow-up plan. At the Ecumenical
Conference, he had recruited missionaries will-
ing to undertake further collecting upon return-
ing to China and other foreign fields. “I had a
number of interviews with missionaries during
the time of the exhibition,” he informed Jesup»
“and I beg to suggest that an effort be made to
supplement the collections now obtained” (FB/
MKJ 5/10/00, AMAA-MC). Though these devout
men and women lacked training, they did possess
the geographic advantage of already dwelling in
remote areas amongst indigenous cultures. Under
this arrangement, which Boas worked out with the
Reverend Edwin Bliss of the Missionary Society»
he (Boas) would identify the Museum’s anthro-
pological needs, and then “ask specific men f°r
specific things” in order to “develop the collections
systematically.” Boas’s instructions were absolute-
ly essential because, without them, missionaries
would continue to collect “in a spasmodic way
and send back artifacts “of no educational and
scientific value” (FB/EB 6/28/02, AMAA-MC).
Though missionary societies initially showed
enthusiasm for the plan, they ultimately disap'
pointed Boas by failing to execute it to his sat'
isfaction. “Unfortunately, owing to various cir-
cumstances,” he complained to S. Earl Taylor
the Young People’s Missionary Movement, “the
Bureau of Missions has never been able to take
101.2006
Anthropos
‘To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese’
129
up this matter energetically and to develop the
collecting.” Boas never explained exactly what
these “circumstances” were; however, one can as-
sume that financial as well as ideological con-
siderations loomed behind the Bureau’s apathy.
First of all, most of the funding for missionary
Purchases came not from the Museum but from
Wealthy benefactors inside the Christian church.
And despite Boas’s efforts to label the alliance a
‘happy conjunction” of interests, missionary or-
ganizations probably tacitly believed that the ar-
rangement benefited Boas far more than Christian
institutions (FB/SET 3/30/04, AMAA-MC).
In the end, the ideological differences sepa-
rating the two parties were too large to bridge.
Though most missionary activity was grounded in
the fundamental belief that foreign cultures needed
to change, the arrangement allowed Boas to use the
rnissionary community’s time, effort, and money
t° assemble a public exhibit that implicitly argued
the opposite position: that commerce and religious
conversions were rapidly destroying non-Christian
cultures that did not need to follow the West’s
Sample. Ultimately, the differences between the
two parties proved stronger than their common
'nterests, and the marriage of evangelical Chris-
tianity and Boasian anthropology dissolved. It did,
uowever, leave behind an impressive legacy. If
0rte examines the Museum’s Chinese collections
today, one is struck by the sheer volume of ar-
tifacts donated by missionaries at the turn of the
Ceutury.
Organizing the Expedition
^he finai failure of Boas’s alliance with Christian
Jttissions did not consign the Museum’s Chinese
:°ldings to mediocrity. In March of 1901, Boas
^formed the Reverend F. F. Ellinwood that the
tuseum had just received a major windfall in the
°rru of a generous donation of almost $ 20,000,
?Uch of which was earmarked specifically for
c development of the Chinese collection (FB/
F 3/23 MC/AMAA). In June of the same
a front-page story in the New York Tribune
Uounced the formation of a major collecting
exPedition to China:
s e American Museum of Natural History is about to
c n an expedition into China to study the life and
°ms of the Chinese and to collect ethnological
****** • • • The work will take at least three years,
Will be most thoroughly done. At the time when
1Ila Was the centre of the world’s interest the museum
Anih
r°Pos 101.2006
felt the lack of a Chinese exhibit. A wealthy citizen of
this city heard of the museum’s needs in this direction,
and has supplied the funds necessary to carry on the
work. His name will not be made public at present (Year
in a Buddhist Temple 1901).
The anonymous benefactor was Jacob Schiff, a
Jewish immigrant from Germany who had risen
out of poverty to become the head of the powerful
New York banking firm, Kuhn, Loeb & Com-
pany.
By 1900, Jacob Schiff had solidified his status
as one of America’s richest men, and he was look-
ing for suitable philanthropic endeavors towards
which he could channel some of his immense
wealth. As the New York Tribune indicated, Eu-
ropeans and Americans looked upon China with
renewed fascination in the wake of the Boxer
Uprising, when China became “the centre of the
world’s interest.” With the failure of that antifor-
eign movement, many believed that the final ob-
stacle to China’s modernization had been removed
and that progressive elements in the government
would work in tandem with the foreign powers; to-
gether, they would seize the reins of power to ush-
er in a new era of reform, technological progress,
and openness to the outside world. Indeed, Schiff
himself held more than a mere passing interest in
this vision of a new China - he possessed a real
financial stake in China’s future. In 1895, he had
joined with several other bankers to establish the
American China Development Company, which
financed railroads and other industrial projects in
China (Cohen 1999: 36; Adler 1929: 39). So iron-
ically, Schiff s weighty influence loomed behind
two contradictory movements: one seeking to ac-
celerate the modernization of China and the other
attempting to study China before modernity irre-
vocably altered Chinese culture.
The anthropologist chosen to lead Schiff s ex-
pedition to China was Berthold Laufer. “Lead,”
however, may not be the appropriate term since
Laufer possessed no followers; he would travel
to China alone. Like Schiff and Boas, Laufer
was a Jewish immigrant from Germany, and this
background shared by the three men perhaps con-
tributed to their strong working relationship in an
environment not devoid of anti-Semitism (Bronner
1998: 134). The son of a confectioner in Cologne,
Laufer had received extensive training at institu-
tions in Leipzig and Berlin. Possessing formidable
linguistic aptitude, he had studied ten Asian lan-
guages, including Mandarin Chinese, Manchu, Ti-
betan, Mongolian, and Japanese. For his doctoral
dissertation, he had used his proficiency with Ti-
130
John Haddad
betan to analyze a Buddhist text. In addition to his
impressive academic qualifications, Laufer pos-
sessed experience conducting fieldwork in Asia.
In fact, the Schiff expedition would not be his
first trip to Asia. At Boas’s request, Laufer had
journeyed to North Asia in 1898 to conduct field-
work under the auspices of the American Museum.
During this expedition, he earned Boas’s respect
and friendship by relentlessly pursuing artifacts
among the Gilyak, Tungus, and Ainu peoples in
Siberia, along the Amur River, and on the Sakhalin
Islands despite brutally cold weather, difficult trav-
el conditions, and a severe bout with pneumonia
(Cole 1999: 195-97; Latourette 1938; 44; Freed et
al. 1988: 12).
Laufer’s activity in northern Asia had consti-
tuted one thrust of a multifaceted anthropological
project that was the brainchild of Boas - the Jesup
North Pacific Expedition. Believing that cultures
were dying out all over the world, Boas argued in
the 1890s that one critical function of anthropology
must be to understand them before they disap-
peared forever. Holding particular interest in the
Indian and Asian peoples indigenous to the North
Pacific Rim, Boas hoped to convince Morris Jesup
to finance a major expedition to these regions by
drawing funds from both the Museum’s coffers
and the president’s personal fortune. However,
Boas also knew that if he were to present the
project truthfully as an attempt to study vanish-
ing cultures, the proposed expedition would hold
scant appeal for Jesup. A self-made man who had
received only a limited education, Jesup believed
that science, rather than addressing esoteric topics,
should seek to answer large questions of interest
to ordinary people. Furthermore, after turning 65
years of age in 1895, Jesup acknowledged that he
was entering the twilight of his life and desperate-
ly wanted a major scientific discovery to emerge
from his lengthy tenure as the Museum’s president,
begun back in 1881.
Cognizant of his employer’s wishes, Boas
framed his proposed expedition as a scientific
quest to answer one of anthropology’s most vexing
questions: were American Indians the descendants
of Asians who had migrated to North America
across the Bering Straits thousands of years ago?
Greatly intrigued, Jesup approved of the plan in
1897, and Boas immediately began to organize
expeditions to the North Pacific Rim to search
for the cultural similarities between Indians and
Asians that would prove their common ancestry
(Preston 1986: 25 f.; Freed et al. 1988: 9). Berthold
Laufer’s one-man expedition to China in 1901,
though funded by Schiff, appears to have func-
tioned in conjunction with the Jesup North Pacific
Expedition.
Younger than Boas by 16 years, Laufer was
as much his protégé as he was his colleague. “I
take a great interest in the young fellow,” Boas
once said of Laufer, “as if he were my own young
brother” (Cole 1999: 197). Indeed, Laufer’s most
fundamental assumptions with regard to anthro-
pology reflected those of his mentor. In a letter
to Jacob Schiff, he wrote that the “foremost task”
of the anthropologist must be “to rescue perishing
cultures from wreck, and to save what can be
saved for the benefit of future generations” (BL/JS
4/29/11, AMCA No. 499). Throughout the 1890s,
Laufer had studied Chinese language and culture
in Germany under the expectation that he would
one day undertake fieldwork in China. Up until
“the fatal year 1900,” he had not felt compelled to
hurry to China because the foreign presence there
appeared to affect only the large eastern port cities.
The vast interior, he then believed, remained in a
state of “antiquity,” evolving very little over “four
thousand years.”
However, with the suppression of the Boxers,
Laufer’s anthropological mission immediately ac-
quired a sense of urgency. Though change in China
had been gradual up until this point, this event
provided the catalyst that would trigger the rapid
transformation of China’s physical and cultural
landscape. In the place of traditional handicrafts
and centuries-old agricultural techniques, China
would become dominated by factories, expansive
railroad networks, far-reaching systems of tele-
graph, and stores stocked with Western manu-
factures. Equally distressing, the Chinese mind
seemed certain to undergo a parallel metamor-
phosis. Christianity, Western science, and Western
theories of government would now make deep
inroads into a culture that had for centuries re-
volved around Confucianism, Daoism, and Bud-
dhism. With these vast changes in the offing’
Laufer now possessed only a few years in which t°
study traditional Chinese culture before it ceased
to exist (Laufer 1912: 137).
Laufer also shared Boas’s fundamental belief
that the anthropologist could only understand an
indigenous culture on its own terms, and not by
applying the standards of Western civilization. In'
stead of assigning the Chinese a developmental
stage somewhere behind the West, Laufer endeav-
ored to collect artifacts that could help him present
Chinese culture as rich and varied, as possessing
substantial merit, and as progressing along its own
trajectory. So that Laufer would not lose sight ol
this goal in China, Boas offered him constant re'
Anthropos 101,2006
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese”
131
minders in letters: “You know perfectly well what
We are driving at. It is to bring home to the public
the fact that the Chinese have a civilization of their
own, and to inculcate respect for the Chinese.” “It
is the ideal aim,” Boas continued, “to change the
attitude of public opinion towards the Chinese” in
the wake of the Boxer Uprising (FB/BL 4/21/02
and 4/23/02, AMAA).
However, following Boas’s mandate was not
an easy task. To keep himself from applying the
standards of Western civilization, Laufer needed to
unlearn ingrained assumptions about what consti-
tutes a successful culture that had been instilled in
him since childhood. We can only “shake off’ the
influences of Western culture, Boas believed, “by
tmmersing ourselves in the spirit of primitive peo-
ples whose outlook and development have nothing
in common with our own” (Cole 1999: 132). That
Laufer clearly subscribed to this immersion tech-
nique was evident in an interview he gave to the
A/evv York Tribune. “I hope to spend a year in a
Luddhist temple near the capital,” Laufer said, “to
hve the life of the priests and learn from them
Ihe details of their strange religion. After that I
am going into the interior to collect ethnologi-
cal specimens.” During his three years in China,
Laufer would embrace every available chance to
live with the Chinese (Year in a Buddhist Temple
1901).
Herthold Laufer in China
1R the summer of 1901, Laufer crossed the Pa-
Cl.fic on a steamship bound for Shanghai. After
^embarking, he found himself in a polyglot city
°minated by an entrenched foreign population.
Almost immediately, he turned to the first matter
J^fluiring his attention: to convince an American
uuer to convey all future acquisitions to the Unit-
States at no charge. Fortunately, Daniel Fearon,
shipping merchant, agreed to transport Laufer’s
flections in the interest of science, and his com-
Fearon and Co., became the channel through
. Rlch more than ten thousand objects would cross
ne Pacific Ocean (BL/FB 8/30/01, AMAA).
Though grateful to Fearon, Laufer was on the
j °ie unimpressed with the expatriate community
Shanghai. He found that its interaction with
j lnese people was surprisingly limited, consist-
v ® m°stly of curt communications with hired ser-
s ts- He also discovered that most foreigners pos-
anfl e<^ °n^ minimal knowledge of Chinese culture
^pressed only polite interest in his scientific
rk- “I do not expect much help from the white
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
residents of this place,” Laufer wrote, because
their minds were filled with “all imaginable silly
prejudices.” Though disappointed by the foreign-
ers’ ignorance and apathy, Laufer was pleased to
discover that the Chinese “show a much better
understanding for the character of my work” (BL/
FB 8/30/01, AMAA). For example, he was able
to find an enthusiastic language teacher willing to
teach him the local Shanghai dialect and help him
review his Mandarin (BL/FB 8/30/01, AMAA). In
addition, a Shanghai newspaper printed a positive
article about the expedition, which had a beneficial
effect on Laufer’s relations with the citizens. The
“people begin to appreciate ... [the] foreigners’
scientific aspirations regarding their own country,”
he observed, “which they formerly never did” (BL/
FB 8/2/02, AMAA). In Shanghai, Laufer learned
that he could depend more on the Chinese than on
the foreign community.
Applying this principle, Laufer refused to call
on foreign missionaries, choosing instead to re-
ly exclusively on the Chinese (BL/FB 10/12/01,
AMAA). Since traveling through China could be
fraught with logistical difficulties, he carried a let-
ter from Wu Tingfang, China’s minister to Wash-
ington, vouching for his character and good in-
tentions. Upon arriving at a new locale, he would
present Wu’s letter to the viceroy and local man-
darins. Typically, these men would exhibit an ea-
gerness to lend Laufer assistance because they
were “very much in sympathy with anything that
will make China and Chinese civilization known
to the outside world” (FB/BL 1/21/02, AMAA).
Some of them even regaled him with alcoholic
beverages and advised local art and antiquity deal-
ers to treat him fairly, and not as a “foreign
red-haired devil” (BL/FB 10/12/01, AMAA). In
a region known to be infested with bandits, one
mandarin offered to provide the roving anthro-
pologist with an armed escort; Laufer politely
refused, preferring to travel alone. Local leaders
were not the only ones lending Laufer assistance.
He frequently received gifts of chicken, eggs, and
tea from townsfolk who felt sympathy for the
unprepossessing foreigner who would ride into
their town alone and on a mule (BL/FB 11/9/01,
AMAA).
Besides treating Laufer well, the Chinese also
aided his collection efforts on many occasions.
Upon learning that Laufer worked for a museum,
an aristocrat donated an ancient bronze drum from
his private collection (BL/FB 10/12/01, AMAA).
When Laufer lacked the ready cash to purchase
the antiquities he coveted, many merchants would
offer him loans at no interest (BL/FB 10/15/01,
132
John Haddad
AMAA). In a monastery, Laufer became enam-
ored with a pair of jade idols, which obvious-
ly were not for sale. Fortunately, Chinese artists
agreed to paint pictures of the statues for him
(BL/FB 11/9/01, AMAA). Believing that his col-
lection should include sounds as well as objects,
Laufer had transported a phonograph from the
United States. At his request, Chinese theatrical
troupes, folk singers, and opera companies gener-
ously agreed to sing entire productions while his
machine recorded them (BL/FB 9/19/01, AMAA).
Though one of Laufer’s Chinese assistants stole
antiquities from his storage room, this act of
dishonesty was clearly exceptional because, save
for rare instances, the Chinese tended to facili-
tate his collecting efforts, not obstruct them (BL/
U.S. Consul 8/12/03, AMAA).
If the assistance of the Chinese played a vital
role in ensuring the expedition’s success, so too
did Laufer’s own passion, indomitable spirit, and
single-minded determination. As one reads his cor-
respondence with Boas, one is struck by the utter
absence of any superfluous activity; every decision
Laufer made appears calculated to improve the
prospects of the expedition in some material way.
In fact, Laufer apparently did not make a single ex-
penditure of either time or money that served only
to increase his personal pleasure or comfort. For
example, though the city of Suzhou entranced him
with its “charming” people as well as “its pago-
das, temples, and historical remembrances,” he
departed immediately after completing his work.
“I wish I might spend a year here,” he mused to
Boas, “and dream away into Nirvana, if not other
duties would call me away” (BL/FB 10/12/01,
AMAA).
No matter how alluring parts of China were,
Laufer did not dwell in any single location for
a long time. Since he hoped to assemble a col-
lection that would represent the culture of many
provinces, he necessarily needed to adopt a peri-
patetic existence. He was in constant motion, trav-
eling from one city, town, or village to another,
and employing all available forms of locomotion:
junks, steamboats, trains, sedan chairs, donkeys,
horses, mule-carts, oxcarts, and his own two legs.
Furthermore, he seldom deviated from his strict
travel schedule, even when good sense dictated
that he do so. In Hangzhou, Laufer contracted an
illness that left him in miserable physical condi-
tion. Greatly concerned, several Chinese supplied
him with medicine and food, which his stomach
promptly rejected. While Laufer probably should
have taken time to recover, his dogged determina-
tion to hunt for artifacts prevailed, and he refused
to postpone a planned excursion to the countryside.
Though weakened from five days of involuntary
fasting, he hired a pony (“the only vehicle avail-
able”) and commenced a 20-mile journey. “The
ride was of course very painful to me,” he later
reported to Boas, “as that disease is accompanied
by a constant pricking heat and boiling in the
bowels ... traveling is not an easy matter in this
country” (BL/FB 11/9/01, AMAA).
Suffering numerous hardships, Laufer frequent-
ly solicited Boas’s sympathy, encouragement, and
acknowledgment of his hard work. “Please do not
think that making collections in this country mere-
ly means to go shopping,” he informed his mentor.
Collecting “is an awful hard task which requires
a great deal of good nerves, the self-control of
a god and an angel’s patience” (BL/FB 2/28/02,
AMAA). Sometimes, his letters exude a kind of
triumphant pride in his ability to cover so much
ground: “There is no path I did not walkover,
no cave I did not enter ,.. and no places unex-
amined by my inquisitiveness” (BL/FB 11/9/01,
AMAA). Other times, the loneliness and fatigue
of solitary travel through a foreign land filled hiru
with despair. Collecting “wearies me to death,” he
confided in Boas, “and makes me tired of life”
(BL/FB 2/28/02, AMAA).
Though Boas seldom extended either the grat-
itude or sympathy Laufer sought, he did express
concern for Laufer’s safety. He saw that Laufer
demonstrated a willingness to take risks that,
though laudable in one sense, also frazzled his
nerves. For Boas knew that fieldwork was fraught
with peril and that anthropologists were occasion-
ally killed by the people they studied (Preston
1986:24). Compounding the danger in Boas’s
mind was the dramatic rise in antiforeign sentiment
in China following the Boxer Uprising. In Bei'
jing, Laufer informed Boas that residual bitterness
and animosity continued to linger in the air (BL/
FB 1/4/02, AMAA). Gravely concerned about his
colleague’s safety, Boas urged him to take appr°'
priate precautions: “I beg of you that you will
be careful and not expose yourself unnecessarily-
However, in making admonitions, Boas also hah
the Museum’s investment in mind. “You will not
help our undertaking by running unnecessary risks-
On the contrary, if anything should ever happeI1
to you, the value of our collections would ho
infinitely less.” Since Laufer alone could expia111
the meaning behind the artifacts, the worth of the
collection depended entirely on his survival (FB
BL 11/24/01, AMAA). As knowledgeable as Bo&s
was, China did not fall within his area of exper'
rise. “Don’t forget that I do not know anythin
Anthropos 101-20^6
‘To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese’
133
about China,” Boas repeatedly reminded his friend.
“Chinese culture is entirely foreign to me” (FB/
BL 1/10/01 and 1/21/02, AMAA). Were Laufer to
perish, Boas would be unable to supply the cultural
information that the exhibit would require.
To acquire this cultural information, Laufer
relied mainly on Chinese sources. To learn about
the various Chinese trades, he attended industrial
schools (BL/FB 6/1/02, AMAA). To understand
the symbols, relics, and practices of Buddhism, he
met with Lamas in Beijing and even lived with
monks in monasteries (BL/FB 3/10/02, AMAA).
“I saw Buddhism living and practiced in real life
and ... I felt the deepest respect and admiration
for this religion,” Laufer wrote from a monastery
m the mountains of Putuo, an island off the coast
°f Hangzhou. “It was hard to leave that spot of
bliss” (BL/FB 11/9/01, AMAA). To understand
the work and folkways of peasant farmers, Laufer
sPent four months in the rural areas of China’s
mterior. “I lived on a farm among the people,”
he proudly related to Boas, “sharing their simple
meals of millet and beans, a privilege which not
many foreigners in China will have enjoyed. The
farmers are undoubtedly the best people of China,
0ri whom the future of this country is based” (BL/
pB 10/23/03, AMAA).
By welcoming Laufer into their communities
and supplying him with cultural information, the
Chinese succeeded in winning over the anthropolo-
§lst. That he thought highly of the Chinese is clear
from his letters, many of which contain passages
°f unadulterated encomium:
cannot praise enough the good character of the Chinese
'' • they are humane, they are sympathetic people indeed,
Uey are bright and intelligent, sharp and witty, splendid
a*kers and conversationalists, they are born philoso-
№ers, deep and rationalistic thinkers of good practical
c°mmon sense, they have good morals without having
Poachers, and observe the laws of ethics in their life,
Q Pereas in our countries morals are merely a subject
teaching, but not of practicing; they are trustworthy
aad reliable, they keep their word, one may have them
s friends; as an individual, as a personality, a Chinese
ands as high, if not higher on an average, as any white
an (BL/FB 11/9/01, AMAA).
indeed, Laufer’s positive experiences with the
mese inevitably inspired favorable comparisons
tlv .^estem Civilization. Though conventional
mking of the day held that China needed ei-
s er to learn from the West or suffer dire con-
£ 4Uences, Laufer posited the opposite view. “The
r°pean world” was “suffering from delusions of
udeur,” he asserted, and needed to learn “mod-
^nthi
roPos 101.2006
esty” from the Chinese. In his estimation, Chinese
culture was “just as good as ours and in many
things far better.” After two years in China, Laufer
astonished Boas with the following revelation: “If
I regret something, it is not having been born a
Chinese” (BL/FB 6/3/03, AMAA).
Laufer’s admiration for the Chinese carried
over to the art world, which earned his effusive
praise. He believed that “the best Chinese mas-
ters are not inferior to the artists of Italy and
Holland,” and he compared Buddhist relics favor-
ably to “whatever Greek sculpture has brought to
light” (BL/FB 11/9/01, AMAA). And in order to
cover China’s performing arts, Laufer collected
dozens of miniature dioramas, each about a cubic
foot in size, that depicted famous scenes from
Chinese dramas and operas. These display box-
es contained ceramic figurines positioned before
colorful backdrops (Fig. 1). In addition, one of his
favorite acquisitions involved a popular theatrical
troupe from Beijing, the Yangge stilt dancers, who
performed short dramas as well as juggling and
pantomime routines entirely on stilts. Thrilled by
their ingenious art form, Laufer decided he would
attempt to recreate it in his museum exhibit. To-
wards this end, he acquired not only a complete
set of everything the troupe employed - costumes,
face painting supplies, stilts - but also a paint-
ing that clearly showed how the final presentation
appeared to audiences. “At the museum I intend
to mount the dancers arranged in groups,” he in-
formed Boas. “The painting will give you an idea
about what the whole thing looks like” (BL/FB
11/17/03, AMAA).
When Boas opened the crate containing the
accoutrements of the Yangge stilt dancers, he
may not have shared Laufer’s enthusiasm. Perhaps
the only point of contention between the two
anthropologists was Laufer’s proclivity to collect
heavily in the areas of art, religion, and folklore
when Boas insisted on the primacy of agricultural
and industrial life, believing that artifacts from
these areas best illustrated the relationship between
the Chinese and their natural environment. Though
Boas did not dismiss the interests of his protégé
altogether, he did constantly exhort him to keep
his priorities straight:
So far, your collections contain very little showing
... the whole industrial side of weaving, embroidery,
basketry, wood-carving ... We ought to have samples
of the various kinds of fabrics, thread ... dyes, spinning
apparatus, loom, etc.; and not only for this industry,
but for others as well, - agriculture, wood-work, metal-
work, leather-work, lacquer-work, etc. I mention the
134
John Haddad
Fig* 1 : Theatrical diorama. Chi-
nese Collection. Donor; Laufet
(AMNH).
industrial side particularly, because I am anxious that
you should not overlook its importance in your work.
Your own interests center so much more towards the
religious, literary, and artistic life ... (Letter from Boas
to Laufer, Frebruary 3, 1902; AM A A)
Though Laufer required constant prodding, he did
largely “stick to this programme” outlined by Boas
and did devote much of his intellectual and phys-
ical energy towards locating and understanding
tools used by farmers and artisans (FB/BL 2/3/02,
4/18/03, and 4/24/03, AMAA).
In the end, Laufer’s expedition represented a re-
markable achievement. Traveling entirely by him-
self for three years, he covered a substantial swath
of territory, journeying north to Beijing, southeast
to the Zhoushan Island off the coast of Ningbo,
and west as far as Xi’an. In the end, he made nine
separate shipments to New York that consisted
of 305 large packing crates. The total number of
artifacts and specimens, not including photographs
or phonographic cylinders, easily exceeded ten
thousand (BL/FB 7/8/04, AMAA). And at a time
when China was reviled in the West, Laufer had
met a country that was still capable of inspiring
wonder. “It would now lead me too far,” he wrote
to Boas, “to mention all the wonderful things I
have seen, to tell all the stories I have heard and to
describe all ... the beautiful remembrances which
will always be stamped indelibly on my mind’
(BL/FB 11/9/01, AMAA).
The Exhibit in New York
At the conclusion of his expedition in April
of 1904, Laufer departed Shanghai and stopped
briefly in Cologne before continuing on to NeW
York. He was quite fortunate in that, prior to his
return, Boas had arranged for him to assume a
curatorial position at the Museum. As Assistant
of Ethnology, Laufer would be expected to install
part of the Chinese collection in the Museum s
public exhibition; arrange, classify, and shelve the
remainder in storage so that anthropologists and
their students would find it useful; publish his
scientific findings; and teach a methods class on
anthropological fieldwork at Columbia University
(FB/BL 2/15/04, AMAA). Hermon C. BumpaS’
who had been hired as the Museum’s Directoi
in Laufer’s absence, wrote Laufer during the lat'
ter’s final days in China to offer him the post. I11
101.2006
Anthropos
‘To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese’
135
this letter, Bumpus emphasized the importance of
forming a useful Chinese exhibit upon his return.
It must be installed “intelligently,” he stressed to
Laufer, “so as to be as instructive as possible to
the general public” (HCB/BL 3/4/04, AMAA).
Around the turn of the century, the role of the
museum in American society was the subject of
debate. Should a museum’s primary mission be the
advancement of scientific knowledge, or should it
allow universities to assume that responsibility and
instead set the education of the general public as
its chief priority? Boas adhered passionately to the
former view; viewing museums as research insti-
tutions, he believed public exhibits should offer an
extension of the latest scientific discoveries, even
if these perplexed visitors. In 1899, this opinion
assumed a crystallized form when Boas defined
the purpose of the collections gathered during the
lesup North Pacific Expedition; “The specimens
^hich we obtain are not collected by any means
from the point of view of making an attractive
exhibit, but primarily as material for a thorough
study of the ethnology and archaeology of the
region” (Jacknis 1985: 89). Though Bumpus did
n°t deny the importance of original research, he
Placed far greater importance on the creation of
exhibits that could instruct ordinary people, as his
letter to Laufer indicated.
Two years after Laufer’s return, Bumpus is-
sUed a full articulation of his position in an ar-
ticle for the New York Times entitled, “How to
^ake a Museum Popular and Practical.” “It is
% belief,” Bumpus stated, “that one fault of the
j^useums of this country is that the public has
been given too much undigested science.” Though
a museum should remain committed to “advanc-
es science,” it must do so without “bewildering
be non-scientific public.” Some scientists, Bum-
PUs continued, most likely alluding to Boas, have
^stakenly endeavored “to collect” and then “to
^ake an exhibit” compatible with the aims of their
^lentific research, “even to the smallest detail.”
bls approach “has lessened the usefulness of the
j^odern museum,” because visitors’ minds and
^dies become fatigued by such demonstrations of
t struse scientific points. “[I]f a museum is really
b be made instructive,” he concluded, “the aim
^ °uld be to simplify” (Bumpus 1906). Clearly,
umpus’s views clashed with those of Boas to the
^ mt where a collision became inevitable. Since
aufer’s proSpects were tied to Boas’s ability to
amtain control over the Anthropology Depart-
e ent’ he must have been distressed upon discov-
j^lrig after his return that not everyone in the
useum appreciated his work in China. Instead
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
of being lauded for his Herculean efforts, Laufer
found himself and his collection embroiled in a
controversy.
As storm clouds began to gather, Laufer pro-
ceeded to install the Chinese collection in the pub-
lic exhibition space allocated to the Anthropology
Department. As he positioned the pieces and pro-
vided them with explanatory labels, he must have
felt strong pressure to mollify Bumpus and please
the public by forming a conventional Chinese ex-
hibit, which is to say a display of the strangest,
most beautiful, and most expensive objects. But
Laufer had seen this type of exhibit before in
Europe, and he had dismissed it as “a fortuitous
accumulation of curios picked up at random here
and there.” Though visitors at such exhibits might
marvel at the exotic beauty of the objects, ac-
knowledge the skill of the craftsmen, and luxuriate
in the pleasingly Oriental atmosphere, they do not
achieve a holistic understanding of Chinese cul-
ture. For the “spirit of the Chinese people,” Laufer
asserted, resides not in the “most costly porcelains
and the superb treasures” but rather in “their daily
life and surroundings” (Laufer 1912: 137).
Why did Chinese exhibits in the West tend to
dwell on the strange and exquisite while leaving
out entirely any serious attempt to explicate the
lives of ordinary Chinese people? In the estima-
tion of Boas, this absence was not so much an
unfortunate oversight as a strategic omission: it
allowed cultural evolutionists to skirt the prob-
lem that China posed to their model of societal
development. Quite simply, cultural evolutionists
did not know how to handle the most populous
nation on earth. Even Edward Tylor, a founder
of cultural evolution, encountered difficulty plac-
ing China in his hierarchical scheme. Though ad-
mitting the Chinese were scientifically advanced,
he ultimately placed them below the Italians but
above the Aztecs (Tylor 1970 [1871]: 27; Bronner
2005: 141 f.).
Simply put, China posed a problem for cultural
evolutionists because the complexity of its culture
precluded their efforts to credibly consign it to a
state of either savagery or barbarism. This meant
that, by default, the Chinese were civilized like the
peoples of Western Europe and the United States.
However, cultural evolutionists also observed that
Chinese civilization appeared to be different; it did
not resemble Western civilization at all - and here-
in lay the problem. For if China were subjected to
scientific scrutiny, the results might force cultural
evolutionists to confront the disturbing possibility
that human societies evolved along multiple tra-
jectories - not just one.
136
John Haddad
Since the colossal anomaly of China threatened
the viability of the period’s dominant paradigm,
most anthropologists shied away from any serious
study of it. In the area of public display, most
exhibitors of Chinese culture opted to follow
a path we could characterize as intellectually
safe. They displayed in abundance the sorts of
objects one would expect to find in the homes and
palaces of the China’s affluent and ruling classes
- luxurious silks, exquisite pieces of porcelain,
and intricate carvings in jade and ivory. In this
way, they presented Chinese culture as something
enchantingly beautiful and exotic that one perhaps
ogled with curiosity or wonder - but did not study.
With visitors spared any obligation to grapple
with the true sophistication of Chinese civilization,
the potential threat that China posed to cultural
evolutionists was effectively neutralized.
When the defeat of the Boxers in 1900 reinvig-
orated China’s modernizers, cultural evolutionists
received an unexpected windfall. To them, any
attempt by the Chinese to imitate or catch up
to the West carried the implicit admission that
China lagged behind the West - that it occupied a
less-advanced developmental stage. Almost imme-
diately, China’s newfound openness to Western-
style modernization began to manifest itself in
American displays of Chinese culture. Exhibits
increasingly included updates on China’s progress
in adopting Western science, technology, and in-
dustry, with the explicit message being that such
acquisitions were unambiguously good for the Chi-
nese. Thus, at the dawn of the twentieth century,
American visitors to a Chinese exhibit could ex-
pect to luxuriate in the exotic lifestyle of China’s
elites while applauding the nation’s noble attempt
to emulate the vastly superior West.
In fact, as Laufer was busy installing his mu-
seum exhibit in New York, a major exhibition
of Chinese culture opened in St. Louis at the
1904 World’s Fair. Francis Carl, an American
who served as Vice Commissioner of the Chinese
Delegation, played a large role in assembling the
exhibit. From his boast one can discern the or-
ganizing philosophy behind the exhibit: “visitors
to the Chinese section of the St. Louis Exposition
will see more of rare and wonderful and artistic
things of China, than they could if they spent thirty
years traveling through China” (China’s Display
1904:56). Sure enough, this was an exhibit that
largely eschewed the ordinary in Chinese life while
showcasing the extraordinary. For example, Amer-
icans could see how the loftiest tier of Chinese
society lived by visiting the Chinese Pavilion, a
full-scale replica of a Chinese prince’s summer
home that included a courtyard, pleasure garden,
goldfish pond, and pagoda. Upon entering the
Pavilion, visitors were magically transported to an
appealing world of oriental opulence (Witherspoon
1973: 96).
Yet in addition to beholding this familiar vision
of China, visitors to the World’s Fair also met
with a country that embraced the innovations of
Western civilization. China’s recent acceptance of
modernity was apparent as early as 1903, when
an official representative of the Qing Government
participated in a groundbreaking ceremony on the
plot of land designated for the Chinese Pavilion.
Wong Kai-kah, who shared with Francis Carl the
title of Vice Commissioner, epitomized the new
face China hoped to present to the world. In the
1870s, Wong had attended high school in the
United States where he became impressed with
American trade, industry, and technology (Haddad
2002; 579). During the groundbreaking ceremo-
ny, Wong struck a deferential pose to the Unit-
ed States. Civilization, he said, had originated in
China and has since moved in a westward di-
rection through history, ultimately reaching North
America where it assumed a “perfect form” in the
United States. Though China stood proudly as the
progenitor of civilization, the time had come for
the teacher to accept the role of pupil. China, Wong
declared, “is anxious to learn” and “take lessons
from” the West (Dedication 1903: 2-6).
Due in part to Wong’s influence, China present-
ed a new self-image at the World’s Fair. Instead
of exuding a complacent satisfaction with past
cultural attainments, China signaled its willing'
ness to embrace Western ideas and technologies.
Along with the usual specimens of porcelain and
silk, visitors encountered many things they did
not commonly associate with China: steam en-
gines, motors, machine tools, electric generators,
and manufactured goods (Catalogue 1904). Oth-
er exhibits surprised them by demonstrating Chi-
na’ s commitment to international trade, telegraphic
communications, and railroads (China’s Exhibits
1904: 42 f.). With the exhibit’s overall tone being
one of deference to the West, cultural evolutionists
witnessed a lot that pleased them. For this same
reason, this was exactly the sort of exhibit that
Laufer would have despised. Of course, he did
not travel to St. Louis because, at this time, he
was working long hours to install an exhibit that
was itself revolutionary - though in a completely
different way.
On December 3, 1904, the Chinese Hall opened
to the public. According to the American Museu№
Journal, the exhibit was “intended to show the
101-2006
Anthropos
‘To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese’
137
entire culture of China of the present day and
to illustrate the products of the country and the
general every-day life of the people, - their
Cl*stoms and industries, their amusements and
Pastimes and their religion and art” {Chinese Hall
1905: 7 f.). As guests made their way into the
Chinese Hall, they must have felt astonishment as
ihey confronted many unexpected pieces. Instead
°f poring their eyes over splendid samples of
Porcelain, they found themselves studying crude
examples of “modem crockery ... in its simple
burnt state.” Similarly, the display of footwear
must have prompted bafflement. After all, the
tiny silk shoes worn by Chinese women with
bound feet had by this time become de rigueur
in a Chinese exhibit because Americans enjoyed
contemplating a custom they regarded as bizarre.
Yet Laufer defied this expectation by replacing
the silk shoes with the rustic footwear of peasant
farmers (Fig. 2). This is not to say that Laufer
138
John Haddad
Fig. 4: Game. Chinese Collec-
tion. Donor: Läufer (AMNH).
eschewed elite culture entirely; however, he did
direct his focus more on the lives of ordinary
Chinese. A reporter for the New York Times, who
wrote a positive review of the Chinese Hall,
understood Laufer’s intentions: “The purpose is
not to exhibit what a wealthy merchant or a
mandarin enjoying a fat sinecure employs, but
what the common people ... use in their homes”
('Chinese Popular Art 1904). With Chinese Hall’s
novel focus on the ordinary, visitors encountered
very little that was familiar to them.
Fig. 5: Dolls. Chinese Collection. Donor: Läufer (AMNH).
For instance, though most Americans knew
something about the production of tea and porce-
lain in China, they knew comparatively little about
the nation’s other industries. But largely due to
Boas’s prodding, Laufer had collected hundreds
of objects associated with China’s trades. Since
he included many of these in the public exhib-
it, visitors received an object lesson in Chinese
stone cutting, pottery, embroidery, basket mak-
ing, carpentry, rope making, masonry, metal work,
printing, lacquer ware production, and glass mak-
ing. Rather than showing only the final products,
Laufer emphasized process. In the display cases,
one could see the tools and raw materials involved
in the production process and read explanations
of the techniques employed by China’s artisans
and industrial workers. Furthermore, in the area
of medicine, Laufer included a set of acupuncture
needles. In keeping with Boas’s critique of cultural
evolution, these implements demonstrated not that
Chinese physicians lagged behind their Western
counterparts but rather that Chinese medicine had
developed along its own unique trajectory.
In addition to medicine and industry, the exhibit
also offered explications of Chinese religions,
amusements, and pastimes. Laufer’s fascination
with Buddhism suffused the exhibit, which not
surprisingly contained numerous religious relics»
such as the ceremonial masks worn by Lamas. The
performing arts were also well represented. Along
with the previously mentioned trappings of the
Yangge stilt dancers and the boxed dioramas, one
could also study musical instruments, including
gongs, trumpets, flutes, guitars, castanets, and
iron drums (Fig. 3). So that Americans couw
better understand the lives of children, Laufei
included games (Fig. 4), dolls (Fig. 5), and playfu
101.2006
Anthropos
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese”
139
Pig.
6: Pigeon whistle. Chinese
Collection. Donor: Läufer
(AMNH).
inventions, such as the pigeon whistle. To hear an
aeHal melody, one attached a miniature Aeolian
^arP to the leg of a bird with a thin wire and let
bird fly away; the passage of the wind through
the instrument created a haunting sound (Fig. 6).
To best understand how revolutionary the Chi-
nese Hall was, we can select one of its represen-
tative objects, something that truly captured the
essential idea pervading the exhibit, and compare
lt with one that had typified other exhibits. Perhaps
n° object better encapsulates the overall tone at
Previous and contemporary Chinese exhibits than
he carved elephant tusks featured at the Centen-
Jhal Exposition in Philadelphia (1876) and later at
he World’s Fair in St. Louis (1904). Requiring
Undreds of hours of labor, these carved ivory
^laments possessed no function except to adorn
hinese palaces and the quarters of the fabulously
ealthy. And in the minds of Americans, such an
k Ject was at once beautiful, gaudy, exotic, and
lZarre - the quintessential curiosity. In contrast,
object that epitomized Laufer’s vision of China
as> curiously enough, a set of long metal files
. nd blades (Fig. 7). One would be hard-pressed to
^nagine an object less able to inspire wonder; as
, e label indicated, these instruments were used
cy a chiropodist to remove painful and unsightly
from his patients’ feet. Though many visitors
oably questioned the inclusion of something so
ndane, it clearly shows Laufer’ s commitment to
e , etrating areas of Chinese culture that previous
v liters had left alone.
n sum, Berthold Laufer had seemingly recre-
China inside an American space. But exactly
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
what China were visitors encountering? Gone was
the oriental wonderland of their fantasies, replaced
here by a country that was utilitarian, sensible,
earthy, and practical. Here were the productions of
real people who had built a lasting culture using
the natural materials at their disposal. Furthermore,
one could never judge any given object to be
bizarre, inscrutable, or mysterious because Laufer
always explained its precise function within the
larger culture. If visitors interacted with the ex-
hibits in the manner intended by Laufer, then they
Fig. 7: Chiropodist’s tools. Chinese Collection. Donor: Laufer
(AMNH).
140
John Haddad
have departed the Chinese Hall believing for the
first time that Chinese culture was not strange and
exotic, but rather that it made perfect sense.
The Fate of the Collection
The installation of the exhibit provided the crown-
ing moment of Laufer’s massive undertaking. Un-
fortunately, he could not enjoy success for long
because, by 1905, the fissure at the Museum had
widened to a chasm. Though Hermon Bumpus had
never agreed with Boas’s vision and had always
felt that the expeditions orchestrated by Boas were
both expensive and far-flung, he had grudgingly
tolerated them largely because they were already
underway by the time of his arrival. However, as
the years passed, Bumpus’s patience waned, and
arguments between the disillusioned administrator
and the strong-minded anthropologist became in-
creasingly acrimonious. On May 17, 1905, five
months after the opening of the Chinese Hall,
Morris Jesup called both men to a private meeting
to air their grievances, to voice their opinions
regarding the future direction of the Museum, and
to attempt to strike a compromise (see Boas 1905).
However, from the moment the meeting convened,
Jesup could probably discern that the philosophical
differences and personal animosity had grown so
deep as to preclude a resolution that would allow
both men to coexist in the institution.
Bumpus began by launching an attack on the
collection methodology employed by Boas and his
team of anthropologists while on their scientific
expeditions. Though he did not mention a spe-
cific expedition, Laufer’s quite possibly provoked
the most displeasure, it being the largest and the
most recent. Failing to grasp Boas’s fundamental
conviction that a culture must be viewed as an
organic whole, Bumpus had for two years watched
in quiet bafflement as crate after crate arrived
from the Far East, each filled with objects of
questionable worth. Indeed, the set of chiropodist
tools, assuming Bumpus had noticed them, was
precisely the sort of object that perplexed him. In
his opinion, the Museum should undertake collect-
ing expeditions not “for scientific purposes” or to
study indigenous cultures before they vanished,
but rather “to fill gaps in the exhibitions.” So
whereas Boas sought to recreate entire cultures
through objects, Bumpus possessed the far more
modest goal of enhancing already existing exhibits
by making small additions. What was worse, Bum-
pus complained, Boas and his disciples did not
appear to perform much analysis on the artifacts;
instead, they seemed to “accumulate material with-
out digesting it.”
To defend himself, Boas explained the theory
undergirding his collecting expeditions. In opposi-
tion to cultural evolution, Boas asserted that one
culture differed from another not because it oc-
cupied a different developmental stage but rather
because it had evolved in a unique fashion in
response to its natural environment. In order to
understand a given people’s relationship with the
natural world, one needed to obtain a holistic
view of their culture, which was impossible with a
small or fragmentary collection. However, despite
his best efforts, Boas failed to convince Bumpus
of anything. The latter responded by denouncing
Boas’s principles as “entirely irrelevant and unim-
portant points in anthropology.”
After this dismissal of Boas’s entire system
of thought, Bumpus turned to another point of
contention - the ineffective public exhibits in
Anthropology Hall. These displays were decided
failures, Bumpus charged, because visitors could
not possibly glean from them the anthropological
principles that Boas claimed were so essential. As
proof, Bumpus admitted that he had been utterly
unaware of Boas’s central theory until this very
meeting because the exhibits did not make it clear.
Incensed, Boas countered that “it is easy to tear to
pieces any exhibit as soon as the visitor makes up
his mind to take a point of view different from that
of the person who made the installation.”
Jesup, who had elected to remain silent dur-
ing most of the impassioned argument, decided
at last to interject his opinion regarding public
exhibits. Since Jesup had supported Boas in the
past, the anthropologist perhaps had reason to
believe that the president would understand his
position now. However, though Jesup deferred to
Boas on all matters relating to science, he believed
himself well-qualified to evaluate the effectiveness
of exhibits designed for ordinary people. Through'
out his long tenure as president, Jesup had ah
ways characterized himself as “a plain, unscientific
man.” “I want the exhibits to be labeled so I
can understand them,” he had frequently advised
his employees, “and then I shall feel sure that
others can understand.” Yet each time Jesup had
toured Anthropology Hall, he had found himseh
unable to extract useful information from Boas5
exhibits. “I am not satisfied,” he remarked after
one such visit. He was convinced that if his deter'
mined efforts had ended in frustrated confusion
those of ordinary visitors must have met with the
same dismal result (Preston 1986: 23; Cole 1999-
246).
Anthropos 101
,2006
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese’
141
Harboring this concern, Jesup had in the past
asked Boas to explain to him the educational value
of his exhibits. “In order to exert a deeper influence
upon the general public,” Boas had replied to one
such request, “we deem it important to arrange an
exhibit so as to illustrate one broad and easily in-
telligible principle,” which is “the relation of man
to nature” (FB/MKJ 5/28/98, AMAA). However,
Jesup’s remarks during the 1905 meeting indicate
that Boas’s explanation had failed to alleviate these
concerns to the president’s satisfaction. As Jesup
spoke, it became clear either that the basic prin-
ciple was not “easily intelligible,” as Boas had
claimed, or that the president simply held a con-
trary view of anthropology. In fact, in a statement
that must have provoked stunned amazement from
Boas, Jesup expressed his wish to see exhibits that
could illustrate “the advance of mankind from the
most primitive form to the most complex forms of
life.” Apparently, despite years of working with
Boas, Jesup still subscribed to the very anthropo-
logical model that Boas had committed his career
to overturning.
In sum, though Jesup believed in Boas’s sci-
entific research, he clearly placed greater empha-
sis on public instruction. And in this regard, his
Priorities were in closer alignment with those of
Hermon Bumpus. Shortly after the meeting. Boas
resigned in anger from his post at the Museum
and shifted his energies to his other employer,
Columbia University, which had hired him as a
faculty member. Though directly caused by the
feud with Bumpus, Boas’s move to Columbia also
reflected a larger trend in the scientific community:
the rise of the university as the locus for serious
Scientific research and the concomitant reorien-
tation of the museum towards the needs of the
Public.
As for Berthold Laufer, the departure of Boas
'eft his future at the Museum in a state of grave
Uncertainty. After all, the expedition to China had
h£en an integral part of a grand vision whose
architect and chief defender was no longer present,
dualizing that he no longer fit into the Museum’s
°ng-term plans, Laufer elected to leave the Muse-
for good. In 1908, he moved to Chicago after
^Ccepting a position as the Assistant Curator of the
Last Asiatic Division at the Field Museum. Laufer
Nv°uld spend the rest of his career at the Field,
eventually rising to become Chief Curator of the
^utire Department of Anthropology. Throughout
,18 tenure at the Field, he maintained his interest
*n China and even led two expeditions there to
evelop the institution’s Chinese collections. The
rst of these, the Blackstone Expedition, departed
Amh
in 1908, almost immediately following his arrival
in Chicago, and included a trek through Tibet
(Latourette 1938:44).
With the departure of Laufer to Chicago, offi-
cials at the American Museum were left to debate
both the future of China as a field of study and
the fate of the colossal collection. In 1908, Clark
Wissler, who replaced Boas in the Department of
Anthropology, strolled through the Chinese Hall
with President Jesup, just prior to the latter’s death.
As Jesup examined Laufer’s exhibits, he indicated
to Wissler that “he was opposed to further devel-
opment and that this would be our policy.” After
his death, Jesup was succeeded by Henry Fairfield
Osborn, one of America’s top paleontologists, who
brought a strong bias towards natural history to
his job and was less enamored with anthropology.
After he also took a tour of the Chinese Hall
with Wissler, he agreed with the judgment of his
predecessor. “[H]is mind was made up,” Wissler
recounted after the tour. China “was not within
our province at all” (CW/FL 5/27/12, AMCA
No. 499).
Agreeing with both his former and present
employers, Wissler concluded that the Museum
needed to steer away from “semi-historical Asi-
atic nations.” “If, for example, we take in Chi-
na,” he wrote to Frederic Lucas, the man who
replaced Bumpus as director, “why not Crete, As-
syria, Egypt,” and others? Though Asia presented
“important anthropological problems” that were
worthy of investigation, Wissler shied away from
any allocation of the Museum’s resources towards
this region. After all, a commitment to China
would necessarily require the diversion of funding
and expertise away from American Indians. The
Museum would be forced to “cease fieldwork in
the New World and put all our staff and money into
the Chinese problem.” To this proposal, Wissler
was opposed, stating emphatically that “America
is our field” (CW/FL 5/27/12, AMCA No. 499).
However, in addition to harboring a North
American bias, Museum officials elected not to
make China their focus because such a decision
would entail building on the foundation laid by
Laufer - a foundation that mystified them. Indeed,
after Laufer’s departure, curators and administra-
tors struggled to comprehend the meaning of the
immense collection. With neither Boas nor Laufer
available to interpret it, the collection quickly
acquired the reputation of being giant enigma.
Frederic Lucas could not fathom how Laufer had
gathered so much while simultaneously leaving so
many “wide gaps.” Why, he wondered to Osborne,
had Laufer failed to collect the most obvious items
lroPos 101.2006
142
John Haddad
that people associated with China, such as models
of sailing junks? And since everyone knew the
Chinese had invented gunpowder, why had Laufer
neglected to include the old matchlock weapons
that used it (FL/HFO 2/6/12, AMCA No. 499)?
In an attempt to understand the collection, the
Museum brought in two experts to assess its value.
The first reported that most of the objects were so
common in contemporary Chinese life as to be
readily available in the Chinatowns of New York
and San Francisco. And to the disappointment
of Museum officials, the second concluded that,
from a financial perspective, nothing had “any
value whatsoever” with the possible exception of a
few bronzes and specimens of pottery (CW/HFO
5/5/11, AMCA No. 499). In this way, the Chinese
collection became a double paradox in the minds
of Museum officials. It was excessively large yet
woefully incomplete; it had cost thousands of
dollars to assemble yet possessed almost no real
worth.
Of course, the one individual who could confer
meaning onto the collection resided in Chicago.
From his post at the Field Museum, Laufer wor-
ried over the fate of his beloved collection, which
he felt was misunderstood and mishandled in his
absence. To explain its significance, he desperately
wanted to write and publish a handbook. In 1911,
Laufer contacted Jacob Schiff who, he surmised,
would probably want to see the expedition that
he had funded bear fruit in the form of both a
more extensive public display and a major publi-
cation. “[TJhere is no museum in this country or
in Europe,” Laufer informed Schiff, “which has a
similar collection displaying the modem life and
culture of China.” A publication is necessary, he
continued, because “no serious book in existence
... gives a correct idea of the ethnography of
China” (BL/JS 4/29/11, AMCA No. 499). Fur-
thermore, Schiff would be alarmed, Laufer told
Boas, upon hearing of the “gross neglect” that
characterized the American Museum’s treatment
of the collection (FB/BL 4/27/11, APS).
As Laufer had hoped, Schiff penned a letter
to Osborne that articulated his complaints and re-
quests. “I think you will agree with me,” Schiff
wrote, “that it is a pity that nothing of permanent
value has so far come from the effort and money
which has been freely expended on the Laufer Ex-
pedition.” Would the Museum, he asked, support
an effort to publish a major book? Schiff also ex-
pressed his discontent with the Museum’s handling
of the collection. “Scientists, collectors, artists and
others,” he wrote, “have called at the American
Museum to study ... the Chinese Collection, and
each time met with refusal.” This same group of
individuals has also expressed discontent at the
state of the public exhibit (JS/HFO 5/1/11, AMCA
No. 499). Once the charges were made, Schiff and
Laufer awaited Osborne’s answer, fully expecting
a favorable response.
Unfortunately, Schiff s letter did not find a
sympathetic audience. In the three years following
Laufer’s departure, Museum officials had reached
the consensus that the collection was so severely
flawed that it did not merit a costly handbook.
“I certainly feel considerable hesitancy,” Frederic
Lucas stated, “in recommending the publication
of a handbook to a collection in this condition’
(FL/HFO 2/6/12, AMCA No. 499). So as to not
offend Schiff with the verdict, Clark Wissler craft-
ed a response that ostensibly appeared open to
compromise but actually conceded nothing at all-
Though the American Museum refused to pay f°r
the publication, Wissler agreed to send to Chicago,
at Laufer’s expense, any materials Laufer might
needed to compose the handbook himself. Though
the tone here was helpful and conciliatory, Wissler
was in fact consigning the handbook to oblivion
because he knew the Field Museum would never
publish a handbook based on a collection owned
by its rival in New York (CW/HFO 5/5/11, AMCA
No. 499).
Wissler also addressed Schiff s recommenda-
tion that the Chinese collection enjoy an expanded
presence in the public exhibit. The overriding con-
cern here, Wissler stated diplomatically, was the
immense size of the collection. “Even a fair exhibn
tion of its material,” he wrote, “would require eight
to nine halls or almost as much space as the Muse-
um is able to give the whole of anthropology.” T°
soften the refusal, Wissler speculated that one day
the Museum might construct a “special museum
devoted entirely Oriental culture, one in which
Laufer’s Chinese collection would play a central
role. Of course, he expressed this wish cognizant
of the fact that such a museum was purely hyp0'
thetical; it did not exist and had most likely never
even been proposed since Museum administrators
had decided to move away from Asia. Rebuffed
on all fronts, Schiff elected not to press further
and departed the negotiations empty-handed (CW'
HFO 5/5/11, AMCA No. 499).
Though refusing to follow the course proposed
by Schiff, Museum officials still needed to decide
what to do with the unwieldy collection. While
it was too large to dispose of, they felt that hs
many omissions prevented it from being very
useful for public instruction. Lucas eventually
arrived at a solution: the Museum would hire
Anthropos 101-20^
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese”
143
another expert on Chinese culture to fill specific
gaps in the public display while consigning the
rest of the collection to permanent storage. Lucas
approached Stewart Culin, an ethnologist affiliated
with the Brooklyn Institute Museum, with a list of
desired objects that included models of junks and
old matchlock weapons (FL/SC 4/9/12, FL/HFO
4/30/12, AMCA No. 1003). Once these items were
secured, the collection was now complete, at least
to the satisfaction of Museum officials. The matter
was officially closed.
Conclusion
But as the Museum was deciding the fate of the
collection, Laufer was busy following the great
changes underway in China and contemplating
their effect on the field of Chinese anthropology.
Though his second expedition to China in 1908
had been successful, he had been unable replicate
the work he had completed in 1904 for the simple
reason that, in the intervening years, the forces
°f modernization had swept in so many drastic
changes. Furthermore, in 1911, a political event
°f seismic proportions further accelerated the mod-
ernization process: the Qing Dynasty collapsed and
the Nationalist Party, led by Sun Yat-sen, ushered
ln a republican form of government. According to
Laufer, much of the traditional Chinese culture that
had endured for centuries had now disappeared
forever. “The days of antiquity which once formed
the source of a delightful object-lesson for the
ethnologist have thoroughly vanished,” he wrote,
and the process of modernization is pervading all
departments of activity” (Laufer 1912: 135 f.).
Though saddened by these developments,
Laufer found some consolation in the fact that they
had at least conferred new relevance onto his great
ent tragically misunderstood Chinese collection.
Laufer had always defined his professional mis-
Sl0n as salvaging cultures before the juggernaut
°f Western civilization leveled them. “Ethnolo-
jifists are a life-saving crew,” he wrote, “which
ave the duty of rescuing perishing cultures and
People from wreck” (Laufer 1912; 138). In 1900,
aufer had interpreted the Boxer Uprising as an
Unmistakable sign that China’s wreck was now
Eminent and that the next few years would afford
anthropologists one final window of opportunity,
^ce Laufer alone had heeded the warning, his
0 ection was unique. In 1912, a European si-
j ogist finally acknowledged the importance of
auter’s expedition. “You deserve congratulation
0r having seized the right opportunity,” because
Anth
ropos 101.2006
“it is impossible to do at the present time what
could be done ten years ago” (Laufer 1912: 136).
To be sure, the events following Laufer’s re-
turn from China in 1904 had not gone as he had
hoped: both Laufer and Boas had been forced
out of their positions, the Museum had rearranged
Chinese Hall and altered its message, and the bulk
of the collection now languished inside of dark
padlocked cabinets. Though Laufer was powerless
to affect decisions made in New York, he could
still find some solace in the realization that his
collection alone offered a snapshot of old China
before it had vanished from the earth. Though
forces beyond his control had separated him from
the Chinese collection, he had at least put to-
gether an ethnographic time capsule of Chinese
life before his window of opportunity had closed
forever. “These chances are now upset,” he wrote
nostalgically in 1912, “the romance of China has
died away with the end of the chivalrous Manchu
dynasty” (Laufer 1912: 137).
References Cited
Adler, Cyrus
1929 Jacob H. Schiff. His Life and Letters. Vol. 2. New York:
Doubleday, Doran, and Company.
Boas, Franz
1887a Museums of Ethnology and Their Classification. Sci-
ence 9:587-589, 614.
1887b The Occurrence of Similar Inventions in Areas Widely
Apart. Science 9: 485 f.
1905 Account of Meeting 5/17/05 with Morris K. Jesup and
Hermon C. Bumpus. File: Boas-Jesup Correspondence,
1896-1905. New York: American Museum of Natural
History, Anthropology Archives.
Bronner, Simon J.
1998 Following Tradition. Folklore in the Discourse of Amer-
ican Culture. Logan: Utah State University Press.
2005 “Gombo” Folkloristics. Lafcadio Hearn’s Creolization
and Hybridization in the Formative Period of Folklore
Studies. Journal of Folklore Research 42: 141-184.
Bumpus, Hermon C.
1906 How to Make a Museum Popular and Practical. New
York Times (June 3).
Catalogue
1904 Catalogue of the Collection of Chinese Exhibits at the
Louisiana Purchase Exposition. St. Louis: Shallcross
Print.
China ’.S’ Display
1904 China’s Display. World’s Fair Bulletin, St. Louis (April).
China’s Exhibits
1904 China’s Exhibits at the World’s Fair. World’s Fair
Bulletin, St. Louis (February).
144
John Haddad
Chinese Hall
1905 The Chinese Hall. American Museum Journal (January).
Chinese Popular Art
1904 Chinese Popular Art. New York Times (December 11).
Cohen, Naomi W.
1999 Jacob H. Schiff. A Study in Jewish American Leader-
ship. Hanover: Brandeis University Press.
Cole, Douglas
1999 Franz Boas. The Early Years, 1858-1906. Vancouver:
Douglas and McIntyre.
Dedication
1903 Dedication of China’s Building Site. World’s Fair Bul-
letin, St. Louis (October).
Degler, Carl N.
1991 In Search of Human Nature. The Decline and Revival
of Darwinism in American Thought. New York: Oxford
University Press.
Esherick, Joseph
1987 The Origins of the Boxer Uprising. Berkeley: University
of California Press.
Freed, Stanley A., Ruth S. Freed, and Laila Williamson
1988 Capitalist Philanthropy and Russian Revolutionaries.
The Jesup North Pacific Expedition (1897-1902).
American Anthropologist 90: 7-24.
Haddad, John
2002 The American Marco Polo. Excursions to a Virtual Chi-
na in U.S. Popular Culture. Austin. [Ph.D. Dissertation,
University of Texas at Austin]
Isaacs, Harold
1962 Images of Asia. American Views of China and India.
New York: Capricorn Books.
Jacknis, Ira
1985 Franz Boas and Exhibits. On the Limitations of the
Museum Method of Anthropology. In: G. W. Stocking,
Jr. (ed.), Objects and Others. Essays on Museums and
Material Culture; pp. 75 -111. Madison: The University
of Wisconsin Press.
Latourette, Kenneth Scott
1938 Berthold Laufer, 1874-1934. Washington: National
Academy of the Sciences. (National Academy of Sci-
ences of the United States of America, Biographical
Memoirs, 18)
Laufer, Berthold
1912 Modem Chinese Collections in Historical Light. With
Especial Reference to the American Museum’s Collec-
tion Representative of Chinese Culture a Decade Ago.
American Museum Journal 12: 135-138.
List of Chinese Artifacts
1900 List of Chinese Artifacts. New York: American Museum
of Natural History, Missionary Collection, Anthropolo-
gy Archives.
Missionary Exhibit
1900 The Missionary Exhibit of the Ecumenical Conference
on Foreign Missions. New York: American Museum of
Natural History, Missionary Collection, Anthropology
Archives.
Morgan, Lewis Henry
1877 Ancient Society. New York: Holt.
Nation Greets
1900 Nation Greets Mission Societies. New York Times (April
22).
Preston, Diana
1999 Besieged in Peking. The Story of the 1900 Boxer
Rising. London; Constable and Company.
Preston, Douglas J.
1986 Dinosaurs in the Attic. An Excursion into the American
Museum of Natural History. New York: St. Martin’s
Press.
Rev. J. Hudson Taylor
1900 The Rev. J. Hudson Taylor. New York Times (April 241-
Stocking, George W., Jr.
1974 The Shaping of American Anthropology, 1883 —1911-
A Franz Boas Reader. New York: Basic Books.
1987 Victorian Anthropology. New York: The Free Press.
Tylor, E. B.
1970 Primitive Culture. Gloucester; Peter Smith. [1871]
Weitzner, Bella
1952 A Year-by-Year Summary of the Department of Anthro-
pology, 1871-1952, based on the Annual Reports of
the American Museum of Natural History. New York-
American Museum of Natural History, Anthropology
Archives.
Witherspoon, Margaret
1973 Remembering the St. Louis World’s Fair. St. Louis-
Comfort Printing.
Year in a Buddhist Temple
1901 Year in a Buddhist Temple. New York Tribune (June 6)-
Manuscript Sources
AMNH American Museum of Natural History.
AMAA American Museum of Natural History, Antin'0'
pology Archives.
AMAA-MC American Museum of Natural History, Antin'0'
pology Archives, Missionary Collection.
AMCA American Museum of Natural History, Centr^
Archives (1906-1912), Special Collections.
APS American Philosophical Society, Boas-Laufef
Correspondence, Manuscripts Division.
Anthropos 101-20^
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 145-158
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género
en la construcción de la persona chacobo
Lorena Córdoba
Abstract. - Among the Chacobo (Paño, Bolivian Amazon),
the feminine condition is not a purely “natural” or physiological
state which is defined once and for all. A human being becomes
a woman only through progressive stages of social modelling
and construction of the Self. The general representations and
Practices which constitute the “humanity” and the “person”
arnong the Chacobo are thus analysed. In the particular case
°f women, the ideas and values associated with femininity
are examined through the analysis of gestation and procreation
processes, the mythic representation of sexuality, the ritual re-
strictions during pregnancy and couvade, the female initiation,
the sexual division of labour, the native ideology concerning
gender relationships and the principles of social organization.
[Bolivia, Chacobo, gender identity, femininity, life cycle, social
complexity]
Lorena Córdoba, Licenciada en Antropología Social por la
Universidad de Buenos Aires y becaria doctoral del Consejo
Nacional de Investigaciones Científicas y Técnicas (Argentina).
Ua realizado trabajos de campo entre los chacobo de la
Amazonia boliviana y los toba-pilagá y wichí del Chaco
^gemino.
Los chacobo de la Amazonia boliviana forman
Parte de la familia lingüística paño, que cuenta con
alrededor de 50.000 miembros y se extiende en la
arnazonía de Brasil, Perú y Bolivia. Los chacobo
forman parte de los paño meridionales junto con
Süs vecinos bolivianos pacaguara, casi extintos,
y los karipunas y los kaxararis, que habitan en
el estado brasileño de Rondonia. Se trata de los
pupos paño menos conocidos, así como también
0s más reducidos demográficamente; de hecho,
a Población chacobo actual no excede las seis-
lentas personas, distribuidas en ocho pequeñas
c°munidades situadas entre los ríos Benicito, Yata
e Ivon en el departamento de Beni (Erikson 2000,
2002; Córdoba y Villar 2002). Tradicionalmente
han basado su subsistencia en el cultivo de man-
dioca y de maíz, complementando esta actividad
con la más reciente siembra del arroz y la caza de
monte (Erikson 1999). Tras los ocasos sucesivos
del caucho y el palmito, medios fundamentales
mediante los cuales se insertaron en el mercado
regional, los chacobo trabajan en su gran mayoría
recolectando y vendiendo castañas para comple-
mentar sus actividades de caza y agricultura.1
I
Las representaciones y prácticas que constituyen
la “humanidad” y la “persona”, y en un plano
más específico la condición de ser mujer, no son
para los chacobo procesos meramente fisiológicos,
con propiedades dadas de una vez y para siempre.
Patrick Menget, en su estudio sobre la couvade,
ha señalado un etnocentrismo implícito en la idea
occidental de que el niño está “acabado” al nacer
(1989: 262). En este caso, la fabricación social
de la persona tampoco se interrumpe en el parto,
sino que un complejo aparato ritual compuesto por
cuidados y precauciones protege el desarrollo de la
1 Los datos de campo expuestos fueron recogidos en la
comunidad chacobo de Alto Ivon por miembros del Centro
Argentino de Etnología Americana entre 1970 y 1973, y
por nosotros durante 1999, 2000 y 2001, en el marco de
una investigación en curso.
146
Lorena Cordoba
humanidad del niño en sus momentos más críticos.
La condición humana, y en la misma medida la
condición femenina, parecen estar constituidas por
una serie de procesos de construcción y modela-
do social de la persona, cuya consistencia y arti-
culación deben rastrearse en el plano simbólico.
Retomando la terminología de Louis Dumont, en-
tenderemos entonces a los condicionantes de estos
procesos como una “ideología”; es decir, como
un sistema de ideas y valores compartidos en un
medio social dado (1987: 23).
Debemos subrayar, desde el comienzo, que aquí
no se trata de oponer dos ámbitos contradictorios
de praxis y saberes. Los chacobo conocen bien el
carácter biológico de las prácticas reproductivas, la
gestación, el alumbramiento y los cuidados relati-
vos a la salud y la enfermedad; sin embargo, este
cuerpo de conocimientos se encuentra englobado
por un universo cultural más amplio, compuesto
por estereotipos, valoraciones y clasificaciones de
mayor o menor grado de abstracción, así como
por representaciones asociadas con muchas de las
fases importantes del ciclo vital. Podríamos decir
entonces que entre los chacobo no se “nace” mujer,
sino que el hecho de acceder a la condición de y oxa
(mujer) constituye un proceso ciertamente iniciado
durante la gestación y el nacimiento, pero que debe
mantenerse y reafirmarse cotidianamente en diver-
sas instancias institucionalizadas. Se podrá objetar,
seguramente, que afirmar que el ciclo vital y los
procesos de constitución de la persona y el género
son construidos socialmente es incurrir en una ob-
viedad; pero lo importante, más que perseguir una
novedad, es más bien fundamentar esta afirmación
en la peculiaridad de un caso etnográfico concreto,
procurando dilucidar no tanto el qué sino el cómo.
II
Así como existe una fabricación social de la
“mujer”, existe también un trazado preciso de sus
relaciones con el sexo opuesto; y, como veremos,
no pocos datos invitan a pensar que en realidad son
dos caras de la misma moneda: la construcción
de la mujer es la construcción de sus relaciones
con los hombres. Sin embargo la determinación
del “sexo social” debe construirse materialmente
en la cotidianeidad, pues así como no es innata
tampoco puede ser calcada sobre el sexo biológico.
El imaginario, el simbolismo y la ideología del
género ubican en su correspondiente lugar no
sólo las relaciones entre los sexos, sino también
sus mismas diferencias. Mediante mitos, ritos,
discursos y prácticas diversas se bosqueja una
cierta lógica de las relaciones de género, la cual
modela luego los estereotipos del “Hombre” y
la “Mujer” que cada individuo medio aspira a
cumplir.
El análisis de los distintos procesos del ciclo
vital y la construcción de la persona chacobo, en
un primer momento, permite identificar relaciones
de complementariedad, interdependencia y coope-
ración entre los sexos. Sin embargo, al ser conside-
radas en su conjunto, se vuelve evidente que todas
estas relaciones son determinadas por una jerarqui-
zación más o menos implícita cuya característica
principal es la subordinación ideológica de un sexo
al otro. La antropología ha elaborado diferentes
teorías al respecto. Héritier descifra en los conjun-
tos de representaciones propios de cada sociedad
ciertos “elementos invariables” cuya disposición,
aunque se diferencie en cada grupo humano, se
traduce universalmente en una desigualdad que
denomina “valencia diferencial de los sexos”. Al
no fundamentarse necesariamente sobre factores
biológicos, esta asimetría se naturaliza volviéndose
una obviedad: “No es el sexo, sino la fecundi-
dad lo que determina la diferencia real entre 1°
masculino y lo femenino, y el dominio masculino,
que ahora conviene intentar comprender, consiste
fundamentalmente en el control, en la apropiación
de la fecundidad de la mujer en el momento en
que ésta es fecunda” (Héritier 1996: 227).
En el contexto más específico de la etnología
amazonista se han propuesto tesis similares. Bel-
lier detecta una oposición entre el carácter “profa-
no” de la mujer, ligado con su papel biológico en la
reproducción, y el carácter “sagrado” del hombre*
fundado sobre el dominio de la espiritualidad y Ia
fuerza. El resultado es el monopolio masculino de
la alianza y demás procesos sociales de producción
y reproducción; y la complementariedad de l°s
sexos no alcanza a ocultar la desigualdad entr6
ellos (Bellier 1993:519). Lorrain ha ido un pas°
más allá, abstrayendo un modelo analítico mucho
más detallado;
Existe un patrón básico de jerarquía de género cos-
mológico, económico y político a través de la Amazonia'
El grado y las modalidades específicas de esta jeraf'
quía son variables. Pero, no obstante, se caracteriza^
por los mismos principios fundamentales. Primero, e
shamanismo y el liderazgo en sus formas más potente8
son primariamente un asunto masculino, asociados af
quetípicamente con los roles proveedores en las inS
tancias sobrenaturales, económicas y políticas. Sega11
do, estos papeles de proveedores se asocian con ana
interdependencia jerárquica económica entre bomba-”
y mujeres, en la cual las últimas son típicamente laS
encargadas de limpiar los jardines, las casas, las heda
Anthropos 101-20^
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo
147
mientas. Tercero, estos roles se hallan legitimados por
una cosmología jerárquica del género, que suele asociar
los genitales masculinos con la caza y los ámbitos mas-
culinos económicos, sobrenaturales y políticos, y con
frecuencia involucra un grado de control - ejercitado
por medios tanto seculares como sobrenaturales - sobre
la sexualidad femenina y sobre la reproducción (Lorrain
2000: 305 s., traducción L. C).
Es lícito preguntarse, entonces, en qué medida
pueden aplicarse estas ideas al caso chacobo.
III
Para los chacobo son varios los atributos que
combinados posibilitan la vida. Pese a admitir que
el cuerpo “es como una corteza” (shakáta) que
envuelve una serie de componentes anímicos, en
ningún caso se discriminan de manera taxativa y
bien diferenciada las nociones siempre inciertas
de “cuerpo”, “alma”, “espíritu” o “fuerza vital”.
Los vínculos y las asociaciones entre todos estos
componentes son complejos, y varían en función
de los contextos de enunciación así como también
de los distintos informantes (Villar 2004). En
términos generales, sin embargo, la vida parece
ser considerada un equilibrio inestable entre tres
entidades que se traducen casi indistintamente por
nuestra idea de “alma”.
En primer lugar, la entidad llamada shinana,
que con frecuencia se traduce como “mente” o
alma”, refiere en un sentido amplio a la fuerza
vital, las percepciones, las emociones, el discur-
So y el pensamiento; en suma, a la composición
intelectual, sensorial y anímica del individuo. En
consecuencia, todo sugiere que la acepción más
abarcativa y ajustada a los hechos sería la de “vita-
lidad”, o a lo sumo “principio vital”. Se concentra
de forma paulatina en el pecho, más precisamente
en el corazón, y comienza a decrecer con la adultez
Y luego la muerte. Muchos informantes opinan que
d shinana tiene la forma y el tamaño de la perso-
también coinciden en que durante el sueño o
la enfermedad “sale” del cuerpo. Los animales y
Pintas (árboles y arbustos grandes, así como tam-
len el maíz, la mandioca y el algodón) también
P°seen shinana, y están sometidos al mismo ciclo
e desarrollo; su shinana crece durante la juventud
y comienza a menguar con el correr del tiempo. El
ninana no sólo decrece con la vejez, sino que en
caso del sueño, la enfermedad, y en grado mayor
en ^a muerte, puede ser atraído hacia el exterior del
cuerpo. Se dice así que el shinana de un moribun-
le ha abandonado”. Es crucial retener el hecho
e que esta entidad puede perderse en cualquier
Anth
momento crítico; y, en efecto, el peligro constante
de la pérdida de la humanidad es un tópico
recurrente en diversos ámbitos de la cosmología
chacobo.2
Si nos explayamos en el análisis del shinana
es porque se trata del componente que las mujeres
chacobo asocian más explícitamente con el creci-
miento del feto. Como en muchos grupos étnicos
amazónicos (Rival 1998: 625), la concepción tiene
lugar durante el acto sexual, cuando el semen
- que según algunos varones se origina en la
cintura del hombre - se mezcla con la sangre
de la mujer. La misma sangre es la que, de no
haber embarazo, se derramará todos los meses
durante la menstruación. El semen paterno y la
sangre materna se “cuajan”, y el niño comienza a
formarse mientras crece su shinana. El crecimiento
de éste, en efecto, de alguna forma mide el
desarrollo vital de un niño, relación plasmada en
la terminología referida al ciclo vital. Si bien no
hay una concordancia perfecta en el uso de las
categorías - por ejemplo, las mujeres se interesan
mucho más que los hombres por la discrimina-
ción entre éstas - sí puede abstraerse un cuadro
conceptual más o menos generalizado. Desde el
nacimiento hasta los tres años de edad, se de-
nomina al niño varón joni pistia o baque pistia
(hombre pequeño o hijo pequeño). De allí hasta los
siete u ocho años es llamado shina átsike {shinana
que crece). Luego, es denominado shina abená
(,shinana que se muestra, o que aparece). Llegando
a los veinte años, el joven es considerado como un
shina koshi (fuerte), accediendo con la adultez al
máximo grado de humanidad. Con la paternidad
los varones devienen “hombres verdaderos” y me-
recen el término de joni o joni’ria.
Estas etapas del desarrollo vital masculino no
encuentran un paralelo estricto en la terminología
que caracteriza el crecimiento de la mujer. A
la recién nacida se la llama yoxa-pistia (mujer
pequeña); luego, sucesivamente, yoxa-paxa (chica
virgen, aunque paxa literalmente significa crudo,
nuevo o fresco); yoxa-jaíni (mujer hija) o yoxa-
xotaco (mujer soltera). La condición femenina, de-
notada por el concepto de yoxa, pese a constituirse
progresivamente, parece encontrar su máximo de-
sarrollo en los roles de esposa y, sobre todo, de
madre.
Otro componente de la persona es el wéro-
kamáki. Como en otras lenguas paño, wéro signifi-
ca “ojo” y kámaki “sombra”, “imagen” o “reflejo”.
Se trata en esencia de la imagen reflejada de la
persona. Según algunos informantes, es la mate-
2 Córdoba 2003; Bossert y Villar 2002; Villar 2003, 2004.
'ropos 101.2006
148
Lorena Cordoba
rialización visible del shinana, por ende nombres
diferentes de una misma cosa. Sin embargo, otros
chacobo se apoyan en la distinción conceptual
entre ambos términos señalando que al morir el
individuo desaparece el shinana, mientras que el
wero-kamáki sigue vivo y sale de la tumba para
rondar los huertos y las casas de sus antiguos
familiares.
Un tercer concepto, yoshini, presenta una com-
plejidad mucho mayor. Aunque literalmente signi-
fica “viento”, la polisemia del término es enorme.
En ciertos contextos semánticos también puede
traducirse como una “alma”. Así como desde el
momento de la concepción un individuo es dotado
del shinana, también es portador del yoshini. Sin
embargo, el ciclo de desarrollo es inverso: durante
la infancia y la juventud está en estado latente,
sin manifestaciones notorias, y con la adultez y el
desarrollo de la persona crece de manera inversa-
mente proporcional con la decadencia del shinana.
Este crecimiento no detendrá su potencia ni siquie-
ra tras la muerte; de hecho, uno de los sentidos más
explícitos del término yoshini es el que, liberado
del cuerpo tras la muerte, remite tanto a las temidas
almas de los muertos como también a los espíritus
de la selva. En esta última configuración aparece
como “causa” de la gran mayoría de las situaciones
que los chacobo consideran temibles, como las
enfermedades, los diversos tipos de daño o aun
la potencia shamánica de perfiles malignos (Villar
2004).
IV
La complementariedad reproductiva entre el semen
paterno y la sangre materna durante la gestación no
alcanza a disimular la importancia de la ideología
en las relaciones de género. Según los informantes,
el papel desempeñado por la mujer en la concep-
ción parece quedar relegado a un plano secunda-
rio, al menos si se lo compara con el del varón.
La “agencia reproductora” parece ser concebida,
fundamentalmente, como una propiedad paterna.
De la misma manera, el sexo del hijo depende en
gran medida del padre; si ha tenido contacto con
plantas o bejucos asociados con la forma vaginal,
es muy probable que quede sentenciado a no tener
hijos varones.
Más allá del conocimiento de los procesos
biológicos, todo indica que la ideología chacobo
fundamenta la centralidad de la intervención mas-
culina en los procesos reproductivos. Como sucede
en numerosos grupos étnicos, el cuerpo femenino
es pensado como un depósito, mero receptáculo
para el semen del hombre. Esta afirmación merece
mayores precisiones. Los chacobo saben perfecta-
mente que la mujer es necesaria para la procrea-
ción, y que incluso lega ciertos caracteres físicos
a su hijo. No niegan la necesidad de ambos sexos
para la gestación: se sabe que un niño “desciende”
de sus dos progenitores. Este hecho es recono-
cido explícitamente en la onomástica, en la que
los niños son nombrados reiterando los nombres
de sus abuelos matemos, luego los paternos y
finalmente los tíos, con lo que la influencia ge-
nealógica de ambas líneas queda asegurada (Erik-
son 2002). Lo mismo sugiere la antigua afiliación
a los maxobo (lit.: gente de la misma cabeza). Los
informantes aseguran que cada persona recibía dos
nombres “ciánicos” provenientes de sus progeni-
tores. Así, por ejemplo, un individuo era Xénabo
(gente-gusano) por vía paterna y Cánabo (gente-
guacamayo amarillo) por vía materna (Córdoba y
Villar 2002).
No obstante, todo esto no impide que el influjo
decisivo, el que determina cómo será el niño, sea
el paterno. A pesar de la afirmación apresurada de
Heinz Kelm (1972), que anotaba que los chacobo
ignoraban los nexos precisos entre el acto sexual,
la procreación y filiación, sus representaciones n°
desconocen la fisiología. Es sólo que, debido a ra-
zones ideológicas, prefieren acentuar, en contextos
específicos, la ascendencia genealógica agnática;
o, por expresarlo de otro modo, optan por ver en
este “predominio de la agencia masculina en los
poderes productivos” (Lorrain 2000: 302) el influjo
determinante en la ubicación social del individuo
(Schapiro 1984: 20).
Más allá de la ideología explícita, conviene
examinar también las prácticas cotidianas. La im-
potencia y la infertilidad masculinas se atribuyen
al contacto del hombre con una especie de gusanos
que corroen la madera, llamados bisha. Sin embar-
go, según los chacobo estas afecciones son rever-
sibles mediante curas con barro y hojas tiernas de
la yuca, la huanicusa y un bejuco llamado asearía
Ahora bien, cuando un hombre no puede concebí
hijos, lo cual se considera una auténtica anómala
su mujer lo deja y busca otro marido; se piensa que
ella, entonces, engendrará sin mayores problemas-
Otro hecho significativo es que uno de los motivos
más asiduos para que las mujeres provoquen e
aborto es la falta de un cónyuge. Frente a la posiN'
lidad de criar un hijo sola, o que su compañero r>°
asuma su paternidad, no son pocos los casos en que
la mujer opta por interrumpir el embarazo, o m
cluso acudir al infanticidio. Con respecto al abod0
(pistia baque a-qué, lit.: hijo pequeño finalizados
las mujeres pueden provocar la expulsión del fet°
Anthropos 101-2^
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo
149
por medio de golpes en su estómago; o, de ser
temprana la gestación, mediante una hemorragia
producida por la ingesta de una infusión vegetal.
La práctica no es bien vista por los hombres,
pero sigue ocurriendo en la actualidad. Sin llegar
a proponer que exista entre las mujeres chacobo
un control organizado y plenamente asumido de
la natalidad, sabemos que sí conocen medios que
procuran evitar la concepción. Muchas mujeres
raspan los bejucos yabatapao y xípano y hierven
su corteza durante varias horas. Luego consumen
la amarga infusión dos o tres veces al día, mu-
chas veces a escondidas del marido; o, en otros
casos, proporcionada por la madre, que no desea
todavía que su hija quede embarazada. Todas estas
prácticas no cuentan con una aceptación explícita
de los hombres, y suelen quedar relegadas al plano
de la conducta privada de las mujeres. Pero más
allá de los eventuales métodos, y pese a que en la
vida cotidiana se observe que la mayor parte de
la crianza, educación y alimentación de la prole
queda a cargo de la mujer, al menos en el plano
ideológico no parece posible aceptar la carencia
de un padre. Pero en el caso inverso, es decir que
muera la parturienta, ningún testimonio indica que
d bebé deba padecer por ello, y en estos casos la
madre o alguna hermana de la mujer se encarga de
la crianza de la criatura. Incluso en la maternidad,
£1 acto femenino por antonomasia, la mujer parece
sustituible, y en todo caso depende en gran medida
de tener un hombre a su lado.
La primacía ideológica de la ascendencia pa-
terna no se limita a las ideas sobre la concepción,
smo que concuerda con otros hechos de la vida so-
mal chacobo. La antigua afiliación ciánica (maxo-
b°) era patrilineal, y se recuerda “que las mu-
jeres llevaban dibujados en sus rostros los motivos
elánicos de sus propios padres” (Córdoba y Villar
2002: 78). También los chacobo reconocen que el
1(leal de sucesión en el liderato político debería
Seguir la línea agnática. El repaso de la narrativa
tífica también sugiere la importancia simbólica
de la descendencia patrilineal. Toda una extensa
Sene de relatos narran el pasaje de una sexualidad
desviada a otra ordenada, instituida culturalmente.
Los protagonistas, luego de una cópula anómala
c°n objetos, animales o personas de su mismo
sex°, son conducidos por sus afines, a veces de for-
rna drástica y hasta forzada, hacia una sexualidad
aPr°piada y “normal”. Una mujer y un perro tienen
Perritos; una mujer y una víbora, viboritas; los
I d°s de estas aventuras amorosas siempre adoptan
,a forma y la personalidad paternas. Vemos, de
|§ual manera, reforzada esta presunción en un mito
e origen de la sexualidad, muy extendido entre
Anthropos 101.2006
los paño (Camargo 1999), en el cual un mono
capuchino enseña a los ancestros cómo copular
con sus mujeres. Hasta ese entonces los antepa-
sados tenían sus hijos con sus tutumas (mates). La
mujer aparece en esta narración como un elemento
prescindible, casi únicamente nutricio - de hecho,
su papel se limita a la función de alimentar con
su leche a los niños -, mera colaboradora en la
crianza de la descendencia del hombre (Córdoba
2003).
V
El vocabulario chacobo distingue al menos tres
términos para designar las fases del desarrollo del
estado de gravidez: natayá (cuando el niño tiene
poco tiempo, alrededor de dos meses luego de
la gestación); tojoya o baqueya (el estado de una
mujer propiamente embarazada); y comajaina (que
significa “parir” o, según algunas informantes,
“que falta poco para el nacimiento”). Hace casi
un siglo, Nordenskióld pudo observar la costumbre
de la couvade: “Cuando una mujer da a luz, el
hombre debe permanecer durante varios días en
la cabaña y no puede ir de caza para que el
niño no se enferme” (2003: 120). Podemos añadir
algunas precisiones. El tiempo de cuidados rituales
comienza para los futuros padres antes del alum-
bramiento, puesto que mientras el niño se confor-
ma en el vientre desarrolla su shinana, que como
vimos condiciona su grado de humanidad. Como
en tantos otros grupos, ambos padres deben acom-
pañar de forma responsable este proceso crítico,
acatando las prescripciones y las prohibiciones
alimenticias.3
La madre no puede ingerir animales machos,
ni asociados con un exceso de sangre (pava, anta,
vaca, mono). La trasgresión puede causar hincha-
zones, fiebres, encogimientos corporales y diversas
imperfecciones cutáneas al niño. Tampoco puede
ingerir taitetú macho ni jochi pintado, puesto que
esto puede provocarle temblores y problemas en
la cadera; ni tampoco marimono macho o monos
colorados, pues su ingestión provocaría fuertes
fiebres. Otras sustancias inconvenientes son los
plátanos, la caña de azúcar o la papaya, que llegan
a ser evitadas durante lapsos bastantes prolonga-
dos. Últimamente se ha añadido al repertorio tradi-
cional de interdicciones un pez llamado yatorana,
que es calificado como “muy sangriento”, con lo
cual su exclusión se condice con los criterios cla-
sifícatenos antes mencionados. Es preciso señalar
3 Métraux 1949; Rival 1998; Menget 1989.
150
Lorena Cordoba
que las mujeres que han tenido ya dos hijos o más
no padecen restricciones tan estrictas; y, de hecho,
las más experimentadas pueden comer casi todos
los animales sin mayores problemas.
La mujer grávida suele evitar también el contac-
to con niños con fiebre, o con víctimas reciente
de picaduras de serpiente. Por último, se dice que
podrán seguir teniendo relaciones sexuales hasta
el séptimo mes de embarazo; pero, más allá de
esa fecha, no es bien visto que la pareja tenga
relaciones sexuales. Las razones aducidas por los
informantes de ambos sexos - que en casi todos
los casos se entremezclan - parecen tan estéticas
como morales: el niño puede salir “cremoso”, y
hay temor a la vergüenza, el chisme, la habla-
duría y la acusación de incontinencia y falta de
control.
Durante el mismo lapso en que la mujer acata
estas restricciones, el comportamiento del padre
también se encuentra condicionado. No debe cazar
animales como el chancho de tropa, el mono y el
marimono; ya que, al igual que su ingesta por parte
de la madre, ello perjudicaría al niño. En términos
generales, el criterio clasificatorio que predomi-
na para excluir ciertas especies del repertorio de
caza parece ser el mismo que en el caso de la
alimentación de la mujer; es decir, la evitación
del derramamiento excesivo de sangre, la evitación
de los animales machos y la preferencia por los
vegetales y los pescados. El período de restric-
ciones no se cierra de modo mecánico, sino que
se diluye mediante un debilitamiento progresivo de
las prohibiciones. Como señala Menget, el sistema
de la couvade posee una gran flexibilidad, y la
clausura del período crítico puede variar debido
a una multiplicidad de causas (1989:265). Entre
los chacobo el cierre parece variar en función de
la salud del niño, la condición de sus padres y
la familia extensa, los temores eventuales y la
cantidad de nacimientos precedentes: por ejem-
plo, las prohibiciones no se aplican con el mismo
rigor a las parejas que ya han tenido dos o más
hijos.
Uno de los mayores peligros de la etapa de
gestación es el de las malformaciones, que muchos
chacobo imputan a coitos considerados anómalos.
Muchas veces esto conduce a casos de infantici-
dio, y hemos visto al “capitán grande” del pueblo
chacobo reprendiendo duramente a una mujer por
abandonar un niño en el monte. Muchos chacobo
opinan que las criaturas defectuosas no poseen
shinana, y en general se debe a que sus madres han
sido fecundadas por un espíritu yoshini. Lo más
frecuente es que una pareja mantenga relaciones
sexuales cerca de un hormiguero o un árbol grande
en el monte. Se podría pensar que la selva, infesta-
da de espíritus, debería ser evitada como un lugar
peligroso; pero, por el contrario, es el lugar más
recurrente para los amores de las parejas jóvenes
y las aventuras extraconyugales. Los indiscretos
yoshini que habitan en los árboles mantienen rela-
ciones sexuales junto con el varón, sin que ninguno
de los amantes pueda advertir la desgracia, que
será evidente cuando el rostro del niño deforme
delate su anómala paternidad. Otro indicio para
reconocer que un bebé ha sido concebido por un
yoshini es que tenga el cuerpo demasiado blando,
o la tez azulada. Se asocia la concepción de estos
niños al yoshini de una rana llamada cana popoa,
que también fecunda a la mujer mientras tiene
relaciones sexuales. Algunos chacobo, en conse-
cuencia, temen a las ranas que moran cerca de sus
casas, e incluso suelen espantarlas o aun matarlas.
Los peligros, en estos casos, no sólo conciernen al
niño. Es probable que las madres de estos niños
sufran hemorragias dolorosas y continuas, estado
que se denomina piaxe roko y se podría traducir
como “vagina con viruela” o “vagina con sar-
na”. Para prevenir estos nacimientos infortunados,
las madres suelen sobar, escupir y masajear sus
vientres durante horas.
Según Kelm, cuando llegaba la hora de parir la
mujer chacobo se encontraba sola en la vivienda,
librada a su suerte (1972). Sin embargo, nuestras
informaciones indican que las parturientas suelen
llamar a su madre o sus hermanas mayores cuando
sienten los primeros síntomas del dolor de parto
(baque quiniahaina). Las informantes más ancia-
nas recuerdan que antiguamente se daba a luz en el
monte, lejos de la mirada masculina, y lo explican
aduciendo que los hombres se burlaban de ellas si
gritaban durante el parto o demostraban de alguna
forma su dolor. Sea como fuere, ya sea por temor
a las burlas, o por mera vergüenza, durante el
alumbramiento las mujeres prefieren la presencia
exclusiva de la madre y las hermanas. Algunas dan
a luz en la casa, sentadas sobre un pequeño banco*
en una posición casi vertical. Para soportar el do-
lor utilizan un “secreto” o “soplo” (quebichi), u11
encantamiento que se practica sobando el vientre
y que se supone propicia un parto rápido. En el
momento del alumbramiento, la abuela materna de
la criatura suele recibirla, y junto con la madU
cortan el cordón umbilical, para luego enterrar Ia
placenta. El recién nacido es bañado y envuelto en
moro, una corteza de bibosí, para ser finalmente
presentado a su padre. En este momento, sin gral1
pompa ni ceremonias, se produce la imposici°n
del nombre en una acción denominada janehainl¡
(Erikson 2002).
Anthropos 101.20^0
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo
151
No sólo los padres están involucrados en el
ciclo de cuidados y precauciones. La familia ex-
tensa también está incluida en los procedimientos,
y en una sociedad fuertemente uxorilocal como
la chacobo no es raro que los abuelos mater-
nos oficien como “guardianes” de las restricciones
tradicionales. La etapa crítica para el desarrollo
del niño se extiende todavía durante unos meses.
Si el bebé llora constantemente, con o sin razón
aparente, o si tampoco duerme lo suficiente, es
porque “tiene susto” (caxo), una afección proba-
blemente provocada por alguna infracción a las
interdicciones, o porque el padre ha deambula-
do a la noche por la selva, trayendo consigo la
enfermedad del “mal viento” (yoshini). Muchos
suegros amonestan a sus yernos por este tipo de
irresponsabilidades. Para curar el susto existe un
québichi llamado caxona, mediante el cual la abue-
la sopla las manos, los pies, la cabeza y la cadera
del bebé. En términos positivos, como en el caso
de las prácticas para prevenir las malformaciones,
podría pensarse este conjunto de masajes y soplos
como un auténtico trabajo sobre el cuerpo, que pa-
rece articular un conjunto de prácticas destinadas
de manera específica a “modelar” al niño. Toda
una serie de prácticas procura evitar influencias
malignas y, en el plano verbal más explícito, que
el hijo no enferme ni pierda fuerza (chama). Los
chacobo procuran que sus niños se vean siempre
gordos y fuertes, pues ello es señal de crecimien-
to saludable. Así, algunos relatos míticos descri-
ben la práctica de frotar sangre de anta en el
pecho del niño, ya que en comunidades como
El Yata todavía es considerada como un tónico
fortalecedor (Philippe Erikson, comunicación per-
sonal).
VI
Antiguamente muchas de las prácticas de mode-
lado del cuerpo se renovaban en la iniciación.
Eos primeros vellos púbicos y el crecimiento de
l°s senos de las muchachas eran los indicadores
tE la inminente perforación nasal llamada reseti.
El encargado de esta tarea, según algunos, podía
Ser cualquier anciano; y según otros, un shamán
Robeco) de renombre. Este encargado perforaba
el septum (tabique masal) de los jóvenes con una
^spina de chuchío o un raquis de pluma afilado.
perforación marcaba la entrada a la pubertad;
ürante algún tiempo, se utilizaba un palito en
a misma para evitar que se cerrara la herida,
y una vez que cicatrizaba se colocaban en ella
Pttimas de tucán de diversos colores, a veces
Anthropos 101.2006
unidas mediante hilos de algodón.4 Nordenskiold
dedicó varias páginas a la vanidad, la arrogancia
y el pavoneo que provocaban estos ornamentos.
Los jóvenes y las muchachas llevaban todos el
mismo adorno, y vigilaban con mucho celo que
las plumas no cayeran de forma poco elegante.
Estos adornos se complementaban con otros he-
chos de conchas, dientes de animales y plumas
(Nordenskiold 2003: 97 ss.). Para los varones, el
segundo paso que formalizaba el tránsito hacia el
mundo de la adultez tenía lugar entre los 16 y 18
años, cuando se les perforaba el lóbulo auricular.
Una vez sanado, allí se les colocaban dientes de
carpincho, que según Heinz Kelm (1972) debían
ser cazados por ellos mismos.
Sin embargo, en el caso de las mujeres la
transición hacia la adultez no era - ni es - tan
sencilla. El momento decisivo es cuando se pro-
duce la menarca. La joven debe dar aviso a su
madre y, a partir de ese momento, mantener un
estricto aislamiento respecto de los miembros mas-
culinos de su familia y la comunidad en general.
Las informantes insisten en que ser vistas en ese
“estado” les provoca una profunda vergüenza. En
el pasado la madre debía colgar una hamaca en la
cumbrera del techo de la casa (shobo), aproxima-
damente a unos dos o tres metros de altura, donde
la muchacha debía recostarse y mantenerse quieta
un día y una noche completos. Transcurridas las
veinticuatro horas, bajaba y debía bañarse en el
arroyo, algunas veces acompañada por su madre y
por supuesto fuera de la vista de cualquier hombre.
Al día siguiente, la madre le cortaba el cabello al
ras. Según algunas viejas, el cabello “viejo” podía
tener el yoshini o el espíritu de ciertos animales
cuya consumición les estaba entonces vedada.
Durante la noche transcurrida en la hamaca, la
joven sólo se alimentaba con agua y maíz molido
suministrados por su madre. A partir de la menarca
debía respetar una dieta especial que prohibía el
consumo de animales como el anta, la pava, el
marimono, el tatú, el mono blanco o el pescado
yatorana; una vez más, los clasificados como “san-
grientos”, puesto que su consumo podría ocasionar
a la jovencita hemorragias continuas. Algunas in-
formantes, si bien de modo impreciso, relacionan
la duración de este período de restricciones con el
ciclo anual del cultivo. Sin embargo todo indica
que muchos de estos animales son los mismos
que durante el embarazo y el primer año de vida
del niño no deben ser consumidos por la madre,
por más que en el primer caso se prohíban por
4 Pueden verse buenas fotografías de estos adornos en Nor-
denskióld 2003.
152
Lorena Córdoba
su condición de “sangrientos” y no de “animales
machos”, como sucede en la couvade. En este
sentido, los datos chacobo apuntan a corroborar
la tesis de que los cuidados de la couvade muchas
veces suelen ser los mismos que los propios de
cualquier momento liminar como la iniciación,
la enfermedad, la menarca y la muerte (Rival
1998: 623, 630). Por ejemplo, los viejos recuer-
dan que los antiguos guerreros, luego de matar
a un oponente, debían cortarse el pelo, lavarse y
no consumir los mismos alimentos, y las razones
aducidas también se referían a las hemorragias. La
dieta, a partir de la menarca y durante un tiempo,
se basa en el consumo de perdices y varias especies
de pescados como el pintón, el tucunaré o el bagre.
El incumplimiento de la dieta provocaba que la
mujer fuera “panzona” o “barriguda”, condición
desaprobada por los cánones vernáculos de belle-
za. Pero las restricciones tampoco debían provocar
que la jovencita adelgazara en exceso, ya que la
robustez femenina es uno de los principales signos
positivos de fertilidad, fuerza y carácter.
La iniciación también es un momento de forma-
ción y aprendizaje. La madre o la abuela enseñan
cada mes a la jovencita el uso del moro, la corteza
de bibosí que ablandada y luego bien repujada se
utilizaba como tampón, a fin de no derramar dema-
siada sangre menstrual. En este contexto también
se le explican las razones - que van desde una
simple sensación de rechazo hasta una prohibición
explícita en las ancianas más tradicionalistas -
por las cuales las mujeres deben evitar tanto las
relaciones sexuales como la elaboración de chi-
cha mientras están menstruando. En ambos casos,
enfermarían o envejecerían prematuramente a los
varones. A lo largo de todo este período se res-
tringe al mínimo indispensable el contacto de la
muchacha con los hombres.
La muchacha también aprende en este lapso los
rudimentos de la crianza. Por ejemplo, aunque se
suele amamantar los niños hasta aproximadamente
el año y medio de vida, se le explica que en caso
de quedar nuevamente encinta deberá machucar la
raíz de una planta llamada nibosá, que tiene un
sabor muy amargo, y untársela en los pezones.
Cuando el niño comience a asociar, luego de
algunos intentos, el sabor amargo de la planta
con los pechos de su madre, cesará su período de
lactancia.
La iniciada también aprenderá los québichi, en-
cantamientos o conjuros propios de las mujeres.
El término, literalmente, puede traducirse como
“secreto de los labios”, o “secreto de soplar”, y es
aplicado en la vida cotidiana a tareas consideradas
propiamente femeninas como la cestería, el tejido
de hamacas, el parto, la cocina, la elaboración de
adornos, la salud de los niños y la cosecha. Tam-
bién sirven para las artes ambivalentes del daño
y su curación. La mayoría de estos secretos están
asociados con un animal, que será el “transmisor”
de la cura o la enfermedad: siempre es el québichi
“del anta”, “de la víbora”, etc. Se trata de fórmulas
breves, sintéticas, cantadas o murmuradas en voz
baja. Por ejemplo, el québichi para hacer crecer
el maíz mientras se siembra dice: bahua jiña
cahiria, bahua jiña cahiria, xoquéria (algo asi
como “la plumita del loro ya viene brotando,
la plumita de loro ya viene brotando, como la
cola del tucán”). El de la mandioca dice boi
tapo roa xo éa, boi tapo roa xo ea, mai sina
sina (la yuca crece como la raíz del mapajo,
quebrando la tierra). En ningún caso se trata de
un conocimiento “esotérico”, sino de fórmulas que
cualquiera puede conocer, pero cuya eficacia sólo
es lograda cuando son entonadas respetando las
condiciones necesarias de tiempo, espacio, edad,
etc. El aprendizaje de estos secretos está pautado
por diferentes tabúes alimentarios y un aislamiento
social generalizado. Dentro de una dieta ya de
por sí limitada, se especifica que las aprendices
no deben comer tampoco alimentos calientes, ni
animales como el mono. La práctica del québichi
está asociada, como la práctica shamánica, con 1°
frío, y opuesta con lo caliente y lo dulce (Villar
2004). No todas las mujeres conocen los mismos
secretos, pero en general todas conocen alguno. Se
asocia de un modo muy estrecho el aprendizaje de
estos secretos con el desarrollo y el ejercicio de Ia
memoria, la sensatez, la seriedad, la maduración y
la responsabilidad.
Esta instrucción “cierra” la formación de Ia
mujer: una vez que esté casada y embarazada
no podrá ya aprender nuevos secretos. Las infot'
mantés insisten en que este período resulta partí'
cularmente arduo por la dieta, la reclusión social’
etc. Actualmente, sin embargo, las jóvenes ya no
son subidas a una hamaca en lo alto de la casa»
sino que simplemente reposan todo el día en Ia
cama. El tradicional uso del moro como apósit°
ha dejado lugar a la utilización de compresas de
algodón. Continúan en plena vigencia, no obstante»
las prohibiciones alimenticias por temor a futuras
hemorragias, y el aprendizaje de los québichi, as1
como sus correspondientes requisitos.
VII
Las mujeres chacobo denominan, como auténtie0
momento de su “iniciación”, a la fiesta que s£
Anthropos 101,2006
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo
153
realiza transcurrido alrededor de un año desde la
primera menstruación, llamada sahuequehaina. Si
bien muchas traducen el término como una especie
de equivalente de nuestra idea de un “rito de paso”,
también es cierto que literalmente quiere decir
“pollera”, o que remite a una idea más genérica de
“ropa femenina”. El cabello de la joven “vuelve a
estar bonito”, pues ha crecido ya lo suficiente co-
mo para que su apariencia sea claramente diferente
a la de sus hermanos varones. En este momento,
pues, el padre de la joven ofrece una fiesta para
todos los parientes y amigos de la familia. Si bien
dijimos que las encargadas de la instrucción y el
acatamiento de las regulaciones son la madre o la
abuela de las muchachas, una vez transcurrido el
período de prescripciones, privaciones y ayuno son
sus padres quienes ofrecen una fiesta en su honor,
evento que marcará en público que la muchacha
es ya una mujer desposable, una huane (lit.: pri-
ma cruzada). El padre, “dueño” (íbo) de la fiesta,
sale entonces varios días a cazar y a pescar para
disponer de la carne necesaria, mientras que su
esposa y sus otras hijas elaboran la chicha de
yuca o de maíz. El motivo principal de la fiesta,
según declaran hombres y mujeres, es celebrar que
la mujer ha cumplido con éxito las prohibiciones
alimenticias recompensándola luego de tantas pri-
vaciones. En las palabras de un padre chacobo, “mi
hija está cambiando de modelo: ya no tengo que
cuidarla”.
El papel de íbo es sintomático del control y la
apropiación masculina de las etapas cruciales en
la definición social de la mujer. Tanto la joven en
cuyo honor se ofrece la fiesta como su madre y sus
hermanas, que son quienes la han vigilado, educa-
do y formado durante la larga etapa de transición,
asumen para este evento consagratorio el papel
de simples productoras de chicha, mientras que el
Padre, que oficia de generoso dador y distribuidor,
celebra en público la feminidad de su hija, apro-
vechando en su beneficio los valores simbólicos
y políticos del convite (Rivière 1987: 188; Lorrain
2000: 302).
La joven, tras el abundante reparto de comida
y bebida, solía presentarse en sociedad con los
adornos tradicionales; la corona (chao) hecha con
Plumas de tucán y tojo; los brazaletes; las tobille-
ras> compuestas con chimo o bejuco blanco y quisi
0 semillas negras; y el xapocotí, una suerte de
laParrabos que ocultaba el sexo. Antiguamente, las
uiujeres adornaban su rèseti con plumas de tucán,
lambién solían pintarse todo el cuerpo con bí, una
ruta Que al rayarse y mezclarse con agua da una
uitura azul; o con urucú, otro fruto que a través
e un procedimiento similar sirve para obtener
Anthropos 101.2006
el color rojo. Algunas ancianas cuentan que era
justamente entonces cuando se dibujaban en sus
rostros, por vez primera, la figura que indicaba su
afiliación ciánica.
Luego de la celebración, la muchacha no se une
de inmediato en matrimonio, sino que transcurre
todavía un tiempo instruyéndose en las diversas
tareas femeninas. Pero durante las subsiguientes
menstruaciones ya no observa los tabúes alimenta-
rios, y simplemente algunas de las prohibiciones se
trasladan a la vida cotidiana. Luego de un tiempo,
es considerada una mujer desposable, y la posibi-
lidad del matrimonio no es lejana: la costumbre
chacobo, en efecto, consiste en unirse temprana-
mente. Los casos promedio rondan a veces los
trece o catorce años, y nunca se espera más allá
de los veinte.5 En lugar de la tradicional fiesta
sahuequehaina, actualmente se festeja el “cum-
pleaños” de la joven al año de acontecer la me-
narca; pero la madre ya no le corta su cabello al
ras, sino a la altura de los hombros, celebrando
en ocasión de esta fiesta el crecimiento del nuevo
cabello.
VIII
Entre los chacobo la división del trabajo, al igual
que en otros grupos étnicos amazónicos, sigue
un patrón de interdependencia: mientras que el
hombre sale a cazar, la mujer prepara los alimentos
y los procesa para alimentar a la familia. La
identidad de los géneros se articula en buena parte
en torno de esta división del trabajo, y una serie
de asociaciones tanto prácticas como simbólicas
ubican, de un lado, al hombre, la caza y la selva;
y, por el otro, a las mujeres, las plantas cultivadas
y la esfera doméstica.6
La división funciona de forma bastante fluida:
el hombre prepara el chaco (plantación) para la
siembra, ayudado por toda su familia. Es res-
ponsable además de traer a la casa los bienes
“externos” que se consideran necesarios para su
funcionamiento, como dinero, ropa, aceite, pilas,
balas, etc. (Knauft 1997). Mientras el varón y los
hijos adultos se encargan del trabajo más pesado
5 Véase Córdoba y Villar 2002 para un estudio de la alianza
chacobo y sus cambios a través de los años.
6 Se ha sugerido incluso que los chacobo no se han dedicado a
la cría de animales domésticos porque la obtención de carne
en la casa, ámbito femenino por excelencia, provocaría
un conflicto con la división del trabajo tradicional, y más
precisamente con el papel masculino de proveedor de la
carne (Erikson 1999).
154
Lorena Cordoba
- el desmonte, limpieza y quema - la mujer se
ocupa de la siembra, y principalmente de la co-
secha. Además, aporta a la dieta familiar algunas
especies consideradas específicamente femeninas
como el camote o el ají, que suele plantar en un
pequeño almácigo cerca de su casa. La preparación
de las fiestas de bebida supone un trabajo arduo en
el cual, durante no menos de cuatro o cinco días,
la dueña de la casa - junto con sus hijas y herma-
nas - deben convertir la cotidiana chicha dulce en
la bebida festiva, ácida y fermentada que servirán
para agasajar a los invitados. Se trata de un tra-
bajo complejo que implica cosechar más yuca que
la normal, cocinar la bebida y luego proceder a
fermentarla.
Las mujeres se ocupan de la mayor parte
de la alimentación de su familia y, en especial,
de procesar los alimentos; por ejemplo, cortar y
hervir la mandioca durante horas para elaborar la
chicha dulce, que luego es consumida por todos.
Con la yuca también pueden hacer chivé, un
polvillo consumido como condimento de la carne
o el arroz. Para cocinar deben entrar al monte y
aprovisionarse de suficiente madera, y a veces, los
hijos más grandes pueden ayudarla en esta tarea,
acarreando los troncos más pesados. Si bien la
mujer chacobo no posee una huerta propia, muchos
maridos se encargan de separar para sus esposas
una porción especial del terreno para que planten
mandioca, la papaya o la gualuza. Cuando se trata
de un hombre que tiene varias esposas, debe cuidar
de que cada una de ellas posea su correspondiente
terreno de cultivo.
Además de la crianza de los niños y la alimen-
tación, otro de los principales quehaceres femeni-
nos consiste en el barrido diario de la vivienda,
realizado con escobas compuestas con manojos
de hierbas denominadas tashapaboti. Durante las
tardes las mujeres suelen dedicarse a tejer algunos
cestos con hojas de palmeras o hamacas con hilo
de algodón, o tal vez a confeccionar algún tiesto
de cerámica, realizada con una mezcla de arcilla
y cenizas. Asimismo, cosen y remiendan la ropa
de toda la familia, y también se encargan de su
lavado. Otra de las tareas importantes es el abas-
tecimiento de agua para la casa; es la mujer quien
llena a diario los recipientes. En la actualidad,
alrededor de la única toma de agua potable de la
comunidad, se concentran las niñas o las mujeres,
que conversan mientras recogen agua para sus
casas. Otra de los trabajos propios de las mujeres
- ya mayores - es el de comadronas.
La división de tareas masculinas y femeninas se
cristaliza, en cierto modo, en los objetos propios de
cada género. Por ejemplo, existen diferentes tipos
de cestos redondeados que se llaman indistinta-
mente chichama y que son conceptualizados como
marcadamente femeninos (el único cesto que posee
un nombre particular es uno cuadrangular llamado
cacano, que es utilizado para transportar la leña
y la mandioca). Ya en la narrativa mítica encon-
tramos algunos objetos que, al ser donados por
algún personaje, son identificados explícitamente
con las mujeres o bien con los hombres. En la
saga de Mabocorihua, por ejemplo, el astuto pro-
tagonista roba a las águilas aquellos materiales
con los cuales elaboraban sus nidos; luego, con
ellos, enseña a las mujeres el arte de la cestería.
Asimismo, existían unos seres subterráneos llama-
dos mainá (lit.: de la tierra) que devoraban a los
chacobo pues los consideraban sus cerdos, hasta
el día en que éstos organizaron una expedición
punitiva y los exterminaron. Sin embargo, uno
de los antepasados llevó a una pareja de jóvenes
mainá a vivir con él, procurando civilizarlos. Tras
muchas penurias, debió matar al joven, que era
muy indócil, pero la joven mainá aprendió a convi-
vir con los humanos, se unió en matrimonio con
el hombre y enseñó a las mujeres los secretos
del tejido, la cestería y la alfarería (Villar 2003)-
Según los ancianos más tradicionalistas, entre 1°
masculino y lo femenino, o más bien entre las
cosas que pertenecían a cada uno de los sexos,
existían antiguamente interdicciones, o al menos
costumbres que regulaban su contacto. De esta
manera, el arco y la flecha, elementos propiamente
masculinos, perdían su eficacia si eran mirados 0
tocados por las mujeres. A la vez, el pitéxti, tiesto
de cerámica que la mujer utilizaba para la cocción
de la yuca, se resquebrajaba y dejaba de ser útil
si durante su elaboración era tocado por una mano
masculina.
IX
Cuando una mujer es muy mayor, y su marido no
puede cazar más, suelen ser sus hijas y sus yernos
quienes separan una porción de sus propias presa8
o cultivos para alimentarla. Esto es concebido casi
como una obligación por parte de los hijos y sns
consortes; pues, de no hacerlo, serían objeto de
severas críticas.
Si bien hemos visto que, más allá de los ath'
butos compartidos por todos, la condición pr°'
piamente femenina “explota” entre la iniciación
y la alianza, como esta condición no es fija 111
inmutable tiene a su vez una “marca” que cié#11
y concluye su ciclo de desarrollo: la menopausia
{baque yama\ lit.: sin hijos). “Se pone de mam
Anthropos 101.20°6
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo
155
fiesto que la mujer estéril no es, o ya no es, una
mujer propiamente dicha” (Héritier 1996:227):
estas palabras merecerían la aprobación de los
chacobo, para quienes en definitiva se es “mujer”
desde la primera menstruación hasta la última.
No son pocos los que, en efecto, señalan que
las ancianas dejan de ser conceptualizadas como
mujeres. Su condición liminar parece confirmada
por un hecho significativo: se recuerda que en las
fiestas comunitarias las viejas de edad avanzada
dejaban de utilizar su pintura ciánica, y adoptaban
la de sus maridos; podría decirse que dejaban
de estar conceptualizadas para éstos como afines,
Otros” con los cuales se establecen las rela-
ciones de alianza, para pasar a ser consanguíneos,
cada vez más integrados en el grupo social de sus
esposos.
Sin embargo, con la muerte resurgen las mar-
cas del sexo, pues los ritos fúnebres introducen
Nuevamente la discriminación de género. Si con
la ancianidad la mujer pierde momentáneamente
Su papel de reproductora, dejando de ser una mu-
jer social, con la muerte el cuerpo debe reposar
Espetando su condición femenina. La costumbre
tradicional, en efecto, prescribía que las mujeres
fiaran enterradas de costado, mirando hacia el
lr,terior de la comunidad y en especial el agua;
Se§ún la explicación de las informantes, porque “es
^1 camino que hizo durante su vida”. En cambio los
Nombres, por ese mismo motivo, eran enterrados
de cara al monte. Otros viejos añaden que también
s°lían enterrar a sus mujeres con sus hamacas, y
a los varones con sus arcos y flechas, elemen-
°s que como hemos dicho constituyen marcas
e definición del género. El doble criterio en las
tequias parece remitir, en un primer momento, a
aNa oposición de orden sociológico que refleja la
Ncrte tendencia a la uxorilocalidad, que conserva
a las mujeres en el interior de la familia extensa
^ hace circular a los varones en el exterior; pero,
eN segunda instancia, parece remitir a un modelo
Slmbólico de ordenamiento más comprehensivo:
muJcr : interior : doméstico : aldea :: hombre :
exterior : público : selva.
^ La uxorilocalidad no se define solamente sobre
a base de una comprobación de una regularidad
afiística - que de hecho existe - sino que los
lsmos chacobo señalan sus “ventajas” funcio-
. es- Incluso quienes han abandonado la comu-
s acl y residen en la ciudad defienden el buen
fid0 y la practicidad de la vieja costumbre,
timando que tener a la hija y a su marido compar-
es Ndo la casa pero con “ollas separadas” con ellos
Niuy conveniente, pues sirve como “período de
eba” para el yerno. Las racionalizaciones de
Anth;
r°Pos 101.2006
los informantes ofrecen así claves invaluables para
iluminar las preferencias, los ideales y los valores.
Hemos dicho que la tendencia general consiste en
la retención de las mujeres y la circulación de los
hombres; pero, más específicamente, la retención
de las hijas se traduce en una política explícita
de producción de afines, y principalmente de re-
laciones suegro-yerno, designadas recíprocamente
mediante el término raisi.1 Debido al período de
servicio que cada yerno debe tradicionalmente
a sus afines, es lógico que cada jefe de fami-
lia procure aumentar su “fuerza de trabajo” me-
diante la incorporación de numerosos hombres
jóvenes a la economía de su familia extensa (Tur-
ner 1996:46). No extraña en estas condiciones
la preferencia por una administración eficiente
de la condición de “suegro”, ni que se idealice
al hombre que tenga varias hijas: los chacobo
saben que de esa forma disfrutará de una vejez
tranquila.
Pero habíamos dicho que la ecuación mujer : in-
terior :: hombre : exterior refleja un estado de cosas
más amplio. Si mediante las pautas tradicionales
de organización social, como la uxorilocalidad y
la división del trabajo, la mujer queda relegada al
dominio doméstico mientras su marido sale al ex-
terior, lo mismo se refleja en el caso de la organiza-
ción sociopolítica comunitaria. Es evidente que los
varones monopolizan las posiciones de mayor res-
ponsabilidad, dirección y prestigio. Si bien la divi-
sión del trabajo en la familia nuclear hace que las
funciones productivas sean distribuidas de modo
complementario entre hombres y mujeres, en las
funciones públicas puede comprobarse un evidente
monopolio masculino. En los niveles intralocal y
supralocal de organización política no se observa
la participación - siquiera la presencia - de las
mujeres. El “Capitán Grande” que lidera el pueblo
chacobo y cada “presidente” de las respectivas
comunidades; los dirigentes de las organizaciones
de representación y lucha por los reclamos y dere-
chos indígenas; los dirigentes de las cooperativas;
las autoridades escolares o religiosas ... todos son
varones. Más allá de las instituciones formales, en
la toma de decisiones cotidiana hemos presenciado
varias asambleas comunales en la antigua “casa de
hombres” (joni shobo) en las que se discutieron
temas como divorcios, proyectos gubernamentales
7 Ego, su PA.EA (WF) y MA.EA (WM) se llaman mutua-
mente raisi, en tanto que ningún término específico designa
la relación entre EA (W) y PA.EO (HE) y MA.EO (HM)
(Córdoba y Villar 2002: 94). Se ha llegado a afirmar, in-
clusive, que entre los chacobo la relación entre una mujer
y los padres de su marido “no existe étnicamente” (Prost
1983).
156
Lorena Cordoba
o la misma llegada y estadía de los antropólogos.
El espacio físico que ocupan las mujeres en es-
tas reuniones es significativo. Mientras que los
hombres ancianos son los que mayoritariamente
ocupan los precarios bancos de la casa, los jóvenes
y adultos masculinos van cerrando el círculo. Las
mujeres y los niños se sientan a unos dos o tres
metros de la casa, en el pasto, y desde allí escuchan
ocasionalmente los debates. En ninguna oportu-
nidad hemos visto que intervinieran, o que apor-
taran algún comentario a las discusiones que se
suscitaban.
Esta disposición espacial no deja de recordar
la de los convites, en los cuales como vimos las
mujeres preparan durante días las bebidas que lue-
go su marido ofrece y distribuye en su calidad
de “dueño” de la fiesta. Durante la celebración
los bailarines se disponen en círculos concéntricos,
jerarquizados por la distancia más o menos grande
que los separa del recipiente de la chicha en el
centro. En el primer anillo se encuentran el shamán
y sus asistentes; luego, los hombres maduros; lue-
go los adolescentes; y finalmente, relegados a la
periferia, en el anillo más lejano se encuentran
los niños muy jóvenes y las mujeres (Erikson
2000). Tanto en el caso de las asambleas como en
el de los convites, la disposición espacial de los
presentes podría describirse como jerárquicamente
concéntrica, y la inversión de los espacios - los
hombres en el centro y las mujeres en la periferia -
no parece ser un mecanismo meramente simbólico,
ni negar en modo alguno la ecuación antes men-
cionada, sino más bien la materialización concreta
de una distribución de responsabilidades y poderes
entre los sexos.
Los dirigentes en las organizaciones supra-
locales como la CIRABO (Central Indígena de la
Región Amazónica Boliviana), que representan a
los chacobo ante el exterior, son casi todos va-
rones. También sucede igual si hay que negociar
en alguna ciudad la venta de productos como el
palmito o las castañas: siempre son los hombres
los encargados de las “relaciones exteriores”. Un
factor a tener en cuenta es que la gran mayoría
de las mujeres hablan muy poco el español. Esto
se debe, en gran parte, a la deserción escolar
producto de los embarazos tempranos. Pero no
es sólo que las jóvenes no aprendan el español,
o que lo aprendan menos que los varones, si-
no que además la mayoría de ellas no lo puede
poner en práctica, puesto que no interactúa en
la esfera pública. Es obvio que esto constituye
un círculo vicioso que potencia la desigualdad,
ya que sólo los hombres suelen concluir el ci-
clo escolar y por ende acceder a una formación
superior.8 Pero no puede descartarse, tampoco, un
último factor. La tendencia hacia la supremacía
masculina bien pudo haber sido potenciada por
la presencia de agentes del estado-nación, ONGs,
misioneros y comerciantes, cuya selección de in-
terlocutores chacobo se orienta claramente hacia
el mundo de los hombres.
X
Los datos sugieren, en definitiva, un cuadro que
problematiza - cuando no niega directamente - la
imagen indulgente de la “sociedad de la igualdad’
que el misionero Prost creyó advertir entre los
chacobo hace más de veinte años (1983). Parece
indiscutible que la humanidad, la persona y en par-
ticular la feminidad chacobo se construyen progre-
sivamente, mediante ciclos bien determinados de
modelado y fabricación social de la persona. Pero
en el caso femenino, la definición de su propia
condición involucra no sólo sus propios conteni-
dos, sino también el trazado de sus relaciones con
el sexo opuesto; relaciones, como hemos compro-
bado, cuyo curso queda bien determinado por la
ideología.
Una primera objeción ante este planteo podría
entonces ignorar este último paso. Es decir, dejar
de lado las valoraciones implícitas en la ideology
enfatizando las relaciones de complementariedad
entre los sexos por sobre las de subordinación. El
argumento típico en este sentido es que si bien
hombres monopolizan las esferas de las relacione8
públicas, las mujeres predominan en los roles
informales o privados, que sirven para mantener
el equilibrio y la integridad del household. Pero-
como han destacado ya numerosos autores, ^
punto clave radica en no confundir la indiscutible’
complementariedad entre los sexos con la simetría
o la igualdad entre ellos: “Incluso si la teoría local
presenta los sexos como complementarios (tal es
el caso del pensamiento chino o del islámico, pof
ejemplo), siempre y en todos los lugares hay un
sexo mayor y otro menor, un sexo fuerte y un
sexo débil. Se trata, en este caso, del lenguaje de
la ideología”.9
Un segundo tipo de cuestionamiento podría ar-
gumentar que en los datos expuestos existen prue-
bas de “estrategias” y márgenes de maniobra de
sexo femenino que equilibrarían o subvertirían 6
8 La Misión Evangélica Suiza, por ejemplo, suele incluí1
los muchachos más prometedores en sus cursos para age11
sanitarios, maestros de grado o pastores evangélicos.
9 Héritier 1996; 67; Bellier 1993; Lorrain 2000.
Anthropos 101-20^
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la construcción de la persona chacobo
157
dominio ideológico masculino. Por ejemplo, aque-
llos contextos concretos de producción de la femi-
nidad, como la enseñanza de las responsabilidades
Y los quehaceres femeninos durante la iniciación.
Pero hemos visto que las mismas prácticas que
definen las esferas más íntimas de producción de lo
femenino son subordinadas luego al control de los
hombres, tal como se evidencia en las fiestas. He-
ñios visto además cómo la valoración diferencial
de los sexos opera, precisamente, en los contex-
tos que a priori se piensan como específicamente
femeninos - la procreación, el embarazo, la mi-
ración - naturalizando el ordenamiento moral
nnpuesto por la ideología. Podría hablarse incluso
de una consciencia social “alienada”, en el sentido
de que ciertos grupos sociales deben adaptarse a
un orden de las cosas arbitrario e idiosincrásico
^ne, sin embargo, conciben como “obvio” y “na-
tural” (Tumer 1996: 43 s.). Los hombres forjan una
sUerte de monopolio de las prácticas de producción
^ reproducción social, manipulando en su propio
beneficio la fecundidad, la sexualidad y la divi-
Sldn sexual del trabajo (Lorrain 2000; Mentore
1987). Lo paradójico es que las diversas formas,
Estancias y funciones corporales, así como las
diferencias anatómicas y fisiológicas que nacen de
as diferentes funciones de los sexos en el proce-
s° de la reproducción, proporcionan los mismos
Materiales con los cuales se fabrican los discursos
hue justifican las desigualdades entre hombres y
Mujeres (Godelier 1986: 10). Incluso los abusos
^°utra las mujeres se justifican en el “idioma”
e la ideología de las relaciones de género. El
CJMtrol masculino no siempre queda circunscripto
Plano simbólico, y en efecto hemos presenciado
asambleas comunitarias chacobo en las cuales se
tusaba al hombre de haber abusado de sus pre-
Mugativas conyugales pegándole demasiado a su
esposa.10
Jesuíta curioso, en este sentido, constatar el
n° ’ de las prácticas que entre los chacobo
dufinen las cualidades de ambos sexos. Como en
ulpos de Nordenskiold, los hombres todavía se
PclVOn
_ uuean y se muestran orgullosos de su condi-
eu i Mientras que el sentimiento que predomina
as prácticas propiamente femeninas como el
^ °» la menarca o aun la iniciación es, clara-
e> la vergüenza. E incluso cuando las estrate-
L misma manera, Lorrain advirtió entre los kulina
as justificaciones para las palizas dadas a las mujeres:
n° querer tener más hijos, ser promiscuas, resistirse a las
Vl°laciones, etc. Aun en los casos que son contradictorios
®utre sí, los pretextos se sirven todos del lenguaje cultural
el género (2000: 296).
Mith
r°pos 101.2006
gias femeninas son mantenidas en celoso secreto,
tal como sucede en el caso de la administración
de las hierbas abortivas y contraconceptivas, me-
diante su clandestinidad no parecen sino confirmar
de manera tácita la omnipresencia del dominio
ideológico masculino. Al hurgar los intersticios de
un orden casi monolítico, de hecho, no plantean
una alternativa valorativa, ni un ideal de “mujer”
distinto, sino que sólo dificultan, obstruyen o - en
el mejor de los casos niegan - el cumplimiento de
aquél que cotidianamente impone la cultura mas-
culina: una condición de la feminidad definida por
la alianza, el trabajo doméstico y la maternidad.
Agradecemos a Isabelle Combés, Philippe Erikson, Ale-
jandra Siffredi y Diego Villar por leer y comentar una
versión preliminar de este trabajo.
Bibliografía
Bellier, Irène
1993 Réflexions sur la question de genre dans les sociétés
amazoniennes. L’Homme 33/126-128:517-526.
Bossert, Federico, y Diego Villar
2002 La vieja egoísta y el fuego. Anthropos 97: 367-378.
Camargo, Eliane
1999 La découverte de l’amour par Hidi Xinu - Récit caxi-
naua. (El descubrimiento del amor por Hidi Shinu. Una
narración cashinahua.) Bulletin de l’Institut Français
d’Études Andines 28: 249-270.
Córdoba, Lorena
2003 Algunas claves temáticas en la representación mítica de
la humanidad chacobo. (Ponencia presentada en el 51°
Congreso Internacional de Americanistas, Santiago de
Chile.)
Córdoba, Lorena, y Diego Villar
2002 Cambios y continuidades de la alianza entre los chaco-
bo. Scripta Ethnologica 23; 75-100.
Dumont, Louis
1987 Ensayos sobre el individualismo. Una perspectiva antro-
pológica sobre la ideología moderna. Madrid: Alianza.
Erikson, Philippe
1999 Du pécari au manioc ou du riz sans porc? Reflexions
sur l’introduction de la riziculture et de l’élevage chez
les Chacobo (Amazonie bolivienne). In: M. Martin y
M. Garrigues-Cresswell (éds.), Résistance et change-
ments des comportements alimentaires; pp. 363-378.
[Spécial issue of Techniques & Culture 31-32]
2000 Dialogues à vif ... Note sur les salutations en Ama-
zonie. In: A. Monod-Becquelin y P. Erikson (éds.), Les
rituels du dialogue. Promenades ethnolinguistiques en
terres amérindiennes; pp. 113-136. Nanterre; Société
d’Ethnologie.
2002 Cana, Nabai, Baita y los demás ... Comentarios sobre
la onomástica chacobo. Scripta Ethnologica 23: 59-74.
Godelier, Maurice
1986 La producción de grandes hombres. Madrid: Akal.
158
Lorena Cordoba
Héritier, Françoise
1996 Masculino/Femenino. El pensamiento de la diferencia.
Barcelona: Ariel.
Kelm, Heinz
1972 Chácobo 1970. Eine Restgruppe der Südost-Pano im
Oriente Boliviens. Tribus 21: 129-246.
Knauft, Bruce M,
1997 Gender Identity, Political Economy, and Modernity
in Melanesia and Amazonia. Journal of the Royal
Anthropological Institute 3: 233-259.
Lorrain, Claire
2000 Cosmic Reproduction, Economics, and Politics among
the Kulina of Southwest Amazonia. Journal of the Royal
Anthropological Institute 6: 293-310.
Menget, Patrick
1989 Tiempo de nacer, tiempo de ser. La covada. En: M. Izard
y P. Smith (ed.), La función simbólica; pp. 257-276.
Madrid: fúcar Universidad.
Mentore, George P.
1987 Waiwai Women. The Basis of Wealth and Power. Man
22:511-527.
Métraux, Alfred
1949 The couvade. In: J. H. Steward (ed.), Handbook of
South American Indians. Vol. 5: The Comparative Eth-
nology of South American Indians; pp. 369-374. Wash-
ington: U. S. Government Printing. (Smithsonian Insti-
tution. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 143)
Nordenskiold, Erland
2003 Indios y blancos en el nordeste de Bolivia. La Paz:
APCOB. [1911]
Prost, Gilbert
1983 Chácobo. Society of Equality. Gainesville: University
of Florida. [Tesis de maestría]
Rival, Laura
1998 Androgynous Parents and Guest Children. The Huao-
rani Couvade. Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute 4: 619-642.
Rivière, Peter
1987 Of Women, Men, and Manioc. In: F. Salomon and
H. Skar (eds.), Natives and Neighbours in South Amer-
ica. Anthropological Essays; pp. 178-201. Göteborg:
Göteborg Etnografiska Museum.
Schapiro, Judith R.
1984 Marriage Rules, Marriage Exchange, and the Definition
of Marriage in Lowland South American Societies. In:
K. M. Kensinger (ed.), Marriage Practices in Lowland
South America; pp. 1 -30. Urbana: University of Illinois
Press. (Illinois Studies in Anthropology, 14)
Turner, Terence
1996 Social Complexity and Recursive Hierarchy in Indig6'
nous South American Societies. Journal of the Steward
Anthropological Society 24/1-2: 37-59.
Villar, Diego
2004 La noción de yoshini entre los chácobo. Una interprß'
tación. En: M. S. Cipolletti (ed.), Los mundos de abajo
y los mundos de arriba. Individuo y sociedad en laS
tierras bajas, en los Andes y más allá; pp. 165—201-
Quito: Abya-Yala.
2003 Variaciones narrativas en un mito chácobo (Amazonia
boliviana). Trabalhos de Antropologia e Etnologia 43/
3-4: 119-131.
Anthropos 101-20^
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 159-167
The Urban Manchinery Youth and Social Capital
in Western Amazonian Contemporary Rituals
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen
bstract. - This article presents the meaning of traditional
ritUals and practices for the urban indigenous youth by apply-
ln8 the concept of social capital. The ayahuasca ceremonies,
^'dtural and political meetings are examined in the city of
10 Branco, Brazilian Amazon. The results indicate that these
^alistic practices increase the social inclusion of one’s own
; hnic group, other indigenous groups, and the White popula-
,<la since they can break down social barriers. In these new
, Clal networks the indigenous youth benefit from being an
lan due to recent sociopolitical changes that have opened a
w space for them in the social structure and, therefore, they
, n use their symbolic social capital. [Brazil, Amazon, ritual,
lSenous adolescents, social capital, urban space]
pirJ° Kristiina Virtanen, M. A. degree (University of Turku,
Jn ancf 2000), Ph. D. student of Latin American Studies at the
nia-VerSity Helsinki working on “Modernization in Amazo-
e '„Worldview and Sozial Organization of Young Manchin-
the 'S also 'nvolvec* in the project “Man and Nature in
of tA/eslern American History” led by Prof. Martti Parssinen
Her ^at’n American Studies of the University of Helsinki. -
\y Publications include: “Life Cycle and Customs of Hindu
VJ**” (In: T. Maki, “Learning India.” Turku 1996); and
*°Us articles on the Amazon.
^Htroduction
'j’l
e study of Amazonian indigenous people has
a range of ethnographical material on
in ,l0Us ethnic groups and their rituals. In Amer-
ess^an communities rituals have occurred as an
and ntla* Part agricultural and hunting practices
life assuming new tasks and roles along a
bee c^cle. The main objective of these rituals has
t0 Protect the community from the harmful
r^les coming from the outside and to make
persons full members of the community.1 Howev-
er, in this view the native Amazonian adolescents
have only been presented when they have been
transformed into “true human beings” through ini-
tiation rituals,2 which vary from one community
to another and have been central rituals in almost
all indigenous communities of the Amazon.
In general, there has been a growing interest
in youth studies of researching the youth as an
active agent producing something on its own in
a modem multicultural context (Massey and Jess
1995; Wulff 1995). These studies have presented
an important aspect of the different kinds of youth
and have related them to the issues of globaliza-
tion, modernization, and ethnic identity. Recently
various indigenous communities have also faced
sociocultural changes in their communities such
as established relations with the state and inter-
national capitalism and cooperative economies.3
Overall, currently in Latin America there is a
constant tension between rationalization and sub-
jectification, between change and identity preser-
1 Viveiros de Castro (1987; 35-38) states that at any moment
when a person is receiving a new identity such as when
newly born, in puberty, or dying, the societal body has to
be protected from the energies coming from the outside,
so that the body is not harmed in the process of change
Amazonian people use the body as a distinctive factor and
it is socially made by naming, painting, penetrating, and
the formation of ceremony groups.
2 See Fernandes 1989; da Malta 1976; Hugh-Jones 1979;
Fabian 1992; Lagrou 1997.
3 See Seeger 1980; 148 f.; Oliveira Filho 1999; T. Turner
1993:43.
160
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen
vation, and between the logic of development or
economic expansion and the logic of the culture
(see Garcia Canclini 1995; Ortiz 1998). Neverthe-
less, we know little about the influence of all this
on rituals, and especially ritual practices of the
indigenous youth and their traditional way of life
in the contemporary Amazonia. In this article I in-
vestigate the meaning of traditional ritual practices
for the urban indigenous youth in contemporary
Amazonia applying the concept of social capital
as theoretical tool. The aim is to examine social
capital produced in the ritual practices of Manchin-
ery youth in the city of Rio Branco, in the state of
Acre, the Brazilian Amazon. The Manchinery is
studied little and the urban space4 offers a modem
context for the indigenous studies.
The concept of social capital has been very
popular in social and economic sciences since the
1980s, although it is still very complex and not
clearly defined.5 Social capital has been used to
refer to continuous social relations, norms, con-
fidence, and cooperation that improve the effi-
ciency of economy and realization of individual
objectives. I apply the concept of social capital
in the sense of Pierre Bourdieu, who uses it to
refer to social networks, memberships, friendships,
confidence, honorability, and respectability that
are essential in social life. According to Bourdieu
(1984: 114), similar to other capitals,6 social capi-
tal is a relation, i.e., energy which only exists and
produces its effects in the social field in which it
is produced and reproduced.
Social capital, similar to cultural capital, can
be seen as a part of symbolic capital, a symbolic
strength that Bourdieu usually contrasts to eco-
nomic capital, i.e., material strength. He states that
“symbolic capital ... is perhaps the only possi-
ble form of accumulation when economic capital
is not recognized” (1990; 118). Symbolic capital
refers to reputation for competence, image of re-
spectability, and honorability that are linked with
the moral order. The accumulation of symbolic
capital always requires a slow process of cooption,
4 In Brazil, various urban centers have faced a rapid migra-
tion process of native people. According to the National
Indian Foundation (the Brazilian government organ respon-
sible for Indians; FUNAI 2002), about 30,000 to 50,000 of
the total Brazilian indigenous population that is roughly
370,000 live in urban centers. However, the number is be-
lieved to be much bigger; the urban native population reach-
es approximately 25% of the total indigenous population.
5 The most influential theories on social capital have been
formulated by Pierre Bourdieu, James Coleman, and Robert
Putnam.
6 For Bourdieu the main forms of capital are cultural,
economic, social, and symbolic capital.
initiation, or genealogical position, and can be used
only in the field it is recognized (Bourdieu 2002;
1990: 68). Overall, the place of a social agent in
the social system is determined by one’s available
resources: the volume of capital, its composition,
and the change in these two properties in over time
(Bourdieu 1984: 119).
For Bourdieu (1990: 16, 108) rituals, festivities,
and ceremonies are representations of the natural
and social world, and symbolic capital is repro-
duced and produced in them by establishing and
reestablishing social relations. In the Amerindian
context, the reproduction of social capital in rituals
is essential, as the aim is to increase the physical
and mental strength of the youth in initiation rituals
by a variety of physical tests and tribulations.
My hypothesis is that in the urban space the in-
digenous youth still produce social capital through
traditional ritualistic practices. Firstly, I present
briefly the sociopolitical context of the research,
the Manchinery people, and then the current urban
ritualistic practices and their meaning.
Current Sociopolitical Changes in Acre
During the change from the 19th to the 20th centu-
ry, rubber changed completely the history of Acre
and its indigenous people: it became the home of
rubber tappers. In the end of 1970s, the second big
social change occurred when loggers and ranchers,
supported by the government policies, bought land
from Acre, and indigenous groups and independent
rubber tappers were forced off their lands. Conse'
quently, Indians, rubber tappers, and rural workers
started to claim for their land rights, and formed a
group that was called povos dafloresta. The trade
union leader, Chico Mendes, was one of the lead'
ing persons of this social movement, and in 1988'
when he was assassinated, devastation and viO'
lence in the region finally was given international
attention. The strong social movement in Acre re'
suited in the establishment of various environment
protection and social development projects, ^e
emergence of pro-Indian organizations, and assm
ciations of different indigenous ethnic groups. 1°'
digenous movement organized the first cooperate
economical, educational, and health care project
eV
7 See Lagrou (1997) and McCallum (2001), who have
plained that the traditional girl’s and boy’s initiation
of the Kaxinawa of the Brazilian Amazon is related
making the youth into women and men. The ritual a
represents the worldview in which the embodied sen
opposed to free-floating images and spirits.
Anthropos 101
.2 Od6
The Urban Manchinery Youth and Social Capital in Western Amazonian Contemporary Rituals
161
in indigenous territories. In addition, it should be
remembered that in 1988 after military rule, for
the first time, the new Brazilian constitution of the
state ensured the cultural and political rights of the
indigenous population (Alcida 1998: 19).
In the state of Acre the urbanization process
started at the time of the rubber euphoria and was
followed by migration from rural areas when the
Price of rubber fell. Similar to various Amazonian
cities, the urbanization process has been very fast
until today. In 2001, the population of Acre was
calculated 557,526, of which approximately 70%
lived in urban centers. Temporary and permanent
residencies of indigenous people are still increas-
lng in the urban centers of Acre. According to
the National Indian Foundation (FUNA12002), the
indigenous population of Acre region, which is
constituted by 16 different ethnic groups, num-
bered 13,844 in the indigenous territories in 2002,
Whereas, in the same year, in the urban centers,
ihe indigenous population numbered already 2,249
representing various ethnicities.
For the state’s indigenous groups and people
hving in poor neighborhoods, the election of the
Governor Jorge Viana in 2000 brought a new hope.
has implemented various social projects and the
reconstruction of developmental projects. Various
ahempts have been made to recognize and promote
|he diversity of the region’s ethnic backgrounds.
n 2000 the State Cultural Foundation organized
0r the first time a cultural meeting of indigenous
groups Encontro de Culturas Indigenas do Acre e
do Amazonas, which in 2004 already presented
pearly 20 different ethnicities of the region in two
jriguistic groups: the Pano and the Arawak. At
ae federal level the establishment of the post of
e Secretary of Indigenous Peoples (Secretaria
. °s Povos Indigenas do Acre), which was founded
|n 2°03, shows a new political recognition of the
higenous issues as well as recently founded in-
I\fen°us sectors °f various state offices (SKATER,
,^C, and Cultural Foundation of Acre) respon-
2nn ^0r ^ indigenous population. Moreover, in
n a museum was inaugurated to present the
^ ^1 Population’s way of life in the forest, their
lefs, and traditional practices. In addition, today
. st ethnic groups have founded their own asso-
l0ns in order to defend their rights to receive
n lstance in educational, health, sanitary, and eco-
riici 1Ca^ services- Furthermore, six indigenous can-
ates were elected to local governments in 2004.
Vh
Manchinery People
The Arawakan-speaking Manchinery population
live in the Brazilian Amazon, in the state of Acre.
In 2002, they numbered 671 in the indigenous ter-
ritory (FUNAI 2002), where they carry out agri-
cultural activities, hunting, and breed cattle. Their
main economic activity is selling agricultural prod-
ucts, principally rice and beans in the nearby mu-
nicipalities. In the end of the 19th century, the
Manchinery were forced to work in the rubber
industry and many families lived in the lands
of the farmers and rubber bosses. In 1975 the
Manchinery were granted land situated near the
Peruvian border, where the Manchinery population
live again divided in various villages. Recently,
their traditional way of life has been slowly re-
covering and there are various initiatives for new
cultural projects in the indigenous territory.
In the Manchinery territory the most important
rituals, in which we can see social capital to be
produced, are the ayahuasca ceremony and the
initiation ritual of girls who menstruate for the
first time. The hallucinogen ayahuasca has been
used for centuries in religious and healing rituals
among various peoples of South America.8 Espe-
cially it has been a sacred drink of shamans, who
are experts of native religion and cure illnesses,
and additionally, among Manchinery, it has been
used in collective rituals in order to receive spiri-
tual guidance, protection, and knowledge from the
spirits of the forest. Currently, in the Manchin-
ery territory there are only three persons who are
considered healers and two old women who are
excellent singers of ayahuasca chants.
The girl’s initiation ceremony includes a month’s
separation of the girl in her parents’ house, and is
followed by painting her entire body and a festivity
of the whole community. In fact, the ritual is very
similar to the girl’s initiation ritual among the Piro
in Peru (see Gow 2001). The festivity starts when
the painted girl is brought to the ceremony place,
where she serves cassava beer from a huge bowl
to the oldest person of the community. There are
various behavioral and alimentary restrictions to
be followed, such as during the seclusion the girl
has to stay at home and lie down in a hammock,
and she is to be seen only by an elder woman, who
takes care of her. Some old Manchinery told me
8 Ayahuasca is a liquid made from vine (latin name baniste-
riopsis caapi) and boiled with special leaves. See Weiss
1969; Kamppinen 1989; Reichel-Dolmatoff 1996; Luna
1986; Luz Fernandes 2002 on the Arawakan peoples’ use
of ayahuasca.
lroPos 101.2006
162
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen
that formerly boys, whose voices were breaking,
were also separated and had to be on a strong diet.
Nowadays they are only controlled not to carry
heavy loads. The aim of these initiation rituals was
stated to be the same: to have a long life, health,
resistance, and to be protected from the harmful
forest animals and spirits.
In this article I do not address the meaning
of the initiation ritual in the indigenous territory.
Nevertheless, the girl’s initiation ritual was no
longer practiced systematically due to sociocul-
tural changes. The sociopolitical changes in Acre
have already influenced the social organization in
the indigenous territories and, following, new so-
cial roles have arisen: indigenous teacher, a person
responsible especially for environmental matters,
and a representative of women. This has changed
the meaning of school education, since all these
roles include negotiations with authorities, literacy,
and knowledge of Portuguese. It is of interest that
the significance of traditional knowledge is also
important since it is required in these new social
roles. At the same time, shamans ipajes) have
become increasingly important. They are brought
to cultural meetings for their knowledge of myths,
songs, dances, and healing.
Since the 1980s, various Manchinery families
have migrated to urban centers due to internal con-
flicts and the work of their leader in the indigenous
organization. In 2002, in the city of Rio Branco
the Manchinery population already numbered 146
(a report of UNI),9 being already the third biggest
native group that had migrated to the capital of the
state of Acre. There is an invisible line between the
urban and rural indigenous communities, which on
both sides is stated by their differences of the way
of life, nutrition,10 traditional knowledge, and the
use of language.
Manchinery Urban Youth
The urban Manchinery youth are living in a very
different environment than the Manchinery youth
in the indigenous territory. The young Manchinery
in Rio Branco stated that they had come to the
city due to the moving of their parents, studies,
search for an employment, or other relatives, who
9 According to this report (UNI 2002), in 2002 the three
biggest indigenous groups residing in Rio Branco were
Apurina (597 people), Kaxinawa (395), and Manchinery
(146).
10 On the significance of the food on the social relationships of
Amazonian native peoples see Gow (1991) and McCallum
(1997).
were already living in the city. The majority of the
Manchinery youth were bom in the city or pos-
sess only few memories of life in the indigenous
territory. They stated that to study and to finish
the school are the most important things for them,
whereas the difficulties are to enter the schools,
employment, discrimination, and economical prob-
lems. They lamented that their knowledge of
the Manchinery language and tradition was poor.
However, some urban Manchinery youth were ac-
tively involved in a recently founded movement of
indigenous students that calls for a financial sup-
port and more spaces for indigenous youth in sec-
ondary schools. In addition, the urban Manchinery
youth also participate in so-called youth culture,
especially at schools, that is represented by clothes
such as t-shirts, jeans, and the taste of music.11
The Manchinery girls living in Rio Branco said
that they had not been through the traditional girl’8
initiation ritual because they had moved out from
the village before they could have participated in
it. Practicing this ritual did not even occur to them
in conversations, whereas the practice of tradi-
tional initiation ritual was still meaningful for the
Manchinery community in the indigenous territory
that depends on hunting and agricultural success;
physical strength and gendered roles are a basis
of their livelihood. In contrast, the difficulties of
the contemporary urban indigenous youth are mom
personal and psychological. Similar to various mi'
grants, who belong to two worlds, they have to
concern themselves with the relation between the
tradition and the current place (see Hall 1992 on
modern cultural identity) and have to find then
place in the complex urban social structure. In the
following I will consider the ritualistic practices of
the Manchinery youth in the urban space.
Traditional Ayahuasca Ceremony
in the Urban Space
The only ritual of Manchinery Indians that has
been maintained continuously in an urban space
is a ritual of ayahuasca since it is also practiced 111
the Manchinery territory. Similar to ManchineA
villages, the ayahuasca ceremony usually take8
place in someone’s house. Ritual chanting is.a
central part of the ritual, while everybody is slt^.
ting in a circle on the floor. At the beginning 0
the ceremony, a sacred drink is offered to those
who want to take it, and later the leader of 111
11 Ortiz (1998: 62) has stated that the youth culture is one 0
the most global cultures in Latin America.
Anthropos l0l-2°^
The Urban Manchinery Youth and Social Capital in Western Amazonian Contemporary Rituals
163
ceremony calls the spirit of ayahuasca and of
certain animals and nature to work through the
sacred drink. The spirits of anaconda (jiboia) and
jaguar (onga), which have traditionally a central
role in the Manchinery mythology, are believed to
appear to give their knowledge and protection. The
ayahuasca facilitates taking the animals’ point of
view, which actually see as humans, and to learn
from this metamorphosis.12 One of the changes of
the ayahuasca ceremony is that in the urban space
h is usually not used for physical healing, but for
an individual development, to help in decisions,
and “to learn things” as it was stated by the youth.
The majority of the young urban Manchinery
told me that they had taken ayahuasca for the first
time when they were 12-19 years old, but at that
time they rarely had any visions. The spirits are
believed to appear to and teach only those they
Wanted to, or to give only horrific visions or no
visions at all. Especially girls said that they are
afraid of possible horrific visions or to lose their
^ind during the ayahuasca effects. The youth con-
Slder seeing the animals associated with power and
a symbolic status, anaconda and jaguar, at first as
Very frightening, but then these experiences are re-
garded important and to give a triumphant feeling,
h Was said that ayahuasca helps to see the future,
distant relatives, and generally to have a better
v|sion of the things. In order for ayahuasca to
^1Ve a positive affect, it is recommended to avoid
c°nsuming meat, salt, alcohol, sweets, and having
Sexual intercourse three days before and after tak-
ln§ ayahuasca. The young regarded this physically
aad psychologically difficult, since it was renun-
Clation from various conveniences and required a
sPecial willpower.13 Therefore, ayahuasca has an
^bivalent character: it is fascinating, admired,
and feared.
I observed that young people have taken impor-
nt roles in ayahuasca ceremonies and that espe-
a% young boys have learnt ritual songs in the
^ahye language and really look for the knowledge
new ones. In the city, the leading person of
k e Ceremony is usually a 23 year-old Manchinery
°V> who is even called a shaman. In a way he is an
12 in
the ayahuasca ceremony occurs the same phenomenon
|yhich Viveiros de Castro (1998: 470-472) presented in his
eory of perspectivism, referring to Amazonian ethnogra-
les ln which the humans can take the perspective of
13 Qr|rna^s’ ^ their “clothing,” the corporality is taken.
e shaman of a Manchinery village once lamented to me
the t^6re were n°t longer any powerful shamans, because
^ adolescents consider the shaman training as too difficult,
said that it is still possible to become a shaman, but the
s°n has to leave “everything that was of White man.”
Ahthi
roPos 101.2006
apprentice, since he has learned special ayahuasca
songs from his uncle living in the village. He has
spent time in the village but not in the forest, i.e.,
without seeing anybody as ancient shaman appren-
tices had done. Moreover, in the urban ceremonies
he does not play the role of a shaman to see what
is the reason for an illness and to know what
should be done to cure it, and which medicinal
plants should be used. There are no girls who sing
ayahuasca songs.
The ayahuasca ceremony also offers a place to
listen to ritual chants, which are usually about the
nature spirits, in the Manchinery language and one
can meet other Manchinery families, who usually
live in different suburbs remote from each other.
Even babies and children were present. As the
ceremony is usually held on the occasion of an im-
portant visit from a village, it also gathers together
Manchinery both from the village and the city.
Occasionally Indians from other tribes and even
White people are invited. One of the Manchinery
boys told me that when he took ayahuasca for the
first time, it did not affect him. He said that he
could not see anything, because he had lived like
the White population. But when he began to have
closer relations with his Manchinery cousin, he
started to know more about his culture, learnt some
Manchinery language and ritual songs that now he
regarded very beautiful. “This was an evolution
for me, to get to know ayahuasca that is of our
culture...” Overall, the Manchinery adolescents in
the urban space said that they had had a turning
experience when they started to take ayahuasca or
to participate in these meetings.
I observed that the young people regard aya-
huasca as something truly their own thing, a part
of their culture, and they even mentioned that
ayahuasca should be called kamalampi as it is in
Manchinery language. They stated various times
that the ayahuasca ritual is their religious prac-
tice, and, therefore, they want to continue its use.
Moreover, in the urban space the rules, how the
ayahuasca ceremony should proceed and when to
take ayahuasca, are maintained the same, and the
youth regard them highly. However, even evangel-
ic chants sung in Portuguese were mixed with the
ancient songs in Manchinery language.
Political and Cultural Meetings
In the state of Acre various indigenous political
and cultural meetings, which have increased over
the past years, gather together Indians from the
remote indigenous territories and the city. These
164
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen
meetings allow people to express their own culture
and build up an awareness of the traditions of other
indigenous groups. Therefore, they are of a consid-
erable spiritual significance. They are also politi-
cal manifestations. The biggest cultural meeting is
usually held in Rio Branco on the national day of
Indians on 19 April. These events can be regarded
as modern urban ritualistic behavior, since there
is an alteration to different symbolism and habits
by setting specific times, spaces, and events, and
by marking them with significant symbolic means
and meanings.14
In indigenous political and cultural meetings the
indigenous youth participate in big ritual dances,
use different costumes and objects such as in-
digenous handmade bags, necklaces, and bracelets,
which were usually worn with pride. One very
distinctive marker of the participants is the body
painting of traditional native symbolic designs
with paint made from genipap or urucum tree.
These traditional designs originate usually from
nature and are imitations of the texture of animals
whose powers and protection are attempted to be
obtained. The paintings have also achieved a new
modem form in the urban space since the diversity
of painting traditions can be mixed and new pat-
terns can be used. It is as if it was more important
to represent something indigenous than something
which is specific to their own ethnic origin.
Accumulation of Social Capital
through Tradition
The urban young Manchinery are actively recon-
structing their cultural traditions and they use eth-
nicity as a distinguishing factor. It is as Terence
Turner (1993) pointed out that, when different cul-
tures were seen as objectified systems,15 various
ethnic groups “found” their ethnic roots and used
this as a tool for their own autonomy, which he
calls “contemporary culturalism.” The same has
been noted by Sahlins (1997), who uses the con-
cept of modernization of indigenousness to refer to
various indigenous peoples’ use of their ethnicity
and tradition in order to take the control of their
life and mark their identity.
I suggest that the urban Manchinery youth can
accumulate their social capital in the Bourdieun
sense (1984: 119) through their experiences in at-
tending urban traditional ceremonies due to new
14 See Anttonen (1996) on the sacred as cultural category.
15 Especially in the cultural studies before new discourse in
the postmodern period.
networks, friendships, and the prestigious relations
established at these events. They increase the sense
of community firstly, among their own ethnic
group and secondly, within the indigenous popu-
lation in general as their cultural and ethnic back-
ground unites various ethnic groups. Participating
in cultural gatherings, the urban Manchinery youth
openly manifest themselves to be a part of the
indigenous population and, thus, to be different
from other Brazilians. Rituals allow a link to their
own ethnic community in the city and the remote
indigenous territory, which in everyday life is a
nonexistent community and where the lifestyle is
very different. The experience of belonging to the
community is important to the youth. Entering this
social field is relatively easy as the only require-
ment for admission is to be an Indian. Various
cultural traditions give an experience of different
forms of capital that the other Brazilian youth do
not posses, as the indigenous youth regard them-
selves as a part of their indigenous community
living in their villages.
When the Manchinery youth gather with their
family members in urban ceremonies, they form
an autonomy in which they can leave the respon-
sibilities and roles that are needed in the contem-
porary society and its social system. As Da Mat-
ta (2000: 17), who has studied various rituals it1
Brazilian social systems, states, the liminal phase
in the rituals is an intensive period of isolation and
autonomy of a certain group. He explains that the
liminality has a positive and communal character»
since the experience of individuality and isolation
always ends by returning to society and trans-
forming into a component of a network of social
relationships.16 This explains how social capiti
is produced through close relations in the rituals-
Especially in the nocturnal moments of ayahuasca
ceremonies, liminality is actualized and it offer8
experiences of being out-of-time as well as a sense
of autonomy of the group. After the experiences oi
individuality in the ayahuasca ritual, a person has a
triumphal feeling of “returning” to the Community-
Most of the urban rituals also provide a p05'
sibility of having a relationship with the White
population since they bring people together an
break down social barriers. When in these situa'
tions some interaction between the indigenous an
White Brazilian population occurs, the knowledge
16 Da Malta (2000: 13-19) addresses his view as an opp0^
lion to Arnold Van Gennep (1960), Victor Turner (19° ’
Mary Douglas (1989), who have emphasized the ambigu^s
and the loss of autonomy during the liminality of the ntu
of passage.
Anthropos 101-200
The Urban Manchinery Youth and Social Capital in Western Amazonian Contemporary Rituals
165
of nature, cultural tradition, customs, stories, be-
liefs, and the history of the ethnic group may result
in being accepted and treated in a positive way.
Additionally, even new confidence can be created
with white persons, especially in the ayahuasca
ceremonies that can gather together a very hetero-
geneous group of participants: members of one’s
own family, people from other indigenous groups,
and White people. Moreover, the cultural and po-
litical events as well as the ayahuasca ceremonies
are a forum for the indigenous adolescents to learn
traditional knowledge that they can use as a special
cultural capital. In this context it is different from
the so-called scientific knowledge provided by the
state education.
The cultural capital such as traditional expertise
can be converted into social capital, because it
Promotes new social networks within their own
ethnic group, in the city and villages, alongside
^ith the Brazilian population, which has recently
started to value native knowledge such as natural
Medicine. Furthermore, those White persons, who
are usually respected by the indigenous population,
have been pioneers in contributing to the under-
standing and appreciation of indigenous traditions,
tt^sic, iconography, mythologies, and they are
n°w participating in ayahuasca ceremonies. They
are government officers or representatives of non-
governmental organizations, who usually belong to
the middle class or already have a high social sta-
tUs- Therefore, friendship and mutual respect with
^hern offer a symbolic capital for the indigenous
P°Pulation.
treating a New Habitus
Nevertheless, during my fieldwork I saw that the
Urban youths, who were leaving cultural meetings
^ ayahuasca ceremonies, preferred to take off the
Ejects that could identify them as Indians such
^ the traditional woollen headdress. It was as if
e cultural event was marked as a space with its
wn symbolism. Furthermore, such behavior, the
^idance of being perceived as an Indian, in the
ohc social space exists due to discrimination,
ttich is still present in the city according to the
tfih. Overall, I suggest that in modern time the
e an native youths operate in a number of differ-
social fields such as youth cultures, their own
me group, ethnopolitical movements, and the
UP of people interested in indigenous traditions,
(jj lch all have their different habitus. In Bour-
s-.u s social theory “habitus” is a set of dispo-
°ns and internalized possibilities, which enable
Vh
roPos 101.2006
a person to orientate himself in social situations.17
In my research this explains well the indigenous
youths’ ability to move from one social group to
another. They recognize their possibilities in dif-
ferent social situations and know which capital is
recognized and where the youths can use their so-
cial capital. Some social groups such as one’s own
ethnic group, other indigenous groups (especially
ethnopolitical movements), and the group of peo-
ple interested in indigenous traditions, especially
in shamanism, can be identified as social spaces
that benefit from having an indigenous habitus.
As mentioned above, indigenous youth have
various habitus that can be referred to as particular
habitus. Roos and Rotkirch (2003), who have de-
veloped Bourdieu’s distinction of a particular and
general habitus, argue that a general habitus has an
independent autonomous status and is a generative
principle of practices, whereas a particular habitus
presents several layered habitus from every specif-
ic field. In this view, the indigenous youth’s gen-
eral habitus appears to be the indigenous habitus
that in modem time can be taken and presented in
a new way. This indigenous habitus uses symbolic,
social, and cultural capital in the fields recognized,
as economic capital can be low due to the low
income rates of indigenous people, who usually
have difficulties in integrating themselves into the
job markets of the urban centers.
New indigenous habitus in the urban space in
contemporary Acre has emerged due to sociopo-
litical changes that have positioned the indigenous
people in a new light in the social system. The
changed power relations between the White and
the indigenous population have improved the posi-
tion of indigenous people and promoted their sym-
bolic social capital, which is seen in the political
acknowledgement of the indigenous population at
the state level as well as in the recent recognition
of the difficulties of the povos da floresta (rubber
tappers, indigenous and rural communities) during
the long rubber production history of Acre. This
has been done to improve the cohesion of the
state’s population and was due to the knowledge
of the indigenous population of environmental and
natural medical issues. Consequently, there has
been a construction of new social identities and
17 Regarding habitus, Bourdieu (1990: 92) explains that social
actors do not act by a conscious reflexion of actions, logical
control, but with a reason: they do or do not have an
interest for acting in a certain way. Bourdieu follows in
the footsteps of Marcel Mauss, and Bourdieu’s objective
is to find an alternative to Sartre’s subjectivism and the
objectivism of Claude Lévi-Strauss.
166
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen
social actors such as indigenous officers. The in-
digenous youth benefits from this new possibility
by using its logic of practice and by represent-
ing an indigenous habitus in some social fields.
For instance they have learned to use ethnicity
as a distinguishing marker that could facilitate
the opening of spaces in school and job markets.
Moreover, the opportunities to have employment
in indigenous organizations or the projects of the
government for indigenous peoples that have ap-
peared in recent years, are highly valued among
the indigenous youth, since these are often the only
significant forms of employment. Thus there is a
chance of obtaining a better economical income.
The increased negotiations between authorities and
indigenous people have also changed. Of special
importance are the young educated urban Indians
who usually have a better education and knowl-
edge of Portuguese. Their advantage is also good
social connections with White people and other
indigenous groups.
The symbolic social capital of the indigenous
youth has to be re-produced and produced in so-
cial relations with indigenous groups, especially
in one’s own ethnic group and ritualistic practices
in which the social relationships are established.
Otherwise their indigenousness would not be rec-
ognized, at least not among the youth’s own ethnic
group in the indigenous territory who rarely any
longer regard the urban indigenous population as
Indians. The urban rituals are a public and con-
trolled set of practices that have a leader, their
own symbolism, styles of dress, bodily practices,
conduct of honor, obedience to rules, and thus they
occur to be a place to accumulate symbolic social
capital. These ritual practices originate their form
from the indigenous tradition.
Conclusion
The traditional practices in the urban space can in-
crease the social inclusion of the native population
and help to build a sense of community. The urban
Manchinery youth learn to maintain a relation with
their tradition and ethnic group living in the city
and in indigenous territories through the ayahuasca
ceremony, which has persisted in an urban space
and indigenous political and cultural meetings that
have appeared as modem urban rituals. In addition,
most urban rituals create the relations of respect
between indigenous and White population. This
social capital can be used more broadly than in the
traditional contexts. These ritual actions transform
the youth into independent thinking social units
and provide an important psychological support
for their development and identity formation of
the indigenous youth.
The difficulties that the urban native youth has
today in living between two different cultures have
prompted them to elaborate their own methods and
an approach to ritual practices and tradition in
the urban space. Some youths do not assimilate
themselves in the poor neighbourhoods’ migrant
population but create their own social space. In this
view, the indigenous adolescents are not an object
of tradition formatting them into a new age-group
and social category, but they are active social
agents and take various responsibilities due to
their symbolic social and cultural capital based on
their traditions. These capitals are maintained and
produced in the urban rituals, whereas the other
forms of cultural capital such as the knowledge of
Portuguese and some qualifications are produced
in the state education system.
The material on the urban indigenous youth
suggests that even if the dwelling places of native
youths are different from the traditional context
of their ethnic group, traditional practices are still
the place to accumulate social capital in the urban
space. The main reason for this is the sociopolitical
change in indigenous matters, especially at the
local level, but also at the national and interna-
tional levels. Therefore, the indigenous population
has started to establish its new place in the social
structure where it can produce its own capital. If
general, the urban rituals are still a place to main'
tain and produce social capital, and consequently
to renew and transform a new indigenous habitus-
I am grateful to the Cultural Foundation of Finland and
Finnish Konkordia Organization for receiving a gran1
for my Ph. D. thesis work.
References Cited
Alcida Ramos, Rita
1998 Indigenism. Ethnic Politics in Brazil. London: The
University of Wisconsin Press.
Anttonen, Veikko „
1996 Rethinking the Sacred. The Notions of “Human Body
and “Territory” in Conceptualizing Religion. In: T-X
Idinopulos and E. A. Yonan (eds.). The Sacred and U®
Scholars. Comparative Methodologies for the Study ^
Primary Religious Data; pp. 36-64. Leiden: E. J- ^rl
Bourdieu, Pierre c
1984 Distinction. A Social Critique of the Judgement 0
Taste. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
1990 The Logic of Practice. Cambridge: Polity Press.
2002 Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge: Cambrì %
University Press. [1977]
Anthropos 101-200
The Urban Manchinery Youth and Social Capital in Western Amazonian Contemporary Rituals
167
Da Matta, Roberto
1976 Um mundo dividido. A estrutura social dos indios Api-
nayé. Petrópolis; Empresa Vozes.
2000 Individualidade e liminaridade. Consideragoes sobre os
ritos de passagem e a modemidade. Mana. Estados de
Antropología Social 6/1: 7-29.
Douglas, Mary
1989 Purity and Danger. An Analysis of the Concepts of
Pollution and Taboo. London: Ark Paperbacks. [1966]
Fabian, Stephen Michael
1992 Space-Time of the Bororo of Brazil. Gainesville: Uni-
versity Press of Florida.
Fernandes, Florestan
1989 A organizagao social dos Tupinambä. Sao Paulo; Edigäo
Hucitec. [1948]
F,JNAI (Fundagdo Nacional do Indio)
2002 Report of National Indian Foundation - Relatorio de
populagoes indigenas - DEDOC - Servigo de infor-
magao indigena. Brasilia; National Indian Foundation.
[Unpublished Report]
Garcia Canclini, Nestor
1995 Hybrid Cultures. Strategies for Entering and Leaving
Modernity. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Flow, Peter
^91 Of Mixed Blood. Kinship and History in Peruvian
Amazonia. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
®0l An Amazonian Myth and Its History. Oxford; Oxford
University Press.
Stuart
992 The Questions of Cultural Identity. In: S. Hall, D.
Held, and T. McGrew (eds.), Modernity and Its Futures;
pp. 273-325. Cambridge: Polity Press.
] U§h-Jones, Stephen
'9 The Palm and the Pleiades. Initiation and Cosmology
in Northwest Amazonia. Cambridge; Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
Ln^PPinen, Matti
9 Cognitive Systems and Cultural Models of Illness.
A Study of Two Mestizo Peasant Communities of
the Peruvian Amazon. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum
Fennica. (FF Communications, 244)
19*9 r°U’ Flsje Maria
Caminhos, duplos e corpos. Uma abordagem perspecta-
vista da identidade e alterdidade entre os Kaxinawa. Sao
Paulo: University of Sao Paulo. [Ph. D. Dissertation]
l^Sf3’ ^U*s Eduardo
Vegetalismo. Shamanism among the Mestizo Population
°f the Peruvian Amazon. Stockholm: Almqvist and
Wiksell.
2q(p^ernandes, Pedro
M,
D uso amerindio do caapi. In; B. Caiuby Labate and
'A- Sena Araujo (orgs.), O uso ritual da ayahuasca.
Campinas: Mercado de Letras.
l9g*SeC Doreen, and Pat Jess
Places and Cultures in an Even World. In: D. Massey
aud P. jess (eds.), A Place in the World? Places,
Cultures, and Globalization. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
McCallum, Cecilia
1997 Eating with Txai, Eating like Txai. The Sexualization
of Ethnic Relations in Contemporary Amazonia. Revista
de Antropología 40/1: 109-147.
2001 Gender and Sociality in Amazonia. How Real People
Are Made. Oxford; Berg.
Oliveira Filho, Joao Pacheco de
1999 Ensaios em antropología histórica. Rio de Janeiro: Uni-
versidade Federal de Rio de Janeiro.
Ortiz, Renato
1998 Outro territorio. Ensaios sobre el mundo contemporá-
neo. Bogota: Convenio Andres Bello.
Reichel-Dolmatoff, Gerardo
1996 The Forest within. The Worldview of the Tukano
Amazonian Indians. Totnes: Themis Books.
Roos, J. P., and Anna Rotkirch
2003 Habituksen paluu? Part 2. Tieteessa tapahtuu (Helsinki)
2; 33-37.
Sahlins, Marshall
1997 O “pessimismo sentimental” e a experiencia etnográfica.
Por que a cultura nao é um via de extingáo. Mana.
Estados de Antropología Social 3/2: 103-150.
Seeger, Anthony
1980 Os indios e nós. Estudos sobre sociedades tribais brasi-
leras. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Campus.
Turner, Terence
1993 De cosmología a historia. Resistencia, adaptagáo e con-
sciencia social entre os kayapó. In: E. Viveiros de Castro
e M. Carneiro da Cunha (orgs.), Amazonia. Etnología e
historia indígena; pp. 43-66. Sao Paulo: NHII - USP;
FAPESP.
Türner, Victor
1982 Ritual Process. New York: Cornell University Press.
[1969]
UNI (Unido das Nagoes Indígenas)
2002 Relatório de populagáo indígena em Rio Branco. Grupo
de mulheres indígenas do Acre e Sul do Amazonas
- GMI. Rio Branco: Union of Indigenous Nations.
[Unpublished Report]
Van Gennep, Arnold
1960 The Rites of Passage. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press. [1909]
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo
1987 A fabricagáo do corpo na sociedade xinguana. In: J. P.
de Oliveira Filho (org.), Sociedades indígenas e indi-
genismo no Brasil; pp. 31-41. Rio de Janeiro: Marco
Zero.
1998 Cosmological Deixis and Amerindian Perspectivism.
The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 4:
469-488.
Weiss, Gerald
1969 The Cosmology of the Campa Indians of Eastern Peru.
Ann Arbor: University Microfilms International.
Wulff, Helena
1995 Introducing Youth Culture in Its Own Right. The State
of the Art and New Possibilities. In: V. Amit-Talai
and H. Wulff (eds.), Youth Cultures. A Cross-Cultural
Perspective; pp. 1-18. London: Routledge.
Anth
lr°pos 101.2006
Mûa
dimension to
vow
sociology
research...
sociological
abstracts
Comprehensive, cost-effective, timely coverage of current ideas
in sociological research
Abstracts of articles, books, and
conference papers from nearly 2,000
journals published in 35 countries;
citations of relevant dissertations as
well as books and other media.
Now featuring:
• Cited references
•Additional abstracts
covering 1963-1972
Available in print or electronically through CSA Illumina
(www.csa.com).
Contact sales@csa.com for trial Internet access or a sample
issue.
ILLUMINA
www.csa.com
Anthropos
101.2006: 169-178
A Religiosidade popular na cultura caiçara
A Festa do Divino Espirito Santo em Iguape
José Luiz Izidoro
Abstract. - Religious festivals are very important in people’s
1Ves- In their various forms, over time they can bring a bout a
real, overall harmony between everyday life and faith. In a very
SPecial way, these are religious festivals which have their roots
ln human nature and culture. Both in the ordinary and special
Slgns of everyday solidarity, which characterize these festivals,
People have an experience of the unconditional mercy of God.
in 6 ce*ebrat'on of the Feast of the Holy Spirit, as described
this article, is from the town of Iguape (Brazil) in the
nter of caigara culture. The festival is replete with symbolic
binders which support and improve the life, the solidarity,
i lhe harmony of ordinary people in their geographic and
f 7/,Ura' un’verse- [Brazil, caigara culture, solidarity, religious
festivals, symbols]
pj°s® Luiz Izidoro, mestre em Ciencias da Religiao pela
'I'versidade Metodista de Sao Paulo; licenciado em Filosofia
e p LNIFAI (Sao Paulo). - Por oito anos atua na area de Biblia
Cq ultLlras no Equador e a nivel de America latina e Caribe,
•nterrupgoes para os estudos superiores.
^trodu^ao
^nvencido de que as grandes festas religio-
c exPressam a um só tempo, urna espécie de
. ratemiza9ào de classes e urna tensào inter-
no p ’ buscaremos entender a Festa do Divi-
ni a Santo a partir das relaces em que
Pul 86 lnsere como manifestado religiosa e po-
Sa r’ resgatando também sua dimensáo religio-
vár^r°Pr*amente ^ta‘ Assim iremos detectar os
el0 l0s elementos de solidariedade que váo surgía-
se0 decorrer das festividades do Divino Espirito
No Brasil, mesclam-se os elementos culturáis
ñas festividades de expressáo religiosa: elemen-
tos indígenas, imemorialmente aqui arraigados,
elementos da cultura afro, oriundos de diversos
países africanos, elementos da cultura européia,
particularmente destacando aqui a cultura lusa e
imigrantes europeus. Nesse contexto mais am-
pio, tentaremos localizar a cidade de Iguape,1 a
partir da cultura cacara,2 resgatando assim urna
das mais helas festas religiosas realizada pelos
seus habitantes. Trata-se da “Festa do Divino
Espirito Santo”. Ela está permeada de elemen-
tos que estimulam a vivencia, a solidariedade e
a harmonia do povo simples em seu universo
1 Etimología de “Iguape” (urna das possíveis leituras = Tupi):
yga + pe - água redonda (bacía hidrográfica), acrescida
da vogal o/u (grafía de vários autores estrangeiros) =
ygoape/yguape\ hoje iguape (Collaço 1989: 13 s.). A cidade
de Iguape está situada no litoral sul do Estado de Sao Paulo,
dista 79 quilómetros de Cananéia, 132 de Itanhaém, 250 de
Santos, 46 de Pariquera-Açu, 82 de Registro e 240 de Sao
Paulo. Iguape possui très barras marítimas: Icapara, Barra
da Ribeira, Rio do Yuna do Prelado.
2 “Habitantes do litoral norte e sul do Estado de Sao Paulo,
onde se entrelaçam os elementos culturáis dos povos ne-
gros, indígenas e colonos portugueses oriundos de Portugal
nos inicios da colonizaçâo”. As fontes de sobrevivéncia
estao bascadas na pesca e pequeña agricultura, e se vive
em urna harmoniosa relaçâo com o meio ambiente. Pela
herança cultural recebida dos antepassados, hoje reafirma-
mos a releváncia que constituí a “cultura caiçara” a partir da
nossa pratica cotidiana do trabalho (pesca, agricultura), dos
valores culturáis que se expressam na música, na dança,
nas manifestaçôes religiosas e populares, das tradiçôes e
mistérios (Izidoro 1996: 17 s.).
170
José Luiz Izidoro
geográfico-cultural. Sao “representares e práticas
religiosas desenvolvidas pelo imaginário popular a
partir dos símbolos religiosos introduzidos no Bra-
sil pelos missionários e colonos portugueses, e aos
quais se juntaram símbolos religiosos indígenas e
africanos” (Oliveira 1985: 122 s.; Festa do Divino
Espirito Santo).
1 Breve contextualizacño eclesiástica
e religiosa da festa
Todos os períodos de mudabas no cenário do Bra-
sil exigiram novas estratégias para a sobrevivencia
dos grupos sociais e das instituyes. Do período
colonial ao período republicano, muitas variantes
ocorreram no interior das instituyes e na vida do
povo. Na perspectiva de assegurar o controle das
camadas populares, a oligarquía sempre buscou na
Insti tuyo Religiosa (Igreja Católica) um ponto de
apoio e sustenta9ao ideológica.
Para a burguesía agrària nào bastava destituir
o camponés de suas térras. Era preciso criar
“interesses” para ele na venda de sua máo-de-obra,
fazé-lo aceitar ser trabalhador “voluntariamente”
assalariado.
“A romanizagao do catolicismo brasileiro, após
o Vaticano I, foi um processo bem sucedido
históricamente porque correspondeu à necessi-
dade social de reestruturar o aparelho religioso
católico, tornando-o apto a exercer urna nova
fun9áo social de hegemonía: a) Intencionalidade
dos atores sociais (purificar o catolicismo brasilei-
ro e conformá-lo ao modelo romano); b) Raciona-
lidade nao intencional (fun9áo social de hegemonía
que responda ao momento social)” (Oliveira 1985:
294-296).
Mais urna vez a Igreja Católica se firma ás
sombras das grandes oligarquías do capitalismo
agràrio. Pois entre a “burguesía agrària” e os
“pobres camponeses e operarios”, a Igreja Católica
mostrava preferencia institucional pelos primeiros.
Com a “Constituyo Brasileira de 1934” seu lugar
na sociedade civil é reconhecido pelo Estado. Com
a “Carta Pastoral Coletiva de 1916” (funcionou
como Constituyo Eclesiástica e Guia Pastoral da
Igreja Católica) eia se fortalece como detentora
das verdades sagradas, administradora da fé crista
e contrària a toda forma de manifesta9áo religiosa
que fugisse do controle de seus agentes especia-
listas (o clero). “Os antigos santos de devo9áo
popular váo sendo substituidos por outros cujo
culto favorece a pràtica dos sacramentos e urna
subordina9áo maior à hierarquia eclesiástica” (Oli-
veira 1985: 286).
E isto perdurará até o Concñio Vaticano II,
quando a Igreja se renovará a partir das exigéncias
que se estabelecem no novo panorama social,
político, económico e religioso do Brasil.
2 A Festa do Divino Espirito Santo
Em Iguape sao muitas as festividades de expressao
religiosa dentro do Catolicismo Popular. “A Festa
de Sao Benedito”3, antigamente se realizava no
dia 26 de Dezembro. Para comemorar o milagroso
de cor negra, Iguape fazia urna semana de festa,
na singela igreja do santo. A igreja de Sao Bene-
dito, construida no séc. XIX, em estilo barroco,
conserva-se até hoje do modo como foi feita. “A
Festa de Sao Joáo Baptista”4, em urna das primei-
ras igrejas construida em Iguape (ca. 1870), e que
se festeja até os dias de hoje no més de Junho. “As
Festas Praieiras”5 6; duas festas religiosas ñas praias
de Icapara e de Juréia, ambas em louvor à Nossa
Senhora. Na praia de Icapara a festa era no dia 15
de Agosto; em Juréia, um més depois: dia 15 de
Setembro. Quase todo iguapense gostava de ir a
Juréia, pois foi ali por perto, segundo a lenda, que
aportou a imagem do Bom Jesus de Iguape. Em
Juréia havia urna capela de Nossa Senhora de Gua-
dalupe, construida em 1770, hoje demolida. “A
Festa da SS. Trindade”: (més de Maio ou Junho)-
A tradicional “Festa do Bom Jesus de Iguape" :
vem desde 1647, e tornou-se urna das festas mais
importante nao só do litoral sul como do Estado de
Sáo Paulo. Tomou-se urna grande festa de romaria,
à quai acorrem pessoas oriundas de muitos cantos
do país.
Consideremos a “Festa do Divino Espirito Sam
to”: forte manifesta9áo de religiosidade popular»
sempre realizada no dia de Pentecostés. E um3
festa que até a década de 60 e 70 do século pas'
sado representava a maior manifesta9áo de fé das
camadas populares de Iguape e regiáo. Aínda hoje»
sua lembran9a nostálgica traz ao povo iguapense 3
memoria de um tempo feliz. A solidariedade, em
seu elemento primordial, era a grande catalizado!3
dos ánimos e da alegría de viver. E é no espaÇ0
cultural e sócio-eclesial acima mencionado que sd
desenvolve essa rica e tradicional festa.
Sempre imbuidas de fé e com um profu*1'
do espirito de solidariedade, a Festa do Divio0
Espirito Santo era urna “força viva” no catolicism0
3 Centro Cultural de Iguape4, Tribuna 1993.
4 Centro Cultural de Iguape; Tribuna 1993.
5 Centro Cultural de Iguape; Tribuna 1992.
6 Centro Cultural de Iguape; Tribuna 1992.
Anthropos 101-200
A Religiosidade popular na cultura cacara
171
popular em tensáo com a igreja oficial. A tensáo
fiue antes se dava no interior das rendes de poder
da Religiáo oficial com a Religiáo popular, a partir
do Concilio Vaticano II assume outra feiíjáo, devi-
do ao autoritarismo do “Corpo especializado” que
se dá a partir das renovagoes conciliares. Assim,
tnuitos valores intrínsecos ao catolicismo popular
foram substituidos abruptamente por valores, teo-
lógicamente válidos, mas alheios as prioridades do
Povo. “Mesmo quem nao reconhe9a este caráter
da invocagáo ou da oragáo populares, deve ao
frenos preocupar-se em nao as substituir por outra
coisa, mais moderna talvez, mas que nao assente
na solidez do sentimento popular. Sob pena de Ihe
firar toda a expressáo e com o risco de substituí-las
P°r nada” (Clemente 1978: 7). É certo que boje
houve urna evolu^áo na caminhada da Igreja, com
Progresso a nivel interpretativo e também vivencial
das renova9oes pós-conciliares.
^•1 Origens da Festa do Divino
^ partir da contribuyo das pessoas entrevista-
os7 para este trabalho, iremos constatando a ri-
Oeza que se constituía a Festa do Divino Espirito
Oto em Iguape e ao mesmo tempo a tensáo que
tudo isso provocava na ordem dita “oficial” das
lnstituÍ96es vigentes.
Afirma-se, com razáo, que as raízes das festas
o Divino Espirito Santo estáo em Portugal. Esse
ato é afirmado por um dos entrevistados para
^ste trabalho (Dezembro de 1994). Seu nome é
r- José Rosa, iguapense de aproximadamente 85
an°s de idade. Trabalhava como funcionário da
asflica de Iguape há aproximadamente 60 anos.
a visáo acerca da Festa do Divino Espirito Santo
/te efetivamente do interior do espa90 clerical da
ade de Iguape. Ele dizia que, pelos símbolos
p r°a, cetro, etc.) se explicara as origens das
estas do Divino Espirito Santo. Tudo veio de
Portugal.
aje^e§tindo o Pe. Guilherme Saake, etnólogo
nQ 11130 e membro da Congrega9áo do Verbo Divi-
§ ’ a 0rigem das solenidades em honra do Espirito
j ato é tribuida aos tempos da Santa Rainha
a°el de Portugal (ano: 1271-1336).
do p Ím narra Saake (1958: 30~36): “Izabel, filha
Cor^e* D- Pedro III de Aragáo, pelo casamento
0 rei D. Diniz tornou-se rainha de Portugal.
Alfredo Izidoro, 65 anos; Benedita María Izidoro, 65 anos;
p ® Rosa, 85 anos; Francisco (Chico) Pereira, 65 anos;
j’rederico Valério, 62 anos. As entrevistas se deram de
üezembro de 1994 a Janeiro de 1995 na cidade de Iguape.
Anth;
roP°s 101.2006
A fim de alcafar paz e unidade para sua térra e
sua familia consagrou Portugal ao Espirito Santo
e ofereceu-lhe a coroa. Izabel doou como precioso
ex-voto sua coroa á igreja. Ordenou, outrossim, se
realizassem anualmente festividades semelhantes,
como expressáo de gratidáo e de urna especial
venera9áo de Portugal para o Espirito Santo”.
Essas versees, sem dúvida, partera do ponto de
vista histórico. Entretanto, existem outras versees
radicadas na vivencia cultural popular, na fé po-
pular daqueles que viveram e, todavia vivem a
experiencia do “Pentecostés” como um momento
forte da vida religiosa e cristá do próprio povo. E
o caso do Sr. Francisco (Chico) Pereira, a segunda
pessoa entrevistada para este trabalho (Dezembro
de 1994). Ele é iguapense, nascido no Peroupava
(sitio), aproximadamente 66 anos de idade; que
logo depois de urna promessa que fizera á Sáo Se-
bastiáo (alcan9ando o milagre) iniciou suas ativi-
dades religiosas. Ele unia vários papéis religiosos
na sua fun9áo de “Agente Popular Religioso”; era
foliáo das folias do Divino Espirito Santo e de
outras festas do Catolicismo popular, era capeláo
e também benzedor. Sua visáo acerca da Festa
do Divino Espirito Santo parte efetivamente do
interior do espa9o religioso popular nos sitios de
Iguape.
Assim comentava o Sr. Chico Pereira: “‘Ban-
deira do Espirito Santo’: Quem foi que criou a
Bandeira do Espirito Santo, naqueles tempos? ‘Foi
o Mestre’, o ‘Divino Mestre’”.
E segue: “Naquele tempo o povo era hipócrita.
Ninguém acreditava que o Espirito Santo existia.
Mas existia o povo bom e humilde, e o Mestre
sabia. Entáo o Mestre sabia disto, e criou, de-
senhou a Bandeira do Espirito Santo. E saiu dar
urna volta, ele com Sáo Go^alo (era colega dele
- Sáo Con9alo cantava), e o Mestre segurava a
Bandeira. Andaram e as pessoas ficavam alegres
e contentes naquele tempo. Entáo chegavam: as
pessoas chegavam e olhavam no paño (Bandeira):
‘Mestre, é esse o Espirito Santo do Céu’? ‘... E
esse ai, o formato dele é esse ai, a fotografía dele
é essa ai - lá no Reino do Pai (naquele tempo)’.
Se foi por ai que se criou a Bandeira do Espirito
Santo; o povo foi se convertendo e aprendendo.
Daquele ficou pra nossa data. Quem criou a pri-
meira Bandeira foi entáo o Mestre. Ele desenhou
o formato do Divino Espirito Santo; até que um
dia o Espirito Santo apareceu no espa90, e todo
mundo viu, e ai ficaram crendo que era ‘Aquele
mesmo ...’. E essa data que ficou pra ser o dia
da festa do Divino Espirito Santo. Confirma9áo
daquela benfeitoria que o Mestre fez - ‘O céu e a
Terra resplandeced”.
172
José Luiz Izidoro
2.2 A Folia na Festa do Divino
A Festa do Divino Espirito Santo era profunda-
mente marcada pela folia. Em Iguape, geralmente
o sitio era o espado onde a folia efetivamente
alcan9ava seu objetivo.
Veremos o que nos diz Carlos Brandáo (1985:
139 s.) a respeito das folias:
Cantos e da^as dentro do templo procedem do Cris-
tianismo Primitivo. Heranga judaica e heranqa paga
... [Assim dizia Harvey Cox:] ‘Os cristáos costuma-
vam dan§ar bastante nos primeiros anos da Igreja ...
Dan9avam ñas festas dos santos e nos cemitérios junto
aos túmulos dos mártires. Homens e mulheres, criabas
dan9avam diante do Senhor, e uns com os outros’.
Cultos de cantos, dan9a e alegría invadem os ritos
da fé. O corpo quer salvar a alma de ser táo sagrada
que esquece de ser humana. A hierarquia religiosa, que
aos poucos se separa da massa dos fiéis comuns, cedo
também come9a a estabelecer as regras do controle do
culto legítimo.
De Sao Basilio Magno (séc. IV) ao Concilio
de Wurzburg (séc. XII) as variadas formas de
dantas que se executavam dentro e nos adros
das Igrejas váo se constituindo oficialmente como
“grave pecado”.
“Expulsos dai [danesas, cantos, alegría], váo pa-
ra as pratjas, as mas, os vales distantes nos mundos
dos camponeses”; que de novo, através dos mis-
sionários jesuítas (interesse da empresa conversio-
nista) voltam a fazer parte das festas dentro das
Igrejas e das procissóes. Indios, brancos, negros
escravos cantam, representam e dan^am. E assim
a folia penetrou no Brasil Colonia, “como urna
danga de fundo religioso, mais urna manifestado
paralitúrgica que profana” (Brandáo 1985: 141,
144).
A Festa do Divino Espirito Santo tomou-se urna
festa típica de cidades pequeñas do interior e do
litoral do país. Vivida no tempo do Pentecostés,
sua realiza9áo varia, dependendo do lugar, de Maio
a Junho de cada ano. Outrora essa festa era o
auge do calendàrio religioso popular. Perdura até
os dias de boje em muitos cantos do país, assim
corno em algumas cidades do Vale do Ribeira
corno Cananéia, ou mesmo continua acontecendo
nas cidades sob influencia do clero.
Para o nosso povo iguapense calcara, nas pa-
lavras dos entrevistados Sr. José Rosa, Sr. Chico
Pereira, Benedita Maria Izidoro e Alfredo Izidoro,
a folia era um dos elementos essenciais das Festas
do Divino Espirito Santo. Quase todos coincidem
em enfatizar o caráter profundamente religioso da
folia. Dois eram os objetivos da folia; a) Arrecadar
prendas para os dias da Festa (leilôes); b) através
dos versos cantados, das oraçôes do terço, da Ban-
deira do Divino e da solidariedade das familias
e da equipe da folia, levar a mensagem de boa
nova, salvar a casa, reatar os laços de amizades e
fraternidade entre as famñias do sitio. Nas palavras
do Sr. Chico Pereira: “Urna missâo de oraçâo ao
Divino, que se constitui como urna missâo que a
gente anda fazendo com aquelas pessoas”.
Alguns entrevistados também coincidem na se-
guinte afirmaçâo: “Essas festas foram acabadas
pelas máos dos padres”, porque a Bandeira passou
a ter como autoridade máxima o padre. “E o padre
tirou o direito da Bandeira do Divino no sitio”. E
isto se justificava com as seguintes versoes: “Que
as prendas arrecadadas no sitio náo eram colocadas
inteiramente nas máos dos responsáveis das festas
(cidade); que havia excesso de bebidas alcoólicas
no conjunto da folia e que havia adultèrio e abusos
de homens e mulheres e que resulta em imorali'
dade ás festividades do Divino Espirito Santo”.
Assim já em urna Carta Pastoral datada de
02/03/1854; “... Observamos a imoralidade que
resulta do que se chama Folia, ou de como se
servem os folioes da Bandeira do Espirito Santo,
para especular seus intéresses; é um verdadero
modo de vida é mesmo de furto. O maior mal
é que très ou quatro meninos que bem podiatn
aplicar-se a algum oficio, ou dar-se ao trabalho
da roça, vivem anos seguidos, enquanto tem voz,
nesta vida de ociosidade, aprendendo vicios, e
tomando-se inimigos do trabalho. Aconselha-se a
fazer recolhimento de dinheiro entre alguns e faze1
festa, se náo houver dinheiro que rezem e façau1
festa simples” (Livra do Tombo 1857-1903/2: 6)-
Por meio de algumas testemunhas, observamos
que críticas como essas voltaram a fazer parte
cenário social e religioso de Iguape, nos anos 69
e 70, quando as folias do Divino Espirito Santo
nos sitios foram interrompidas por ordem do clet°
local, justificadas com as mesmas retóricas. Talve2
houvesse da parte do clero preocupaçôes mota15
em detectar alguma desordem na organizaçào ds
folias da Festa do Divino Espirito Santo, poten1
náo se justifica a proibiçâo. “Todo este aspect0
da religiosidade popular tem sido mais ou meno5
criticado. Estas críticas sáo fundamentadas. MaS
náo chegam para por de lado, sem mais, essas
manifestaçôes. Quantas vezes tais práticas sáo uma
reaçâo contra urna espiritualidade racionalizad*
um culto abstrato que as pessoas simples náo cotn
preendem e que as leva a apegarem-se a fórrnm
antigas e habituais?” (Clemente 1978: 7). Mmta^
críticas eram desprovidas de qualquer conhecime
to da cultura e dos elementos que se assinalava
Anthropos I0l-2°a
A Religiosidade popular na cultura calcara
173
como positivos nos fortes momentos de vida e de
solidariedade da folia do Divino Espirito Santo.
“E unanimente atribuido a pressóes dos agentes
eclesiásticos o quase desaparecimento da Folia do
Espirito Santo” (Brandáo 1985; 173).
3 Estrutura organizativa e cenários da Festa
do Divino
^•1 Na Cidade
Era no setor urbano da cidade de Iguape onde se
dava o processo de organizagáo da Festa do Divino
Espirito Santo. Eram o padre e a elite da cidade
Sue se colocavam como sujeitos ativos em todo o
Processo de organiza9áo das festividades. O padre,
través do código religioso, exercia controle sobre
todas as atividades paralitúrgicas, enquanto seus
agentes colaboradores, oriundos da elite da cidade,
afirrnavam, á sombra da Basílica de Iguape, seu
Prestigio e posÍ9áo social de “benfeitores” do povo
toáis pobre.
A cultura hegemonica, mantida pelo aparato
toligioso, a servio da elite magnata de Iguape, na
Sonancia de seus interesses, procurou manter sob
Seus pés um povo que sempre mostrou conhecer,
a Partir de suas expressoes religiosas e culturáis, o
verdadeiro sentido do existir e da vida social.
Narra-nos o iguapense Paulo Avelar:
1924 o festeiro (Imperador) da Festa do Divino
j sPírito Santo era o Cel. Crisantemo Lucio de Paria
r- Era um homem muito rico, dono de muitas térras e
p chefao político da cidade e do municipio de Iguape.
^azia> desfazia e até modificava a sorte de muita gente.
toigarquia dos coronéis garantía isso.
^ ^ Cel. Crisantemo estava realizando urna bela festa
divino. Precisava dar alguma coisa ao povo, pois
§° haveria eleiqáo. A residencia do coronel estava
®la de gente. Muitas daquelas pessoas que ali comiam
ebiam moravam num casebre de chao batido e se
umbravam com o conforto, o luxo e a riqueza
Htiele enorme sobrado.
rQ ^ronel Crisantemo, despótico, opressor e politiquei-
q ’ nao admitía oposÍ9áo, pois tinha a Igreja ao seu lado.
^ orno festeiro colaborador da Festa do Divino, estava
^ nas celebra9oes, ao lado do altar-mor da Igreja junto
0r°a de prata” (Avelar 1984: 167 s.).
Et
ser° c°nfirma o entrevistado Sr. José Rosa: “Para
P Festeiro ... muito pobre nao podia ser”.
je-1:1 c°nio no primordio de nossa historia brasi-
NlA ^ Religiáo Católica salvaguarda a possi-
Vestade de convivencia entre Senhor e escravo, re-
exi ln(*° de um manto de benevolencia as rela9óes
Atontes” (Benedetti 1983: 71).
Anth]
roPos 101.2006
No sitio, a folia do Divino Espirito Santo se
prolongava por quase dois meses de atividades,
onde havia mais fartura, mais solidariedade e li-
berdade nas expressoes populares, pois, “o mu-
tiráo, a troca de dias de servio e outras formas
de auxilio mutuo eram as solufóes adotadas para
resolver a escassez de máo de obra. O trabalho
rural em comum se tomava assim urna segun-
da maneira de congregar os habitantes do bairro,
além da festa religiosa” (Queiroz 1973:4). Na
cidade, a visita das Bandeiras do Divino acon-
tecía dentro de um tempo bastante limitado e a
partir de relacionamentos um tanto formal, pois
os aparatos de controle social estavam na cidade,
representados por suas instituyes. “A religiosi-
dade popular urbana é menos exuberante, menos
expressiva, menos ritualista e, certamente, menos
‘praticante’. Essa religiosidade popular é pouco
inclinada a manifesta9áo folclórica, tendendo aín-
da para reduzir sua participa9áo em manifesta9oes
multitudinárias e em devo9oes públicas” (Galilea
1978; 23).
A seguir, tentaremos descrever como acontecía
a Festa do Divino Espirito Santo na cidade de
Iguape, no setor urbano. E, para isso, recorremos
ao artigo do Pe. Guilherme Saake (SYD).
“Havia cinco grandes momentos que marcavam
profundamente a vida do povo na festa do Divino
em Iguape: 1. Novenas; 2. Festas na casa do
Imperador (todas as noites logo após as novenas);
3. Leilóes; 4. Escolha do Novo Imperador; 5.
Missa do Divino e a grande Procissáo.
No domingo antes de Pentecostés todas as
folias devem estar de volta. Os presentes trazidos
pelas folias se guardara em salas especialmente
preparadas para este fim.
Septenário: No domingo que precede o Pente-
costés come9am os preparativos próximos, que
segundo os sete dons do Espirito Santo, levam sete
dias, e por isso sao chamados Septenário.
O principal acontecimento deste dia é a intro-
du9áo, em seu cargo, do festeiro, chamado nesta
ocasiáo de Imperador. Antes da novena da noite, o
Imperador do último ano traz a coroa do Espirito
Santo para junto do altar-mor. O vigário, que já
está com o novo festeiro á espera, recebe das
máos do antigo Imperador a coroa para oferecé-
la imediatamente ao novo festeiro. Este a toma
respeitosamente em suas máos, e coloca-a sobre o
trono erecto no lado do Evangelho. Entáo inicia o
septenário.
Em procissáo solene de todo o povo, leva-se a
coroa para a casa do Imperador.
Esta é a ordem da Procissáo: precedem meia
174
José Luiz Izidoro
dúzia de bandeiras, com a bandeira da festa na
frente, denominada ‘Bandeira rica’. Ladeando cada
bandeira váo os mordomos, que levam bastoes
vermelhos ñas máos. Ao lado destes andam os
portadores de tochas.
As bandeiras seguem o Imperador com a coroa,
a qual ele leva ñas maos. Ao seu lado vai um
garoto, muitas vezes o filho do Imperador, que
leva o cetro. Quatro mordomos formam em tomo
do Imperador e do pagem um quadrado com seus
bastoes vermelhos. Atrás deste quadrado vem o
estandarte do Divino e em seguida a banda de
música.
A Coroa prateada, forrada de seda escaríate é
instalada num quarto (Impèrio) enfeitada de panos
vermelho, na casa do festeiro.
Depois da Procissáo, conrea o movimento
mundano da festa que vai noite a dentro, e reúne
jovens e velhos, ricos e pobres numa ‘só fraternal
comunidade’.
Noite por noite repete-se toda a semana antes
da Festa de Pentecostés o ritual descrito.
Abertura do Impèrio: No sábado antes da Festa
de Pentecostés realizava-se, pelo meio dia, na
casa do Imperador, urna solenidade denominada
‘Abertura do Impèrio’. O Pe. Vigário aproxima-se
do trono e incensa a coroa. Depois da abertura
do Impèrio, mo9as levam as bandeiras do Espirito
Santo ñas casas da cidade. Os moradores saúdam
o estandarte, beijam-no e colocam o pano da
bandeira sobre a cabecea. Em seguida leva-se a
bandeira através de todos os quartos da casa.
O dono da casa dá um presente para a festa.
Estas visitas se dáo dentro de um tempo bastante
limitado.
Pentecostés: Abertura da Festa de Pentecostés: as
05 hs da madrugada a banda de música atravessa a
cidade para o toque da alvorada. Ao mesmo tempo
o repique dos sinais anuncia a festa. A seguir
estronda a salva de vinte e um tiros.
As nove horas realiza-se o último trajeto, a
última procissáo da casa do Imperador à Igreja.
Ás 9.30 hs há missa solene. O Imperador rodeado
da corte assiste à missa. Depois da missa, escolhe-
se por sorteio o Festeiro para o ano seguinte.
Só podem ser candidatos a Imperador homens
católicos que dispòem de meios e de influencia
para poder organizar dignamente urna festa.
Após a missa, sob a presidencia do antigo
festeiro que leva a Bandeira rica, conduzem o
festeiro eleito para sua casa. E lá se dá a cortesia
da casa (já preparada pelo festeiro antigo). Depois
disso volta-se à Igreja sob a presidencia do novo
festeiro que leva a Bandeira rica, a qual é deixada
na Igreja. A coroa e as demais insignias tambérn
permanecem na Igreja até após a procissáo da
tarde.
No espafo entre missa e procissáo da tarde
distribuem-se doces aos presos no cárcere, aos
doentes no hospital e aos pobres do lugar.
A grande procissáo festiva realiza-se conm-
ínente ás 16:00 hs. A ordem observada é a mesma
dos trajetos. E, entre os mordomos que rodeiam
o Imperador, acha-se o Festeiro do ano seguinte.
O ponto central da Procissáo é o altar portátil que
leva no centro urna espécie de ostensorio e pomba,
o símbolo do Espirito Santo. Todos os andores tém
cores vermelhas.
O préstito Anda com a bén^áo sacramental na
Igreja. A seguir exibem-se fogos de artificios e
seguem-se os leiloes até alta noite, como nos
dias anteriores. Assim termina a festa do Divino
Espirito Santo em Iguape” (Saake 1958: 32-36).
3.2 Nos Sitios
3.2.1 Desenrolar da folia
Segundo as pessoas entrevistadas (antes já men-
cionadas), a partir de suas próprias experiencias a
Festa do Divino Espirito Santo come^ava com a
folia. Um, ou mes e meio antes do dia da festa, um
grupo de pessoas, composto de homens, muflieres
e crian§as pegavam as Bandeiras, com a de vida
autoriza9áo do padre local.
Assim era composto tal grupo: Foliáo (toca a
viola e canta), dois rabequistas (um deles faz 0
baixáo), cantador (criaba 06 a 12 anos = v°z
aguda, que tambérn podia ser o batedor de caixa)’
dois remeiros (em Iguape, mesmo quando se ia de
barco a vapor era necessàrio urna canoa para cU'
cular ñas diversas comunidades rurais ribeirinhas)’
alferes (responsável pela Bandeira e pela oferta) e
os (as) carregadores (as) da Bandeira, que mufla8
vezes eram as mo9as.
Em Iguape, os vapores a roda (Vicente de Can
valho, Bento Moraes e Cándido Martins) trans'
portavam as prendas e os tripulantes ñas visitas da
Bandeira, quando o lugar era longe. la-se a vap°r’
lá se andava de canoa ou a pé.
Havia vários grupos. Cada grupo com uma
bandeira, totalizando 12 bandeiras, ao todo. ^aS
palavras do iguapense Sr. Frederico Valério, aS
doze Bandeiras significavam os doze discípulo8
Jesus. A Bandeira era vermelha, tendo ao cent\°
urna estampa do Divino Espirito Santo e t°
enfeitada de fitas de muitas cores. Muitas dess
Anthropos 101.20»
A Religiosidade popular na cultura caiçara
175
fitas eram colocadas como promessa pelas pessoas
das casas, que recebiam a visita da Bandeira.
Havia casas que, enquanto os homens estavam
fora (o tempo em que permaneciam na folia, como
parte da tripulaçâo), o festeiro ajudava económica-
mente aquela familia e depois acertava as contas.
Isto é afirmado pelo entrevistado Alfredo Izidoro.
Havia très grandes momentos ñas visitas da
Bandeira do Divino Espirito Santo no sitio. Em-
bora essa estrutura também se verificasse na ci-
dade, obviamente dentro de um tempo bastante
curto.
Primeiro momento: “Entrada”: No sitio, segun-
do o entrevistado Sr. Chico Pereira, podia ir toda a
familia, os convidados. Se houvesse lugar na casa,
lodos comiam e dormiam na casa. A folia chega-
va a casa e se apresentava á familia (cantando),
Pcdindo licen^a para entrar em nome do Divino.
Nesse momento o dono da casa vinha e beijava a
Bandeira, esta entrava e passava a ser venerada por
lodos da casa, deixando sua bén9áo em todos os
cantos da casa. Era nesse momento que, quando
Se tinha alguma promessa se colocavam as fitas
na Bandeira. Assim também, nesse momento se
cantava pedindo as prendas.
Segundo Momento: “Agradecimento”: Cantava-
Se> agradecendo aquela familia e pedindo a béngáo
do Divino sobre ela.
Terceiro Momento: “Despedida”: Cantava-se a
despedida e seguiam para outras casas.
No sitio, essa estrutura tinha um tempo mais
Prolongado e eficaz do que na cidade. Pois logo
aPós o agradecimento, o dono da casa servia o
^Ue comer e beber aos convivas. Era um mo-
mento forte de confraternizado. Enquanto as ínul-
as estavam na cozinha preparando o banquete
alrno9o, jantar ou café), os homens passavam o
empo jogando cartas. As criabas se divertiam
ra, quando encontravam outras como elas, a jo-
far bolinha ou peáo. No dizer de Benedita Maria
t - (urna das entrevistadas): “No sitio se ma-
krdoro
^avarn aves ou porcos (as mulheres ajudavam) e se
0sla á comida. Jantava-se bem e depois seguiam
k c°ntos de casos, piadas, cantos, pinga, quentáo,
a ^da de vinho com ovos. Conversava-se com
^ mulheres na cozinha enquanto se preparava
comida. O cantador tomava chocolate (ovo e
P°) por causa da garganta. E, em muitas vezes
e?ava-se o baile (fandango, bate pé, bailado
lo ^ra^nfi°)”- Há quem discordasse deste momen-
Co 6 ^a^e- ^ Sr. Chico Pereira (entrevistado),
pres° foliáo, nem sempre permitía os bailes na
m en?a da Bandeira do Divino. Assim ele co-
Pitia') Alguns pegavam á viola ... Vamos dan9ar
‘ • A familia tirava a mesa, deixava na
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
varanda ... Eu (Chico) nunca consenti como chefe
do negocio. Onde a Bandeira pousa eu nâo vou
fazer baile”.
No dia seguinte, fazia-se a alvorada na madru-
gada. Logo após o café, continuava a caminhada
da Bandeira do Divino Espirito Santo.
Essa era a oportunidade de reunir a vizinhan9a
em torno de um objetivo, isto é, da Bandeira do
Divino, que a partir da folia possibilitava prolon-
gar momentos de solidariedade. Era o momento
propicio para reatar as rendes que, por motivos
diversos, durante o ano, foram danificadas. Pois,
já de antemáo estava “estabelecida urna rede es-
treita de rendes entre os roceiros pertencentes
ao mesmo grupo de vizinhan9a, que adquiriam
consciéncia da unidade e do funcionamento deste”
(Queiroz 1973:4).
Esses très grandes momentos, isto é, a “En-
trada”, o “Agradecimento” e “Despedida” sempre
aconteciam, com estilo literário de folia, por meio
de versos cantados. Eram versos que, segundo
Alfredo Izidoro (entrevistado), refletiam a situa9áo
real vivida pela famñia cacara no momento em
que ali se apresentava a folia. Assim dizia ele:
“Eram versos inventados de acordo com a situa9áo
encontrada na casa. Tinham o objetivo de salvar
a casa. O foliáo e o cantador tinham que cantar a
situa9áo da familia (música, choro, gritos, remorso
e tristeza)”.
Darei aqui alguns exemples que nos ajudaráo a
entender o importante papel do foliáo e do canta-
dor ñas visitas da folia do Divino Espirito Santo.
O primeiro exemple é a partir da experiéncia vivi-
da pelo Sr. Chico Pereira (entrevistado). Assim o
comenta: “A pessoa da casa se fez de morto para
urna promessa. Nós nao sabíamos, depois descobri
o negocio. Ai cantei o caso que ele estava cum-
prindo a promessa dele ... Como tinha saído deste
campo, mas o Pai veio, o Divino Espirito Santo
veio e fez ressuscitar”. O segundo exemple parte
do mesmo entrevistado: “Foi quando, na familia,
o pai havia morrido. A famñia e alguns da equipe
também choravam. O dono da casa havia morrido
naquele dia”. O terceiro exemple é a partir da
experiéncia vivida pelo Sr. Alfredo Izidoro (entre-
vistado): “... Urna mo9a morreu afogada (Ribeira
acima) e tiraram o corpo d’água naquele momento.
A Bandeira chegou a casa (com esse drama na
familia). O foliáo e o cantador tinham que can-
tar essa situa9áo. Teve terço à noite feito pelo
capeláo”.
Ilustrarei esses très grandes momentos da visita
da Folia do Divino Espirito Santo ñas familias
rurais, com os versos que Ihes corresponden!.
Esses versos sáo partes da entrevista realizada
176
José Luiz Izidoro
com o Sr. Alfredo Izidoro, que em 1942-1945
aproximadamente, aos 12 ou 15 anos de idade
acompanhava a Folia do Divino pelos sitios de
Iguape, desempenhando o papel de cantador (voz
aguda):
Entrada (sauda9áo)
1. Deus vos dé muito boa tarde. Meu devoto
morado. O Divino vos pergunta: como estás e
como passó.
2. Senhor Bom Jesús de Iguape; vós sois o Senhor
de nós. Vós tendes Jorge Serrano, e tendes
Cecñia de Goes. (Na casa havia a imagem do
Bom Jesús).
3. Glorioso Bom Jesús, vós fostes crucificado.
Postes pregado na cruz para remir nossos pe-
cados. (Jesús crucificado).
ao Espirito Santo como certeza de prosperidade e
bentjáo á famñia visitada.
Despedida
A despedida, a partir do respectivo verso de-
monstra a preocupa9áo da tripula9áo com sua
apresenta9áo ñas demais famñias, e isto se consti-
tuía um convite á famñia despedida, urna vez que
muitas famñias acompanhavam a tripula9áo da
folia ñas demais casas.
Nos textos recolhidos pelo Pe. Guilherme Saake,
os versos da folia do Divino Espirito Santo tomarn
um tom mais crítico e, mesmo, ofensivo. Mencio-
naremos alguns desses versos para termos a clara
idéia do sublime valor que constituía os versos da
folia; Os homens das folias assim cantavam (Saake
1958: 30 s.):
Agradecimento (oferta)
1. Agradecemos as bebidas, que destes ao foliáo.
As vossas bebidas finas, que destes de cora9áo.
2. Agradecemos as ofertas, dessa famñia em ge-
ral(r). Que o Divino Espirito Santo a todos há
de ajudar.
Despedida
1. Despedida, despedida nós queremos viajar. Que
isso vai sendo tarde, temos muito que andar.
1. Divino Espirito Santo, socorrei esta pobreza. O pobre
dá sua esmola, pro rico comer na mesa.
2. Fechaste a vossa porta, encerraste a vossa sorte. As
portas do céu se fecham, na hora de vossa morte.
(Neste sitio o dono que era protestante nao quis
receber a Bandeira do Divino).
3. Que altar táo bem ornado, enfeitado de veludo. O
tempo que morreu um porque nao morreu tudo.
(Nesta casa nao queriam cantoria por ter falecido
alguém, recebiam só a Bandeira).
3.2.2 Análise dos elementos contidos
nos referidos versos
Entrada
O primeiro verso de saudaqáo: Manifesta a gra-
tidáo da tripulaqáo da Folia à familia visitada. E
urna verdadeira epifania, isto é, ali está presente
o Divino Espirito Santo, e é Ele quem saúda a
famñia visitada.
O segundo e terceiro versos da entrada: Difícil-
mente se encontra urna casa em Iguape que nao
tenha a imagem do Bom Jesus da Cana Verde,
isto é, o “Bom Jesus de Iguape”. A fé em Jesus
Cristo se historiciza e se manifesta no pròprio
adiado em Iguape, desde 1647, e se estende até
os dias de boje ñas romarias e festas ao Padroeiro
da cidade. Sendo assim, esses dois versos corres-
ponden! ao reconhecimento desse fato e de sua
memòria histórica. Teologicamente, há aqui urna
aproxima9áo entre a Cristologia e a Pneumato-
logia.
Agradecimento
Aqui os dois versos demonstram a benevolencia da
famñia, manifestada em suas ofertas; e a invoca9ào
Como diziamos anteriormente, estes versos rece-
ben! um tom mais critico.
O primeiro verso: Apresenta urna visào social
da realidade da famñia visitada, e assinala a bene-
volència do pobre em contraste com a opulencia
do rico. E assim, o Espirito Santo é invocado eh1
favor do pobre.
O segundo verso; Na fé popular do nosso pov°
catara nào receber a Bandeira do Divino em sua
casa poderia significar um grande castigo. Aqul
se apresenta urna teologia em que o céu e a
terra estào em profunda sintonia, ou melhor, §e
complementam. É a partir do cotidiano familia
que se participa ou nào da dinàmica da cria9a°
(céu e terra), e se supera a tensào morte x vida- ^
O terceiro verso: O altar como “lugar sagrado
da acolhida dos “símbolos sagrados”. Ao ua°
receber a folia do Divino, se esquece de 4ue 3
morte de um nào significa urna mensagern ^
morte para todos. Ao contràrio, é preciso celebra1
a vida na continua vitória sobre a morte. Esse’
portanto, é um dos significados da Bandeira, P0l‘
o Espirito Santo é “vivificador” e “criador”.
A visita da bandeira do Divino era motivo
alegría e regozijo para a familia que a recebia e
sua casa. E essa alegría era fortemente partilha
Anthropos 101
2(#
A Religiosidade popular na cultura calcara
177
com a vizinhansa, com a equipe da folia e com
todos os convivas.
Ao perguntar a urna das pessoas entrevistadas
Para esse trabalho (Benedita María Izidoro), sobre
o significado da visita da Bandeira ñas familias,
obtive a seguinte resposta: “Significava a alegría a
todos nós. Todos vinham as nossas casas e nós
íarnos a suas casas. Se tinha baile ou comida,
todos participavam. Ficávamos contentes em re-
ceber o Divino Espirito Santo em casa. Era nos-
Sa fé. Enquanto a Bandeira estava em casa nos
reuníamos para rezar o tertjo e depois comida. No
sítio, muitas vezes se encontrava com defuntos ñas
Casas, entáo se fazia o velorio. Também se usava
0 dinheiro da prenda para comprar coisas para
comer, quando em alguma casa nao havia comida.
0 Divino Espirito Santo é um Espirito que ilumina
todas as pessoas que precisara dele, suas mentes e
idéias”.
Essa era a prática da solidariedade vivida como
tttanifesta^áo de fé na festa do Divino pelo povo
CaÍ9ara de Iguape.
^ A Festa do Divino Espirito Santo hoje
em Iguape
Ano fie 1996, festa do Pentecostés em Iguape,
p° dia 26 de Maio (presenta e participa9áo na
esta do Divino Espirito Santo em Iguape, nos
las 23, 24, 25 e 26 de Maio de 1996). Estive
Presente em todos os acontecimentos, e eis como
Se apresentava a Festa do Divino:
^ Io de Maio: Dia do trabalhador: Entrega das
andeiras do Divino para as comunidades urbanas.
^ 0 doze bandeiras (com as mesmas características
amigamente). As comunidades tém o compro-
!sso de recolher prendas e fazer as respectivas
^ a9oes e cantos. Geralmente, em sua maioria,
a 0 as mulheres que saem com as Bandeiras. Isto
v °ntece em um curto espa90 de tempo, pois sao
fias rápidas. Em algumas comunidades havia
18 Participa9áo com rela9áo a outras. E algumas
Se s°as reclamavam da falta de comunica9áo para
Programar as visitas.
c ^umta Feira (que antecede o dia de Pente-
u es): Entrega das bandeiras na Igreja de Sao
ra finito, e logo o trajeto (pelas 19.00 hs) pa-
le a basílica do Bom Jesús: As doze Bandeiras
le] ÜaS P°r doze homens, protegidas cada urna
P°r quatro bastóes, estes carregados por
0Ero mulheres. Atrás das doze Bandeiras segue
a pandarte, carregado por um homem, e logo
h0rr^10a e o Cetro. A Coroa carregada por um
e o Cetro por urna criaba (Imperador e seu
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
filho), protegidos por quatro bastóes carregados
por quatro mulheres. E por último vem a Banda
Musical.
Ao chegar á Basñica do Bom Jesús inicia-se
o triduo em louvor ao Espirito Santo. Terminado
o triduo, todos voltam para suas casas, e um
responsável leva os símbolos do Divino até a igreja
de Nossa Sra. do Rosário, de onde sairá o trajeto
de Sexta Feira e de Sábado, seguindo a mesma
ordem acima descrita.
Domingo: Pelas 17.00 hs, procissáo do Divi-
no Espirito Santo seguindo o mesmo trajeto dos
triduos, pelas mas principáis da cidade de Iguape.
Ao chegar á Basílica inicia-se a missa.
As quermesses se realizara no sábado e domin-
go, no saláo paroquial (antes eram realizadas na
frente da Basílica do Bom Jesús). E seu objetivo
atender a fins sociais.
A estrutura organizativa acima mencionada vem
evoluindo mais ou menos a partir de 1978, de-
pois de alguns anos de decadencia (ca. de 1967 a
1978), através de tentativas de alguns missionários
da Congrega9áo do Verbo Divino, presentes em
Iguape desde 1927. E assim, foi-se recuperando,
gradativamente a Festa do Divino. Ao final da
década de 80 e 90, firmam-se algumas mudabas
significativas quanto á festa do Divino. Isto é,
tenta-se reanimar, ao menos na cidade, a fé devo-
cional ao Espirito Santo. E assim tenta-se organizar
a referida festa nos moldes que ora vivencia-
mos, com as mudabas progressivamente introdu-
zcas, maniendo porém os simbolos sagrados como
as doze bandeiras, a coroa, o cetro, o Impera-
dor, procissóes, missas. Contudo a festa realiza-se
hoje somente no setor urbano de Iguape e no
ámbito das pequeñas comunidades e com a ausen-
cia plena das “folias” e das “trad^oes rurais dos
festejos”.
Como conclusáo
As Festas Religiosas Populares sao urna realidade
de profunda magnitude para a vida dos povos.
Suas manifesta9oes possibilitam urna constante
harmonía existencial e cósmica entre o cotidiano
da vida e a vida de fé. Sao, sobretudo, práticas
religiosas, cujas raízes estáo na esséncia do ser
humano, que descobre a gratuidade de Deus nos
pequeños e grandes gestos de solidariedade do
dia a dia. Isto explica o significado da Festa do
Divino em suas folias, para a popula9áo rural e
urbana de Iguape, principalmente, no espa9o rural
onde quase inexistia a sociedade estratificada em
classes.
178
José Luiz Izidoro
Minha intençâo, neste trabalho, foi a de trazer
à luz a força vivaz que residia na Festa do Divino,
como manifestaçâo religiosa popular em Iguape.
Em meio à tensâo vivida na relaçâo do oficial com
o popular, desde as instâncias civis e religiosas,
a Religiào Popular em sua criatividade, esponta-
neidade se manteve consideravelmente significante
na vida do povo crente, dentro de um dinamismo
que se atualiza em sua forma de viver o sagrado.
Essa realidade constata-se ainda em muitas outras
regiôes do pais onde as Pestas Religiosas populares
representam um elemento reorganizador da vida
do povo no cosmo, e urna forte vivência de fé no
Deus criador e libertador.
Procurei situar a Festa do Divino a partir de seu
contexto sócio-cultural e eclesial com a finalidade
de percebermos as relaçôes e interaçôes que daí
se estabelecem. Isto para nao corrermos o risco de
conceber acriticamente as Festas Religiosas Popu-
lares, como meras superstiçôes alienantes. Nosso
objetivo foi o de descrevé-las como manifestaçôes
que respondem ás necessidades vitáis do ser hu-
mano e traduzem determinada realidade histórico-
cultural, sempre reivindicando o sentido pleno da
vida, que, por sua prática de fé, vai corroen-
do as duras barreiras do poder prepotente, pro-
pondo assim relaçôes harmoniosas e solidárias
das pessoas entre si, com a natureza e com o
Divino.
O tema proposto “A Religiosidade Popular na
Cultura Caiçara” já provoca um forte desejo de
buscar as práticas religiosas populares a partir do
seu chao sócio-cultural. E a “Cultura Caiçara”
se apresenta como matriz fundamental para a
vivência e irradiaçào das manifestaçôes religiosas
que trazem ao coraçào de sua gente novo alentó
e novas formas de viver. E a prática da solidarie-
dade que, efetivamente, irá promover e confirmar
essas novas formas de se viver, e consequente-
mente levará a urna autocrítica todas as instancias
oficiáis da cultura dominante, iluminando auto-
críticamente também a vida e a fé populares.
Bibliografìa
Avelar, Paulo de
1984 Iguape de Outrora. Paraná: Edades Lítero-Técnica.
Benedetti, Luiz Roberto
1983 Os Santos nómades e o Deus estabelecido. Um estudo
sobre religiào e sociedade. Sao Paulo: Edigóes Paulinas.
BrandSo, Carlos Rodrigues
1985 Memoria do sagrado. Estudo de religiào e ritual. Sáo
Paulo: Edigóes Paulinas. (Estudos & Debates Latino-
Americanos, 13)
Centro Cultural de Iguape
1992-1993 Centro Cultural de Iguape. Iguape: Dep. da Cultu-
ra.
Clemente, Manuel
1978 A Religiosidade popular. Lisboa: Patriarcado de Lisboa,
Centro de Estudos pastorais; Seminàrio dos Oliváis.
Collado, Roberto Gomes
1989 E assim se fez princesa. Sao Paulo: Edicon. [1 ed.]
Galilea, Segundo
1978 Religiosidade popular e pastoral. Sao Paulo: Edigóe8
Paulinas.
Izidoro, José Luiz
1996 A Religiosidade popular na cultura caigara. A Festa
do Divino Espirito Santo em Iguape - Para urua
leitura antropológico-pastoral da Festa. [Monografia de
Teologia apresentado no ITESP (Instituto Teológico de
Sao Paulo), 1996. Inédito]
Livro do Tombo
1857-1903 Livro do Tombo da Paróquia Matriz de Nossa
Senhora das Neves da Vila de Iguape. L. 2. Iguape-
Dep. da Cultura.
Oliveira, Pedro A. Ribeiro
1985 Religiào e dominagào de classe. Cénese, estrutura e
fungáo do catolicismo romanizado no Brasil. Petrópol1^
Edigóes Vozes.
Queiroz, Maria Isaura Pereira de
1973 Bairros rurais paulistas. Dinàmica de relagóes bairi0
rural - cidade. Sáo Paulo: Livraria Duas Cidades.
Saake, Guilherme ^
1958 A Festa do Divino em Iguape. Almanaque Sao MiSlie
(Porto Alegre): 30-36.
Tribuna de Iguape
1992-1993 Tribuna de Iguape. Iguape.
Anthropos 101.20°
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 179-201
Inca Copacabana
A Reconstruction from the Perspective of the Carved Rocks
Jessica Joyce Christie
Abstract. - Taking carved rock complexes as a starting point,
this essay will attempt to reconstruct certain sections of Inca
Copacabana through formal analysis, archaeological data, and
ethnography. It will be argued that the rock art sites of Intinkala
ar|d Copacati marked the locations where local pre-Inca idols
^ere put on display, that some of the grid-like carvings
functioned as counting devices that could be translated into
quipus, and that the Calvario hill was the site of Inca races,
ft will further be shown that Copacabana functioned as the
tuain political and religious center in Collasuyu, located at the
endpoint of a major pilgrimage road in a system of extended
Ceque lines which encompassed the entire empire. [Bolivia,
Lake Titicaca, Andean, Inca, archaeology, ethnohistory, rock
an]
Jessica Joyce Christie, Ph.D. (1995) in Latin American Stud-
les from the University of Texas in Austin. She is Assistant
Professor in the School of Art and Design at East Carolina
University. - Since 1997, she has been working in Peru and
POlivia, writing on a book about the sculpted outcrops of
^ e Inca. - Her publications include the edition of “Maya
ulaces and Elite Residences. An Interdisciplinary Approach”
'Austin 2003); and the coedition of “Palaces and Power in the
Americas. From Peru to the Northwest Coast” (Austin 2006).
Sacredness of Lake Titicaca
fake Titicaca has been an immensely powerful
Place for visitors today who are mesmerized by
. . stark landscape as well as for ancient peoples,
t Is located between the 15th and 17th parallels of
southern latitude and straddles the border between
eru and Bolivia. At an altitude of 3,835 m above
Sea level, it is the largest lake on the South Amer-
lcan continent, measuring 8,882 km2. For Andean
people, Lake Titicaca constitutes the primordial
site of creation in pan-Andean myth. Over time,
many stories and legends have been connected
with the lake, its islands, and with special places in
the surrounding countryside, beginning possibly as
early as 1100 B.C. and continuing all the way into
the present (Salles-Reese 1997: 50 f.).1 2 The earliest
human occupations in the Lake Titicaca Basin go
back to the Early Archaic Period before 6000 B.C.
and possibly several millennia earlier (Bauer and
Stanish 2001; 33).2
The stories and creation myth that mention
Lake Titicaca and play out in locales in its vicin-
ity were recorded by Spanish writers in the 16th
1 It must be said very clearly that the chronology of the
Titicaca Basin is still being debated among scholars. In the
most recent academic publication at the time of this writing,
Charles Stanish (2003: 89 f.) proposes a general chronology
divided into eight periods: Late Archaic (circa 5000-
2000 B.C.), Early Formative (circa 2000-1300 B.C.),
Middle Formative (1300-500 B.C.), Upper Formative (500
B.C. - A.D. 400), Expansive Tiwanaku (A.D. 400-1100),
Altiplano (A.D. 1100-1450), Expansive Inca (A.D. 1450-
1532), and Early Spanish Colonial (A.D. 1532-1700).
Alongside this general chronology, he places local historical
ones, providing a dual system for each area of the Titicaca
Basin. Stanish (139 f.) dates the full cultural development
of Pucara between approximately 200 B.C. and A.D. 200
and understands it as a historical period in the northern part
of the Basin (90).
2 The first sedentary populations living in permanent villages
developed in the Early Formative beginning about 2000
B.C. (Stanish 2003; 99). Stanish presents a full discussion
of the chronology of the Titicaca Basin and the evolution
of complex society in the region.
180
Jessica Joyce Christie
century and reflect the Inca version of such sto-
ries and myths. To complicate matters further, the
individual accounts are not identical but shaped
and influenced by personal experiences and pref-
erences of the writers. It becomes our challenge
to critically extract shared themes and concepts
from the many differing versions and collect them
into a generalized Lake Titicaca origin myth, as,
for example, Gary Urton (1999: 34-44) has done.
The following is a paraphrase of such a master nar-
rative reconstructed by Salles-Reese (1997: 53 f.)
from sixteen versions of the origin myth compiled
between 1550 and 16533: Viracocha appeared in
the Lake Titicaca region when it still lay in dark-
ness because neither the sun nor the moon had
been created. He came to Tiwanaku, where he
created giants, man, animals, and all other things.
Viracocha set certain rules of conduct, which his
creatures were to observe but man disobeyed. In
response, Viracocha sent a flood that destroyed
everything except for a few privileged individ-
uals who managed to escape punishment. When
the flood receded, Viracocha traveled to Titicaca
where he created the sun, the moon, and the stars.
He formed the different lineages of humankind
with the clay of Tiwanaku and gave each group
its clothing, language, songs, agricultural systems,
and religion. Viracocha sent some of the individu-
als he had just created to the mountaintops, others
to the rivers and springs, and still others into caves.
This is how the different lineages originated. After
creation was completed and the earth populated,
Viracocha journeyed throughout the different re-
gions of the Andes. He revealed himself to the
people as their creator though not all recognized
him and those who did not were punished. When
his mission on earth was finished, Viracocha dis-
appeared into the sea.
The Viracocha story has to be understood as
the cosmic pan-Andean creation myth, which had
been formulated in the Lake Titicaca Basin but
became well-known throughout the Andes (for the
full argument see Salles-Reese 1997:45-88). It
addresses the origin and creation of the world,
the cosmos, and humanity through the acts of
Viracocha.
3 The primary sources Salles-Reese (1997: 184 f.; note 23)
consulted are Bartolomé de Las Casas (1550); Juan Diez
de Betanzos (1551); Pedro Cieza de León (1553); Pedro
Sarmiento de Gamboa (1572), two versions; Cristóbal de
Molina, el Cusqueño, (1575); Pedro Gutiérrez de Santa
Clara (end of 16th century); José de Acosta (1590), two ver-
sions; Juan de Santacruz Pachacuti Yamqui Salcamaygua
(1613); Antonio de la Calancha (1637); and Bernabé Cobo
(1653), five versions.
In the 15th century, as the Inca moved south-
ward from Cusco, conquering and annexing the
territory of Collasuyu,4 they overlaid their version
of the creation myth onto the Viracocha story. For
example, Betanzos mentions that Viracocha came
to Cusco where he called up out of the earth a
number of important people. His account clearly
links Lake Titicaca, Viracocha, and the Inca (Ur-
ton 1999: 39). Salles-Reese reconstructed another
condensed master narrative from sixteen variants
of the origin myth of the Inca dynasty, compiled
between 1552 and 1653 by Spanish chroniclers
(1997: 93)5: On the Island of Titicaca, the Sun
- personified as a man in a shining costume -
summoned the Incas and adopted them as his chib
dren. Since the rest of humankind was living in a
state of barbarism, the Sun conferred a civilizing
mission upon the Incas. These divine emissaries
traveled to the north and emerged from a cave at
Pacaritambo near Cusco. These original Inca, four
brothers sharing the name Ayar and four sisters,
wore clothing richly adorned in gold and carried
corn seeds. One brother, Manco Capac, also car-
ried a golden rod that would sink into the ground
at the exact place where, according to the wishes
of the Sun, they should settle. The rod was thrust
into the ground at either Pacaritambo or Cusco.
Three of the original four brothers were turned into
huacas. The remaining brother, Manco Capac, had
a son with one of his sisters, thus becoming the
progenitor of the Inca dynasty.
The two master narratives summarized above
are extremely important for our understanding 0
the politics and ideology of Inca expansion and °t
their strategies to justify and legitimize domination
in Collasuyu. In a first step, the Inca adopted
the origin myth with Viracocha as its protagonist
that was known to Andean peoples but at the
same time manipulated it by introducing theh
own ancestors (Manco Capac and Mama Ocfl°
were called up by the Sun on the Island of the
Sun ...). According to the chronicles, Wiraqocha
Inka, Pachakuti Inka, and Thupa Inka Yupafk1
conquered and stabilized the altiplano (D’Altr0^
4 According to Stanish (2003: 237), the Inca took control 0
the Titicaca Basin between A.D. 1450 and 1475. . 0
5 Salles-Reese (1997; 186, note 46) used as sources Francis^
López de Gomara (1552); Agustín de Zárate (1555); P® ,,,
Pizarro (1571); Cristóbal de Molina, el Cusqueño, 0^ ^
Martín de Murúa (1590); three different versions of t .
Garcilaso de la Vega (1609); Juan de Santacruz Pachac
Yamqui Salcamaygua (1613); Felipe Guamán Pornfan):
Ayala (1613); Buenaventura de Salinas y Cordova (w
Antonio Vázquez de Espinosa (1630); and four diffgr
versions of Bernabé de Cobo (1653).
Anthropos 101
2OO6
Inca Copacabana
181
2002: 65-72) and coopting the pan-Andean site
of origin would have legitimized their military
campaigns. To bring this point to life, I will
summarize a story reported in 1621 by Ramos
Gavilán: an old priest at the sanctuary of the Sun in
Lake Titicaca had heard that Topa Inca Yupanqui
had publicly declared his devotion to the Sun. So
this priest decided to travel to Cusco and gain
the Inca ruler’s support for his sanctuary. Topa
Inca received him and he described the shrine,
its history, and oracles in such a powerful way
that the Inca ruler was fascinated and promised to
come and see it. Topa Inca came, took possession
°f the island, and made the Sanctuary of the Sun
the most famous and principal one in the empire
(Ramos Gavilán 1988: 39-41). Indeed, the Island
°f the Sun became the final destination of a highly
Prestigious pilgrimage route which originated in
Gusco.
One great challenge Inca administration faced
as their territories expanded was the salient ethnic
diversity characterizing the subjects of the Inca and
their own brief history and lack of a long reputable
descent line. By constructing the mythological
dnk to the Lake Titicaca Basin, they gained the
type of respectable history they needed to accredit
themselves against their neighbors and subjects.
Since their subjects were familiar with the myth
and the Island of the Sun, they created a unifying
tnctor and by overlaying the birth of their own
Progenitors, they claimed that their dominion was
preordained. Yet it was not only foreordained
ut also sanctified by supernatural forces. The
nca version of the Lake Titicaca origin myth
exPlains the close relationship between the Sun
and Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo, the first
^ythohistorical Inca king and queen. From then
0rf the Sun remained the main deity backing up the
^upreme religious and political authority of all Inca
Gn another level, the Lake Titicaca origin myth
Inakes clear that the religious political power of
Ca rulers was not exclusively grounded in their
^rental relation with the Sun. Manco Capac and
r artla Ocllo were called forth from openings in a
k p outcrop by the Sun. This setting evokes sym-
^lc links with stone, caves, and the underworld,
telp ^I1Ca versl°n the origin myth continues by
lng us that the ancestors hiked underground to
^Uiergg from t^e caves at Pacaritambo. Thus,
tiesarly> the ancestral Ayar brothers and sisters have
^nv‘untIerworlcl5 which Andean people
per1Sl0n as streams of water circulating to the up-
the °r^' They have the ability to transform from
ealm of water and fluidity to substance and be-
Anth
come human beings. So the ancestors demonstrate
connections with the supernatural worlds below
and above, and in this manner the origin myths
contain the foundations and core ideas of divine
sanctioning of the Inca state.
One element which pertains to such divine
sanctioning and is often overlooked is the mate-
rial of stone. Both emergence sites are rock out-
crops: the outcrop in the Sanctuary of the Island
of the Sun remains unmodified but Copacabana,
the mainland center which controlled the cult and
pilgrimage on the island, is graced with a num-
ber of sculpted rock complexes; Pumaurqu which
contains the caves of Pacaritambo is also carved.
Stone is the material par excellence to visualize
links with the vertical divisions of the cosmos. It
is the essence of mountains which are grounded
in bedrock in the underworld and tower above the
human world, seemingly reaching to the sky. Inca
rulers wanted to associate themselves with such a
powerful substance and this is one reason why they
chose these origin sites. It is also one reason why
they commissioned rock art to make certain places
sacred and reflect their connections with the super-
natural realms; this constitutes an important point
to which we will return below. The association
between the ruler and stone went one step further:
during their migration from Pacaritambo to Cusco,
several of the Ayar brothers were turned into stone
huacas. In the Chanka wars, during the decisive
battle, stones in the field metamorphosed into war-
riors rushing to Pachakuti’s aid and making his
victory possible. These stones were later venerated
as shrines called pururaucas (D’Altroy 2002: 64).
I am not suggesting that Inca rulers themselves
transformed into stone but that they developed and
practiced a stone ideology that was grounded in the
origin myths and materialized in the design and
layout, the architecture and sculpture of many Inca
centers and royal estates. The Viracocha story fur-
ther reinforces aspects of this stone ideology. Vira-
cocha created the first humans at Tiwanaku; while
he may have used clay, Tiwanaku was and is fa-
mous for its exquisite stonework found in building
blocks and architecture as well as in stone sculp-
ture. We know that Pachakuti was so impressed
by Tiwanaku craftsmanship that he ordered his
masons and stonecutters to copy their style (Cobo
1956: 191 f. [1653: Bk. 12, chap. XIII]). So, clear-
ly, if the symbolic qualities and manipulation of
stone were meant to assume a significant role in
imperial ideology, Tiwanaku had to be integrated
into the origin myth.
In a second step, as is outlined in the second
master narrative, the Inca selected a second site
,r°Pos 101.2006
182
Jessica Joyce Christie
of emergence and of the origin of Inca dynasties
at Pacaritambo. This site was purely Inca, the
pacarina of Inca rulers, and was not shared by
Andean people in general. In Inca myth and
storytelling, it functioned as the place where the
specific history of the Inca began.
Inca Sites in and near Copacabana
From the oral traditions and chronicles we will
now turn to the material remains. The discussion
will focus on the Sanctuary area on the Island of
the Sun and Copacabana and its environs on the
mainland as the two major final stations on the
pilgrimage route from Cusco to Lake Titicaca. The
sources of information about these sites are archae-
ological surveys, excavations, and ethnography.
The most recent and most comprehensive research
program on the Islands of the Sun and Moon was
conducted by Brian Bauer and Charles Stanish
from 1994 to 1996. In the 1994-1995 season, they
surveyed both islands and identified more than
180 precontact sites. The survey was followed up
by test excavations and archaeoastronomy research
during the second season. For the investigation of
the Island of the Sun and its Sanctuary, I refer the
reader to the full book publication by Bauer and
Stanish (2001). Yet their research area was limited
to the two islands and they did not investigate
Copacabana and its surroundings, which is the goal
of this essay. In the following, I will attempt a
partial reconstruction of Copacabana during Inca
times. While most Inca architectural remains lie
below the present town, a number of carved rock
complexes are exposed and accessible and they
will form the point of departure for my recon-
struction. They will be placed in context with ar-
chaeological data - where available - and textual
passages from ethnographies - where applicable -
and an effort will be made to reconstruct and
interpret their possible roles and functions within
Copacabana during Inca times.
The most important ethnographic sources are
the writings of Alonso Ramos Gavilán (1988
[1621]) and Bernabé Cobo (1956[1653]). Ramos
Gavilán was bom in what is now the Pemvian city
of Ayacucho. He visited different regions on the
coast and in the highlands of Pem and arrived at
Copacabana in 1618. There he began writing his
books, interviewing many elders of Copacabana,
and personally visiting the Island of the Sun.
The resulting work, “Historia del Santuario de
Nuestra Señora de Copacabana,” was completed
and published in Lima in 1621.
Cobo lived near Lake Titicaca from 1616 to
1617. He arrived at the town of Juli, sailed around
the lake, and visited the Island of the Sun. Un-
like Ramos Gavilán, he did not begin to write
immediately. Cobo continued to travel and collect
information and did not complete his extensive
project, “Historia del Nuevo Mundo” which origi-
nally contained 43 books divided into three parts,
until 1653. In his chapters on the Islands of the
Sun and Moon, he copied from Ramos Gavilán
and added his own personal observations.
The pilgrims entered sacred ground at the town
of Yunguyu which marks the entrance to the
peninsula on which Copacabana is located (map)-
At Yunguyu, both sides of the lake come so
close together that a land bridge or isthmus is
created. Cobo (1990[1653]: 94, 96) states that the
Inca had this entrance closed off with a wall
extending from one beach to the other. There
were gates in this wall staffed with watchmen
and guards to control the people who came to
visit the sanctuaries. Prospective visitors were
sent to confessors and, according to the gravity
of their admitted offenses, were punished with
forms of physical penitence. It is intriguing that
still today the Copacabana Peninsula is separated
from the rest of the mainland by the national
border between Peru and Bolivia. Travelers must
walk through a modern wall with an arch, pass
customs, and immigration, and obtain permission
to continue their journey (Bauer and Stanish 2001 -
214 f.).
Ramos Gavilán (1988: 127 [1621: Bk. 1, chap-
20]) adds that the pilgrims were well provided
for by the Inca state. The emperor ordered that
public hostels were built, which they called tarft'
bos, as well as special pilgrims’ houses narneu
corpaguasi, where the visitors were provided f°r
as long as their journeys lasted. At Copacabana*
they received food and drink and those who weie
very poor were given clothing. All the supph^
were collected in storehouses or coicas dotting
the hills around Copacabana. Additional stor£'
houses stood in Loca, a small community referí6
to in a 1548 Copacabana encomienda docunaen^
(Bauer and Stanish 2001:216). The village 0
Loca still exists between Copacabana and YuU
guyu. Cobo confirms the existence of storehouse8
in the Copacabana area (1990:93 [1653: Bk. 1 ’
chap. 18]).
The physical appearance of Copacabana
poorly understood. The chroniclers tell us that
had at least one temple and that the pilgrims rna
another confession (Cobo 1990: 96 [1653; Bk-
chap. 18]). Since the Inca settlement is overlaid j
Anthropos 101-200
Inca Copacabana
183
The pilgrim’s route from
(h,n^uyu to the Island of the Sun
auer and Stanish 2001: 214).
the
modern town, it will not be feasible to explore
q full extent any time soon. Nevertheless, in 1983
theWa^° ^vera S undt conducted excavations in
main plaza of Copacabana. On the surface,
Inc f°Und ceramics and other objects that were
p-Ca' Intermediate levels yielded ceramics from
heWaimku iv an(j anci jn lowest levels,
^ humified ceramics and stone foundations of
Ses affiliated with Chiripa (Boero Rojo y de
ear?.ro R°Jo 1987: 15). While there were apparently
Wler settlements, this study is concerned with the
a °ccupation.
Cauer and Stanish suggest that “the town of
o cabana served as the regional administrative
Anth
topos 101.2006
center for the peninsula and was responsible for
guarding and controlling access to the sacred is-
lands” (2001: 216). Ramos Gavilán reinforces such
classification by noting that Copacabana had a
governor and that this governor “was of royal
blood, second only to the person of the Inca; ...
This governor dressed like the Inca with the only
difference that he wore the tassel on one side while
the Inca wore it in front” (1887: 27; translation by
the author). Martín de Muñía adds “it was known
that the Inga Wayna Kapaj had his people and
captains called and then he left for Quito, leaving
one of his brothers who had been captain and
governor before, to act in his name and on his
184
Jessica Joyce Christie
behalf; after a certain time, this brother settled
down in the village of Copacabana and married
and had children, whose descendants continue to
live in said village of Copacabana” (Murria in
Rivera Sundt 1978: 73; translation by the author).
Citing passages from Ramos Gavilán and Cristóbal
Vaca de Castro, Roberto Santos Escobar (1981)
suggests that a daughter of Wayna Qhapaq who
directed the acllawasi on the Island of the Moon
married her brother Paullu Tupaj Inca in Copaca-
bana, a union which established an important royal
descent line. Such remarks speak to the continued
importance Copacabana must have exerted on the
royal family in Cusco. Its importance continued in-
to the Colonial Period during which families from
Copacabana attempted to regain their noble social
status as well as their possessions by submitting
probanzas to the Spanish Crown in which they
tried to prove descent from the Inca royalty (Santos
Escobar 1981).
Bauer and Stanish (2001: 160) comment on the
large number of small settlements on the Island
of the Sun, more than sixty of which are less
than one hectare in size. These numbers contrast
with data from the mainland where several large
sites have been located, for example, the town of
Juli was at least 20 hectares in size during Inca
reign and Chucuito was at least 50 hectares. This
type of evidence suggests that the regional center
from which the pilgrimages were coordinated and
supervised was not situated on the islands but
on the mainland. Copacabana is the most likely
candidate because it is past the wall of Yunguyu
and according to Ramos Gavilán and Cobo, it
functioned as a major station on the pilgrimage
route.
Copacabana was the town which was populated with the
most people from different regions, who were given the
authority to guard the false Sanctuary of Titicaca. Here
the Inca (emperor) transplanted Anacuscos, Hurincus-
cos, Ingas, Chinchaisuyos, ...
The people who inhabited the island before the
Inca came were the Yunguyos who, as it has already
been said, were forced to live in the village where
they are today, after the arrival of the Inca. And in
their place, the Inca put selected persons with whom
he was satisfied and whom he trusted, as the security
of the situation required. ... As Topainga lupangue
had organized the area according to his plan and was
very satisfied with it, he ordered that some of his
family members should live here, individuals from
Cuzco who are commonly called Ingas, or Incas, so
that they would hold the other nations subject ..., in
order to protect the Sanctuary. He made Apu Inga Sucso
governor, who was the grandson of Viracocha Inga,
who was the greatgrandfather of Guaynacapac, and the
grandfather of Topainga Yupangue, because he had seen
in him value, courage, and great worth (Ramos Gavilán
1988: 84 f. [1621: Bk. 1, chap. 12]; translation by the
author).
Passages of this nature demonstrate the extraordi-
nary importance the Inca assigned to the Sanctuary
on the Island of the Sun and to Copacabana. Co-
pacabana was not treated like any regional center
in the empire but held a rank little below Cusco in
the administrative hierarchy. This unusually high
position of Copacabana within the Inca state is
reflected by parallels in the rock art. No other Inca
settlement outside the Cusco region and Urubamba
Valley exhibits such a large number of sculpted
boulders in a style very similar to the Cusco ex-
amples (Hyslop 1990; 121). It is most significant
that four of the five known and visible precontact
sites in and around Copacabana are carved rocks.
Some scholars caution to attribute the sculpted
boulders of Copacabana to the Inca (Trimborn
1967; Portugal Ortiz y Ibarra Grasso 1957).6 * * * * The
main reason I believe it is justifiable to name the
Inca as the artists of the carved rocks is the striking
similarity of style with the rock art sites in the
Cusco region (see also Arkush 1999, in press). Of
course, it is always conceivable that some of the
sculptures may have been started during Tiwanaku
times and the similarities between Tiwanaku and
Cusco carving styles have been mentioned above-
So far and to my knowledge, there has been no
archaeological report that presents solid material
evidence that the Copacabana rock art sites would
not be Inca. Until or unless such a report comes
out, I will treat the sculpted rocks as Inca works-
The best-known site within the city limits Is
Intinkala situated near the cemetery on the road to
La Paz. According to Portugal Ortiz and Ibarra
Grasso (1957:25), the Aymara spelling is Inti11
Qala and according to Aymara tradition, it was the
place “where the sun sat.” The Aymara continue
to place offerings on the rocks on June 21 whiel1
marks the beginning of their new year. The site
consists of a group of finely carved boulders. The
carvings are primarily vertical and horizontal cuts
forming platforms and seats (Fig. 1). The top °'
6 Trimborn (1967: 16) notes that he found “none or fe^
Inca potsherds” in association with the Horca del I*1 ,
or Intinkala. Portugal Ortiz and Ibarra Grasso (1957:2
claim that a careful study of the prehispanic monuments
and around Copacabana shows that they originated in ; ,
Tiwanaku period. However, they never explain what H
of study they did or the basis for their attribution.
Anthropos 101.200
Inca Copacabana
185
^ large rock displays a conspicuous canal, the
ginning of which resembles a snakehead. The
Riders are associated with several walls one of
^ ch leads into the direction of a wetland. The
f awing documents the spatial relation of all the
c^res noted on the surface (Fig. 2). In 1975,
ar>mg and excavation conducted by the Instituto
bafonal de Arqueología (INAR) uncovered walls
a ^rect^ on t^ie ™cks, traces of a paved floor,
]*97 a system of drainage canals (Rivera Sundt
c Roberto Mantilla (1972) describes some
Ved rocks at this site which he calls “Parque
Anth¡
r°Pos 101.2006
Arqueológico de Copacabana” and which I could
not identify. His site plan is at such a small scale
that it is impossible to match it up with the present
condition. A short distance further on the road to
La Paz sits a second group of smaller boulders
sculpted into seats and platforms. Local people call
this second group Orcohawira, Rio Macho, or Rio
Fuerte (Fig. 3). The cuts are straight forming full
ninety degree angles and demonstrate high quality
of craftsmanship (Fig. 4). In between the rocks is
a wetland which appears to receive water from
the higher slopes. Perhaps this water source is
186
Jessica Joyce Christie
canal
9
Q
possible bedding stones
0 12 3
Scale 1:100
N
Fig. 2: Intinkala (7/25/2002,
J. Christie and B. Garrett).
the reason why the site is referred to as “Rio.” person seated on the lower platforms and facing
These carvings were first documented by Roberto east could have observed the sun on the equinoxes
Mantilla in 1968 (Mantilla 1972). INAR as well as rising from behind a visually outstanding mountain
Elizabeth Arkush (in press) report scatters of fine formation on the horizon line. He interprets the
Inca ceramics at and around both rock art sites. upper platforms not as seats but as areas where a
Hermann Trimborn (1967: 19-23) argues that priest would have stood to greet the sun. Trimborn
the boulder with the largest number and best further thinks that Intinkala as an observatory had
executed carvings at Intinkala functioned as an a connection with the so-called Horca del Inca
observatory of the sun. He reconstructs that a located further up in the hills (see below). FronJ
0 12 3
Scale 1:100
<^-Possible footprint
Wetland
0
Fig. 3: Intinkala: Orcahawira
rig. inunKaia: rcanawua .
(6/17/2003, J. Christie and B. Garret •
Anthropos 101-2^
Inca Copacabana
187
the higher position of the Korea, sunrise would
have been observed earlier and signals might have
been passed on to the lower Intinkala station.
While the eastern orientation of the main carv-
lngs is clear, the function of carved rocks as ob-
servatories in general is difficult to prove. Trim-
orn’s interpretation is a possibility but I think
hat the carvings of the main boulder may have
een used primarily as counting devices. I have
ar§ued elsewhere (in preparation) that rock com-
PleXes with grid-like carvings which were huacas
°b ^e Cusco ceque lines did not only function as
f aces where offerings were presented and burnt
ut also as locations where such offerings were
^counted for and perhaps transcribed and record-
on quipus. Such reasoning is based on the
!Sual resemblance between rows of carved seats,
atforrns, or steps and the Inca yupana which is
stone tool with grid-like compartments which
ere used for counting purposes and into which
^ 'Pas could be translated. Each compartment or
e rved platform stood for one decimal unit and
the F0W counte^ a different object category. Thus
thr 1Tla^n houlder at Intinkala could have registered
^ e.e types of objects in quantities up to three
cirnal units (singles, tens, and hundreds). One
ob.s°n rnay have counted the items in a specific
stc|ect category while a second person placed small
the 68 °n carved platforms corresponding to
havCounted decimal units. Such a context could
jnt-e hccn the primary function of the whole site of
thr ^a'a: a very large number of pilgrims passed
O* Copacabana and they all likely brought
e type of offering for the local shrines. Pil-
Vh,
r°pos 101.2006
grims and offerings could have been counted on
the carved platforms. Further, there were numerous
storehouses in the surroundings of Copacabana.
According to Ramos Gavilán (1888; 127 [1621:
Bk. 1, chap. 20]), stored supplies were used to
provide pilgrims as well as warriors and priests
with food, drink, and clothing based on need. The
Inca must have kept track in some form of the
supplies being handed out and of new supplies
coming in most likely as tribute from subjected
villages. These counting activities may have been
conducted at Intinkala. The presence of walls -
although their full extent remains unknown - indi-
cates the creation of secluded spaces and restricted
access. While speculative, one can envision that
Intinkala was an architectural complex with carved
counting systems which served administrative and
partly ritual purposes.
It is further possible that Intinkala was the
location where the idol of Copacabana was on
display. Ramos Gavilán reports:
Among the idols in the area the most famous among the
people of Yunguyo was the idol of Copacabana, which
was later excavated by the Spanish who found it next to
two large stones, one of which was called Ticonipa and
the other Guacocho, both of which were worshipped
by the Yunguyos. Since they were poor people, they
offered their idols and stones sheep and chicha; and
when they had some gold or silver, they kept it to offer
it to the Sun or Moon. This idol Copacabana stood in the
village of the same name in the direction to Tiquina. It
could have stood near the present pantheon where there
are a number of seats carved into the stones. The idol
was of a blue and showy stone and only consisted of a
188
Jessica Joyce Christie
face, like the head of a sphinx, without feet or hands. It
looked toward Titicaca like an inferior god who looked
at the principal god ... (1887:45; translation by the
author).7
This passage is intriguing because Ramos Gavilán
suggests that the idol was placed near carved
rocks on the road to Tiquina. Today Intinkala and
Orcohawira are indeed next to the main road to
La Paz which passes through Tiquina and more
than likely represent the locations Ramos Gavilán
is referring to. However, it does not appear that
Ramos Gavilán saw the idol there himself. The
description of this idol does not match the style
of Inca sculpture and one has to conclude that it
was probably a pre-Inca work made perhaps by
the Yunguyos. Arkush (in press) proposes that it
was most likely a Formative or Tiwanaku monolith
which continued to be worshipped. Ramos Gavilán
explains (quoted above) that the Yunguyos were
the original inhabitants of Copacabana and had
been relocated by the Inca to the present town
of Yunguyu. Since idols are movable, it is well
conceivable that the Yunguyu idol was displayed
at a later Inca rock art site. Just as the idols
of conquered tribes were taken to Cusco and
exhibited in the niches of a room in the Qorikancha
which was reserved for this purpose, the idols
of subdued and relocated local groups may have
been set up in rock art shrines at Copacabana.
In this manner, the idols were taken and held
hostage by the Inca but they remained physically
close by their original owners who had likely
access to them. When the Yunguyos visited their
Copacabana idol, they would have found it inside
an Inca sanctuary. The figure of the idol and
its sculptural and architectural setting contrasted
and at the same time brought together in one
location two different ideologies visualized by two
different artistic styles. This type of stage setting
would have helped the Inca to negotiate loyalty
from the surrounding populations (see Arkush in
press).
In summary, I think the most significant aspect
of Intinkala and Orcohawira is the style of its
rock carvings and the possible use of rows of
seats/platforms as counting devices as well as the
placement of the idol. Copacabana is the only
site outside of Cusco and the Urubamba Valley
where rock sculptures in this form and number
are found, which could be interpreted as evidence
7 A very similar reference to the idol of Copacabana was
made by José Maria Camacho who likely copied from
Ramos Gavilán (see Camacho in Rivera Sundt 1978: 74).
that Copacabana was the second most important
administrative center in the empire, only below
Cusco.
On a hill above Intinkala/Orcohawira sits a site
nicknamed “Horca del Inca” (Gallows of the Inca).
According to Portugal Ortiz and Ibarra Grasso
(1957:26), local Aymara people continue to call
this hill “Seroqa” which is derived from siri oqha
and means “voice of the hung.” Such nicknames
came from the description by Ramos Gavilán:
In the seat of Copacabana, there is today a gallows
where the delinquents were punished like the principal
aggressors of this rebellion. It is located in the hill
Sirocani and it consists of a large stone slab supported
by two tall rocks where they sat the defendant. After
they had placed him there in distress, they hung him so
that the body was dangling from a rope which was tied
around one of the two tall rocks. Others they hung from
their feet and left them there to surrender their soul. The
entrance to this place of torture is an alley formed by
the two tall rocks. One of these rocks has a hole through
which a thick rope can pass. It is again the Indians who
say that they tied the hands of the delinquent, making
him hug the rock until hunger and other helpers of death
took his life. In 1618, all of us members of the convent
together with the Father Prior went to see this place
out of curiosity and we confirmed the above thing8
(1988:175 [1621: Bk. 1, chap. 28]; translation by the
author).8
The last sentence makes one wonder whether the
nickname truly is a recent invention or whether
it is based on some historical facts. It is well
conceivable that the site had multiple uses. A8
we will see quickly, scholars have focused their
attention on uses other than a place of torture.
While there are no rock sculptures at Horca
del Inca like those at Intinkala/Orcohawira, the
natural stone was clearly modified and, therefore*
this site must be included in any discussion of rock
art at Copacabana. Modifications are visible in t^0
natural stone pillars which have been cut to supp°rt
a lintel between them (Fig. 5). The bedrock at the
base of the pillars has been carved to provide the
footing for a stone wall of which only a few block8
remain. Looking through the Horca del Inca to the
west, the viewer takes in the wide blue expand
of Lake Titicaca while the view east is closed hy
natural rock formations. In the 1960s, Trimboh1
(1967: 11-16) was looking for links between №
Horca del Inca and features in the rock whicil
might have marked station points of the rising
sun. He notes that on the days sunrise could ^
8 Ramos Gavilán mentions the site of torture on the hill 0
Sirocani a second time (1988: 26 [1621; Bk. 1, chap- lU
Anthropos 101-2^
Inca Copacabana
189
observed from the Horca del Inca, it occurred
earlier than at the lower Intinkala and signals
might have been exchanged between the two sites.
The astronomical alignments of the Horca del
Inca were not fully understood until 1978, when
Oswaldo Rivera Sundt documented that a hole in
a crag to the northeast casts a well-defined spot of
light onto the center of the lintel on the morning
of the June solstice. At sunrise on the September
equinox, a crag casts a shadow on the lintel while
the vertical pillars are illuminated.9 Thus the Horca
del Inca together with this hole were devised as a
solstice marker.
One important question, which remains to be
answered, is that of chronology. The literature
generally assumes that the Horca del Inca was
an Inca site, but was this really so? Trimbom
11967: 16) reports that there were “none or very
lew Inca potsherds” (translation by the author)10 in
the areas of the Horca del Inca or Intinkala. I
think Intinkala must be attributed to the Inca
because of the rock sculptures in pure Cusco
style. The situation with the Horca del Inca is
different. Archaeological sites with natural stone
Pdlars supporting a man-made lintel do not exist in
^he Cusco region and two other Bolivian examples
rimbom illustrates strongly suggest that this type
tT monument followed a local and probably pre-
mca tradition. He understands Horca monuments
as predecessors of the Inca “intiwatana” stones and
asslgns them to the local Aymara culture, which
^as also the opinion of Henri Beuchat (1918; cited
ln Trimborn 1967: 16). While I concur with the
J^-Tnca origin of the Horca del Inca, I believe
°at the Inca continued to use it to determine
°e summer solstice and possibly as a place of
Pumshrnent. The shallow carvings in front of the
^tone pillars, which provided footing for a stone
. f constitute a regular feature at Inca rock art
p es in the Cusco area, for example, Sapantiana,
umaurqu. Furthermore, the Inca use of the Horca
j mca highlights the importance of the sun cult in
^c.a ideology. Along the pilgrimage route at Lake
^hcaca, there were thus several shrines dedicated
0 worship of the sun. The main Sanctuary
thothe Island of the Sun was one among many -
uugh it certainly held the most innate power and
jTnd the culmination of the pilgrimage route.
,Un am°S Gavilan sPeaks of another shrine of the
ln the town of Copacabana:
?9RCr and Stanish 2001:207-209;Rivera Sundt 1978:79 f->
1q A jh Arkush in press.
his observations contradict those made by INAR
^Pparently ms ooservauons comracnc
less than ten years later (see above).
Vh
roPos 101.2006
Fig. 5: Stone pillars of Horca del Inca.
In the town of Copacabana, one can see today houses
or seats of the Sun and Moon, the celestial bodies
they worshipped as principal deities. Where today the
convent stands, one can still see a few remnants of
the famous buildings of cut stone, which was a house
dedicated to the Sun. There were two very fierce looking
stone lions, and two condors or vultures [buytres] which
had been placed near a curious building, where they say
was a handmade tank where the Inca relaxed and bathed.
Since it was the first station coming from Yunguyo, the
pilgrims came here first. After they had worshipped the
Sun, they sank to their knees and gave reverence to
those animals whose figures one sees today even though
they have deteriorated over time. After the pilgrims had
rested for one or two days, they continued on to the great
temple of the Sun on the Island Titicaca ... (1988: 171 f.
[1621: Bk. 1, chap. 28]; translation by the author).
It is very difficult to match this important shrine
with a recorded archaeological site. Since Ramos
Gavilán indicates that it was situated “where today
the convent stands,” it is likely that its foundations
lie underneath the church of the Virgin of Copaca-
bana. This would be consistent with the general
Christian Catholic practice of building churches on
190
Jessica Joyce Christie
top of pagan sanctuaries.11 It obviously makes any
reconstruction of the earlier sacred places nearly
impossible. A second possibility is that Ramos
Gavilán may have used the term “convent” in
reference to the church structures at the foot of
Calvario hill. I speculate that some kind of reli-
gious building stood in this location ever since the
Via Crucis was built in colonial times. However,
there are no known prehistoric structures in this
immediate location only further up on the hill
adjacent to Calvario.
Of interest is the reference to the “handmade
tank where the Inca relaxed and bathed.” This
description appears to match a prehistoric monu-
ment known as “Baño del Inca” and situated in
the former Hacienda Kusijata a couple of kilo-
meters to the north of Copacabana. According to
Javier Escalante Moscoso (1997: 371), the Hacien-
da Kusijata was built over the foundations of an
Inca palace to which the Baño del Inca belonged.
Rivera Sundt (1978; 82) reinforces that the roy-
al family lived there for which the Department
of Ethnohistory of INAR has evidence. Only the
Baño was documented by Squier (1877) in the
19th century and by Trimbom in the 1960s. This
monument consists of a large and open cylindrical
basin which was carved out of a single piece of
rock and now exists freestanding in the garden of
Kusijata. The inner surface is highly polished and
the edge is recessed. There are two semicircular
gaps in its edge to accommodate canals which
served to fill it with water. Today one canal is
connected and maintains water in the Baño, which
is then diverted to fields. Trimborn (1967: 29-31)
reproduced Squier’s drawing and added a plan and
section view produced by his team.
The problem is that the location of the Baño
at Kusijata does not match the description of the
Sun Temple with the tank by Ramos Gavilán. A
drawing and observation by Charles Wiener who
visited Copacabana in the late 19th century add
more spice to this discussion;
On top of the hill Llallagua [?], at the foot of which
are the church and convent of Copacabana, one finds
galleries similar to those we have encountered at Ro-
dadero [outskirts of Cusco] with the difference that there
where the granite blocks formed continuous sections,
the ancient architects have brought other blocks which
they have placed on top of the first ones after they had
carefully sculpted and polished them. The bath facilities,
11 Mantilla (1972; 68 f.) includes a historical reference which
states that on the site where the church of the Virgen of
Copacabana stands today had indeed been an Inca Sanctu-
ary where pagan sacrifices were conducted.
Baño del Inca, are admirably preserved and still today
the water falls through three openings into a basin with
gravel (1880: 438; translation by the author).
Wiener includes a drawing of the three waterspouts
which are surrounded by walls and release the
water into a basin which may have been cut into
the bedrock. Obviously Wiener talks about a Baño
del Inca that is different from the well-known
one located at Kusijata. I have never seen the
one he depicts and have not found references
by other writers and Wiener’s Baño del Inca
may not exist anymore. However, the location
Wiener gives (“the top of the hill Llallagua [?1
at the foot of which are the church and convent
of Copacabana”) raises a number of questions:
is this location the same as Ramos Gavilán’5
for the Temple of the Sun with the Inca bath
(“where today the convent stands”)? Of course,
one has to keep in mind that Wiener’s report
was written more than 200 years after Ramos
Gavilán’s and both writings were likely colored by
personal experiences and subjective preferences-
Excavations at the precontact site on the hill of
Llallagua (?) next to Calvario might shed more
light on this issue.
This hill Llallagua is mentioned several time5
by Ramos Gavilán. His spelling varies slightly
(Llallagua, Llallinaco) but I suspect he is refer'
ring to the same hill which corresponds today
with the Calvario and the slightly lower hill with
the precontact structure immediately adjacent to
it (Fig. 6).12 As the visitor climbs up along the
cross stations, he or she arrives at a platform wher£
the path turns in the direction of the center
Copacabana and winds up to the top of the hu
occupied by the large Christian sanctuary. FroU1
the opposite site of the platform, a small trai
leads up a second and lower hill the top of which
is covered with Pre-Columbian stone foundation5-
Local people call this hill the Calvario of Sa*1'
ta Bárbara. A surface investigation revealed wf
low walls of a rectangular platform with round'
ed corners facing toward the Christian sanctuary-
12 The following is the description of another event
held
Llallagua. The fact that Ramos Gavilán places it close
the lake reinforces the identification with the Calvario h
“In the seat of Copacabana, at the hill called Llalli
where one sees today the hermitage of Santa Bárb ’
at the foot of which we descend to the lake in fr°nt^
Pomata, there was an enclosure which they called Tag1)
ouyo. There they collected the chosen virgins destine
be sacrificed and for the time being, they put then1^
beautifully adorned boats. They took them where one ^
to do the blood sacrifice for the Sun or Moon" (Ra
Gavilán 1988: 125 f. [1621: Bk. 1, chap. 19]).
Anthropos 101.20°
Inca Copacabana
191
Natural rock outcrops seem to be integrated into
rear façade of this platform. In June 2003,
^ne prominent rock was covered with flowers and
umt offerings. Like the first and lower platform
the main trail, this location is a popular place
0r shamans to come and perform their rites. The
area is littered with burnt remains and sherds
contemporary ceramic vessels and censers,
blowever, the ceremonies on the lower platform
fre public and continue all day as long as someone
. lres a shaman. Three to four shamans sit behind
individual altar tables and visitors pay them to
^°nduct certain rituals for their well-being. I have
ever observed any ceremony in progress on the
Pfler platform. This and the more isolated location
a °u^ suggest that the prehispanic platform is
more secluded and private place today where
es and offerings of a nonpublic nature are being
anH °rrtled' * understand this platform in a striking
Cfl . Meaningful opposition to the higher elevated
Coristian sanctuary and most importantly, people
rrhnue to worship in both locations.
cj What the Inca did on the platform is far less
ar' The existing literature, and this includes
ov S et^n°historic sources, seems to have skipped
tyi r dûs site. However, I found two references
Peak ma^ talking about the two Calvario
hill rS' ^ax Portugal Ortiz (n.d.: 21) describes the
tow L a^awa where the principal Calvario of the
er ^ Copacabana is located. He cites another writ-
tall fl° Saw a tapering stone pillar, about 3.50 m
ed ’ which was crowned by a flat and round-
ly. °ne which exhibited a cavity at its center.
§al Ortiz further mentions a stone block
Vh
roPos 101.2006
called Such-suna which was used in folkloric rites.
Both stones have since disappeared but it is likely
that they were originally associated with the Pre-
Columbian site on the lower Calvario hill. In addi-
tion, there is one passage by Ramos Gavilán which
may be talking about the hill with the platform:
At certain festivities, each ayllu and lineage gathered
their thirteen to fourteen-year-old boys in a public place
and in full public view, they whipped their legs, arms,
and hands with leather slings until blood appeared. After
that, the chief reprimanded them about their pranks
and advised them that they were no longer boys but
young men who now had to occupy themselves with
community affairs and service to the Inca. Then they
cut their hair and placed them in groups of two or three
in a flat area near the lake. At a certain signal, they
had to race up the road to the top of the hill, which
has the name LLALLINACO because of this game [the
present Calvario hill], where the judges were waiting to
reward or punish. The prize for the first one to arrive at
the goal was a canipo [a type of silver patenita] which
they put on their llautos [llautos are the tassels which
hung from the headdresses of Inca royalty and highest
nobility]; or a chuspa made of Cumbi cloth, which are
very interesting bags in which they carry coca leaves.
These bags are so valuable that only the upper elite can
use them. And the participants in these state-sponsored
games had to be of the noble class; because later the
Inca gave them high government positions, making them
captains and governors, and their ears were pierced as a
sign of nobility. But the ones who wore themselves out
in the race, were scolded by their parents and neighbors.
They were shamed with hurtful words and with more
whipping; they were given low service jobs benefiting
those who had punished them (1887: 33 f.; translation
and italics by the author).
192
Jessica Joyce Christie
I propose that the precontact platform with the
rounded comers could have marked the endpoint
of the races where the runners were rewarded or
punished and that its hill was Llallinaco. A similar
event seems to have taken place in Cusco. Pe-
dro de Cieza de Leon (1959; 34 f. [1554: II, VII])
states that Ayar Cachi appeared to his brothers
on the hill of Huanacauri and gave instructions
of how puberty rites for young noble men and
preparatory accession ceremonies for Inca mlers
were to be conducted. In one episode of the acces-
sion procedures, the prospective ruler had to run
up “a hill known as Anaguar” so that onlookers
could see how fast he was and how brave he would
be in war. The similarity and context of these
state-sponsored competitions, the interest the Inca
ruler took in them and the high awards he gave out,
further reinforce the superior role and privileged
position Copacabana held in Inca politics.
There are a number of complex rock art sites
located in the environs of Copacabana. Most in-
triguing is Copacati, a carved rock complex situ-
ated on a steep, rocky hill near the road between
Copacabana and Kasani, the Bolivian border sta-
tion (Fig. 7). Carvings are distributed on various
levels of altitude. As one approaches the site, the
Inca Copacabana
193
Vlsitor passes a single, slightly rounded triangular
Seat below a pictograph portraying red geometric
Patterns (Fig. 8). I have designated this portion
°f the site the Lower Sector. Triangular carvings
are unknown in the Cusco region but abound at
aruaipata in the southeast of Bolivia. Thus tri-
ari§ular seats may be a stylistic feature that de-
^eloped in Collasuyu, in sites to the southeast of
usco which are now in Bolivia. Porfirio Huan-
Ca Sanchez, the vigilante at Copacati, offered an
^resting interpretation of this carving. He sug-
§^sted that an idol was placed upon it and people
, °uld have knelt in four depressions in the rock
e °w the triangular carving to worship it. Porfirio
j he grew up at Copacati and has learned a
about Aymara history and traditions from his
audfather. While his interpretations may reflect
yuiara beliefs but not necessarily historical and
^ Ideological facts as we Westerners define them,
^ave P°^nte(^ out a Possihle location of
p ^ Copacati idol (see below). The arrangement of
fo emS *n t^ie pict°graph consists of red squares
truing the stepped design of a Southern Cross
lj lch is divided in two halves by two straight
aUfiSh ^ ^aS ^een ^kened to l*16 Collasuyu flag
n Pence the painting as well as the whole site of
PictCati ^ave he611 nicknamed “Banderani.” The
Uot °^raPh is most likely not Inca because it was
Ls an lnca custom to paint on rocks (see also
alante Moscoso 1997: 371).13
ro r °n^ *nca Pict°graPh I know of is situated on a high
a "'all near the entrance to Ollantaytambo. It represents
&Ure and overlooks the main road coming from Cusco.
Vh
r°pos 101.2006
Further uphill, there are two important features
and a number of walls which I tried to identify as
well as they can be observed on the surface without
excavations. The first feature is a rectangular stone
block with three carved steps descending from
both upper corners (Fig. 9). According to Porfirio,
this carved rock marked one of the gates at which
visitors had to confess and repent before they were
allowed to enter Copacati. While this idea sounds
highly speculative to the Western scholar, it is
reminiscent of the three gateways visitors had to
pass on the Island of the Sun before reaching
the Sanctuary of the Sacred Rock. The second
feature is a large crude stone which Porfirio calls
an “altar.” It is overgrown by a thick bush and
only partly sticks out of the ground so that no
further conclusions can be drawn without excava-
tions.14
A series of seat-like carvings are situated fur-
ther up along the foot of the steep outcrop. Porfirio
pointed to a rounded depression in the wall above
the upper seat and explained that during the rainy
season in February and March water seeps out of
this depression, trickles down the carvings, and
collects in a crude canal which terminates in three
deep cavities (Fig. 10). While there was no water
coming out in June 2003, water stains on the rocks
confirmed Porfirio’s statements. Most intriguingly,
he referred to a small and shallow square carving
14 Sergio Chavez is working at Copacati and will produce a
more detailed plan than mine and provide excavation data
(personal com. 2003). Thus new information is forthcoming
and our understanding of Copacati may continue to change.
194
Jessica Joyce Christie
on the lowest step, which is clearly defined by
four ridges (Fig. 11), and said that once another
idol in the form of a monolith stood there, facing
Lake Titicaca. While there is only the formal
evidence of the square depression to substantiate
his interpretation, it identifies a second possible
location for the Copacati idol (see below). Further
along but still at midlevel altitude, Porfirio showed
us a number of rounded cavities in the rock,
forming a crude design of the Southern Cross.
Porfirio explained that his ancestors would fill
these holes with water from the upper source (see
below) and observe the reflection of the night sky
to make prognostications about the agricultural
seasons. These depressions look very smooth and
I suspect they are the result of water erosion and
are not man-made.
From here the trail leads straight up to the top
which forms two peaks. Between these peaks, a
small stream trickles downhill. It irrigates a series
of cultivated terraces (Fig. 12), forms two canals
on one level, and collects in a deep depression on
a lower level before it runs down the cliff wall-
As it neatly divides the two peaks, I speculate
that perhaps the Inca understood the two peak5
as a Hanan-Hurin division while they used the
Inca Copacabana
site. Porfirio’s grandfather told him that above the
terraces on the ridge between the two peaks, there
Were at one time 12 structures. The stones of such
buildings were reused to create and delineate the
agricultural fields. If this proved true, then it would
probably have been the only settlement at Copacati
where a number of people may have lived. On
the other hand, Escalante Moscoso (1997: 371 —
373) has suggested that the settlement associated
with Copacati was Pasankallani situated to the
east. According to Porfirio, a number of man-
made cave-like openings above Copacati are called
Pasankallani.
The largest number and technically most superb
carvings can be found on top of the two peaks.
On the higher peak, there is a group of seat-like
carvings (Fig. 13). I believe the most important
features of rock art are the two levels of finely
cat platforms and shallow planes forming what the
naked eye perceives as 90° angles (Fig. 14). These
are examples which closely match the prototypes
ln the Cusco region, such as the so-called Throne
°f the Inca at Saqsawaman. I think that all or
s°me of the platforms arranged in small grids were
n°t only places where offerings were deposited
but where such offerings were also counted (see
mtinkala above).
On the lower or Hurin peak, more seat-like
carvings, steps, platforms, and shallow planes pro-
need by vertical and horizontal cuts can be found.
°rne of them are composed in rough grid pat-
erns and may have been used for counting pur-
ges; others may have served as seats desig-
ned for supervisors and authorities (Fig. 15).
195
Fig. 12: Cultivated terrace.
Along the edge of the outcrop toward the present
road, there are two parallel rows of shallow rect-
angular carvings providing footing for two rings
ings * Group of seat-like carv-
5tuhr
r
196
Jessica Joyce Christie
of walls (Fig. 16). While we can only guess the
height of these walls, they would have concealed
the carvings from public view. The road is, of
course, a modern construction, but it closely fol-
lows the ancient pilgrimage route. I think that
the protective walls of Copacati addressed the pil-
grims, restricted access, and carried the statement
that the space it defined was only for those who
had obtained special permission.
Copacati has been reported on by Portugal
Zamorra (1977), Rivera Sundt (1978), Escalante
Moscoso (1997), and Arkush (in press). Escalante
Moscoso (1997; 371-373) connects Copacati with
the site of Pasankallani about 200 meters to the
east (see above). Pasankallani exhibits the remains
of dwellings where the people who attended to
Copacati may have lived. Furthermore, Ramos Ga-
vilán mentions Copacati in the context of an idol
which must have been similar to the Copacabana
idol discussed above:
Besides the idol Copacabana, the Yunguyos had another
one which they called Copacati whose name maintains
the hill on which it stood and one can still see remains
of steps in this place. The idol was also of stone and
had a most evil appearance, all wrapped by snakes like
the statue of Laocoon. They prayed to it for rain in
periods of drought. Father Almeida had this idol hauled
into the village, and as he had it in the plaza in front of
many people, one saw a snake come out of it. This event
served Father Cura to shame them that they would have
worshipped such a vile creature. In addition to these
idols which functioned like communal gods, there were
innumerable others ...
Somewhat similar to the one at Copacati was another
idol which Father Diego Garcia Cuadrado found in
1619 between Juli and Llave. It was of stone, three
and a half varas tall, it had two faces like a Janus
(Jano), but one face was male and the other female,
with two snakes which climbed its legs, and on the
head was a very large frog which formed the head-
dress. The idol was situated on a hill called Tucumu
facing the lake. They worshipped it on a large stone
block like the god of food (1887: 45 f.; translation by
the author).15
Ramos Gavilán’s description of the location of the
Copacati idol is so specific that he mentions the
rock carvings. There can be little doubt that one
of the functions of the Copacati rock sculptures
was to serve as a setting for this idol and Porfirio
Huanca Sanchez may have identified its location(s)
(see above). Ramos Gavilán speaks of various
15 A very similar reference to the idol of Copacati was made
by José María Camacho who likely copied from Ramos
Gavilán (in Rivera Sundt 1978: 74).
Fig. 14: Two levels of finely cut platforms and shallow planeS
forming 90° angles.
stones and rocks in the context of the Copacabana
and Tucumu idols so that it appears that rock ad
sites often accommodated idols. As for the cultura
affiliation of the idols, their description does not
fit the style of Inca sculpture. Portugal Zam°ra
(1977:301) and Arkush (in press)16 suggest that
the description rather corresponds to Formative 01
Tiwanaku Period stone monoliths.17 Karen Moh1
Chavez (2001) and Sergio Chavez (2002) have de
fined a religious tradition which they name “Yaya
Mama” and which began to unify the population5
on the shores of Lake Titicaca between 600 and
B.C. One identifier of Yaya-Mama is a particul
iconography which is manifested on stelae foUl1
at Taraco and Chiripa. These sculpted stone sla
exhibit low-relief images of abstracted anthrop^
morphs surrounded by snakes and single hen -
16 Arkush (in press) favors a Formative date because
snake iconography. I concur that images of serpents
abound in Tiwanaku sculpture.
17 The comments and suggestions made in reference
Copacabana idol apply here as well.
ofthc;
do
to*6
101.2006
Anthropos
Inca Copacabana
197
Wlth ray-like appendages. One of the Yaya-Mama
Sltes, Ch’isi, is located on the Copacabana penin-
sula (see Mohr Chavez 2001). Thus Yaya-Mama
demography fits well Ramos Gavilán’s description
the idols and Yaya-Mama examples existed in
e vicinity of Copacabana.18 Whether the Co-
Pacati idol dated to the Formative or Tiwanaku
eri°ds, the scenario is that a pre-Inca idol was
11 display at an Inca rock art site. It is not clear
hether the Inca or the people from Yunguyu
0j°ved the idol to Copacati, but the coexistence
• ^nca carvings and an older idol shows a strik-
e ^ degree of cooperation between two differ-
religious traditions and ideologies (Arkush in
JJSs)- Arkush (in press) raises the question of
0 Worshipped at Copacati: according to Ramos
(iQ0t^er Possibility has been outlined by Teresa Gisbert
oj, 628). She implies that Ramos Gavilán’s description
0j,llle idols may have been tinted by European conceptions
Lucifer as the eternal serpent. She includes a striking
Presentation of the wind god Typhoon wrapped by ser-
an^ts and his fingers turning into serpents (1997: Figs. 5
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
Gavilán, the Copacabana and Copacati idols be-
longed to and were worshipped by the Yunguyos
who were the original inhabitants of the Copaca-
bana peninsula and had been relocated to the town
of Yunguyu by the Inca. They are described as
being so poor that they could not offer gold or sil-
ver to their local idols (Ramos Gavilán 1988: 191
[1621: Bk. 1, chap. 32]). This scenario of local
nonelites worshipping at an Inca site appears to
be strikingly different from the situation on the
Island of the Sun where all pilgrims were carefully
screened and only the privileged were permitted
to approach the main Sanctuary of the Sun (see
Arkush in press). I hold it for most likely that
the Inca relocated the idol to Copacati after they
subjected the Yunguyos and probably restricted
access to it.
Another possible function of Copacati had to
do with the counting of pilgrims and their offer-
ings. As explained above and elsewhere (Christie
in preparation), the sculpted rows of seats, plat-
forms, or steps might have functioned as counting
devices or yupanas into which a quipu could be
translated. Given the fact that Copacati overlooks
198
Jessica Joyce Christie
the pilgrimage route and is situated very near the
first control station at Yunguyu, it is reasonable to
argue that activities of accounting could have been
carried out here. Inca administrators would have
been interested in keeping records of how many
pilgrims passed through and what kind and how
many offerings they carried. Not all the carvings,
only rows of seats or platforms could have served
this purpose. The evidence of footing for two walls
at Copacati implies that activities of this nature
were considered private or matters of the state and
concealed from public view.
Discussion and Conclusions
The foregoing analysis highlights the extraordinary
importance the town of Copacabana held in Inca
politics and ideology. Since very few precontact
architectural remains survive in Copacabana, rock
art is the major material evidence of its elevated
position. The style of the rock sculpture is most
similar to rock art in the Cusco area. The vertical
and horizontal cuts creating geometric volumes
and masses identify the characteristic Inca style
and many authors have seen it as an indicator of
the presence of the Inca state.19
Van de Guchte (1990:406, illus. 2) included a
map illustrating the spatial distribution of carved
rocks in Tawantinsuyu. This map makes clear how
selective Inca rock art sites were: with Cusco in
the center, exhibiting the largest number of stone
sculptures, the Lake Titicaca region and Samaipata
mark the southeastern boundary while Ingapirca
and Pambamarca denote the northwestern frontier.
Very few sites are situated in between. One im-
portant site with carved rocks missing from van
de Guchte’s map is Pumaurqu, the origin place
located to the south of Cusco in Cuntisuyu. The
geographical layout of the carved rocks and sculpt-
ed boulders appears to emphasize places situated
far away from Cusco in the north and south. Since
there are no obvious geological factors, which
would have influenced the selection of rock art
sites, their layout was likely conditioned by ideo-
logical reasons. As outlined above, the two major
sites in the south, Pumaurqu and Copacabana/
Island of the Sun, were the Inca origin places.
Pumaurqu is located in an area that is not particu-
larly attractive in an economic sense; Copacabana
and the Island of the Sun are situated in a region
that was hotly contested between the Inca and local
19 Van de Guchte 1990:228, 346; Arkush in press; Hyslop
1990: 102-128.
Aymara-speaking cultures. In both cases, the Inca
integrated the sites by conquest and by overlaying
their creation mythology and sculpting the local
rocks. Copacabana/Island of the Sun were physi-
cally connected to Cusco by a well-known pilgrim-
age route. It is conceivable that the Inca perceived
the physical and ideological links between Cusco
and these outlying rock art sites as an expanded
ceque system that took its origin in Cusco. As Inca
territory grew through conquest, they expanded the
sacred landscape as defined in and around Cusco
throughout the empire.
One critical element in the Inca definition of
sacred landscape were the sculpted rocks. As ex-
plained and discussed elsewhere (Christie in prepa-
ration), the typical Inca carving style emphasiz-
ing verticals and horizontals and forming stepped
patterns replicates terraces: agricultural terraces
which grew food for the Inca but also mirror the
dialogue between man and nature in the way the
Inca modified the natural mountain slopes; and the
narrow nonagricultural terraces which reinforce
places with huacas and make them sacred, and
a similar sacredness would have been shared by
the carved rocks. The sculptures were executed u1
stone which is the substance of mountains who, n1
turn, constitute the towering vertical axis of the
cosmos in the Andes. As we have seen, stone,
mountains, and rock art were tied to the origins of
the Inca and sanctified and legitimized Inca rulef'
ship as well as linking it to the agricultural domain-
From this perspective, it would seem politically
astute to mark Inca territory with carved rocks and
sculpted boulders which symbolized Inca origin8’
presence as well as the relation between state
and natural world with a specific Inca art stylo-
At the same time, the definition of an Andean
sacred landscape was not new to Inca subjects-
Andean peoples had always revered their mourn
tains, looked upon them as communication chafl'
nels between the vertical divisions of the cosmo8’
and found ways to integrate and replicate then1
in their living spaces; for example, the compleX
underground galleries and their rituals uses at the
Early Horizon center Chavin de Huàntar and the
Akapana at Tiwanaku which was meant to reci'e^
ate a specific mountain by means of sophisticate
water channels during the Middle Horizon. Wh
was new in the Inca definition of sacred landscape
I argue, were the rocks carved in a Cusco-centete
style. Concurring with Arkush (in press), I sugge
that Inca administrators took into considerati
local belief structures and understandings of ^
ture, even regional and pre-Inca idols (see the L
pacabana and Copacati idols above), but oveda
,2006
Anthropos
101
Inca Copacabana
199
them with a specific Inca language written in stone
that signaled the origin of Inca dynasties and their
power sources.
There is preliminary evidence that extended
ceque lines marked by foregrounded rocks and
other huacas existed in many parts of the empire.
Van de Guchte (1990: 228) and Ken Heffernan
(1996: 26 f.) trace such a line going from Cus-
co straight to the west. Inca sites with carved
rocks, which lie either on or near this line, are
Inca Moqomallinan above Zurite, Quilla Rumi,
Choquechurqo near Tilka Mountain, Saihuite, Vil-
cashuaman, and Huaytara. If extended further
Westwards, it would reach the coast near the Inca-
modified site of La Centinela at Chincha. While
there are no known ethnohistoric or ethnographic
data which would shine light on such conspicu-
as alignments, I don’t think they happened by
accident. Chroniclers such as Polo de Ondegardo
and Cristóbal de Albornoz (both cited by Heffer-
nan 1996: 23) talk about ceque systems outside
°f Cusco but no other shrine system similar to
that in Cusco has ever been documented. While
speculative, the effort to expand sacred geography
as defined in and around Cusco to the confines of
me empire seems consistent with Inca state ideol-
°gy. Ceque lines could be conceptual - while still
marked by historically verifiable shrines - as many
°I the Cusco lines appear to have been; or they
c°uld be actual physical pathways to be walked
°n in pilgrimages and processions. Some of the
^°mpletely straight and linear Nasca lines have
een explained as ritual walkways (Reinhard 1992:
^5-297; Silverman 1993); during the capacocha
^eremony, Inca officials from the provinces fol-
ded straight trails to Cusco to bring their offer-
mgs and returned along the same routes (McEwan
and van de Guchte 1992); in traditional highland
milages, people continue to walk along straight
mes in ritual processions (Reinhard 1992: 295,
9). Heffernan (1996: 29 f.) presents evidence
°m the ethnographic literature that the expanded
estern ceque line played a role in the citua and
CQPucocha ceremonies as described by Molina,
^uidema (cited by Heffernan 1996: 27 and van
Guchte 1990:228) has outlined another long-
t . tance ceque departing from Huanacauri moun-
yln near Cusco to the southeast, following the
cañota River to its source at Vilcanota (today
^ own as La Raya) Pass, and continuing on to
*^anaku and Copacabana. This ritual line must
e closely paralleled the aforementioned pil-
route from Cusco to the Island of the Sun
(2Qna^e Titicaca. Arkush (in press) and Stanish
273 f.) have documented numerous sculpted
Anth
r°P0s 101.2006
rocks and small outcrops situated on or near this
main road. The most accessible is the nicknamed
“Inca’s Chair” which sits right next to the present
highway near Santiago Chambilla, between Have
and Juli. It is a modest-sized sandstone outcrop
carved into vertical and horizontal planes which
form seat-like formations and a vertical channel;
the top can be accessed by cut steps. George Squier
(1877: 350) described and illustrated this site but
makes it look more complex than it truly is. He
explains the carvings as the “resting-place of the
Inca” (350) where the Inca ruler would stop during
his travels for local people to come and bring him
chicha. If the modem road indeed perpetuates the
Inca pilgrimage route, then Squier’s interpretation
may not be that far-fetched and chicha offerings
might have been poured into the channel. An-
other rock art site near the highway and only a
few kilometers from the Inca’s Chair is Altarani
which displays three carved planes with a central
T-shaped niche framed by two grooves (Stanish
2003: 274 f.; Arkush in press). The final destina-
tion of this southeastern extended ceque line was
Copacabana and the rock Sanctuary on the Island
of the Sun. I speculate that the Inca devised similar
long-distance ceque lines between Cusco and the
origin place at Pumaurqu/Pacaritambo, Cusco and
Samaipata in Bolivia, a gigantic rock art site at
the outer border of Antisuyu as well as between
Cusco and important northern sites at Cajamarca
and in Ecuador.
In sum, Copacabana was not just one ceque
terminal and regional center like any other but
one of the most important with a status perhaps
slightly below that of Cusco. While the architec-
ture and layout of Inca Copacabana remains poorly
understood, we can conclude this from the number,
style, and possible functions of its carved rocks, its
location as endpoint of a long-distance ceque and
major pilgrimage route, and its strategic position
within the pilgrimage system. Numbers and style
of the Copacabana sculpted rocks relate it closely
to Cusco but its tentative functions likely took
into consideration local histories and traditions by
accommodating pre-Inca idols and perhaps huacas
while overlaying upon them a specifically Inca for-
mal language and stone ideology calculated by the
state. The extended ceque line which culminated
at Copacabana, again, was more prestigious than
most others because it led to the origin place of the
Sun and his direct descendants, the first Inca rulers
Manco Capac and Mama Ocllo. While Pumaurqu
was the specific origin site of the Inca dynasty, the
latter may have been more private. Copacabana
and the Sanctuary on the Island of the Sun were
200
Jessica Joyce Christie
clearly public places and known to all Andean peo-
ples. This is why it was so important for the Inca
government to coopt this pan-Andean site and they
materialized and visualized Inca ideology through
the style of the carved rocks. As discussed above,
the concepts and the form of Inca stone ideology
ultimately led back to the emergence of the first
rulers from the underworld and thus sanctified and
legitimized their right to govern.
Given this symbolically so powerful back-
ground of Copacabana, it comes as no surprise that
Inca sovereigns in the capital did all they could to
facilitate Copacabana’s role to maintain and con-
trol the pilgrimage system. Based on the accounts
of Ramos Gavilán and Bernabé Cobo, Copacabana
had storehouses full of supplies to be given to
pilgrims in need. Copacabana had a Sun temple
and possibly a royal palace. Tupa Inca Yupanqui
relocated people from 42 nations to the Copaca-
bana area and put them in charge of overseeing the
pilgrimages. Further, he ordered individuals from
the royal panacas of Cusco to reside in Copacabana
and he appointed a grandson of Viracocha Inca
governor (Ramos Gavilán 1988: 84 f. [1621: Bk. 1,
chap. 12]). The Lake Titicaca region remained an
Inca stronghold until the arrival of the Spaniards,
and ritual practices institutionalized by the Inca
continued well into the Colonial Period. To this
day, Aymara people hold their New Year celebra-
tions at Horca del Inca and Intinkala on June 21.
References Cited
Arkush, Elizabeth
1999 Pilgrims and Emperors. Small Inca Ceremonial Sites
in the Southwest Lake Titicaca Basin, Peru. [Paper
presented at the 64th Annual Meeting of the Society
for American Archaeology, Chicago]
In press Inca Ceremonial Sites in the Southwest Titicaca
Basin. In: C. Stanish, A. Cohen, and M. Aldenderfer
(eds.), Advances in the Archaeology of the Titicaca
Basin. Los Angeles: Cotsen Institute of Archaeology
at UCLA.
Bauer, Brian S., and Charles Stanish
2001 Ritual and Pilgrimage in the Ancient Andes. The Islands
of the Sun and the Moon. Austin; University of Texas
Press.
Boero Rojo, Hugo, у Sonia de Boero Rojo
1987 El Imperio del Sol. La Paz: Editorial Hispania.
Chavez, Sergio
2002 Identification of the Camelid Woman and Feline Man.
Themes, Motifs, and Designs in Pucara Style Pottery.
In: H. Silverman and W. Isbell (eds.), Andean Archae-
ology II. Art, Landscape, and Society; pp. 35-69. New
York: Kluwer Academic; Plenum Publishers.
Christie, Jessica J.
In prep. The Carved Rocks of the Inca.
Cieza de León, Pedro de
1959 The Incas of Pedro Cieza de León. Translated by Harriet
de Onis and edited by Victor Wolfgang von Hagen.
Norman; University of Oklahoma Press. [1553]
Cobo, Bernabé
1956 Historia del Nuevo Mundo. Book 12. Edited by Luis
Pardo and Carlos Galimberti Miranda. Cuzco. [1653]
1990 Inca Religion and Customs. Translated and edited by
Roland Hamilton. Austin: University of Texas Press.
[Translation of Historia del Nuevo Mundo, 1653]
D’Altroy, Terence
2002 The Incas. Malden: Blackwell Publishers.
Escalante Moscoso, Javier F.
1997 Arquitectura prehispánica en los Andes bolivianos. La
Paz; Producción Cima.
Gisbert, Teresa
1997 Angeles y dioses en Copacabana. In: R. Varón Gabai
y J. Flores Espinoza (eds.), Arqueología, antropología e
historia en los Andes. Homenaje a María Rostworowski,
pp. 617-641. Lima: Instituto de Estudios Peruanos,
Banco Central de Reserva del Péru.
Heffernan, Ken
1996 The Mitimaes of Tilka and the Inca Incorporation of
Chinchaysuyu. Tawantinsuyu 2: 23-36.
Hyslop, John
1990 Inca Settlement Planning. Austin: University of Texas
Press.
McEwan, Colin, and Maarten van de Guchte
1992 Ancestral Time and Sacred Space in Inca State Ritual-
In: R. Townsend (ed.), The Ancient Americas. Art ft0111
Sacred Landscapes; pp. 359-371. Chicago: Art Instituí6
of Chicago; Munich: Prestel Verlag.
Mantilla, Roberto
1972 Arquitectura rupestre en Copacabana. Arte y Arque
ología 2: 61-69.
Mohr Chavez, Karen
2001 La culture Chiripa. Dossiers dArchéologie 262: 24--2
Portugal Ortíz, Max
n. d. Proyecto de trabajo arqueológico en la península de U
pacabana. [Manuscript in the Archives of the Institu
Nacional de Arqueología, La Paz]
Portugal Ortíz, Max, y Dick Edgar Ibarra Grasso
1957 Copacabana. El santuario y la arqueología de la penl1^
sula e islas del Sol y la Luna. Cochabamba: Edit°rl
Atlantic.
Portugal Zamora, Maks e¡l
1977 Estudio arqueológico de Copacabana. Arqueólogo
Bolivia y Péru 2: 285-323.
Ramos Gavilán, Alonso
1887 Historia de Copacabana y de la milagrosa imagerl ^
su virgin. Edited by Rafael Sans. Lima: Impresa P
J. Enrique del Campo.
Anthropos 101-20®
Inca Copacabana
201
1988 Historia del Santuario de Nuestra Señora de Copaca-
bana. Transcripción, nota del editor e indices de Ignacio
Prado Pastor. Lima: Edición Ignacio Prado. [1621]
Reinhard, Johan
1992 Interpreting Nazca Lines. In: R. Townsend (ed.), The
Ancient Americas. Art from Sacred Landscapes; pp.
291-301. Chicago: Art Institute of Chicago; Munich:
Prestel Verlag.
Rivera Sundt, Oswaldo
1978 Arqueología de la Península de Copacabana. Puma-
punku 12:69-86.
1984 La horca del Inca. Arqueología Boliviano 1: 91-101.
Salles-Reese, Veronica
1997 From Viracocha to the Virgin of Copacabana. Austin:
University of Texas Press.
Santos Escobar, Roberto
1981 Probanza de los Incas Aukaylli de Copacabana (1619—
1716). [Manuscript in the Instituto Nacional de Arque-
ología, La Paz]
Silverman, Heiaine
1993 Cahuachi in the Ancient Nasca World. Iowa City:
University of Iowa Press.
Squier, Ephraim George
1877 Peru. Incidents of Travel and Exploration in the Land
of the Incas. New York: Harper and Brothers.
Stanish, Charles
2003 Ancient Titicaca. Berkeley: University of California
Press.
Trimborn, Hermann
1967 Archäologische Studien in den Kordilleren Boliviens
III. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag.
Urton, Gary
1999 Inca Myths. Austin: British Museum Press; University
of Texas Press.
van de Guchte, Maarten J. D.
1990 “Carving the World.” Inca Monumental Sculpture and
Landscape. [Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Depart-
ment of Anthropology, University of Illinois, Urbana-
Champaign]
Wiener, Charles
1880 Pérou et Bolivie. Récit de voyage suivi d’études
archéologiques et ethnographiques et de notes sur l’écri-
ture et les langues des populations indiennes. Paris:
Librairie Hachette.
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
Bénézet Bujo
Juvénal Munga Muya (éd.)
'[íiéuioíús -jfñcdíne
a u XXJэ 5J à cJ y
Quelques figure:
Vol. Il
Academic Press
Bénézet Bujo /
Juvénal llunga Muya (éd.)
Théologie africaine au XXIe
siècle
Quelques figures
Vol. Il
Ce volume, qui est le deuxième de la série,
continue l’étude sur les auteurs, pionniers de
la théologie africaine. Le volume contient dix
auteurs parmi lesquels on compte quatre an-
glophones d’Afrique de l’est et de l’ouest. En
plus de cela, le livre se veut œcuménique et ne se confine pas uniquement aux théologiens
catholiques, puisque au niveau de la tradition africaine, les différences que l’on constate
entre les différentes confessions n’existent pas. Ce deuxième volume complète quelque
peu le premier, dans la mesure où il ne présente pas seulement le problème de la contex-
tualisation basé sur la seule tradition africaine, mais il présente en outre des auteurs qui
se sont attelés à la question de la libération d’Afrique dans le contexte socio-économique
et politique, sans négliger pour autant la question fondamentale de l’inculturation du
message évangélique. Par ailleurs, aux auteurs étudiés dans ce volume, les éditeurs ont
annexé un texte important, à savoir la Déclaration d’Accra (1977) qui a été, pour ainsi
dire, le manifeste de Y Association Œcuménique des Théologiens Africains (AOTA).
272 pages, broché,
Fr. 38-/€ 24.80
ISBN 2-8271-0980-8
ACADEA/fT^ESs
FRI B
Anthropos
101.2006: 203-219
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
Toward a New Typology
David B. Kronenfeld
Abstract. - Kinship terms - like words in other domains -
are part of the general semantic system of contrastive sense
and reference while encoding pragmatic conceptualizations of
a Particular substantive domain. A good classification of types
°f terminology takes account of intrinsic structure in the cate-
jterized world - for words, both semantic and pragmatic struc-
re - while enabling clean and effective analytic statements
e ating to given theoretical goals. For data universes which
are fairly well-understood and which have received theoretical
attention, revised and improved data categorizations may offer
^Powerful and effective means for the refinement of theory.
lfiship terminology, semantics, pragmatics, typology, alter-
ative systems]
-id B. Kronenfeld, Ph.D., Prof, of Anthropology, Universi-
n- California at Riverside. - Research interests include cog-
Ve anthropology, the semantics of natural language, social
ganization, ethnicity, and kinship. His approach to social and
teinologicai issues reflects an underlying concern with the
in i‘tive co<ding and social distribution of relevant knowledge;
q 18 work he joins a concern with functional and historical
for Stl°ns t0 an appreciation of the explicitness offered by
Cql a analytic techniques. His current research focus concerns
the ^ as system of distributed cognition which enables
?UbrntelleCtUal aS we^ as the economic division of labor. -
c0 ICations include numerous articles on kinship, semantics,
ltWe antbroP°l°gy, and society. He edited and annotated
°f H. Gould’s “A New System for the Formal Analysis
lnsbip” (Lanham 2000) and guest edited a special issue of
k r°pological Theory (June 2001) on “Kinship.” - See also
fences Cited.
Production
the assignment of individual (and,
formately’ uniclue) events t° categories is crucial
anY kind of analysis. A coherent and complete
system of contrasting categories into which events
can be sorted is called a typology. A good typology
is one that takes account of what structure we
find in the natural world, while enabling clean and
effective analytic statements relating to a given
theoretical goal. Such a typology captures the
distinctions and uniformities that are basic to the
analysis in a form appropriate to the analysis,
and thus to the theory on which the analysis is
based. Effective typologies are thus in part theory
dependent, and hence, different analytic goals
may require different typologies - even when the
same events are being classified. Typologies are
conceptual tools that we analysts create to aid our
work; they are not judged as “true” or “false,” but,
rather, are evaluated according to their usefulness.
The closer a classification comes to “cutting nature
at the joints” the better it seems, and the more
likely its organization is to help lead analysts to
theoretically important entities and relations.
In a well-understood theoretical universe such
as nuclear physics, organized interrelated sets of
categories such as “proton,” “neutron,” “elec-
tron,” “charge,” “ion,” “nucleus,” “atomic num-
ber,” “mass,” etc. flow naturally from theory. But
theories do not emerge full-blown in the minds
of analysts. They come from a process of observ-
ing events, collecting data within some tentative
categories, trying out tentative conclusions on that
data, and then revising the categories, the proposi-
tions on which the conclusions were based, and/or
the range and manner of data collection in order
to improve the fit. For data universes which are
204
David B. Kronenfeld
fairly well understood and which have received a
fair amount of theoretical attention, revised and
improved data categorizations may offer a pow-
erful and effective means for the refinement and
improvement of theory.
The effective use of the development of a
typology as an aid to theory construction depends
on having a rich data set. This set is likely, to
some degree, to contain data already collected in
the categories of older and less general typologies,
but it also will depend importantly on new data
collected with the new typological (and hence
theoretical) issues in mind.
A good theory of even a single (and somewhat
aberrant) domain may in turn greatly advance
our general theory of linguistic (and cognitive)
meaning. The specific domain here is kinship.
Kinship terminologies offer a domain that is
ready to benefit from typological experimentation
and exploration. We have lots of data sets, a clearly
inadequate existing typology, lots of theories about
kinterms, some of which are very good, but none
of which seem to relate to the full scope of
theoretical findings and questions that have been
posed in the literature. My suspicion (cf. Denham
and White 2005) is that we will wind up with
a small number of logically distinct theories for
different aspects of kinterminologies, and then
with some separate theoretical understanding of
how the various theories come together in actual
kinship usage.
This article is aimed at contributing a re-
finement of our classification of kinterminologies
which will, in turn, aid our theoretical understand-
ing of the historical, social, and psychological
regularities which kinterminologies respond to and
reflect, and of the role that they play in our social
and cultural lives. Toward that end I will offer an
overview of analytic approaches to the analysis
of kinterminologies. I will note the terminolog-
ical issues that each approach foregrounds and
the empirical concomitants whose recognition it
facilitates. Each of these approaches represents a
theoretical perspective from which could be built
a typology (often easily); but the combination of
all the resultant typologies produces too large a
number of types with too many empty slots (em-
pirically nonexistent types) to be either workable
or useful. Hence the larger typological problems
are 1) to try to find which of these approaches
can be effectively subsumed in others and 2) to
distinguish the combinations of these approaches
which produce categories containing empirical ex-
emplars (actual terminologies) from the combina-
tions which do not, and to determine the principles
which distinguish empirically occurring typologi-
cal categories from nonoccurring ones. My general
approach to the typological enterprise comes from
Greenberg (e.g., 1966) and my particular approach
to the kinship avatar grows out of Nerlove and
Romney’s (1967) pioneering application and ex-
tension of Greenberg’s lessons.
Wider Relevance
The actual focus of this article - on weakness-
es and needed developments in the systems (or
typologies) by which kinterminologies are classi-
fied - is quite narrow, and only of direct interest
to those concerned with comparative treatments
involving formally analyzed or described kinship
terminologies. But it does have two kinds of sig-
nificantly wider relevance.
First is a kind of pragmatic use - for those who
talk about (or refer to) types of kinterminologies
in the course of a developmental or comparative
framework. It is important for such people to make
sure that they understand what they are buying into
when they assign a specific terminology to one of
another analytic category (i.e., “type” - such as
“Iroquois-type,” “Crow-type,” “classificatory,” or
“skewed”). That is, they have to understand the
attributes which actually characterize the analytic
categories into which they sort specific terminolo-
gies - especially those attributes relevant to the is'
sues or comparisons involved in their wider study-
This article summarizes the current state of known
or shown relationships of types to attributes and
varieties of regularities external to kinterminolo'
gies themselves, and it summarizes the strength5
and weakness of each approach.
The second kind of wider relevance of tin5
typological discussion is as a kind of analytlC
example or model. It focuses on an analytic area
within anthropology in which formal analysis *5
fairly advanced and in which theoretical relation5
are increasingly well understood. This is an area
in which it appears that our rough first approxima'
dons of a technical vocabulary aimed at capturinj?
empirical regularities have gotten too out of tone
with our increasingly sophisticated theoretical nn
derstanding, and thus an area in which our ted1
nical terminology - especially the categories (0l
typology) into which empirical cases are sorted
needs further refinement. The definitions of tyPe^
of terminological systems need to be redefined m
way that is conceptually clear, logically consisten •
and empirically useful. This kind of refinemel ^
of technical language cannot be done by fiafi ^
Anthropos 101-20°
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
205
depends on the kind of feedback between logical
constructions and empirical examples that enables
us to consistently locate nature’s “joints” and do
our analytic “cutting” at them. The classic example
in physics is the process by which folk notions
of “weight” were transformed into the idea of
“mass.” I argue that our classifications of types
of kinship terminologies are in the middle of such
a transformation, that the process of transforma-
tion will be aided by its being made explicit,
and that other ethnological categorizations can
benefit from the relatively advanced kintermino-
logical one.
The necessary role of additional empirical stud-
ies explains why I am not able to offer any final
categorization or typology. The logical and defini-
tional issues that have arisen in one or another
specific terminological analysis - and that are
discussed in this article - have not been examined
within (or for) enough other systems (or kinds
°f systems) to enable dependable generalizations
about them. One hope I have for this article is
that it will help generate the kinds of attention
^hich will allow a more rapid homing in on ba-
Slc attributes of kinship terminologies than would
°therwise be the case.
In the meanwhile I do want to point out that
even the present incomplete treatment suffices to
cover many of the pragmatic uses alluded to above.
I hat is, the significant problems (at least, those so
ar apparent) with existing categories of termino-
^§ical types, the assumptions they build in, and
he considerations they ignore are pretty much put
°n the table and discussed here. Thus, ethnogra-
phers and ethnologists who are not specialists in
lriship terminological arcanities can be aware of
what they are buying into with their choice of one
°r another label.
Î\ VVard General Conclusions - Wider
ypological Issues
T'h
ree underlying issues that have bedeviled previ-
s comparative treatments of types of analytic
Pproaches to kinterminologies - and thus the
tau°*°^es implicit in them - need to be put on the
j . before moving to any direct discussion of ex-
0^lng typologies and the strengths and weaknesses
j each. These issues are semantic vs. pragmat-
Vs ^caning and meaning structures, ethnographic
“et.^hnological focus (with associated “emic” vs.
which
perspectives), and the alternative goals to
a formal analysis might be directed (partic-
characterizations of how kinterms are best
Anth;
r°pos 101.2006
defined vs. what structures their use in thought
and action). Confusion resulting from inattention
to these issues has led to some classic “talking
past” in which analyses implicitly (but not ex-
plicitly) aimed at different goals were treated as
competing alternatives where a winner was being
sought when, instead, they should have been treat-
ed as complementary enterprises where the search
or evaluation should have been for how/how well
they fit together. The “talking past” has extended,
also, to the question of what data or measures are
best or most crucially to be used to evaluate the
success of a given analysis.
Word Meaning and Meaning Structures
Relevant to our consideration of kinterminologies
are two different but interrelated aspects of word
meaning; semantics and pragmatics. Semantics, in
turn, traditionally (and, usefully) breaks up in-
to “meaning” or “sense” relations and reference.
These aspects of semantics are intrinsic parts of
the system of language. They obtain across all
the various semantic domains of language, includ-
ing kinship. The specific properties of different
domains (such as kinship or ethnobotany) come
out of the pragmatic properties of the entities
(things, relations, actions, functional properties,
etc.) that make up those domains and come out
of the ways in which these entities are interacted
with - and are represented in various pragmatic
structures.
Semantic: Meaning or Sense Relations
First we have the basic (Saussurean) semantic
relations of opposition among conceptual entities.
Opposition (or contrast) implies both difference
on some specific dimension of opposition and
similarity on other relevant dimensions - which
gets us to the early ethnoscience concerns with
contrast and inclusion. We know concepts by what
they are different from and what they are like.
Thus, we know that “chairs” contrast with
“tables” as kinds of “furniture.” We know that
“furniture” contrasts with “appliances” as kinds
of “household furnishings.” We also know that
“chairs” contrast with “sofas,” “benches,” etc. as
kinds of “things to sit on.” We know that “sofas”
and “easy chairs” contrast as kinds of “living
room furniture,” while “tables” and “chairs” can
be “dining room furniture” or “conference room
furniture.” “Natives,” being some mixture of lazy
206
David B. Kronenfeld
and efficient, often try to reuse existing contrasts
and categories of inclusion. Thus, these relations
can be arranged by an analyst into taxonomies
and paradigms - though almost always at the
“expense” of pruning out some additional “native”
knowledge (e.g., a more detailed hierarchy of
kinds of rooms, kinds of furniture, etc. or of some
crosscutting structure such as styles - cf. Romney
and Moore’s [1998: 316 f.] study of conceptual
relations among animal terms).
Semantics: Reference
Reference is a separate issue from contrast, and it
is here that semantic extension comes in. My claim
is that our conception of referents (the specific
things covered by reference) is not in terms of
a whole class defined by features, but is more
in terms of a “gestalt” representing a “focal” or
“prototypic” referent1 * * * - where focality is based
on a combination of frequency of use, logical fit
with semantic and pragmatic knowledge (algebraic
accounts are relevant here - see my discussion of
pragmatic knowledge below), personal history, etc.
(see Kronenfeld 1996). The connection between
prototype and term is what I have spoken of as
the “referential lock” that prevents the famous
Wittgensteinian infinite regress of “family resem-
blances.” What philosophers have spoken of as
“essential” properties of terminological categories
pertain not necessarily to the full range of referents
of terms but only necessarily to the focal proto-
types.
Referents that are not prototypic or focal refer-
ents can still be referred to by a term. And most of
the things in the world that we talk of do not have
their own terms (i.e., belong to the focal gestalt of
some term). Part of the power, use, and flexibility
of language is our productive use of old terms
for new things - in ways that we, as speakers
and hearers, easily and transparently understand.
This is semantic extension - the use of words
for referents which are not included in the words’
prototype gestalts. In Kronenfeld 1996, I outline
the differences among denotative, connotative, and
figurative extension. For present purposes, note
that denotative extension refers to referents that
1 Note that I say “our conception” - referring to us as native
speakers - and note that I am explicitly not speaking of
denotative definitions (or of the axiomatic systems that
create and organize them) which may well not depend on
focality in some of the places where, as native speakers,
we feel it and in one way or another rely upon it.
are technically correct applications of a term (ones
that fit whatever is the formal definitional process,
whether implicit or explicit), but that just don’t
totally match the prototypic referent.
Fanti speakers have a whole logical system
(see Kronenfeld 1980b) that makes, e.g., father’s
mother’s sister’s son, a totally correct instance of
egya (glossed by them as “father” in English). But
Fanti speakers also have a prototypic conception
of egya as the man who married their na (glossed
as “mother”) and physiologically fathered them-
This prototypicality comes out both behaviorally
and in definitional discussions. It can be seen
behaviorally in both how Fanti are seen to treat
alternative egyas (e.g., father’s mother’s sister’s
son vs. own biological and social father) and
in how they describe behavior toward alternative
referents of the term, and can be seen in how they
respond to requests such as “tell me about (or
describe) your egya.” Definitionally, the prototypic
conceptions can be seen in answers to the question
“how is he your egya” about different referents-
For nonfocal referents the typical answer will be
a relative product, something like, “because he
is my egya n’nuo” (my father’s sibling [implied
male —> father’s brother]), while for focal referents
it will be some reference - outside the relative
product game - to the referent’s role in concep'
tion.
For terms such as wofa (maternal uncle), that do
not have any directly physiologically defined refer'
ent, we still see the focality (though, possibly lesS
sharply defined). That is, na n’nua banyin (moth'
er’s male sibling) is the system definition - an^}
thus the usual answer to the “how is he your wop
question (for all denotatively correct referents)-
But both the behavioral incidence records and the
answers to the “tell me about your wofa” request5
again clearly string out along a distance metric
that is anchored by real mother’s real male sibling
(and extends, e.g., through real mother’s mother 5
sister’s son to real mother’s father’s brother’s son/
- where the “real” modifiers are glosses for word
that Fanti use. Additionally, in definitional com
versations one can see a parallel regress - thoug
the question that produces the regress is not the
opening question “how is he your wofoT (elicit^
the answer “because he’s my na n’nua banyin
).
but one step removed in the follow-up quest!011
about the linking na (how is she your nal) or nh
(how is he her nual). ,
That is, focal referents are identified and kn°vV^.
edge about behavioral and other concomitants
the terms is keyed to these focal referents. * ^
focality and keying is clearest with terms such
Anthropos 101
,2006
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
207
na and egya which are initially defined outside the
relative product word game and which play a key
definitional role in the wider system, but it is still
apparent with a term like wofa which is totally
and only defined within the system by the relative
product game. In the wofa case the focality is not
immediate (as it is with egya, and as it would be
in a Lounsburian approach) since all “uncles” are
“mother’s brothers,” but it is a conceptual focus
that figures powerfully in Fanti understandings and
conversations.
Pragmatic Knowledge
Interfacing with semantics we have our pragmat-
lc knowledge of the world that the words refer
to - which I spoke of in my book (Kronenfeld
i996) as “schemas about the world” or “function-
ai schemas.” Today, however, I would speak of
such knowledge as “cultural conceptual systems”
0r “cultural models” (depending on specifics of
f°rrn and function that are beyond our present
discussion) rather than as “schemas.” This knowi-
ng6 is structured, but not semantically. This is
^Ur knowledge, e.g., that chairs and tables are
unctionally related - that in the dining room
sit on the one while eating off of (and being
pP against and partially under) the other. Or that
Ivmg rooms typically have some mixture of sofas
and easy chairs for sitting and little/low tables
tables, coffee tables) for putting stuff on.
nd our knowledge that rooms have floors (with
anous kinds of coverings) and walls (often with
mdows) and ceilings ... This is the general ver-
°n of the kind of assemblage that Dougherty and
heeller (1985) speak of as a “taskonomy.” Relevant
d ff6 are tke features which make a dining chair
ha erent fr°m a living room chair - or a claw
mmer different from a ballpeen hammer. (The
mantic features, discussed above, tell us that the
ancT ^ammer is different from the ballpeen one,
Perhaps imply that this difference is in terms
s Sorrie defining feature, but the questions of what
that^C ^eature defines the difference, and why
Mature matters (that is, is functionally sig-
C(J ,.ant ~ significant enough to merit linguistic
hn. is a matter that concerns our pragmatic
Understanding.
tinc,think that in a general sense the above dis-
ones °n between semantic relations and pragmatic
kind aPP^es t0 kinship terms as well as any other
pra S words. I think that among the kinds of
«!.knowledge we have of kinship terms
0rrtlal system by which they are organized
is
Antfi;
roP°s 101.2006
and defined - the system that Read (2001, 1984;
and Read and Behrens 1990) analyzes and models.
As kids we are not taught that system (as a sys-
tem) and do not learn it directly. Instead, we are
exposed to a range of applications of kinterms,
a smattering of contextually specific definitions
(“No, Johnny, he is not your father; he’s your
uncle - ’cause he’s Mommy’s brother.”), and a
variety of conversational and behavioral contexts
in which relatives get sorted out (“uncle and daddy
both go to the men’s room”; “daddy and mommy
can spank me but uncle and aunt can’t”; “I’m
supposed to be respectful to uncle and aunt but
I can tease my cousins”; etc. etc.). Out of this
we each pull out (sort of induce, but not via the
rigors of any formal inductive logic) a productive
representation of the system - of the patterns
(a.k.a. “rules”) that specify who is which kind
of relative. We each create our own version of
the system - but the semantic and interactive
constraints on kinship (like the constraints on
the grammar of language itself) are sufficiently
rigorous to lead us each to come up with pretty
much the same system as those around us.
It is this productive system that Read’s algebra-
ic formalization describes. His algebraic analysis
is powerful, regular, and embodies an ultimate
definitional reality in the sense that it precisely
(and thus productively) captures the systemic reg-
ularities of the described systems. But note also,
though, that this algebraic structure is not the first
kinship stuff learned, and is not itself learned di-
rectly; it is inferred from patterns of experienced
usage. Other understandings (such as focality) can
be based directly and independently on that expe-
rienced usage. And it is through, and only through,
changes in those patterns of experienced usage
that the system changes over time - that people
in a culture move from one type of system to
another. The axioms of the algebraic system are
not what is learned first or on any privileged basis;
they are induced through the process by which a
new speaker tries to come up with an efficient,
productive system (or, rather, a representation of
the system - since the system is perceived by the
learner as a preexisting cognitive property of the
community). Focality, thus, is tied to experienced
relations - and to how these are later coded (in the
learning process) - not to anything external such
as our anthropological “kintypes.” (The degree to
which there exists some sort of universal “native”
conception of something like a kintype and, if it
exists, what properties it might have, are questions
in which I am quite interested, but which are not
relevant to the current discussion).
208
David B. Kronenfeld
Ethnography vs. Ethnology - Inside a Culture
vs. Outside
Ethnographie Specificity
The preceding discussion is about the actual spe-
cific systems of knowledge held by specific people
- what is spoken of in the Pikean (Pike 1967,
andef. Headland et al. 1990) sense as “emic.” Its
descriptive specificity makes it also ethnographic.
The description of a kinship system from an ethno-
graphic perspective aims at the axioms (entities,
patterns, rules, etc.) which actually generate the
system.
Ethnological Comparison
Another perspective is represented by our com-
parative, ethnological concerns. The questions of
what should be compared and of how ethnologi-
cal comparison relates to ethnographic description
are old problems in anthropology. The ethno-
science (or “ethnographic semantics”) method-
ological approach arose as a response to Mur-
dock’s cross-cultural comparisons by his second
generation of students at Yale who questioned
the value of any comparative conclusions based
on what they saw as an inadequate ethnographic
record - and who then resolved to try to get
the ethnography (or ethnographic understanding)
right. Goodenough said (1956b, arguing with
Fischer) that to understand a residence pattern
in a culture we needed to consider their resi-
dence rules rather than any externally (“etical-
ly” in that lingo) defined classification of their
residence distribution. But, our tension between
ethnography and ethnology remains (see, e.g., my
Goodenough vs. Fischer article; Kronenfeld 1992).
It turns out that different analytic goals require
different definitions; there do exist interesting and
reasonable empirical theories relating to house-
holds that one might want to evaluate that are
hard to address through residence rules, but easily
addressed through old-fashioned household com-
position maps.
An ethnological comparison requires that the
compared cases be placed in a common concep-
tual frame - which then is highly unlikely to be
the “emic” conceptual frame of any one of the
compared cases. (One can, of course, compare
“emic” descriptions [as Frake, among others, has
suggested], and such comparisons can lead to very
interesting findings, but these findings do not seem
normally or easily to address the kinds of theo-
retical questions which ethnological comparisons
typically address.)
Thus an ethnological characterization of some
system will not itself be an “emically valid” de-
scription of that system; it will instead be an exter-
nal description or characterization of the emical-
ly valid description. Its couching in comparative
terms will commonly (maybe necessarily?) lead to
the loss of specific ethnographic details that don’t
seem to pertain to the more general issues.
Under “ethnological” comparisons I include not
only comparisons of one terminological system
with another but also comparisons - driven by
external, ethnological theory - of terminological
patterns with other aspects of culture.
It is for such ethnological comparisons that I
have found Lounsbury’s Crow-Omaha-approach
useful (in spite of its nonrepresentation of “emic
conceptual operations) - as a reasonably simpU
description (from the outside) of regularities found
in a large class of systems. My claim here, then,
is not that kinship systems are only genealogical
or narrowly dependent only and strictly on kin-
type characterizations, but only that a large and
powerful set of cross-system regularities can be
fairly rigorously defined in these terms. This *s
why in my comparison of my formalization of
Fanti calculations with my version of Lounsburian
rules (Kronenfeld 1980b) I found uses for both
approaches within my wider Fanti project, even
while noting the more limited range of application
of the Lounsburian version.
As Read, Lehman, and others have noticed-
Lounsbury’s system is indeed loose and ad hoc-
Gould, a mathematician, became involved in ter'
minological analysis via his exposure to LounS'
bury’s work (including its Schefflerian emenda'
tions). What he (Gould 2000) aimed at was a com'
parative treatment that worked across systems (aS
does Lounsbury’s), and that spoke to the varions
kinds of regularities (and, maybe, relations) that
Lounsbury had addressed, but that (unlike Loons'
bury’s treatment) was mathematically elegant an
complete. Gould explicitly recognized that the de
mands of comparative (i.e., ethnological) simphc
ity necessitated ignoring (and thus omitting) so*ne
of the systemic specificities of particular ethn°^
graphic cases (e.g., his analysis explicitly ignofe
the fact that in Fanti - unusually for Cheyenn^
and Crow-type systems - father’s sister is refetf^
to by the na mother term). And he made no clai
to be producing a model or theory of actual na
Anthropos 101-20°
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
209
which captured the regularities that characterized
the range of classificatory kinship terminologies
that he could find - or, at least, the regularities
that could be captured by the particular kinds of
parent-child links that his system is based on.
Analytic Goals
On the model of structural linguistic analyses of
Phonological systems, formal analyses of kinter-
ntinologies have classically been aimed at produc-
ing efficient and insightful definitions of “native”
categories. Initial analyses by Lounsbury (1956,
1964b), Goodenough (1956a), Wallace and Atkins
(i960), Romney and D’Andrade (1964), and oth-
ers, directly applied the componential approach
°f phonology (in which entities are defined
°y the intersection of distinctive features) to the
Semantic problem of kinterms. As differences
emerged between phonological and semantic do-
mains in general - and more particularly between
Phonemes and kinterms - other forms of anal-
ysis were explored. These included Lounsbury’s
(1964a, 1965) rewrite or extension analysis, and
Ihen the algebraic approaches of Lehman (1993,
^01, Lehman and Witz 1974), Read (1984, 2001,
^ead and Behrens 1990), and Gould (2000).2
The problem with componential analyses was
lhat they depended on prior knowledge (by both
Native speakers and anthropological analysts) of
genealogical structure and of what kinds of kin-
°lk went into which kinterm category - which
^eant that they could not provide the basic defl-
ations of kinterm category membership. On the
°ther hand, a wealth of psychological data has
j“°Wn up (beginning with that in Romney and
Andrade 1964) implying that componential at-
lbutes are “psychologically real” in the sense that
people think about kinterm categories in terms of
t Componential analyses - whether of whole kin-
a . ranges or only of focal referents - provide
interesting and useful example of a structure
ich is merely descriptive (as opposed to gener-
a VeT which is derivatively based on some prior
(^ understanding of the denotative system
st °Pposed to representing any primary under-
an, dlng t^ie system either by natives or by
mix ^logical analysts), and which includes a
ev generatively relevant and generatively irrel-
nt features. Componential (i.e., paradigmatic)
structures3 represent the semantic relations among
terms (a structure of contrast and inclusion) - as
opposed to the pragmatic relations among the enti-
ties referred to by kinship that structure the denota-
tive definitions of kinterms and that are embodied
in the relative product-based algebraic approach-
es of Gould, Lehman, and Read. Componentially
defined patterns of opposition are useful because
they capture the attribute patterns (sex, generation,
distance, cross vs. parallel, etc.) that structure the
connotations of kinterms and that code much of
the cultural significance of kinterms; such features
underlie most of the figurative uses of kinterms -
as for God, country, priests, fellow members of a
movement, etc.
It is noteworthy in this connection that Gould
finds componential definitions of focal referents
worth carefully defining and analyzing, but does
not make any attempt to derive them from his
algebraic system. This implies that he sees them
as reflecting a different role (with different con-
straints) from that of the algebraic system. Even
if the two are interdependent, the componential
paradigm is not simply an epiphenomenon of the
algebraic system. The two are interlinked in the
sense that the componential paradigm must con-
tain the distinctions basic to the working of the
algebraic system - and in the sense that changes
in the componential paradigm can constitute a
pressure toward change in the algebraic system (as
illustrated by my discussion of English loanwords
in Fanti [Kronenfeld 1991:28-30]).
Different analytic purposes seem to demand
different (perhaps very different) forms of formal
analysis. The best formal analysis of definitions in
a given terminology may well not represent how
native speakers actually calculate terminological
assignments (Kronenfeld in press). The basis on
which native speakers derive the connotations and
communicative force of their kinterms may differ
considerably from how they define membership
in kinterm categories; componential solutions, in
particular, seem well suited to structuring the for-
mer understandings while quite unsuited to the
latter definitional task. Pertinent analytic questions
include whether or not componential patterns of
conceptual contrast feed back on the algebraic
structure, and if so, how. Are cognitive consider-
ations such as conjunctivity simply epiphenomena
of some underlying algebraic system or do they
represent some independent shaping force?
Anth;
r a fuller historical account see Kronenfeld 200 h
roPos 101.2006
3 See Lounsbury 1956, Goodenough 1956a, Romney and
D’Andrade 1964.
210
David B. Kronenfeld
The Meta-Typology
In order to produce a useful (effective and pow-
erful) typology, we need to know the kinds
of variables on which terminologies can differ
from one another (including the actual feature
values that actual terminologies take on these
variables), the combinations of these that em-
pirically occur, and the principles which govern
these combinatorial possibilities. “Variables” can
refer to distinctive features, but also to other
formal ways of describing or defining patterns,
such as equivalence rules, algebraic axioms, al-
gebraic generating propositions, and perhaps even
logical systemic effects of particular kinds of
equivalence.
What I propose to do in the remainder of this
article is to sketch out a kind of “meta-typology,”
that is, the set of logical bases - based on rela-
tionships that have emerged, especially lately, in
the literature - on which at least some kintermi-
nologies or analyses seem to differ significantly
from some others. In connection with my discus-
sion of these various kinds of bases I will offer
some empirical speculations and some extended
queries regarding attributes or concomitants of kin-
terminological systems or relations among related
ones. I aim at contributing to the construction
of a typology that enables a clear demarcation
of possible (i.e., occurrent) from impossible (i.e.,
nonoccurrent) types, that encompasses possible
historical transitions, and that enables a clear view
of the relationship of terminological systems to the
functional, cultural, or historical bases to which
they respond (including the communicative load
they carry as words in languages). It is possible
that such a typology will turn out to be based
directly on a single algebraic analysis, but there
exist reasons for suggesting that things will not
be so simple (see Kronenfeld 2001a and consider
the case for Lounsburian rules that I made above);
I do expect that an effective typology will relate
in logical and systematic ways to good algebraic
analyses - and that a successful typology and ef-
fective algebraic analyses will mutually illuminate
each other.
Typological Base 1
Typological Base 1 concerns the sets of distinctive
features (as in a componential analysis) that -
within a given terminology - distinguish either
kinterminological categories from one another or
focal members of such categories from one anoth-
er.4 Common examples include generation (either
signed generation [+1, 0, -1, etc.] or absolute
generation [0, 1, 2, etc.] plus polarity [+, -]),
collaterality, sex of alter, and relative age.5
Whole category definitions have the problem
of becoming extremely complex and hard to
follow (and thus cognitively unreasonable - see
Nerlove and Romney’s 1967 and Kronenfeld’s
1974 findings on sibling typology) and fly in the
face of much ethnographic usage information re-
garding focality and the special status of focal
referents (see below). On the other hand, fea-
tures limited to focal categories then necessarily
depend on being linked to some mechanism for
extension to nonfocal referents (see Typological
Base 2).
Such distinctive feature sets have provided the
traditional basis for distinguishing Hawaiian-type
from Cheyenne-type from Iroquois-type/Dravi-
dian-type terminologies, but, taken focally, they
do not distinguish Iroquois-type from Dravidian-
type, nor Cheyenne-type from Crow-type/Omaha-
type. Distinctive feature sets applied to extended
referents have not much been used for typological
purposes - perhaps because of the complexity of
the features and/or system to system variation in
definitional details.
4 Focal (also called, variously, kernel, core, or prototype
members of a terminological category (i.e., referents of №
term) are the members that are closest to ego and from
which simple extension rules can be written which identify
other members of the given terminological category; f°ca
members (or referents) contrast with extended members (°r
referents). ,
5 I suggest (following on Gould [2000], Read [2001, an
see Read 1984 and Read and Behrens 1990], and Lehman
[2001, and see Lehman 1993 and Lehman and Witz 19741
that it matters whether such features are either structural
relevant - in the sense of affecting the logic by wlnc
category membership and resulting equivalences are caRu
lated - or structurally irrelevant - in the sense of codify
socially important information, but information which d°
not affect the logic of category calculations. As an exarup1 ’
in English, the sex-of-relative feature that distinguish6*1'
among other pairs, “brother” from “sister” is structuf
ly irrelevant; the child of either will be “nephew
“niece” according to its sex. On the other hand, in Engh- 1 ’
the collaterality feature which distinguishes “cousin’ fr ^
“brother” and “sister” is structurally relevant; the child
a “cousin” is a “cousin,” while the child of a “broth
or “sister” is a “nephew” or “niece.” A typological is ^
whether the distinction between structurally r ,
concerns
_ an6
is
evant and structurally irrelevant distinctive features
the determination of which features are of which sort ^
specific to whichever particular formalism is being us6
define the structure, or whether this distinction and/or de
mination is robustly constant across formalisms (and,
across the different goals to which different formalisms
directed).
Anthropos
101
.2006
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
211
The problem with (or limitation of) Base 1 is
the important terminological contrasts that it does
not reflect. The contrast between Dravidian- and
Iroquois-type terminologies is important because
of the systematic and logical dependence of the
former on marriage relations between moiety-like
categories, as opposed to the absolute incompat-
ibility of the latter with such systematic rela-
tions. “Skewing” refers to the systematic cross-
ing of generation lines by primary terminological
categories of relatives (such as those labeled by
“father,” “mother,” “brother,” “uncle,” etc.) in
the context of (and paralleling) some variety of
tmilineal succession (see footnotes 8 and 9 for
illustrative examples). Additionally, Base 1 does
not directly reflect significant aspects of the con-
trast between Iroquois- and Dravidian-type sys-
tems on the one hand and skewed ones on the
other - i.e., that Iroquois and Dravidian are
nnskewed. In sum, what we have traditionally
Ailed Iroquois-, Dravidian-, Cheyenne-, Crow-,
and Omaha-type systems are interrelated in con-
sistent ways that the Base 1 approach does not
adequately represent.
On the other hand, Base 1, applying particularly
to focal exemplars, seems important because it
Provides a basic framework for understanding
Annotations of kinterms, figurative extensions of
them to non-kin, and their understood relationship
t° behavioral relations by native speakers (as
shown for Fanti in Kronenfeld 1973). Perhaps
J^°re basically, Base 1 types of contrasts among
°cal exemplars reflect the underlying social issues
that drive the terminological distinguishing of
Ac category from another (again, for Fanti see
j^ronenfeld 1973). Base 1 has provided a useful
asis for thinking about the historical development
A terminological systems (see, e.g., Allen 1998;
Hage 1998a, 1999b, 2001).
Relating to Base 1, I hypothesize that the set
hinterms in a system will be the result of the
Aersection of a universal pattern of nuclear family
Acs (mother, father, child) with culturally specific
^atterns representing rules of succession and in-
stance. “Intersection” means that the categories
°duced by the one pattern are potentially sub-
vided by the categories produced by the other
tern. This intersection will determine whether
c ^lateral relatives (possibly further divided by
lateral lines) are distinguished from lineal, as in
, Ao-type systems such as English, b) whether
butema^ Natives are distinguished from paternal,
lineals not distinguished from collaterals -
ty ln dravidian-, Iroquois-, Crow-, and Omaha-
e systems, c) whether neither distinction is
nthr°Pos 101.2006
made, as in Hawaiian-type systems, or d) whether
both distinctions are made. From this perspective,
grand-relatives could be taken as an extension of
either the nuclear family pattern or the succes-
sion/inheritance one.
Typological Base 2
Typological Base 2 represents the means by which
category membership is extended from core (focal,
prototypic, kernel) referents to other, extended,
referents. Extension can be represented by exten-
sion “rules” as in Lounsbury (1964a and 1965)
or by other representational devices (as in Rom-
ney’s notational scheme6 - see, e.g., Romney
1965 - or as productive algebraic equivalence
of the sort we will consider under Base 3). The
following kinds of extension alternatives seem to
exist:
a) There is simple generational extension, which
can be either (i) simply by generation, apply-
ing without distinction to ego’s mother-side and
father-side relatives (as in Fanti’s unskewed vari-
ant where the “mother” term is extended to all
G+1 female consanguines), or (ii) generational-
ly, but according to side of the family (as,
e.g., in Fanti where father’s side G+1 males are
called by the “father” term while mother’s side
ones are called by the mother’s brother [“uncle”]
term).
b) There is extension by cross vs. parallel
categories, which can be either (i) Iroquois-type
(as in Lounsbury 1964b), (ii) Dravidian-type (see
6 In Romney’s notation scheme m refers to a male person,
f to a female, and a to a person of either sex; b..b refers to
a same-sex pair while b..b refers to an opposite sex pair.
+ represents a child to parent link, - a parent to child
link, o a sibling link, and = a marriage link. An e or a
y at the end of string makes the terminal person elder or
younger than the initial one. A period at the end of a string
means that the expression has to end there, while three
dots at the end means that something most follow, and
no punctuation allows either. A () parenthesis encloses an
optional element; linked parentheses, i.e., ()_(), enclose
linked options in which either both or neither must be taken.
An expression’s reciprocal is formed by reversing the order
of the symbols and changing +s to -s and -s to +S. Slant
lines enclosing a string mean that the expression applies
both to the string and to its reciprocal.
In Romney’s notation the Omaha skewing rule, in Dorsey’s
data, can be represented as:
/+mof-/ —> /of-/
And the Omaha merging rule as:
/+bob/ -» /+b/
The expanded Omaha maternal uncle term as:
a+f(+b)p(b-)(m-)
212
David B. Kronenfeld
Kay 1965), or (possibly) (iii) others (as in Tyler
1966; Tjon Sie Fatl998).7
c) There is extension by skewing (coupled with
merging). Skewing variants (see Lounsbury 1964a)
include the Crow-type basic pattern8 (with Louns-
bury’s various “type” limitations on range of appli-
cation) and the Omaha-type basic pattern9 (again
with Lounsbury’s limitations). Skewing extension
types include a variation which limits merging (the
terminological equivalence of same-sex siblings
as linking relatives) to one parallel sibling sex,
but not the other; the Crow-type variant, in which
only females are merged would be Trobriand (see
Lounsbury 1965), while the Omaha-type variant,
in which only males are merged would be Kalmuk
(see Romney 1965).
The Iroquois-type vs. Dravidian-type distinc-
tion is defined by alternate forms of cross/parallel
extension and Crow-type and Omaha-type termi-
nological systems are defined by the presence of
skewing, but - beyond these specifics - no real
typological scheme based on patterns of extension
seems to have emerged. For unskewed systems
extension seems mostly to be a way of apply-
ing the distinctions that structure (or, are implicit
in) the componential paradigm of focal referents
to the wider range of kinfolk. The Iroquois-type
vs. Dravidian-type contrast represents alternative
ways of generalizing a shared focal cross/parallel
distinction.
Relevant questions particularly regarding exten-
sion include the following:
a) What must be uniform across a system, vs.
what can vary? One kind of variation is represent-
ed by the Trobriand (Lounsbury 1965) and Kalmuk
(Romney 1965) variations mentioned just above.
Another kind is represented by the mixture of gen-
erational extension forms one sees in Cheyenne-
7 The difference between patterns of extension of cross and
parallel categories from focal parents’ children - “first
cousins” in English - account for the categorical com-
patibility of Dravidian-type systems with moities and the
absolute incompatibility of Iroquois-type systems (among
others) with moieties. Dravidian- and Iroquois-types rep-
resent the only ethnographically common forms, but oth-
ers are logically possible and perhaps sometimes occur
ethnographically.
8 In a Crow-type system, for example, one’s mother’s broth-
er’s child is terminologically equivalent to one’s own broth-
er’s child and, reciprocally, one’s father’s sister’s child
is terminologically equivalent to one’s father’s sister or
father’s brother.
9 In Omaha-type systems, for example, one’s father’s sister’s
child is terminologically equivalent to one’s own sister’s
child, while one’s mother’s brother’s child is equivalent to
one’s mother’s sister or mother’s brother.
type systems (such as the Fanti unskewed variant)
in which there is a cross/parallel distinction in G1
but not in G° or G2 (Kronenfeld 1973, 1980a).
b) What kinds of alternatives are mutually com-
patible - that is, can coexist as variant patterns
within a single system - such as the Crow skewed
and Cheyenne generational variants in Fanti (Kro-
nenfeld 1973, 1980a, 2001b)?
c) Whether skewing is best seen as an alterna-
tive to cross/parallel (and generational) extension
or as an overlay on some prior kind of extension.
By “overlay” I refer to a situation such as that
I have described for Fanti in my “Lounsburian’
analysis (1973, 1980a, 1980b) in which all of the
extension rules needed to describe the unskewed
variant apply as well - along with an additional,
skewing, rule - to the skewed variant. It is in this
sense that the unskewed variant can be seen as
“unmarked” vs. the more “marked” skewed one
(see below).
If skewing is best seen as an overlay on some
unskewed type of extension, then the issue arises
of whether any types other than Dravidian and
Cheyenne can be thus overlain - e.g., can Hawai-
ian (generational), Iroquois, or any variants of
Eskimo be skewed.
The idea of skewing as a kind of overlay is sup-
ported by a comparative examination of language
families in which skewed systems occur (as i°
Lewis Henry Morgan’s “Systems of Consanguinity
and Affinity of the Human Family”). Very closely
related - and thus only very recently diverged "
languages show a mix of Crow-type, Omaha-type’
and unskewd patterns of extension, while their
sets of paradigmatic contrasts and the kinterm D'
bels that fill out the paradigm are quite constant
across the whole family. Skewing forms (or the)1
lack) seem much more labile than do the basic
kin categories and the oppositions which defi°e
them.
d) Whether there is some consistent contrast
to be made between extensions that are seen n11'
plicitly by native speakers simply as the obvious
interpretation of their basic categories (i.e., not tel
as extensions) and extensions that are explicit
recognized by native speakers as extensions. F°r
the Fanti this difference is clearly seen in the con
trast between the self-conscious nature of extct1
sions based on skewing, and the implicit nature 0
other extensions - and in their repeated adducing
of an explanation (inheritance) for the one, 121
trast
that
not for the other. Alternatively, such a con
might be seen as being between extensions 11
are logically consistent with, and (maybe cvc
implied by, the componential definitions of f°c
Anthropos 101-2°°
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
213
referents, and those extensions which are logically
inconsistent with, and thus override, componential
definitions of focal referents.
Base 2 considers the regularities of extension,
but in no way attends to the nature, meaning,
or significance of contrasts between kinterms -
their basic semantic import. Bases 1 and 2 thus
are needed together to completely characterize any
terminological system. The problem with them,
even taken together, is that they fail to capture
the systematic constraints (underlying axioms) that
shape the regularities that are described, including
both where contrast occurs and where extension.
As we shall see in Typological Bases 3 and 4, such
successful small axiom sets do exist - from which
complete terminological systems can be deduced.
We have seen, in Bases 1 and 2, formal evi-
dence for the systematic importance of Morgan’s
distinguishing of “classificatory” terminologies (in
Much terms for lineal relatives apply also to collat-
eral ones) from “descriptive” ones (where the lin-
eal vs. collateral distinction is rigidly maintained),
and have seen what social features are crucial for
that distinction.
It seems likely that the distinctive feature dif-
ferences among terminologies (Base 1 for typolo-
§izing) relate generally to the kinds of corporate
kin groupings of the society (none, vs. unilineal vs.
n°nunilineal). Those same social groupings seem
?Jso related to some of the variation in Base 2’s
*dnds of extension from core referents to extended
Referents and to some of the variation in Base
8 productive algebraic equivalences (see below),
while corporate descent groups do seem a
Precondition for skewed terminologies, and while
P£ contrast between matrilineal and patrilineal
Recession seems largely to explain the contrast
etWeen “Crow-type” and “Omaha-type” skewed
Variants, no such features seem able to account for
ae basic contrast between skewed and unskewed
Sinologies. In the literature, both marriage pat-
^1118 and an intensification of unilineal focus have
een proposed as reasons for skewing, but neither
as so far proved really convincing.
laying within the context of Base 2, and
t towing on observations made above, I want
°ffer, as an explicit hypothesis, that compo-
^ Sal (Base 1 type distinctive feature) analyses
n 0r typological purposes, at least - are best
Jttfied to focal referents (see Kronenfeld 1980a;
2000: 106-126 for discussions of relevant
pr es). Focal referents, within the analytic ap-
that distinguishes them, are the prototypic
theantlations °f the semantic categories and are
referents in terms of which native reasoning
Anth]
r°pos 101.2006
regarding the categories is normally made. This
analytic approach to focal categories implies that
extensions to nonfocal referents are best handled
through separate processes - because they are
secondary, because they often lack attributes which
informants presuppose as basic to the categories,
because there often exist alternative extension pat-
terns, and so forth. The questions posed by this
hypothesis (and its linked assumptions) concern
the following. Do there exist any empirical insights
or correlations for which componential definitions
of extended ranges seem particularly important or
useful? For instance, are the alternative ways of
extending the cross/parallel distinction within G1
considered in Kronenfeld (2004) an example of the
usefulness of extended componential analyses - or
can all such insights be equally well pulled out of
extension patterns?
Additionally, I offer, as another hypothesis, that
all skewed systems will turn out in fact to have
unskewed variants, and, moreover, that, in such
situations the skewed system will be “marked”
relative to the unskewed (see Kronenfeld 1973,
1980a for discussions of relevant issues in connec-
tion with the Fanti case). The marking hypothesis
means that in the absence of the special condi-
tions which evoke the “marked” alternatives, the
terms will be understood and used as if unskewed.
The skewed pattern will be seen as a more dis-
tinctive or unusual usage. Marking can mess up
expectations normal to native speakers and thus
produce what are to native speakers intuitively
funny category assignments; marked patterns thus
can be, inter alia, more inviting of some kind
of self-conscious native speaker explanation than
are unmarked ones. With this hypothesis goes the
related claim that past ethnographers, in looking
so hard for the single correct system, suppressed
(that is, did not believe) evidence of internal vari-
ation that they encountered, and then picked as the
“correct” system the variant most unlike English
(or another outside language) - and thus, by their
lights, the presumably least acculturated variant -
that is, the skewed variant, where such existed
(see Kronenfeld 2001b: 188 f.). Additionally, and
relatedly, the skewed system, being more marked,
will appear to native speakers to be more “correct,”
reinforcing the hypothesized ethnographer bias.
Typological Base 3
Typological Base 3 represents the sets of pro-
ductive algebraic equivalences between kintypes
(vs. simple concurrences) which enable formal
214
David B. Kronenfeld
accounts of extension and reduction. Equivalence
between kintypes (i.e., here, genealogical specifi-
cations) means that all longer expressions derived
from the equivalent kintypes are terminologically
equivalent. An example would be father’s brother
and mother’s brother in English, where both are
called “uncle” and the children (grandchildren,
etc.) of each are “cousins.” “Simple concurrences”
refer to situations such as that in Fanti where
father’s sister is called by the same “mother” term
as is mother’s sister, but where the children of the
one are always “siblings,” while the children of the
other can be skewed (into “fathers” or “mothers”).
Equivalent kintypes are often called by the same
kinterm (as just seen for English “uncle”), but
not necessarily. For instance, in English, brother
and sister are equivalent kintypes which receive
different kinterm labels, but everything derived
from them is the same for both.
Gould, in his typology (2000; and see Kro-
nenfeld 2001b), offers us one such set of pro-
ductive equivalences. In Gould’s set, all classi-
hcatory systems (those in which lineal relatives
are terminologically grouped with collateral ones)
are characterized by IhJhMMoFF equiva-
lences; the formula states that, terminologically,
one’s self falls in the same equivalence class
as one’s sibling, one’s mother’s sister’s child,
and one’s father’s brother’s child. Specific types
of classificatory systems are generated (and thus
defined) by additional equivalences as follows:10
a) Generational, by M<->F (and reciprocally
M<->F). Here mother and father fall in the same
equivalence class, as reciprocally do a woman’s
children and a man’s children.
b) Cheyenne, by X<->J. Here one’s cross-
cousins fall in the same equivalence class as
one’s parallel cousins (and, derivatively, one’s sib-
lings).
10 In Gould’s system, M and F, respectively, stand for some-
one’s mother and father, while M and F, respectively
(representing an M with an overbar and an F with an
overbar), stand for a woman’s child (“motherling”) and
a man’s child (“fatherling”); I represents someone’s self;
J represents someone’s sibling; X represents someone’s
closest (focal) cross relative (i.e., MF or FM). The double
headed arrow, <->, indicates structural equivalence, wherein
the expression on the one side can always be substituted
for the expression on the other side in a kintype spec-
ification without changing the superclass (cf. Romney’s
range set - Romney 1965; Romney and D’Andrade 1964)
to which the kintype belongs. Letters chain as relative
products, so that MM is someone’s mother’s mother, FM is
someone’s father’s motherling (i.e., a cross-cousin), and so
forth.
c) Seneca (i.e., Iroquois), by MFoMM; FM<->
FF (and reciprocally FMgaMM; MFaaFF). Here
one’s mother’s father falls in the same equivalence
class as one’s mother’s mother, and one’s father’s
mother falls in the same class as one’s father’s
father; reciprocally a man’s daughter’s children
fall in the same class as a woman’s daughter’s
children, and a woman’s son’s children fall in the
same class as a man’s son’s children.
d) Tamil (i.e., Dravidian), by FF<->MM; FM<->
MF (and reciprocally FF<->MM; MF<->FM). Here
one’s father’s father falls in the same equivalence
class as one’s mother’s mother, while one’s fa-
ther’s mother falls in the same class as one’s moth-
er’s father. Reciprocally, a man’s son’s children
fall in the same class as a woman’s daughter’s
children, while a woman’s son’s children fall in
the same class as a man’s daughter’s children._
e) Omaha, by EMgaM (and reciprocally MF<H>
M). One’s father’s sister’s child falls in the
same equivalence class as a woman’s child or a
man’s sister’s child; reciprocally one’s mother’s
brother’s child falls in the same class as one’s
mother.
f) Crow, by MFVaF (and reciprocally FMoF)-
One’s mother’s brother’s child falls in the same
equivalence class as a man’s child or a woman’s
brother’s child; reciprocally one’s father’s sister’s
child falls in the same class as one’s father.
I might tentatively extend Gould’s set (cf-
Liu 1986; 38) to descriptive systems by removing
the general classificatory equivalences, and then
defining.
g) Eskimo (as in English), by M<-aE (and recip'
rocally M<->F). Here one’s mother falls in the same
equivalence class as one’s father; reciprocally ^
woman’s child falls in the same class as a man s
child.
Gould’s approach suggests some formal impoj’'
tance for at least one common reading of Morgan s
old (1871) distinction between classificatory and
descriptive systems.
Questions relevant to this base include the
lowing, a) Is any one algebraic approach logically
equivalent to, or subsumable by, others? b) What
is formally or practically at issue in any contrasts
among alternative algebraic approaches? c) H(,eS
any special insight or empirical usefulness acci'LlC
to any one algebraic approach that does not acciL,e
to others?
A problem with any Base 3 approach is thaf
given its comparative ethnological perspective-
omits or ignores some of the further idiosyncra^
regularities or special features that each individua
kinterm system invariably has.
Anthropos 101-2°0
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
215
Typological Base 4
Typological Base 4 is similar to that of Base 3,
but aims at a complete set of equations that gen-
erate all of the categories and relations of each
kinterm system. As such, it represents a stronger
ethnographic focus. A classification could be de-
fined on this kind of base, but it would contain
a great many types (cf. Gould 2000: Appendix
H) - though perhaps with some organizational
groupings of types that we are not yet aware of -
and would thus might get in the way of the kinds
of developmental and comparative generalizations
that ethnology has traditionally aimed at. We see
here what may turn out to be an unavoidable ten-
sion between formal ethnographic descriptions or
analyses of kinterminologies and formal ethnolog-
ical treatments. The distinction has to do with the
banner in which an analysis deals with the specific
details of a given terminology that make that ter-
minology different from other terminologies with
which it is grouped on one or another basis. Read’s
analysis (below) offers an illustration of a Base 4
aPproach.
In Read’s analysis (1984, 2001; Read and
Behrens 1990 - based in part on his reading of
discussions by David Schneider), the generating
efiuations relate kinterm categories to one another,
mther than to genealogical categories as Gould’s
^ase 3 system did. Thus there really are two
differences between Gould’s and Read’s systems.
*he first is the distinction between a comparative
ethnological focus and an exhaustive ethnographic
f°cus (Base 3 vs. Base 4), while the second (Base
^ is the distinction between equations based on
genealogical specifications (kintypes) and equa-
tlons based on kinterms.
The existence of a complete algebraic sys-
tem for generating kinterm categories, including a
specification of term referents, such as that being
eveloped by Read, raises the possibility of a typo-
lo
diat
§!cal ordering based on the generating equations
produce different terminological patterns. The
^search question of what empirical (cognitive,
Clal, linguistic, etc.) situations relate to differ-
ent
0r generating equations (or to different subsets
^ aspects of those equations, depending on how
the^ VaiT) would then be opened up. One question
n posed would concern which of the kinds of
aSSO(
sub ations framed by other formalisms might be
e SUrtlable within such a typology of generating
^nations vs. which might be left outside of such a
aniework. Empirical work within this framework
0r to some degree have to await fuller elaboration
escription of Read’s system; the fact that he is
Vh
r°P0s 101.2006
embedding the system within a computer program
should eventually greatly help with such empirical
assessments.
Typological Base 5
Read’s use of native language categories in his
algebraic analysis (as mentioned above) implies a
Typological Base 5 concerning whether analyses
are based directly on ethnographically provided
native categories, or on ethnologically provided
comparative ones (normally, for kinship, some sort
of kintype specification). In addition to Read’s
algebraic analysis there exist other ethnographi-
cally based analyses, as, particularly, the natural
language approach of Keen (1985) but see also
Kronenfeld (1980b).
An important and basic question concerns what
is at issue in Read’s distinction between a kintype-
based algebraic analysis and a kinterm-based
one - given that, obviously, there exist formal
considerations or devices that tie them together.
These devices relate to what it is that leads
us to label the given terminology as a “kinship
terminology” and they relate to the definitions
(or axioms) by which Read’s initial axiomatic
categories are linked to referents - and thus via
which the results of calculations within the system
can be systematically linked to external referents.
There is a presupposition that I am making -
in the context of the various formal approaches
subsumed by Bases 3, 4, and 5 - that I want to
be explicit about. The best formal account of the
regularities of a kinship terminological system is
not necessarily or automatically the best charac-
terization of either the cognitively salient aspects
of that terminology, or of the social and linguistic
patterns which might be shaping that terminology
(see Kronenfeld in press). The one kind of account
must logically (mathematically) relate to the oth-
ers, but need not be identical in terms of structure,
axioms, operations, etc. These formal aspects of
an account, and the alternative regular computative
mechanisms or cognitive understandings (or con-
straints) which come with them, need each to be
empirically described and analyzed. Communities,
for instance, may well not pick terminological
systems by picking generating axioms, but might
instead select for other more superficial patterns
of relations - and, in effect, just take whatever
axioms come along with the preferred representa-
tion of those targeted patterns. In such a situation,
similar but not identical targeted patterns might
well imply strongly different generating axioms -
216
David B. Kronenfeld
in which case an empirically useful typology
might be of types of patterns, even if those types
cut across the pattern of axiom similarities (see
Kronenfeld 2001a for a discussion of instances).
Data on native speaker conceptualizations seems
important to resolving this issue, even if formal
(systemic algebraic) considerations may also enter
in.
Typological Base 6
Typological Base 7
Typological Base 6, following on Base 5, further
concerns the kinds of terminological elements on
which we are basing our analyses and resulting
typological classifications. The classificatory is-
sue involves the relationship between the set of
kinship lexemes (kinterms proper) or morphemes
(kinship lexemes and bound kinship forms) and the
kinterminological system. Kay (1975) pointed out
that Lounsbury’s Iroquois analysis was of words
that included subject and object morphological in-
flections (bound morphemes); Kay suggested that
the analysis might better have been limited to the
much smaller set of kin morphemes. Kronenfeld
(1991: 24 f.) used a comparison of sibling terms in
English, Spanish, and Fanti to suggest that - at
least if one’s goal is to relate kinterm categories
to the wider culture - one needs to take account
of relevant grammatical markers, but also of rou-
tine semantic constructions. English uses different
lexemes for “brother” and “sister,” while Spanish
uses a single morpheme {Herman-) and depends
on obligatory grammatical suffixes (morphemes)
(-o vs -a) to distinguish brothers from sisters, and
while Fanti has only the single kinship lexeme
(,nua) for siblings and depends on the general
banyin (male) and besia (female) modifier lexemes
to make the distinction. Read (n.d.) has proposed
a form of algebraic analysis which depends on
the analytic distinction between brothers and sis-
ters for its analysis of classificatory systems. The
distinction is routine in Fanti, and important for
apparent Fanti thought about siblings, but is only
coded, as explained, via the use of very general
- and optional - “male” and “female” modifiers.
The same is true for Fanti coding of the distinction
between elder and younger same-sex siblings -
which is also important in Read’s analysis. Fanti
calculations of kinship (see Kronenfeld 1980b)
do take account of the sex of a nua when rel-
evant as sex-of-relative, but do not for nua as
a linking relative where they, instead, use a set
of other devices. We are left, then, with some
serious questions concerning which items properly
should go into a terminological analysis for which
purpose. In particular, what should “count” as a
“kinterm” for kinterminological analysis - mor-
phemes, lexemes, segregates, or something else?
As a seventh entry - and potential reason for
keeping one or another kind of classification in
our overall typological scheme - I would like
to pose the question of whether there exist any
advantages to be reaped (e.g., insights produced,
regularities captured and expressed, native opera-
tions mapped, etc.) from any of the less algebraic
formal approaches currently in use that might be
lost without them. In particular, a) Is there any
special insight represented by Lounsbury’s notions
of separate skewing, merging, and half-sibling op-
erations (1964a) - and by related ones such as
cross-parallel neutralization, spouse-equivalence,
etc.? Certainly they have proven for me to be con-
venient labels for discussing analytically important
processes and distinctions, b) Does Romney’s no-
tation scheme capture anything special - especial-
ly with its parenthetical coding of many extension
operations?11 c) Is there useful typological insight
to be gained from natural language approaches
such as that of Keen (1985)? Keen’s approach
and that of Kronenfeld (1980b; a relative product
analysis of Fanti kinterm categories) both share
a concern with representing how inter-kinterrn-
relations (e.g, in English, “mother’s” “brother” ts
an “uncle”) and kintype assignments to kinterms
(e.g., in English, father’s brother’s sister’s son
is a “cousin”) are calculated in the language of
the kinterminology in question by users of that
language. And, if some useful typological insight
is to be gained from such approaches, does the
11 In particular, as an example of what I am concerned about-
see in Kronenfeld 1989:90 f. how Romney’s notation«-1
scheme (Romney 1965; Romney and D’ Andrade 196 J
captures a key aspect of Morgan’s Omaha (the actuJ
language) data (1871). The Romney scheme allows an easy
summary presentation of the extended kintype patterns f°T
Morgan’s cross and parallel kinterms. It thus allows a
c leaf
presentation of important logical inconsistencies (regard i'1^
reciprocals) in Morgan’s data. At the time I could hncl ’’
other way of showing the relevant patterns so clearly -
there exist other formalisms for capturing this insigb1
especially ones that preserve the focal member-extent
member distinction? Do there exist other situations in win
one or another descriptive or analytic formalism repress
an insight that others have trouble with. If so, is it f°u ^
or conveyed as effectively or clearly by any other f°,nl
means?
Anthropos 101
.2006
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
217
algebraic approach of Read (see Base 4) - based
as it is on native language categories (but more
algebraically framed) - completely subsume either
or both of these?
Conclusion
As it now stands I have offered no new typolo-
gy for organizing the universe of kinship termi-
nologies; instead I have offered only a kind of
meta-typology, a discussion of the overly complex
and possibly redundant list of bases (elements or
features) that seem potentially important for any
new typology. I have enlarged on and spelled out
the major nonterminological concomitants of these
different bases.
The reduction of my list of typologizing bases
and issues to a single powerful typology - or to
at least a small set of alternative classifications -
18 where cross-cultural empirical studies - as well
as comparative regional/culture area studies and
historically oriented comparisons within language
families - have a large role to play. The empirical
Question concerns which of these various formal
approaches or considerations are useful in terms
°f enabling clean and powerful linkages between
terminological systems on the one hand, and so-
Clal, cognitive, historical attributes, on the other.12
Of these potential typologizing bases, Base 1, especially
(in effect, though not explicitly) the version that attends
to the components which distinguish focal referents of
terminological categories from one another, has been the
Uiost studied - since Murdock’s classifications of aunt and
cousin terms picked much of it up (even if the single sex
emphasis tended to preclude exploration of some marking
effects). Significant starts have been made for some of
Ute other typologizing bases. Lounsbury’s classic Iroquois
anteysis (1964b) brought to our attention the sharp differ-
ences between Iroquois- and Dravidian-type cross-parallel
efinitions. Greenberg (1966; chap. 5), in the work on which
'terlove and Romney’s sibling typology paper was based
(see also Kronenfeld 1974), introduced the application of
parking to the comparative treatment of kinship terminolo-
S|es. More recently, Thomas Trautmann has contributed an
'storically considered comparative treatment of terminolo-
§les in the Indian subcontinent (1981) which makes use not
°nly of distinctive focal components, but also of Lounsburi-
a.n equivalence rules. N. J. Allen (1998) has offered a poten-
a developmental sequence that addresses some typologi-
issues and that involves a consideration of some basic
ension patterns. Per Hage has contributed historically
Iented comparative treatments of Oceanic systems and
thahsh (1998a, 1998b, 1999a, 1999b; also see Hage 2001)
the ^ *3ase<^ on an aPPlication of Greenberg’s marking
/j, 0ry yia graph theory to terminological comparisons. I
^enfeld 2001b) have used Sydney H. Gould’s formal-
in t0 aclclress some relevant terminological issues concern-
§ social features and historical transitions.
Anth
r°P°s 101.2006
Ethnographers have to find data that shows which
of these classificatory bases and issues are relevant
to the societies they study and which are not -
and then, amongst the relevant ones, which are
analytically useful.
Recent kinship studies, in general, have had
more of a focus on the kinds of kin groupings and
kin relations that are important in contemporary
societies, than on either classical kinds of kingroup
structures or the terminological patterns considered
pertinent to them. This article - with its focus
on terminology - does not directly relate to these
recent endeavors. But an important aspect of termi-
nological studies has always involved (and contin-
ues to involve) their relationship to kin groups and
relations. Language, including kinterms, is a tool
we collectively create and recreate to enable us to
talk easily and clearly about what matters to us.
Thus, an important question relating to newer (or
more newly attended to) kin groups and relations
concerns what effects, if any, they each have on
kinterm systems and or kinterm usage - and where
no effect is found, why not.
This paper develops out of “Definitions of Cross vs.
Parallel: A Suggestion Regarding Dravidian-Type Sys-
tems,” which was delivered at the 29th Annual Meet-
ing of the Society for Cross-Cultural Research (New
Orleans, LA) as part of the “Sessions in Honor of
A. Kimball Romney,” 25-26 February 2000. I want to
thank Martin Orans, Dwight Read, Judy Z. Kronenfeld,
and anonymous reviewers for helpful comments on ear-
lier drafts.
References Cited
Allen, N. J.
1998 The Prehistory of Dravidian-Type Terminologies. In:
M. Godelier et al. (eds.); pp. 314-331.
Denham, Woodrow W., and Douglas R. White
2005 Multiple Measures of Alyawarra Kinship. Field Meth-
ods 17/1.
Dougherty, Janet W. D., and Charles M. Keller
1985 Taskonomy. A Practical Approach to Knowledge Struc-
tures. In: J. W. D. Dougherty (ed.), Directions in Cog-
nitive Anthropology; pp. 161-174. Urbana: University
of Illinois Press.
Godelier, Maurice, Thomas R. Trautmann, and Franklin
E. Tjon Sie Fat (eds.)
1998 Transformations of Kinship. Washington: Smithsonian
Institution Press. [Papers of the Round Table on Dra-
vidian Kinship, Maison Suger, Paris, June 3-5 1993]
Goodenough, Ward H.
1956a Componential Analysis and the Study of Meaning.
Language 32: 195-216.
1956b Residence Rules. Southwestern Journal of Anthropology
12: 22-37.
218
David B. Kronenfeld
Gould, Sydney H.
2000 A New System for the Formal Analysis of Kinship.
Edited, Annotated, and with an Introduction by David
B. Kronenfeld. Lanham: University Press of America.
Greenberg, Joseph H.
1966 Language Universals. In: T. A. Sebeok (ed.), Current
Trends in Linguistics. Vol. Ill: Theoretical Loundations;
pp. 61-112. The Hague: Mouton.
Hage, Per
1998a Proto-Polynesian Kin Terms and Descent Groups.
Oceanic Linguistics 37: 189-192.
1998b Was Proto-Oceanic Society Matrilineal? The Journal of
the Polynesian Society 107: 365-379.
1999a Linguistic Evidence for Primogeniture and Rank in
Proto-Oceanic Society. Oceanic Linguistics 38: 366-
375.
1999b Marking Universals and the Structure and Evolution
of Kinship Terminologies. Evidence from Salish. The
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 5: 423 -
441.
2001 Marking Theory and Kinship Analysis. Cross-Cultural
and Historical Applications. Anthropological Theory
1: 197-211.
Headland, Thomas N., Kenneth L. Pike, and Marvin Harris
1990 Ernies and Etics. The Insider/Outsider Debate. New-
bury Park: Sage Publications. (Frontiers of Anthropol-
ogy, 7)
Kay, Paul
1965 A Generalization of the Cross/Parallel Distinction.
American Anthropologist 67: 30-43.
1975 The Generative Analysis of Kinship Semantics. A Re-
analysis of the Seneca Dada. Foundations of Language
13:201-214.
Keen, Ian
1985 Definitions of Kin. Journal of Anthropological Research
41:62-90.
Kronenfeld, David B.
1973 Fanti Kinship. The Structure of Terminology and Be-
havior. American Anthropologist 75: 1577-1595.
1974 Sibling Typology. Beyond Nerlove and Romney. Amer-
ican Ethnologist 1: 489-506.
1980a A Formal Analysis of Fanti Kinship Terminology
(Ghana). Anthropos 75: 586-608.
1980b Particularistic or Universalistic Analyses of Fanti Kin-
Terminology. The Alternative Goals of Terminological
Analysis. Man 15: 151-169.
1989 Morgan vs. Dorsey on the Omaha Cross/Parallel Con-
trast. Theoretical Implications. L’Homme 29/109:76-
106.
1991 Fanti Kinship. Language, Inheritance, and Kin Groups.
Anthropos 86: 19-31.
1992 Goodenough vs. Fischer on Residence. A Generation
Later. Journal of Quantitative Anthropology 4: 1-21.
1996 Plastic Glasses and Church Fathers. Semantic Extension
from the Ethnoscience Tradition. New York: Oxford
University Press. (Oxford Studies in Anthropological
Linguistics)
2001a Introduction. The Uses of Formal Analysis re Cognitive
and Social Issues. Anthropological Theory 1: 147-172.
2001b Using Sydney H. Gould’s Formalization of Kin Termi-
nologies. Social Information, Skewing, and Structural
Types. Anthropological Theory 1: 173-196.
2004 Definitions of Cross vs. Parallel. Implications for a New
Typology (An Appreciation of A. Kimball Romney).
Cross-Cultural Research 38: 249-269.
in press Formal Rules, Cognitive Representations, and Learn-
ing in Language and Other Cultural Systems. [To appear
in Language Sciences]
Lehman, F. K. (F. K. L. Chit Hlaing)
1993 The Relationship between Genealogical and Termino-
logical Structure in Kinship Terminologies. Journal of
Quantitative Anthropology 4: 95-122.
2001 Aspects of a Formalist Theory of Kinship. The Func-
tional Basis of Its Genealogical Roots and Some Exten-
sions in Generalized Alliance Theory. Anthropological
Theory 1: 212-238.
Lehman, F. K., and Klaus Witz
1974 Prolegomena to a Formal Theory of Kinship. In:
P. Ballonoff (ed.), Genealogical Mathematics; pp. 111"
134. Paris: Mouton.
Liu, Pin-Hsiung
1986 Foundations of Kinship Mathematics. Nankang, Taipei:
Institute of Ethnology, Academia Sinica.
Lounsbury, Floyd G.
1956 A Semantic Analysis of the Pawnee Kinship Usage-
Language 32; 158-194.
1964a A Formal Account of the Crow- and Omaha-Type
Kinship Terminologies. In: W. H. Goodenough (ed.)»
Explorations in Cultural Anthropology; pp. 351 — 393-
New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company.
1964b The Structural Analysis of Kinship Semantics. In-
H. G. Hunt (ed.), Proceedings of the Ninth Internation-
al Congress of Linguists; pp. 1073-1093. The Hague-
Mouton.
1965 Another View of Trobriand Kinship Categories. In-
E. A. Hammel (ed.), Formal Semantic Analysis; PP-
142-185. Menasha: American Anthropological Asso-
ciation. [American Anthropologist 67/5, Part 2; Specif
Publication]
Nerlove, Sara, and A. Kimball Romney
1967 Sibling Terminology and Cross-Sex Behavior. Ameri'
can Anthropologist 69: 179-187.
Morgan, Lewis Henry
1871 Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity of the Human
Family. Washington: Smithsonian Institution. (Smi*11'
sonian Contributions to Knowledge, 218)
Pike, Kenneth
1967 Language in Relation to a Unified Theory of 11L
Structure of Human Behavior. The Hague: MoutoU-
[2nd edition; first edition in three volumes: 1954, I ’
1960]
Read, Dwight W. ,
n.d. Outline for a General Theory of the Production of bj1
ship Terminologies and Their Relationship to Genoa
gy. Personal communication, 5 November 2002.
1984 An Algebraic Account of the American Kinship Td111
nology. Current Anthropology 25: 417-449. .
2001 Formal Analysis of Kinship Terminologies and Its RL ^
tionship to What Constitutes Kinship. AnthropolaS11
Theory 1:239-267.
Read, Dwight W., and Clifford Behrens , 0f
1990 KAES. An Expert System for the Algebraic Analysl® __
Kinship Terminologies. Journal of Quantitative Aa ■
pology 2: 353-393.
1O1-20«6
Anthropos
Issues in the Classification of Kinship Terminologies
219
Romney, A. Kimball
1965 Kalmuk Mongol and the Classification of Lineal Kin-
ship Terminologies. In: E. A. Hammel (ed.), Formal
Semantic Analysis; pp. 127-141. Menasha: American
Anthropological Association. [.American Anthropologist
67/5, Part 2; Special Publication]
Romney, A. Kimball, and Roy Goodwin D’Andrade
1964 Cognitive Aspects of English Kin Terms. In: A. K.
Romney and R. G. D’Andrade (eds.), Transcultural
Studies in Cognition; pp. 146-170. [American Anthro-
pologist 66/3, Part 2; Special Publication]
Romney, A. Kimball, and Carmella C. Moore
1998 Toward a Theory of Culture as Shared Cognitive Struc-
tures. Ethos 26: 314-337.
Tjon Sie Fat, Franklin
1998 On the Formal Analysis of “Dravidian,” “Iroquois,”
and “Generational” Varieties as Nearly Associative
Combinations. In: M. Godelier et al. (eds.); pp. 59-93.
Trautmann, Thomas R.
1981 Dravidian Kinship. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press. (Cambridge Studies in Social Anthropology, 36.)
Tyler, Stephen A.
1966 Parallel/Cross. An Evaluation of Definitions. South-
western Journal of Anthropology 22:416-432.
Wallace, Anthony F. C., and John Atkins
1960 The Meaning of Kinship Terms. American Anthropolo-
gist 62: 58-80.
Anth
lroPos 101.2006
All the worlds of anthropology
Current
Anthropology
www.journals.uchicago.edu
Editor, Benjamin S. Orlove
Sponsored by the Wenner-Gren Foundation for
Anthropological Research, Inc.
■. Si
J-
um
rop
дапА1. \шп
нт, мпжгг. акп пн mài
: •• . ад»Sfep^1/ЮГ■ .**««»»•* H®»» ■
■ ' ' .................
Т.. Т", , С ■ - ' ;
ISSN: 0011-3204
At the forefront of anthropological research and debate, Current Anthropology
encompasses the full range of humanistic and scientific anthropological scholarship,
studying human cultures and other primate species. CA interprets a wide variety of
areas including social, cultural, and biological anthropology, as well as ethnology and
ethnohistory, archaeology and prehistory, folklore, and linguistics.
Increased Frequency
Beginning in 2006, Current Anthropology will begin publishing an additional issue-
bringing the total to six issues per year. The features that have distinguished CA will
remain, and will be enhanced by an updated layout and cover design.
Current Anthropology Online
Read a sample issue online and sign up for our ®-TOC tables of contents alerts at
www.journals.uchicago.edu
Sign up for Current Anthropology RSS Feeds!
RSS is a free, easy, and automatic way for you to be informed when new journal
issues or articles are published. RSS delivers new article abstracts, simply and
automatically. Sign up for new article abstracts today at www.journals.uchicago.edu.
Online orders: www.journals.uchicago.edu
E-mail orders: subscriptions@press.uchicago.edu
Phone orders: (877) 705-1878 (USA/Canada) or (773) 753-3347 (International)
Fax orders: (877) 705-1879 (USA/Canada) or (773) 753-0811 (International)
Ш
The University of Chicago Press
Journals Division • Box 37005 • Chicago, IL 60637
The
Wenner-Gren
Foundation
11/05
Berichte und Kommentare
Männlichkeit und Weiblichkeit
Wahrgenommene soziale Akzeptanz
bei jungen Kalmyken
Uwe Wolfradt, Andrea E. Schmidt und
Swetlana Solvana
Einleitung
bn Zentrum der vorliegenden Studie steht die Be-
gehung zwischen Geschlechtsrollenidentität und
^ahrgenommener sozialer Akzeptanz bei jungen
kalmykischen Erwachsenen. Um das Verhältnis
2wischen den Geschlechtern in Kalmykien besser
2ü verstehen, ist es in einem ersten Schritt notwen-
dig, einige ethnohistorische Aspekte zu beleuch-
ten, die besonders auf den russischen Einfluss auf
die traditionell nomadisch geprägte kalmykische
Kultur eingehen. Der zweite Schritt, die Situa-
d°n und Wahrnehmung in der heutigen Zeit zu
brachten, basiert auf einer im Jahre 2002 mit
Edierenden der Universität Elista, der Hauptstadt
^alrnykiens, durchgeführten Befragung,
k Kalmykien gehört als autonome Republik zur
Rassischen Föderation und liegt in einer ariden
tePpenzone des Nordkaukasus. Auf einer Fläche
v°n 75.900 km2 (entspricht etwa der Größe Bay-
jRas) lebten im Jahr 2002 292.400 Einwohner in
Ernykien, von denen 45,4 % Kalmyken sind (et-
na 132.750, Volgin 2004); der Rest setzt sich aus
^Rssen (37,7 %), Ukrainern, Kasachen, Darginem,
eißrussen, Tschetschenen und Deutschen zusam-
en- Die Kalmyken sind mongolischer Herkunft
r d Werden deshalb auch als Westmongolen (Oi-
£ er0 bezeichnet.1 Die kalmykische Schrift und
inPrache, die besonders noch von älteren Menschen
c^Jandlichen Regionen geschrieben und gespro-
js Werden, sind mongolischen Ursprungs (alta-
e Sprachfamilie). Die russische Sprache stellt
darte Unter den Kalmyken die Umgangssprache
■ Etwa 40.000 Kalmyken leben heute auch in
nthrop0s 101.2006
der chinesischen Provinz Xinjiang (ehemals Dsun-
garei) (s. hierzu Phillips 2001), da im Jahre 1771
ein Teil der Wolga-Kalmyken nach China zurück-
kehrte.
Die Kalmyken bekennen sich wie die Tuwiner
und Burjaten in Russland zum tibetischen Bud-
dhismus (Lamaismus) (Omakaeva 1997; Bakaeva
2000-2001). Sie sind damit das einzige Volk in
Europa, in dem der buddhistische Lamaismus als
traditionelle Volksreligion ausgeübt wird. Daneben
sind auch noch schamanistische Traditionen Teil
ihres religiösen Lebens.
Die traditionelle wirtschaftliche Lebensgrund-
lage der Kalmyken beruhte fast ausschließlich auf
den Produkten ihrer Herden, mit denen sie saisonal
auf festgelegten Routen wunderten. Sie hielten
Pferde, Schafe, Vieh und wenige Ziegen. Heu-
te betreiben die mittlerweile sesshaften Kalmy-
ken vor allem Agrar- und Viehwirtschaft (Kräder
1963).
Um die Beziehung zwischen den Geschlech-
tern in Kalmykien besser zu verstehen, ist es not-
wendig, einige ethnohistorische Aspekte in den
Vordergrund zu rücken. Insbesondere soll der zu-
nehmende russische Einfluss auf die kalmykische
Traditionalgeseilschaft aufgezeigt werden, der von
einer Veränderung der nomadischen Lebensweise
hin zur Sesshaftigkeit führte. Dieser soziokultu-
relle Prozess schlug sich zum Teil auch in einer
Veränderung der Geschlechterrollen nieder.
Zur Geschichte der kalmykischen Kultur
Die Kalmyken wunderten als Pastorainomaden des
westmongolischen Stammesverbandes der Torgut-
Oirat Anfang des 17. Jahrhunderts in die Step-
1 Hierfür sprechen unter anderem genetische Befunde, die
zeigen, dass die Kalmyken biologisch mit den Burjaten in
der Baikalregion und den Mongolen in der Mongolischen
Republik (äußere Mongolei) verwandt sind (Galushkin,
Spitsyn, and Crawford 2001).
222
Berichte und Kommentare
pengebiete zwischen Wolga und Don ein (Weiers
1989). Zwischen 1630 und 1640 verdrängten sie
hier - aus der Dsungarei und Südsibirien kommend
- die ansässigen Turkvölker aus der kaspischen
Steppe. Ab 1630 und bis 1771 bildeten die Kalmy-
ken hier ein torgutisch-kalmykisches Khanat. Die-
ses Khanat baute zum russischen Zarenreich ein
Vasallenverhältnis auf, in dem die Russen Weide-
gebiete gegen die Ableistung von Kriegsdiensten
und Grenzschutz gegenüber den anderen, musli-
mischen Kaukasusvölkern abtraten. Die Kalmyken
setzten sich aus den vier Hauptstämmen Torgut,
Derbet, Khoshut und Jungar zusammen. Die Be-
zeichnung Kalmyk geht aller Wahrscheinlichkeit
nach - ausgehend von den turksprechenden Nach-
barn - auf den türkischen Begriff kalmak zurück,
der für “dableiben” steht (Khodarkovsky 1992),
nach Kräder (1963) aber auch “Zurückbleiben”
bedeuten kann und sich auf jene bezieht, die nicht
zum Islam konvertierten. Der Begriff wurde zur
Eigenbezeichnung der Torgut-Oiraten und setzte
sich im Laufe des 19. Jahrhunderts schließlich als
ethnische Bezeichnung für alle Kalmyken durch
(Khodarkovsky 1992).
Die kalmykische Traditionalgesellschaft folg-
te einer klaren sozialen Stratifizierung, die durch
patrilineare Verwandtschaftsverhältnisse und wirt-
schaftliche Faktoren (Größe des Weidegrunds,
Reichtum) bestimmt war (Khodarkovsky 1992).
Als größte soziale und administrative Einheit galt
der ulus (Stamm), dem ein politischer Führer
0tayishr, chinesischer Titel) Vorstand. Zu einem
ulus gehörten bestimmte Wandergebiete. Der ulus
bestand selbst aus einer Anzahl von ayimag, eben-
falls Gruppen patrilinearer Abstammung mit ge-
meinsamem Weidegrund. Jedem ayimag stand ein
Führer (zayisang) vor. Je enger die blutsverwandt-
schaftliche Nähe war, desto größer auch die räum-
liche Nähe. Die Größe der ayimag variierte in
der Anzahl der Haushalte und Jurten (kibitken)
und war wiederum von den agnatischen Verwandt-
schaftsbeziehungen geprägt. Die ayimags waren
in khotons aufgeteilt, die einem Führer (Gruppen-
älteste - akhä) unterstanden. Die ulus - ayimag -
khoton Unterscheidung war jedoch nicht nur ei-
ne zivile, sondern auch eine militärische Unter-
teilung in dieser stark autoritären Gesellschaft
(Kräder 1963). Die Gliederung in ulus - ayimag -
khoton unterlag auch einer ausgeprägten sozialen
Hierarchisierung in Adel (tsakhan yasun - weißer
Knochen) und einfache Stammesmitglieder (khara
yasun - schwarzer Knochen). Das einfache Volk
hatte der erblichen Aristokratie Steuern (alban) zu
zahlen und Kriegsdienste zu leisten (Schorkowitz
2001).
Zur Destabilisierung des kalmykischen Khana-
tes kam es durch den Tod von Ajuka Chan im
Jahr 1724 und den seines Verbündeten, Zar Peter
L, im darauf folgenden Jahr. Der Nachfolgestreit
der Nachkommen Ajuka Chans wurde zusätzlich
von den Zarinnen Anna Iwanowna und Katharina
II. durch Intrigen geschürt, um den Einfluss der
russischen Zentralgewalt über die Kalmyken zu
stärken. Eine Einladung des chinesischen Kaisers
Qian Long, in die ehemaligen Ursprungsgebiete
in China zurückzukehren, führte schließlich zum
Exodus eines großen Teils der Kalmyken aus dem
Wolga-Gebiet im Jahr 1771. Außer den Derbet ver-
ließ der Großteil der anderen Stämme das Gebiet.
Das kalmykische Khanat wurde von Zarin Katha-
rina II. daraufhin aufgelöst. Neben diesem Verlust
der Selbständigkeit wurde durch die Ansiedlung
von Russen (aber auch Ukrainern und Deutschen)
und einer konsequenten Konvertierungspolitik der
russisch-orthodoxen Kirche unter den verbliebenen
Kalmyken, denen sich besonders früh der kalmyki-
sche Adel anschloss, die Russifiziemng verstärkt-
Erst unter Zar Paul I. und Zar Alexander I. wurden
die Souveränitätsrechte der Kalmyken garantiert,
indem die Hoheitsrechte über die früheren Sied-
lungsgebiete und eine politische Teilautonomie be-
kräftigt wurden (s. hierzu Khodarkovsky 1992)-
In der Folge wurde die kalmykische Teilautono-
mie durch rivalisierende innerkalmykische Grup-
pen (Adlige der Torgut gegen Adlige der Derbet)
zunehmend geschwächt. Auch durch die Impl#
mentierung administrativer Strukturen wurde dei
russische Einfluss ausgedehnt. Die kalmykische
Verwaltung (lokale und religiöse Administration
der uluse) in Astrachan unterstand beispielsweise
in den Jahren 1838 bis 1866 über einen russischer1
Militärgouvemeur direkt dem Reichsdomänen'
ministerium in St. Petersburg. Dies schloss auch
die Bestätigung der lamaistischen Geistlichen in
Kalmykien durch zaristische Erlässe ein. Im Ja#
1892 wurden schließlich die Rechte der kalnA'
kischen Aristokratie gegenüber dem Volk abge'
schafft (Khodarkovsky 1992). Eine ernsthafte Par'
tizipation der Kalmyken an ihrer Selbstverwaltung’
etwa durch die Entsendung von Deputierten, w#'
de ihnen jedoch vorenthalten. In der nachrevoh1
tionären Zeit konstituierte sich Anfang der 20#
Jahre des 20. Jahrhunderts ein Autonomes Ka
mykisches Gebiet (Oblast), welches im Jahr lc'-'
\0
del{
in eine Autonome Sozialistische Sowjetrepu
(ASSR) innerhalb der Sowjetunion umgewan
wurde (Schorkowitz 2001). Um die aufkomm#1
den nationalen Bewegungen (Ulusismus) und d
Lamaismus zu unterdrücken, mussten die Kahuy
ken in den 1930er Jahren Säuberungen und R’
Anthropos
1OI-2O06
Berichte und Kommentare
223
pressionen erdulden. Ein Teil dieser Politik war
auch das Ersetzen der kalmykischen durch die ky-
rillische Schrift im Jahr 1924. Viele Lama-Priester
und kalmykische Intellektuelle kamen in sowjeti-
schen Arbeitslagern um (Hoffmann 1986). Parallel
dazu verlief die Sesshaftwerdung in den 1930er
Jahren in solchem Maße, dass die Sesshaftigkeit
etwa 72 % gegenüber 17 % in der vorrevoluti-
onären Zeit betrug.
Während des Zweiten Weltkriegs eroberten deut-
sche Truppen Ende 1942 Gebiete von Kalmykien
und gewannen einen Teil der kalmykischen Be-
völkerung für eine Teilnahme in Wehrmachtsver-
bänden (Hoffmann 1986). Als Bestrafung dafür
Wurden die Kalmyken im Jahre 1943 von den sow-
jetischen Behörden nach Mittelasien und Sibirien
deportiert, wobei bis zu 40 % der kalmykischen
Bevölkerung starb. Erst nach dem Tod Stalins durf-
ten die Kalmyken 1957 in ihre nordkaukasische
Heimat zurück und Kalmykien erhielt mit Gebiets-
verlusten schließlich seinen Status als ASSR wie-
der. Die Deportation und anschließende Rückkehr
Verstärkte die Anpassungsbereitschaft der nach-
'vachsenden Generationen an die russische Kultur,
da die kalmykische Sprache und Kultur schwere
Beschädigungen erfahren hatten. Eine Rückbesin-
nung auf die eigenen ethnischen Wurzeln ist erst
lrn Zuge der staatlichen Souveränität seit An-
^hig der 1990er Jahre zu finden, die ihren Nie-
derschlag in der Vermittlung der kalmykischen
Sprache und Kultur an universitären Einrichtungen
und der Neuerrichtung eines lamaistischen Tem-
(khurul) in Elista fand. Das Dorf Elista (die
andige) wurde seit 1927 systematisch zur ersten
Und größten kalmykischen Stadt ausgebaut und
!st heute die Hauptstadt der Republik Kalmykien
'nr>erhalb der Russischen Föderation.
eschlechtsrollenverständnis in Kalmykien
kalmykische Traditionalgesellschaft, d. h. die
.^emeinschaft in ihrer nomadischen Lebensweise
der vorrevolutionären Zeit, zeigte eine stark
j^nnliche Dominanz in allen Lebensbereichen.
den eindeutig zugewiesenen Gesellschaftsrol-
^n mit strenger Arbeitsteilung war der Mann
ständig für die Vieh- und Pferdehaltung, auf
re cher die Lebensform basierte. Die Frauen wa-
, ^antwortlich für den Haushalt und die Er-
^üng der Kinder. Ab dem Alter von 14 Jahren
erj es einer Frau mit der Einwilligung der Eltern
zu heiraten. Nach dem Prinzip der Patrilo-
äes at dm Brat* m den khoton des Eheman-
‘ Prinzipiell war eine Scheidung möglich; für
nthroPos 101.2006
die Frau war eine Trennung aber schwieriger, da
auch die Verwandten der Frau zustimmen muss-
ten (Khodarkovsky 1992). Weibliche Unfruchtbar-
keit war die häufigste Ursache für eine Schei-
dung. Ehefrau und Mitgift kehrten dann zurück zur
Herkunftsfamilie. In der Aristokratie (khans und
tayishis) war Polygynie möglich. Der Tod eines
Mannes führte oft zu einer Heirat der Witwe mit
seinem jüngeren Bruder (Levirat). Diesen männ-
lichen, beziehungsweise patrilinearen Vorrechten
stand ein gewisses Maß an Selbständigkeit der
Frauen gegenüber: Frauen hatten zu Hause einen
hohen Status. So nahmen Frauen an allen wichti-
gen religiösen und sozialen Ereignissen zusammen
mit den Männern teil. Eine Frau konnte allei-
ne reisen, einen Haushalt auch ohne einen Mann
führen und Schulbildung erhalten (Butovskaya and
Guchinova 2001).
Seit der russischen Revolution 1917 kam es
zu umfassenden ökonomischen und politischen
Transformationen (Kräder 1963), die auch eine
Veränderung der Geschlechtsrollen zur Folge hat-
ten. Die offizielle sozialistische Doktrin betonte,
dass Männer und Frauen gleich sind (Geschlechts-
egalitarismus) und nun das Gemeinschaftsprinzip
innerhalb der Gesellschaft vorherrschen sollte (ei-
ne eher feminine Eigenschaft). Die Auswirkun-
gen des Sozialismus zeigten sich deutlich: Die
Kalmyken, die in den 1930er Jahren aufwuchsen,
waren die erste Generation, die geprägt wurde
durch Sesshaftigkeit, neue ökonomische Bedin-
gungen, Atheismus, eine neue Alphabetschrift und
veränderte Beziehungen in der Familie (Butovska-
ya and Guchinova 2001). Besonders die Männer
waren durch den Verlust ihrer traditionellen Ar-
beitsbereiche (Tierhaltung, Militär) gezwungen,
ihre Rollen, meist in der kollektivierten Landwirt-
schaft, neu zu definieren. Frauen nahmen ihrerseits
bis dahin klassische Männerberufe (z. B. Polizistin,
Busfahrerin) auf.
Betrachtet man die Situation im heutigen Kal-
mykien, so schlagen sich traditionelle Rollenmus-
ter noch in der Erziehung nieder. Ein besonde-
res Charakteristikum der kalmykischen Familie
stellt die hohe emotionale Distanz zwischen Eltern
und Kindern dar. Kalmykische Eltern zeigen ihre
Gefühle gegenüber ihren Kindern nicht äußerlich
(z. B. Umarmungen). Sie erwarten von ihnen Ge-
horsam und Respekt und eine frühe Selbständig-
keit. Diese Tendenz zur Selbständigkeit der kal-
mykischen Kinder im Vergleich zu russischen
Kindern wird nach Butovskaya und Guchinova
(2001) bereits im Alter von 6 bis 7 Jahren deut-
lich, da die Grundschüler direkt nach dem Un-
terricht verschiedene Verpflichtungen im Haushalt
224
Berichte und Kommentare
und in der Familie (Beaufsichtigung von jünge-
ren Geschwistern) wahrnehmen. Basierend auf den
systematischen Beobachtungen von Kindern im
schulischen Kontext und den Interviews mit deren
Eltern stellen Butovskaya und Guchinova weiter-
hin fest, dass Jungen strenger erzogen werden als
Mädchen und im Gegensatz zu diesen für Un-
abhängigkeit, Mut sowie Entscheidungskraft be-
lohnt werden. Äußern sich bis dahin traditionel-
le Erziehungsstrukturen, interpretieren Butovskaya
und Guchinova ihre weiteren Daten dahingehend,
dass sich die gesellschaftlichen Transformationen
von einer nomadischen zu einer sesshaften Kultur
in der Veränderung von intergenerationalen zu ei-
ner intragenerationalen Gesellschaft ausdrückten.
Der Einfluss Gleichaltriger gewinnt an Bedeutung.
Während die ältere Generation (vor 1943 in Kal-
mykien geboren und aufgewachsen) noch ein tra-
ditionales Weltbild hat, ist die mittlere Generation
(nach 1943 in Sibirien geboren und aufgewachsen)
durch den Einfluss der 13 Jahre andauernden De-
portation geprägt, während die jüngere Generati-
on (nach 1980 in Kalmykien geboren und aufge-
wachsen) verstärkt durch westliche Medien (z. B.
Werbung, Musik, Internet) in ihrer Lebensweise
beeinflusst wird. Sie hat eine lediglich schwache
Verbindung zu der traditionellen kalmykischen
Kultur. Auf dem Land ist die Hinwendung zur
traditionellen kalmykischen Kultur jedoch noch
stärker als in der Hauptstadt Elista.
Die männlich dominierten Strukturen haben
sich insbesondere durch die Zeit der sibirischen
Deportation hin zu egalitären Strukturen zwischen
Mann und Frau verändert. Butovskaya und Guchi-
nova (2001) berichten sogar, dass die Frauen in
den von ihnen untersuchten Familien mehr Rechte
hatten als die Männer (z. B. bei der Durchsetzung
wichtiger Entscheidungen).
Wie äußern sich nun traditionelle Geschlechter-
stereotype bei den Kalmyken? Butovskaya (2001)
fand bei Siebenjährigen in Elista, dass Jungen
eher Spiele mit physischer Aggression {vyshiba-
la, Fußball) favorisieren als Mädchen. Dies ent-
spricht den traditionellen Rollenmustem, die in
Kalmykien z. B. das Ringen als männliche Sport-
art herausstellten. Generell findet Butovskaya bei
Mädchen eine höhere Tendenz zu Subdominanz
(z. B. durch Identifikation mit dem Opfer eines
Streites), während Jungen eher sozial dominant
auftreten (z. B. durch Identifikation mit dem Ag-
gressor eines Streites). Mädchen schildern die Jun-
gen als streitsüchtig, körperlich stark, rüde und
ungehorsam, während die Jungen die Mädchen als
schwach, weinerlich und gehorsam charakterisie-
ren. Alle kalmykischen Kinder sehen als wich-
tigste männliche Eigenschaften Stärke, Mut, die
Fähigkeit zu sich selbst zu stehen und den Schutz
der Frau an. Demgegenüber nennen die Kinder
als typische weibliche Eigenschaften Schönheit,
Zärtlichkeit und Freundlichkeit. Aufgrund der Ge-
spräche mit den Eltern der besagten Kinder ver-
weisen Butovskaya und Guchinova (2001) auf
Veränderungen im Geschlechtsrollenverhalten ge-
genüber ihrer Eltemgeneration nach der Rückkehr
nach Kalmykien im Jahre 1956: Typische Äuße-
rungen von Vätern waren: “In my parents’ family
my father’s word was never discussed, it went
without saying; but in my own family I might
give way” (2001:69). Typische Äußerungen von
Müttern waren: “Fm more independent than my
mother was, both in the family and Professional-
ly”; “Father was the head of the family, a dictator,
but my husband is softer and he usually agrees
with me” (2001:69). Es kann daher festgestellt
werden, dass für die kalmykische Gesellschaft
als typische männliche Geschlechtsstereotype hohe
Aktivität, Stärke, die Fähigkeit Druck auszuüben,
Selbstbewusstsein und Festigkeit und als typi'
sehe weibliche Geschlechtsstereotype Sanftheit,
Schwäche, Empfindsamkeit, Fürsorge, Ausdauer
und Toleranz anzusehen sind. Dennoch zeigt sich
für die jungen Erwachsenen eine hohe Flexibi'
lität in den Geschlechterrollen, wie die Interviews
ergaben. Besonders Frauen können sich an die
veränderten sozialen Bedingungen besser anpassen
und finden in der heutigen kalmykischen Gesell'
schaft in neuen beruflichen Feldern, neben den
traditionellen familiären Rollen, größere Möglich'
keiten, ihre Unabhängigkeit zu betonen.
Geschlechtsrollenstereotype aus ethnopsycho-
logischer Sicht
In der Ethnopsychologie wird ein Geschlechts'
konstruktivismus angenommen, der davon aus'
geht, dass die Konstrukteure von Geschlechts'
rollen Gesellschaften und Kulturen sind und die
Geschlechtsbedeutungen die Produkte darstellc11
(Trettin 1997). Jede Gesellschaft und jede KulU1
bestimmt also, was es bedeutet, eine “Frau” odcf
ein “Mann” zu sein. Es wird hierbei zwischen
dem biologischen Geschlecht (sex) und dem kw'
turellem Geschlecht (gender) unterschieden.
dieser Unterscheidung soll verdeutlicht werde11,
dass der Körper eines Menschen zwar eine not
wendige, aber keine hinreichende Grundvorait
Setzung bezüglich der Definition der Geschlecht
rolle besitzt. Die Bedeutung des Geschlechtes t
weitreichender und bezieht auch biologische
Anthropos 101.20^
Berichte und Kommentare
225
delle (z. B. die Bedeutung des Hormons Testoste-
ron) mit ein. Des Weiteren wird damit klar, dass
Geschlechtsbedeutungen keine feststehenden und
spezifischen Differenzen zum Ausdruck bringen,
sondern vielmehr als Resultate dynamischer sozio-
kultureller Entwicklungen aufzufassen sind. Kon-
krete Wesensbestimmungen von “männlich” bzw.
“weiblich” sind möglich, wenn auch sehr schwie-
rig. Im sozialen Konstruktivismus soll die biolo-
gische Unterscheidung relativiert werden. Betont
wird hingegen, dass sich die Geschlechtsbedeu-
tungen habituell und konventionell in sprachlichen
und nonverbalen Handlungen von Personen und
Personengruppen manifestieren (Lorber and Farell
1991). Überall dort, wo starke Typisierungen die
sozialen und kulturellen Rollen der Geschlechter
festlegen, hat der Konstruktivismus eine befreien-
de Wirkung, vermittelt er doch die Freiheit zur
üidividuellen Definition der eigenen Geschlechts-
r°He. Eine Möglichkeit, die Geschlechtsrolle zu
bestimmen, ist die Erhebung von Attributen, die
Slch auf Vorstellungen von Maskulinität und Fe-
^ininität beziehen. Bern (1974) entwickelte einen
^gebogen, der sowohl maskuline Selbstbeschrei-
bungen (z. B. dominant, stark, aggressiv) als auch
Ierninine Selbstbeschreibungen (z. B. zärtlich, sen-
^bel, nett) erfasst. Obgleich die maskulinen und
^mininen Attribute aus dem US-amerikanischen
wulturraum entstammen, zeigen verschiedene Stu-
len, dass diese in verschiedenen kulturellen Kon-
nten stabil nachzuweisen sind. Zhang, Norvilitis
ünd Jin (2001) konnten sogar acht maskuline und
acht feminine Eigenschaften nachweisen, die be-
sonders stabil in verschiedenen Kulturen (z. B.
bina, Japan) die Geschlechtsrollenorientierung
v^rspiegeln. Best (2001) zeigte ferner in einem
berblicksartikel, dass die Geschlechtsrollenste-
eotype in 25 Ländern bei College-Studierenden
, . ähnlich sind; Männer werden eher als stärker,
1Ver> dominanter, aggressiver und leistungsori-
ai;ener beschrieben als Frauen, die wiederum
s- schwach, passiv und fürsorglich charakteri-
2<,rt werden. Männer wie Frauen haben in den
untersuchten Ländern ein größeres Bedürfnis
lie S^uFn zu sein als feminin. Dies mag daran
höh611, ^ass Maskulinität bei Studierenden einen
r .eren Wert besitzt, da es mit Aktivität und
^ungsstreben assoziiert ist. Die Studierenden
and b en durch diese Merkmale aus (Williams
der KeSt ^90). Es soll nun untersucht werden, ob
^ige, auf Geschlechtsrollen bezogene Selbst-
den re^bungen auch bei jungen Kalmyken zu fin-
rnenSlnd und wie stark sie mit der wahrgenom-
SOzialen Akzeptanz Zusammenhängen. Eine
le von Popova (1999) an jungen russischen
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
Studierenden im Vergleich zu jungen Amerika-
nern zeigte, dass erstere ein traditionelleres Ge-
schlechtsrollenverständnis haben. So betonten die
jungen russischen Männer stärker die klassische
feminine Rolle, nach der Frauen für die Kinder-
erziehung zuständig seien und der Mann mehr
Rechte in der Ehe habe als die Frau. Eine neuere
Studie von Henderson-King und Zhermer (2003)
zeigte ein geringeres feministisches Bewusstsein
(Zugehörigkeitsgefühl zur Gruppe der Frauen) von
jungen russischen Frauen im Vergleich zu jungen
amerikanischen Frauen (ebenfalls Studierende).
In der vorliegenden ethnopsychologischen Stu-
die werden zwei Ziele verfolgt: Zum einen soll
theoretisch wie empirisch das Konstrukt der
Geschlechtsrollenorientierung an jungen kalmyki-
schen Erwachsenen untersucht werden. Zum an-
deren soll veranschaulicht werden, wie stark aus
der Perspektive der kalmykischen Untersuchungs-
teilnehmer eine Beziehung zwischen Geschlechts-
rollenorientierung und sozialer Akzeptanz in der
Familie und bei Freunden besteht, und wie stark
die Geschlechtsrollenorientierung zu einem star-
ken Selbstwertgefühl beiträgt.
Es wird vermutet, dass trotz der soziokulturel-
len Veränderungen der kalmykischen Kultur eine
traditionelle Auffassung der Geschlechtsrollenste-
reotype, wie in der Studie von Butovskaya und
Guchinova (2001) bei kalmykischen Kindern, auch
bei jungen kalmykischen Erwachsenen vorzufin-
den ist. Hiernach werden generell maskuline Ei-
genschaften als bedeutsamer betrachtet als femini-
ne. Ferner sollte sich aber auch zeigen, dass sich
junge kalmykische Männer stärker als maskulin
charakterisieren als junge kalmykische Frauen, die
sich wiederum stärker als feminin beschreiben,
obgleich sie maskuline Eigenschaften als wichtiger
betrachten.
Befragung von jungen kalmykischen Studierenden
An der kleinen Studie nahmen insgesamt 150
Studierende der Kalmykischen Staatsuniversität
in Elista (Russische Föderation) teil. Die Stich-
probe setzte sich aus 73 Frauen (48,7 %) und
77 Männern (51,3%) zusammen; sie hatten ein
Durchschnittsalter von 19,3 Jahren (SD = 0.99,
Range 18 bis 22 Jahre). 78,7 % der Befragten
lebten noch bei ihren Eltern. 41,3 % studierten
Wirtschaftswissenschaften, 18 % Sprachen, 15,3 %
Geschichte, 10,7 % Ingenieurwissenschaften und
9,3 % Landwirtschaft. 56,5 % der Frauen hatten
einen Freund und 64 % der Männer gaben an, eine
Freundin zu haben. 77,1 % fühlten sich dem bud-
226
Berichte und Kommentare
6
Maskulin-A Maskulin-W Feminin-A Feminin-W
■ Männer (n = 77) E3 Frauen (n = 73)
Abb. 1: Mittelwertunterschiede
zwischen Männern und Frauen
bezüglich der aktuellen (A) Ge-
schlechtsrollenorientierung und
Wichtigkeit (W) der Geschlechts-
rollenorientierung.
dhistisch-lamaistischen Glauben persönlich ver-
bunden.
Es wurde den Studierenden ein Fragebogen vor-
gelegt, der neben einigen demographischen Fragen
folgende Skalen umfasste:
- Die geschlechtsbezogenen Merkmale /Attribu-
te der Geschlechtsrollenorientierung nach Bern
(1974), basierend auf den Überlegungen vonZhang,
Novilitis und Jin (2001), wurden folgendermaßen
erfasst: Maskulinität mit sieben Attributen (unab-
hängig, aktiv, mutig, stark, entschlossen, kraftvoll,
furchtlos) und Femininität ebenfalls mit sieben
Attributen (liebevoll, sanft, feinfühlig, herzlich,
zärtlich, leidenschaftlich, anmutig). Die Teilneh-
mer wurden gebeten, die aktuelle Ausprägung und
die Wichtigkeit für jedes Attribut, bezogen auf ihre
Person auf einer 6-stuhgen Skala einzuschätzen
(1 = “trifft nicht zu” bis 6 = “trifft völlig zu” und
1 = “vollkommen unwichtig” bis 6 = “vollkommen
wichtig”).
- Die Wahrgenommene Akzeptanz-Skala von
Brock et al. (1998), die sich aus insgesamt 44 Aus-
sagen zusammensetzt und folgende Akzeptanz-
bereiche erfasst: (1) Akzeptanz durch die Mutter
(“Meine Mutter ist immer für mich da, wenn
ich sie brauche”), (2) Akzeptanz durch den Vater
(“Wenn ich mit meinem Vater zusammen bin, kann
ich so sein wie ich bin”), (3) Akzeptanz durch
Freunde (“Meine Freunde zeigen mir oft, dass ich
ihnen etwas bedeute”) und (4) Familie (“Ich bin
ein wichtiger Teil im Leben meiner Familie”). Hier
sollten die Untersuchungsteilnehmer einschätzen,
wie stark sie der jeweiligen Aussage zustimmen
(1 = “stimmt überhaupt nicht” bis 5 = “stimmt ge-
nau”).
- Globaler Selbstwert, gemessen mit der Rosen-
berg Self-Esteem Scale (deutsche Fassung: Ferring
und Filipp 1996), bestehend aus insgesamt zehn
Aussagen (z. B. “Ich halte mich für einen wert-
vollen Menschen, jedenfalls bin ich nicht weniger
wertvoll als andere auch”), die auf einer 6-stuhgen
Skala (1 = “stimme nicht zu” bis 6 = “stimme voll-
kommen zu”) eingeschätzt werden sollen.
Der Fragebogen wurde von einer zweisprachi-
gen Übersetzerin von der deutschen in die rus-
sische Sprache übersetzt (von der lateinischen in
die kyrillische Schrift überführt). Ein weiterer bi-
lingualer Übersetzer kontrollierte die Endfassung
und verglich sie mit der Ausgangsfassung. Die
Datenerhebung fand mit Erlaubnis der Leitung der
Kalmykischen Staatsuniversität Elista in Lehrver-
anstaltungen der Universität statt. Die Studieren-
den erhielten in russischer Sprache die Instruktion,
sich den Fragebogen sorgfältig durchzulesen und
die Aussagen in der vorgeschriebenen Reihenfolge
zu beurteilen. Die Bearbeitung des Fragebogens
dauerte etwa 30 Minuten.
Ergebnisse
Die Ergebnisse, die mittels eines Gruppentests
(t-Test) ermittelt wurden, zeigen, dass sich diß
kalmykischen Männer bezüglich der Maskulin!^
deutlich von den Frauen unterscheiden (Abb. Ü-
Sie erreichten den Hypothesen gemäß höhere Ans'
Prägungen auf der Maskulinität als Frauen.
Keine Unterschiede gab es bezüglich der Fe'
mininität und in der Wichtigkeit von Maskulin1*^
und Femininität zwischen Frauen und Männern-
Interessant ist nun, welche der einzelnen maskU'
linen Attribute von den Männern als wichtige1”’
und wie stark ausgeprägt diese dann bei ihne|j
eingeschätzt wurden. Es sind die Attribute “mutig
und “entschlossen”, die als wichtig und als hel
ihnen vorhanden eingeschätzt wurden. Als wicht1»
wird von den Männern allerdings auch das fc,ri1
nine Attribut “liebevoll” gesehen, das bei ihnßt
als wichtiger und aktuell ausgeprägter eingeschu
wird, als dies die Frauen tun. In diesem Konte
Anthropos 101
,2 OÖ6
Berichte und Kommentare
227
ist es interessant, dass von Männern wie Frauen
maskuline Attribute signifikant als wichtiger ein-
geschätzt werden als feminine Attribute. Es ließen
sich ferner keine geschlechtsspezifischen Unter-
schiede bezüglich des Selbstwertes und der wahr-
genommenen Akzeptanz (für alle vier Bereiche)
feststellen.
Welche Beziehung besteht nun zwischen der
aktuellen Geschlechtsrollenorientierung und der
Wahrgenommenen Akzeptanz und dem Selbstwert
(Abb. 2)?
2: Der positive Zusammenhang zwischen Maskulinität
sozialer Akzeptanz sowie Selbstwertgefühl bei jungen
Kalmyken.
Hierzu wurden Korrelationsanalysen durchge-
ührt: In der Gruppe der Männer hängen masku-
lne Atttribute mit der Akzeptanz durch Freunde
Und Familie zusammen und weisen eine po-
jdtive Beziehung zum Selbstwert auf. Bei den
ännern besteht nur eine positive Beziehung
lschen den femininen Attributen und der Ak-
, ePtanz durch Freunde. In diesem Falle sind mas-
j. lne und feminine Attribute bei jungen kalmy-
Schen Männern eher im Freundeskreis sozial
lj.,^Ptiert, während feminine Attribute im fami-
yaren Kontext nicht mit sozialer Anerkennung
p rbunden sind. Demgegenüber besteht bei den
Ratten keine signifikante Beziehung zwischen fe-
^ nmen Attributen, den Akzeptanzbereichen und
dern Selbstwert. Positive Beziehungen lassen sich
tm^egenüber zwischen den maskulinen Attri-
^ en und der wahrgenommenen sozialen Ak-
anZ freunde, Familie) und Selbstwert und
die rie^enheit finden. Ein weiterer Befund der Stu-
bie ?l§t’ ^ass Männer einen höheren Zusam-
{r ^ zwischen Maskulinität und Femininität
Sehe als die Frauen (r=.34, p < .01)
Vhr
°Pos 101.2006
Zusammenfassung und Diskussion
Die kalmykische Gesellschaft war traditionell vor-
wiegend männlich dominiert (Butovskaya and Gu-
chinova 2001). Basierend auf einer nomadischen
Wirtschaftsweise etablierten sich klare Rollener-
wartungen und -muster an Frau und Mann. Die
Frau war für den Haushalt und die Erziehung,
der Mann für die Pferdezucht und Yiehwirtschaft
zuständig. Neben dieser klaren Rollenzuweisung
verfügten die Frauen aber auch über relative Frei-
heiten, die ihnen sozial zugesprochen wurden.
Durch den allmählichen Prozess der Sesshaftwer-
dung verlor die traditionelle Arbeitsteilung zwi-
schen Mann und Frau ihre Bedeutung. Bisher
starre Rollenstrukturen lösten sich allmählich auf.
Durch eine hohe Anpassung an die russische Kul-
tur, durch die Übernahme der Sprache und der
Sitten, die noch durch die Deportationszeit be-
schleunigt wurde, orientierten sich Mann und Frau
in Kalmykien vornehmlich an den modernen Ge-
schlechtsrollenbildern der nicht-kalmykischen sla-
wischen Nachbarvölker (hier Russen und Ukrai-
ner). Durch den Prozess der Öffnung (nach der
Wende der 1990er Jahren) werden die jungen Kal-
myken zudem über Internet, Fernsehen und Filme
westlichen Einflüssen ausgesetzt, die neue Frauen-
und Männerbilder anbieten. Die vorliegende klei-
ne Studie wollte in diesem Zusammenhang das
gegenwärtige Geschlechtsrollenverständnis illus-
trieren. Weiterreichende Schlussfolgerungen sind
aufgrund der erhobenen Fragebogendaten nur be-
grenzt zu ziehen.
Obgleich die durchgeführte Studie nicht re-
präsentativ für kalmykische Frauen und Männer
insgesamt sein kann und die Geschlechtsrolle über
psychologisch konstruierte Merkmalsbereiche em-
pirisch zu erfassen versucht wurde, vermittelt sie
interessante Erkenntnisse über die Auffassung von
Männlichkeit und Weiblichkeit bei jungen Kal-
myken. Gemäß den Ergebnissen halten die von
uns befragten jungen Kalmyken maskuline Eigen-
schaften für wichtiger als feminine Eigenschaf-
ten. Dies entspricht den Befunden der Studie von
Williams und Best (1990). Maskuline Attribu-
te beziehen sich stark auf das Durchsetzungs-
vermögen und das Dominanzverhalten des Ein-
zelnen. Diese Eigenschaften scheinen angesichts
der sozioökonomischen Veränderungen in Kal-
mykien für junge Menschen von hoher Bedeu-
tung zu sein. Dies erklärt auch, dass maskuline
Eigenschaften sehr stark zum eigenen Selbst-
wertgefühl bei jungen Frauen wie bei jungen
Männern beitragen. Demgegenüber sind feminine
Eigenschaften stärker mit Submission und Nach-
228
Berichte und Kommentare
giebigkeit assoziiert. Sie tragen nicht zu einem
höheren Selbstwertgefühl bei den jungen Kalmy-
ken bei.
Interessant sind nun die Unterschiede zwischen
den Männern und den Frauen. Femininität spielt
für die Frauen eine weniger wichtige Rolle als die
Maskulinität für die Männer. Frauen fühlen sich
über ihre maskulinen Eigenschaften bei Freun-
den und der Familie akzeptiert. Männer werden
mit ihren maskulinen Eigenschaften von Eltern,
Familie und Freunden akzeptiert. Eine Verände-
rung im Rollenbild wird hierbei sicherlich in der
Einschätzung der Männer deutlich, dass diese auch
mit femininen Eigenschaften bei Freunden ak-
zeptiert werden. Insbesondere das feminine Attri-
but “liebevoll” scheint zu verdeutlichen, dass der
junge kalmykische Mann sich nicht nur an den
klassischen maskulinen Rollenmustern der Tra-
ditionalgesellschaft orientiert. Stärke und Kühn-
heit gelten trotzdem, wie in vielen Kulturen,
als typische maskuline Eigenschaften (Gilmore
1990), die auch bei den jungen kalmykischen
Männern vorherrschen. Butovskaya und Guchino-
va (2001) heben in ihrem Beitrag den Wandel in
dem Geschlechtsrollenverständnis junger Kalmy-
ken hervor. Obwohl bei den Kindern noch kla-
re traditionelle Geschlechtsrollenmuster bestehen,
kommen im jungen Erwachsenenalter auch femi-
nine Eigenschaften bei den Männern und masku-
line Eigenschaften bei den Frauen stärker zum
Tragen, da nur eine flexible Geschlechtsrollen-
orientierung eine bessere Anpassung an die so-
ziokulturellen Veränderungen ermöglicht. In dem
alten kalmykischen Märchen “Das Mädchen, das
einem Jungen ähnelte” schlägt sich ein Mädchen
in Männerkleidern durch verschiedene Abenteuer
und wird später die Frau des Khans (Dshambi-
nova 1993). Dieses Beispiel zeigt, dass bereits
in der mythischen Tradition der Kalmyken Frau-
en maskuline Eigenschaften zugestanden wurden,
um ihre Ziele zu erreichen. Dies erklärt viel-
leicht, warum sich in der vorliegenden Studie
junge Männer und junge Frauen nicht bezüglich
der Femininität unterschieden und eher maskuline
Eigenschaften bei den Frauen mit Selbstvertrauen
assoziiert sind. Die Ergebnisse der vorliegenden
Studie vermitteln ein Bild von jungen Kalmyken,
die im Gegensatz zu früheren Generationen, ein
flexibleres Verständnis von ihrer Geschlechterrol-
le haben. Möglicherweise sind Männer bereiter
einzelne feminine Eigenschaften zu präferieren,
wenn hieraus eine bessere Anpassung an die so-
ziokulturellen Anforderungen möglich wird. Die
identische Entwicklung ließ sich für die Frauen
zeigen, auch wenn beide Geschlechter maskuli-
ne Eigenschaften als bedeutsamer einschätzten als
feminine Eigenschaften. Im Sinne des Sozialkon-
struktivismus zeigt die Studie, dass Geschlechts-
rollen Ergebnisse dynamischer soziokultureller
Entwicklungen darstellen (Trettin 1997). Weitere
wichtige Ergebnisse sozialwissenschaftlicher For-
schung könnten durch Untersuchungen der Ent-
wicklung der Geschlechtsrollenmuster in verschie-
denen Altersgruppen und ländlichen Regionen
erzielt werden. Die vorliegende Studie konnte le-
diglich ein Schlaglicht auf das Geschlechtsrol-
lenverständnis junger kalmykischer Studierender
nehmen. Wie lang dieser Parallel verlauf von Ge-
schlechtsrollenmustem und realen Geschlechtsrol-
len nachzuweisen ist, bleibt zukünftiger Forschung
überlassen.
Zitierte Literatur
Bakaeva, E. P.
2000-2001 Buddhismus (Lamaism) in Kalmykia. Anthropol-
ogy and Archaeology of Eurasia 39: 4-87.
Bern, Sarah, L.
1974 The Measurement of Psychological Androgyny. Journal
of Consulting and Clinical Psychology 42: 155-162.
Best, Deborah L.
2001 Gender Concepts. Convergence in Cross-Cultural Re'
search and Methodologies. Cross-Cultural Research 35-
23-43.
Brock, Douglas M., Irwin G. Sarason, H. Sanghvi, and
Regan A. R. Gurung
1998 The Perceived Acceptance Scale. Development and Val'
idation. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships
15:5-21.
of
Butovskaya, Marina L.
2001 Reconciliation after Conflicts. Ethological Analysis
Post-Conflict Interactions in Kalmyk Children. In; J- ' j
Ramirez and D. S. Richardson (eds.), Cross-Cultnta
Approaches to Aggression and Reconciliation; pp-
190. Huntington: Nova Science Publishers.
Butovskaya, Marina L., and E. B. Guchinova
2001 Men and Women in Contemporary Kalmykia. Tra
tional Gender Stereotypes and Reality. Inner Asia
61-71.
Dshambinowa, Jelena
1993 Märchen der Kalmücken. Frankfurt: Fischer Verlag-
Ferring, Dieter, und Sigrun-Heide Filipp , , t
1996 Messung des Selbstwertgefühls. Befunde zu Reliabil,ta
Validität und Stabilität der Rosenberg-Skala. DiaS,llh
tica 42: 284-292.
Galushkin, S. K., V. A. Spitsyn, and M. H. Crawford
2001 Genetic Structure of Mongolic-Speaking Kalmyks-
man Biology 73: 823-834.
Anthropos 101-2()0
Berichte und Kommentare
229
Gilmore, David D.
1990 Manhood in the Making. Cultural Concepts of Mas-
culinity. New Haven; Yale University Press.
Henderson-King, Donna, and Natalya Zhermer
2003 Feminist Consciousness among Russians and Ameri-
cans. Sex Roles 48: 143-155.
Hoffmann, Joachim
1986 Deutsche und Kalmyken 1942-1945. Freiburg; Rom-
bach Verlag. [4. Aufl.]
Khodarkovsky, Michael
1992 Where Two Worlds Meet. The Russian State and the
Kalmyk Nomads, 1600-1771. Ithaka: Cornell Univer-
sity Press.
Kräder, Lawrence
]%3 Social Organization of the Mongol-Turkic Pastoral
Nomads. The Hague: Mouton. (Indiana University
Publications, Uralic and Altaic Series, 20)
Locher, Judith, and Susan A. Farrell
1991 The Social Construction of Gender. Newbury Park:
Sage Publications.
Ofnakaeva, Ellara U.
1997 The Traditional Culture and the Revival of Buddhism in
Kalmykia. Some Fundamental Problems. International
Journal of Central Asian Studies 2; 106-113.
^hillips, David J.
^0l People on the Move. Introducing the Nomads of the
World. Pasadena: William Carey Library.
^°pova, Ludmilla V.
99 Russian and USA University Students’ Attitudes toward
Female Social Roles. Feminism and Psychology 9: 75-
88.
^rhorkowitz, Dittmar
91 Staaten und Nationalitäten in Russland. Der Integrati-
onsprozess der Burjaten und Kalmücken, 1822-1925.
Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag.
fetin> Käthe
7 Probleme des Geschlechtskonstruktivismus. In: G. Völ-
ger (Hrsg.), Sie und Er. Frauenmacht und Männer-
herrschaft im Kulturvergleich. Bd. 1; pp. 41-46. Köln:
Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum Köln. (Ethnologien, Neue
Folge, 22)
2oo^n’ ^a<Rm'r
The Migration Situation and Migration Policy in Kal-
mykia. Central Asia and the Caucasus 3; 20-31.
U^rs’ Michael
Stämme und Verbreitungsgebiete; Sprache, Wesenszüge.
In: W. Heissig und C. C. Müller (Hrsg.), Die Mongolen;
PP- 113-117. Innsbruck: Pinguin-Verlag.
199()aiT,S’ J°hn, and Deborah L. Best
Measuring Stereotypes. A Multination Study. Newsbury
Lnrk; Sage Publication.
200'^ JR? Jill M. Norvilitis, and Shenghua Jin
Measuring Gender Orientation with the Bern Sex Role
Inventory in Chinese Culture. Sex Roles 44: 237-251.
nthr°P°s 101.2006
Syncretism in Religion
Jacob Pandian
The investigation of the origin, history and use(s)
of the concept of syncretism and the investigation
of the phenomenon which the concept identifies
are undoubtedly very important and significant
in the anthropological, theological, historical, and
philosophical studies of religion. This volume en-
titled “Syncretism in Religion: A Reader”1 brings
together diverse scholarly perspectives on the con-
cept of syncretism, as well as on the operation of
syncretism in the history of religious traditions,
and sheds much light for an understanding of the
historical, cultural, and cognitive processes that
shape religious traditions.
The volume, as a whole, makes the reader
reflect upon the validity of the concept of syn-
cretism and provides useful information to explore
the question of why the study of syncretism in
particular religious traditions is important. The
nineteen articles included in this volume examine
various issues and questions on the concept of
syncretism and seek to stimulate further research
on the processes of syncretism. Some scholars
doubt the usefulness of the concept of syncretism
and do not see the need for a separate area of
scholarship on syncretism in religious traditions
because everything in culture (including religion
as an aspect of culture) is syncretistic. Such a per-
spective suggests that scholarship on syncretism
erroneously assumes the existence of “pure cul-
tures” or “pure religions” or “pure religious doc-
trines” and that believers and theologians falla-
ciously attempt to identify immutable essences.
However, most scholars would favor the reten-
tion of the concept and the analysis of the phe-
nomenon of syncretism because doctrinal disputes
over syncretism (by themselves) constitute foun-
dational beliefs in most religious traditions. Also,
most scholars would advocate the investigation of
the origin and history of such disputes that result
from syncretism in relation to the arguments of
both the proponents and opponents of syncretism
in the different religious traditions for an under-
standing of the dynamics of cultural, historical,
and cognitive processes that promote or undermine
syncretism.
1 Leopold, Anita Maria, and Jeppe Sinding Jensen (eds.):
Syncretism in Religion. A Reader. London: Equinox Pub-
lishing, 2004. 402 pp. ISBN 1-904768-65-2.
230
Berichte und Kommentare
From an anthropological perspective, all cul-
tural realities, including religion, are products of
multiple combinations, and most anthropologists
would agree that we distort the scholarly under-
standing of phenomena if we confuse scholar-
ly models of cultural reality and the folk (be-
liever’s) models of cultural reality. Believers and
theologians of particular religious traditions may
use typologies and taxonomies to justify or extol
their interpretations and may seek to protect their
traditions against what they perceive and believe
to be the dangerous blending of their pure (of-
ten revealed) doctrinal beliefs. Anthropologists are
frequently faced with the problem of whether they
should go beyond describing such interpretations
and discuss whether the believer’s interpretations
are right or wrong historically and anthropological-
ly. Anthropologists are not the only scholars who
are faced with the problem of having to separate
or delineate the folk and scholarly models of cul-
tural reality. Historians of religion, whose focus is
generally the study of “world religions,” describe
and interpret the historical blendings in all these
religions, and various disputes have arisen among
the historians of religions and theologians over
the interpretations of such blendings. Often, the
study of the diversity of interpretations becomes
a separate area of scholarship on these religions,
and research publications in the diversity of inter-
pretations of syncretism in Judaism, Christianity,
and Islam constitute, perhaps, a multibillion dollar
industry.
From the foregoing discussion, it is obvious that
the conceptual understanding of syncretism and
the historical understanding of syncretic process-
es are vitally necessary. The Greek moralist and
biographer Plutarch (first century A.D.) is reputed
to have coined the term “syncretism” to denote
the phenomenon of how different Cretan tribes
became unified when faced with external threats
to their survival. Syncretism, from Plutarch’s per-
spective, connoted positive attributes of unity, but
its application in relation to the doctrinal disputes
of the Catholic and Protestant Churches resulted in
its acquiring negative attributes, particularly in the
17th-century (Reformation) discourse on the purity
and the dangers of blending doctrines. The Ran-
dom House Dictionary (1966) defines syncretism
as “the attempted reconciliation or union of differ-
ent or opposing principles, practices, or parties”;
“syn” is “a prefix occurring in loan words from
Greek.” The folk and scholarly uses of the term
syncretism as a concept to discuss cultural trans-
missions of any kind that resulted in combinations
and synthesis of different elements would not have
become a problem if the concept had not become a
contentious ideology and was used as a pejorative
term in Christian theology.
Hendrik Kraemer, in his essay “Syncretism,”
(included in this volume) notes that: “The term
syncretism has always more or less had the con-
notation of expressing the illegitimate mingling of
different religious elements. This peculiar concep-
tion of syncretism could only grow in a Christian
atmosphere - and has actually grown there, for
the word and the concept are a result of theologi-
cal controversies in seventeenth-century Protestant
theology - where it is legitimate and obligatory to
speak about illegitimate mingling, because an ab-
solute standard of reference is implicitly assumed.
From the standpoint of the naturalist religions,
however, it is not correct to speak of syncretism
as an illegitimate and unexpected proceeding, be-
cause it is just what one should expect to happen”
(41). Kraemer’s view that “naturalist religions” are
“tolerant” towards borrowing and blending of be-
liefs and practices of different religious traditions
as opposed to religions such as Christianity (which
are conceptualized as “revealed” religions) is not
valid.
Religions or religious traditions everywhere
seek to promote coherence and meaning among
the believers as well as create and maintain bound-
aries. Religions such as Christianity and Islam are
products of syncretism, although most believers
of these religions reject theologically the syncret-
ic origins and development of Christianity and
Islam. There are numerous anthropological and
historical studies that have documented the cultural
adaptations and modifications of both Christiani'
ty and Islam that occurred over the past several
centuries in relation to their becoming religion8
aspects of diverse cultural traditions, replacing the
preexisting religious traditions. During the paSl
five centuries, the Roman Catholic Church tra'
dition had found ways to adapt Christianity 10
the non-Western cultural traditions. Missionaries
in India, China, Africa, and the Americas founn
ways to relate the prevailing customs to those
of Christian beliefs and rituals. As the editor ^
of the volume note: “Ever since the syncretism
strife that was the outcome of the Reformation, the
Protestant Church has been more anti-syncretist'c
than the Roman Catholic Church. However, the
Roman Catholic Church has, as result of a long1"1
tradition of mission, developed a wider frame f°
adapting new or foreign elements within the fran1^
of Church theology and policy. In the 1960s,
new turn of Church policy promised a more ireI1 ^
attitude toward syncretism following the mo,w
Anthropos
Berichte und Kommentare
231
severe accusations against it in the eighteenth
century” (18).
The organization of the volume into seven parts,
with the middle five parts composed of essays
on the subject of syncretism by scholars of dif-
ferent fields, is thematically confusing. Perhaps,
the value of this volume as well as the clarity
of the discourse on the topic would have been
enhanced had the editors provided discourses on
the perspectives of the contributors (and of their
disciplinary and academic affiliations), and had the
papers been grouped into sections that characterize
and summarize the disciplinary perspectives of
the authors, namely, “the perspective of cultural
anthropology,” “the perspective of the history of
religion,” “the perspective of theology,” and “the
perspective of cognitive sciences.” In its present
form, part two (the second section of the volume)
deals with the historical and etymological back-
ground of the category of syncretism, and includes
five essays: These are Hans G. Kippenberg’s “In
Praise of Syncretism: The Beginnings of Christian-
ity Conceived in the Light of a Diagnosis of Mod-
ern Culture”; Hendrik Kraemer’s “Syncretism”;
Robert D. Baird’s “Syncretism and the History of
Religions”; Michael Pye’s “Syncretism and Am-
biguity”; and Kurt Rudolph’s “Syncretism: From
theological Invective to a Concept in the Study of
Religion.”
Part III has three chapters: These are Gerardus
van der Leeuw’s “The Dynamism of Religions.
Syncretism. Mission”; Hendrik M. Vroom’s “Syn-
Cretism and Dialogue: A Philosophical Analysis”;
and Roger Bastide’s “Problems of Religious Syn-
Cretism.” Parts IV, V, and VI have very insightful,
ar,thropological and historical essays on the subject
syncretism that utilize empirical, ethnographic,
and historical data to offer insights into the na-
Ure of the mind and the historical and cultural
Pr°cesses that support or oppose syncretism. The
authors discuss how syncretistic beliefs and rituals
!fe made meaningful to the believers with the syn-
esis or adaptation of preexisting and borrowed
^ges of deities and doctrines.
The following five articles are included in part
j which the editors characterize as “Religions
Contact: Power, Syncretism, and Creolization.”
^ndrew Apter’s article on “Herskovits’s Heritage:
ofr hiding Syncretism in the African Diaspora”
buters un excellent interpretation of the contri-
^ 10ns of the American anthropologist Melville
fion’k°VitS who set the agenda for “accultura-
p0 studies and the analysis of African dias-
lr .. and African-American cultural and religious
11;ions in the first half of the 20th century.
Anthr°Pos 101.2006
Carlos Guillermo Wilson’s article “The Caribbean:
Marvelous Cradle-Hammock and Painful Cornu-
copia” examines the process of creolization in the
Caribbean. Gustavo Benavides notes in his essay
“Syncretism and Legitimacy in Latin American
Religions” that “In the Andean context, a syn-
cretistic Christianity would be one in which, for
example, the Christian god incorporates, although
without fully assimilating, elements of Andean
gods, especially of Andean creator gods, such
as Wirakocha or Pachacamac” (197). In his ar-
ticle entitled “Syncretism, Power, Play,” André
Droogers observes: “In the supernatural dimen-
sion, the African gods gave to the believers the
religious power that was expressed in spirit posses-
sion. The identification with Catholic saints rein-
forced this effect. The power from spirit possession
stimulated syncretism, since every spirit medium
is a legitimate producer of religion” (233). Armin
W. Geertz’s article “Worlds in Collusion: On So-
cial Strategies and Misrepresentations as Forces of
Syncretism in Euro-American and Native Ameri-
can Affairs” deals with the persistence of the Hopi
traditional ways of thinking despite acculturation,
resulting in borrowings and syncretism, achieved
through the vehicle of religious prophetism.
Part V is composed of three articles: Charles
Stewart has given us an excellent anthropological
discourse on syncretism in his article “Relocating
Syncretism in Social Science Discourse”; Luther
H. Martin, a historian of religion, explores the
relevance of cognitive sciences and cultural an-
thropology in his article “Syncretism, Historicism,
and Cognition: A Response to Michael Pye”; and
in the third article, “The Concept of ’Syncretism’;
An Instrument of Historical Insight/Discovery?”
Ulrich Berner, also a historian of science, assumes
the universality of syncretism and offers a sys-
temic theory of syncretism. Luther Martin and
Ulrich Berner focus their attention on developing
heuristic models of syncretism, using the insights
and findings of cognitive and social sciences.
Charles Stewart, an anthropologist, has analyzed
the historical, political, and cultural contexts in
which the concept of syncretism is used or mis-
used, and he correctly points out that: “Ultimate-
ly the anthropology of syncretism is not con-
cerned with pronouncing whether Buddhism, or
any other religion, is or is not syncretic, but rather
with studying the various arguments made for or
against the notion of religious mixing. I think it
should be concerned with competing discourses
over mixture, whether syncretic or anti-syncretic.
Wherever syncretism occurs, or has occurred, it is
usually accompanied by a parallel discourse which
232
Berichte und Kommentare
might be termed meta-syncretic: the commentary,
and registered perceptions of actors as to whether
amalgamation has occurred and whether this is
good or bad. A strictly objectivist view could never
be sufficient” (282).
Part VI, which the editors identify as “Current
Approaches to Syncretism in the Study of Reli-
gion,” has three chapters. In the first chapter called
“Orthosyncretism: An Account of Melding in Re-
ligion,” Timothy Light deals with an exploration
of “the cognitive structure of religious knowledge”
much like Luther Martin (discussed briefly in the
previous paragraph), and he offers “a scheme at-
tempting to account for the human cognitive ap-
paratus which makes religious change, including
syncretism, a normal human development” (341).
In the second chapter called “Religious Tenden-
cies in Greece at the Dawn of the Twenty-first
Century - An Approach to Contemporary Greek
Reality,” Panayotis Pachis examines the nature
of religious syncretism in Greece with reference
to Greek neo-Paganism and Helleno-Christianity.
In the third, last chapter entitled “Medicine-Men,
Modernity and Magic: Syncretism as an Explana-
tory Category to Recent Relgious Responses and
Magical Practices among Urban Blacks in Con-
temporary South Africa,” Kirstine Munk offers
an explanation of the “tremendous upsurge in the
quest for traditional magical practices among mod-
ern South Africans.” She notes that “empirical case
studies show that syncretistic elements in rituals
of crisis become both necessary and crucial parts
of the process of human reformation in modern
South Africa and other places, where people have
to recreate themselves and the order of their worlds
in new and foreign contexts” (371).
Obviously, this edited volume includes essays
that are significant and useful for the study of
syncretism as a general, universal phenomenon
of culture, history, religion, and the human mind.
These papers help us to gain an understanding of
various questions and issues related to the concept
and processes of syncretism, and we are made
aware of the existence of studies on syncretism
in the disciplines of history of religion, cultural
anthropology, and cognitive science. But, collec-
tively, has the volume succeeded in providing us
with a scholarly, disciplinary, or interdisciplinary
agenda for the study of syncretism? Unfortunately,
the answer is “no.” As I had pointed out earlier,
the organization of the chapters lacks coherence,
and it would have served the editors and read-
ers well if the chapters were organized into sec-
tions on different disciplinary perspectives (such as
“anthropological perspective,” “historical perspec-
tive,” and so on), along with brief discourses on
these perspectives, their significance and relevance
for the study of syncretism.
Perhaps, the study of syncretism would advance
greatly if we conceptualize it as an aspect of
globalization and transnationalism. The study of
globalization and transnationalism has become a
major concern in the contemporary scholarship of
humanities, social and behavioral sciences. An-
thropologists, social and political scientists, and
literary scholars have analyzed the processes of
globalization and transnationalism with reference
to various aspects of culture, including religion.
Studies of religions such as Buddhism, Christian-
ity, and Islam are increasingly conceptualized as
examples of studies in transnational religions that
had adapted (and are adapting) to diverse cultural
traditions, and scholars have applied the concept
of syncretism to identify the processes of creoliza-
tion in these religious traditions. One of the early
anthropological studies in transnational religions
was on Islam (by the eminent American cultural
anthropologist, Clifford Geertz) which examined
how Sunni Islam was adapted in Morocco and in
Indonesia. Geertz identified two local saints, Sidi
Lyusi of Morocco and Sunan Kalidjaga of Indone-
sia, as the symbolic mediums through whom Islam
was made meaningful in different ways despite
their following the same doctrines of Islam. Sidi
Lyusi and Sunan Kalidjaga were agents of syn-
cretism, whom we could identify also as transna-
tional or transcultural agents of globalization. The
syncretism in this instance was the Moroccaniza-
tion and the Indonesianization of Islam: the be-
lievers of Sunni Islam found the coherence and
meaning of Islam in the symbols of Sidi Lyusi
of Morocco and Sunan Kalidjaga of Indonesia-
In other words, Moroccans comprehended Islam'
ic spirituality through the symbol of Sidi Lyusi
which synthesizes Islam and Moroccan values,
and Indonesians comprehended Islamic spiritual'
ity through the symbol of Sunan Kalidjaga which
synthesized Islam and Indonesian values.
There are numerous other studies on global arm
transnational acculturation - assimilation as wd
as resistance to assimilation - that explore the urn
conscious and conscious processes of syncretism-
In the globalized world of today, creolization haS
become the norm even when many groups at'
tempt to reject and deny creolization as a process
that takes place in their lives. In the contempt
rary, globalized cultural experience, an indivi
ual’s identity crosses the boundaries of religi011,
culture, and state, and an individual participateS
in the “global supermarket of culture” select^
Anthropos
Berichte und Kommentare
233
elements from the global culture consciously or
unconsciously. In such a global context of human
life, the study of syncretism and antisyncretism,
at both the conscious and unconscious levels, re-
quires greater scholarly attention. It is obvious that
disciplinary inquiries into syncretic and antisyn-
cretic processes of coherence and conflict will help
us understand the cognitive, historical, and cultural
processes of human life that generate coherence
and conflict, and thus help in minimizing global
conflicts and crises. An understanding of why or
how people are “open” or “closed” to the idea
and the reality of syncretism is a vital necessity,
and I believe that the edited volume “Syncretism
in Religion: A Reader” by Anita Maria Leopold
and Jeppe Sinding Jensen is a good beginning
to promote theoretical explorations and empirical
research on this most important topic.
References Cited
Leopold, Anita Maria, and Jeppe Sinding Jensen (eds.)
2004 Syncretism in Religion: A Reader. London: Equinox
Publishing.
^andom House Dictionary
^66 The Random House Dictionary of the English Lan-
guage. New York; Random House.
Economic Systems of Foraging,
Agricultural, and Industrial Societies
Herbert Dannhaeuser
n this new book1 Frederic Pryor provides the
^ader with an empirical foundation for the study
economic systems encountered in foraging,
^cultural, and industrial societies. This work
es not break new theoretical grounds. Instead,
relates quantifiable data to theories and models
a } k.ave been constructed by others. In that it is
ecidedly inductive contribution to comparative
Gnomics.
Sys^e main unit of analysis is the economic
eru, those institutions that involve property
rr ---
y°r, Frederic L.: Economic Systems of Foraging, Agri-
., ,Llraf and Industrial Societies. Cambridge: Cambridge
diversity Press, 2005. 316 pp. ISBN 0-521-61347-7. Price:
*■ 17.99.
nthroPos 101.2006
rights and the distribution of resources. In this
formulation, technology, natural resources, and
human capital are external to the economic system,
though part of its overall economy.
Pryor addresses the following issues. He hopes
to discover whether there are distinct economic
systems found in foraging, agricultural, and in-
dustrial societies; whether environmental and in-
stitutional contexts determine economic systems;
whether economic performance is influenced by
economic systems; whether there is a tendency for
certain economic systems to evolve into others;
finally, to determine whether specific economic
systems are likely to cause societies to change
from foraging to agriculture or from agriculture
to industry.
Methodologically this work is quantitative and
comparative in nature. The author relies on the
Standard Cross Cultural Sample (SCCS) of George
Murdock and Douglas White in the case of prein-
dustrial societies; for industrial ones, the OECD
serves as the source of data. To identify the var-
ious types of economic systems Pryor turns to
the cluster analysis of property and distribution
variables as they are found respectively in for-
aging, agricultural, and industrial societies. The
author is very aware of the pitfalls such an ap-
proach can entail. He admits, for instance, that the
samples themselves represent a bias because they
are not randomly selected. Moreover, he realizes
the difficulty resulting from preindustrial societies
being contaminated through “contact with the West
and by modem technologies and institutions ...”
(23). He therefore chooses societies in which the
effect of these contacts when first studied were
relatively minor. He is also cautious in deriv-
ing correlation from causation, always indicating
that even a significant association between vari-
ables only suggests a causal linkage, it does not
prove it.
On the basis of 44 foraging societies, Pryor
identifies four institutions associated with distri-
bution: the degree of wealth inequality, existence
of food sharing, importance of trade, and the
presence of taxation/tribute. With respect to prop-
erty, he identifies six institutions: possession of
land, private food stock, slavery, inheritance ar-
rangements, marriage wealth transfers, and “own-
ership” of intangibles (such as of healing pow-
ers). A cluster analysis reveals that six econom-
ic systems can be identified among forager. One
of them (consisting of six societies, such as the
!Kung of Namibia and Soriono of Brazil) consti-
tutes the classic foragers type in which sharing
is emphasized. A transitional foragers type (e.g.,
234
Berichte und Kommentare
the Semang of Malaysia and Yahgan of South
America) is similar to the classic one, though it
is characterized by the more exclusive posses-
sion of land. Rather than considering these two
types as a standard that define typical foraging
societies, as many scholars do, Pryor shows that
most of the foraging societies in his sample actual-
ly exhibit alternative types of economic systems.
These he labels human-wealth-oriented societies
(e.g., the Comanche; they stress wealth in hu-
man beings), intangible-wealth-oriented societies
(e.g., Badjau of the Philippines; they have high
inequality of wealth), politically oriented societies
(Ainu of Hokkaido; taxes and tribute to leaders are
important), and physical-wealth-oriented societies
(found mainly in the northern rim of the Pacific;
characterized by capital intensive production). It is
of interest that according to the Robert Cameiro’s
Guttman scale of economic development that em-
phasizes technology and division of labor, classic
and transitional foragers exhibit the lowest average
level of development, the last two - politically ori-
ented and physical-wealth-oriented ones - show
the highest level, while the human-wealth and
intangible-wealth societies are between the others
in their development. This does not mean, howev-
er, that these types of economic systems represent
evolutionary stages and that the systems associated
with the highest development stage were the most
likely to transit into agriculture.
Can determinants of economic systems found
among foragers be identified? The author discov-
ered hardly any significant associations between
social structural (e.g., family, marital form) and
economic systems. And only in the case of the
physical-wealth-oriented type does the environ-
ment seem to be important as most of these for-
agers are located in harsh environments needing
considerable capital goods for survival. Conse-
quently, there is little overall evidence that for-
aging economic systems are culturally and social-
ly embedded, in contrast to (according to Pryor)
what anthropologists and others influenced by Karl
Polanyi usually assume.
In his discussion of the transition from foraging
to farming societies Pryor distinguishes between
proto-plant-production (such as fire stick agricul-
ture), which probably was practiced for tens of
thousands of years by foragers, and the appearance
of full-scale agriculture some 10,000 years ago.
There probably was considerable continuity be-
tween societies engaged in proto-plant-production
and those moving into agriculture. That is why
Pryor rejects the notion of “agricultural revolu-
tion” (91). Because agriculture in the proto form
seems to have increased labor productivity, while
full-scale agriculture reduced it the question arises
why agriculture appeared when and where it did.
To answer this, Pryor takes a sample of 135 trib-
al and peasant societies from the SCCS sample
and arranges them according to the importance
of agriculture. He then measures the degree to
which a wide range of conditions is associated
with the differential reliance on agriculture. The
conditions range from environmental/geographical
factors, stress on resources, sedentarism, to so-
ciocultural conditions such as status competition,
social-ceremonial obligations, and religious spe-
cialization. The results are then related by Pryor
to theories taken from the literature concerning
the rise of agriculture. He found little support for
preferring one above the others, although it does
seem that increasing population density, seden-
tarism, and reduction in consumable biomass were
sufficient (but not necessary) conditions for the
appearance of agriculture.
For Pryor the important conclusion is that “no
single cause underlay the spread of agriculture in
different times, places, and environments” (90).
In the case of traditional agricultural societies
(tribal and peasant) the criteria defining property
are ownership of land, presence of tenancy, and
the existence of slaves and serfs; the criteria for
distribution, in turn, are the degree of product
sharing, prevalence of market transactions, and
wealth distribution. After clustering these variables
with respect to 41 peasant and tribal agricultur-
al communities (Thai village [1955], Ibo [1935].
Yanomamo [1965] are examples), Pryor identifies
four types of economic systems. The first type
stands apart from the rest and is the herding-pluS
system (individual land ownership is unimportant
and wealth inequalities are considerable). The oth'
er types are the egalitarian farming system (rel&'
tively low levels of economic/social inequalities),
semimarketized farming system (more wage
bor and more trade than in the other types), ana
the individualistic farming systems (nearly all Uj
Africa, having slavery together with little mutua
aid among families). Pryor tries to identify detet'
minants of these types of economic systems an
finds only few - again, contra to the “common aS'
sumption among many anthropologists that parBc'
ular social structures were the key causal forces 111
determining how the economy functioned” (124''
The few associations he does discover include tn<j
fact that higher population density is correlate
with semimarketized farming systems, and cen
tralized political arrangements with individual istl
economic systems. Interestingly, the semirnai'ke
Anthropos 101
20$
Berichte und Kommentare
235
tized farming system exhibits the highest level of
development of all agrarian economic systems.
When considering the transition from agricul-
ture to industry, Pryor turns to 20 of today’s
industrialized countries and their socioeconomic
characteristics as they existed in 1850. He identi-
fies an industrialization threshold which he places
when a country’s manufacturing has passed “the
Per capita level of manufacturing production
in England in 1778” (130). Once that happened
(e.g., New Zealand in 1913) a country was on
its way toward full industrialization. He finds that
early industrialization was encouraged by a rela-
tively literate rural population, high market pene-
tration of the rural sector, and conditions in which
land was held by owners or secure tenants. Semi-
tnarketized farming systems historically were the
tttost likely to show characteristics favorable to
early industrialization. Compared to the transi-
tion from foraging to agriculture, therefore, the
move from agriculture to industry was associated
mainly with one of the agricultural economic sys-
tems (semimarketized farming system), it involved
greater technological changes, it occurred main-
ly deliberately (for profit and/or national power),
ar,d it took place over a far shorter period of
firne. This is supported by evidence Pryor ob-
tains from today’s developing countries - those
that are more market-oriented and economically
°Pen are moving more rapidly toward an industrial
c°ndition.
Because economic data is far richer for market-
ed industrial societies than in the case of for-
cing and agricultural ones, Pryor is able to quan-
Batively isolate 40 economic characteristics to
identify types of economic systems among them,
hese characteristics cover product and labor mar-
ets (e.g., barriers to foreign trade, legal worker
Protection) and business, government, and finan-
^lal sectors (e.g., government share of investment,
ütral bank independence). Taking 21 countries
the OECD as the sample, a cluster analysis
g,veals four types of economic systems; Southern
Uropean (such as Italy and Spain), Western Euro-
an (France and Germany are examples), Nordic
ions (for instance, Norway and Sweden), and
ç6 Anglo-Saxon-plus type (or AS+; UK, USA,
t anada, and Japan are among them). The latter
and 18 characterized by liberal market economies
has Weah organized labor, while the Nordic type
^ greater governmental role in the economy.
le e Anthem European type affords less favorable
a environments for markets, while in the West-
ferst'Ul'opean economic system government trans-
s are very high in relation to the GDP. Again,
Vh
roPos 101.2006
in contrast to agricultural and foraging societies,
available data allows Pryor to relate these respec-
tive economic systems to performance measures.
For instance, AS+ countries have greater income
inequalities than Nordic ones, while Southern Eu-
ropean economic systems have lower rates of eco-
nomic development. Other performance measures,
such as class struggle, health status, pollution,
and innovation do not show statistically significant
differences between the system types. Among the
causes that underlay the adoption of the respec-
tive economic systems, the most convincing are
historical/geographic ones. Southern Europe has
traditionally been characterized by a patrimonial
political arrangement which contrasted with the
less centralized feudal structure north of the Alps.
English feudalism, in turn, allowed for more per-
sonal mobility, while in Nordic countries inter-
nal colonization encouraged greater emphasis on
social equality than elsewhere. The geographic
proximity of the countries belonging respectively
to these types of economic systems no doubt rein-
forced their shared characteristics through contact
and diffusion.
Pryor also discusses changes that advanced
market economies are undergoing, some leading
to convergence between them, others to parallel
trajectories, and others again to divergence. As
to future trends, an aging population will im-
pact on the economic systems in the coming 40
years. Moreover, continued globalization in the
form of international movements in trade, people
and capital is likely to result in homogenization
of government policies and economic institutions,
converging levels of economic development be-
tween countries open to trade, and standardization
of corporate practices. The future is likely to see
some shifts in the relative power of capital, la-
bor, and management. Labor probably will lose
some influence, while high executive compensa-
tion especially in the US is likely to influence
developments in a similar direction elsewhere in
the developed world - though here Pryor becomes
uncharacteristic speculative, himself admitting the
“difficulties of prediction” (223).
The final substantive chapter in his book Pryor
devotes to Marxist economic systems. He throws
the net wide by including regimes in this category
that combine the following characteristics: self-
identification as Marxist by the party in power, an
aim to establish a one-party rule, and an intention
to gain control over the economy. Thirty-three
regimes share these characteristics, which serve as
the database for Pryor. Only six of them took over
power by means of the “classical route” (234) of
236
Berichte und Kommentare
revolution or civil war (e.g., China, Cuba, USSR).
In the case of the remaining countries, power
acquisition took place as a byproduct of resisting
colonial control, a coup d’etat, subsequent to a
major military defeat, or after an electoral victory
of a communist party. Although Pryor was not
able to undertake a cluster analysis, he informally
distinguishes the core nations consisting of the
Soviet Union, Eastern European regimes, China,
Cuba, Vietnam, and North Korea from third-world
Marxist regimes such as Ethiopia, Zimbabwe,
Nicaragua, and South Yemen. He shows that with
respect to the nonmarket allocation of resources
and regarding price controls, the Soviet Union
adhered closest to the Marxist “canonical case”
(237) while the other core nations did less so.
In third-world Marxist countries the governments
had only limited control over the economy because
of their reliance on traditional agriculture and the
weakness of the Marxist elite.
With respect to economic performance, Marxist
regimes did not lag significantly behind market-
based economies, and at least in the case of Eastern
Europe equality of distribution was greater than
in market economies. Yet, most Marxist regimes
have had a relatively short life span, with the
longest enjoyed by the Soviet Union. The main
difficulty the latter encountered in the second half
of the 20th century was the growing problem of
managing the canonical Marxist economic system.
This was compounded by loss of industrial disci-
pline, and rising mistrust and discontent. Finally,
there was the ideological shift represented by the
“Gorbachev Factor” (259). Once the Soviet Union
dissolved, so did the other Marxist regimes in East-
ern Europe because in effect they were colonial
extensions of the Soviet Union with which they
shared similar problems. For third-world Marx-
ist countries, the difference between promise and
performance led to their termination, especially
once external backing was discontinued. It is of
interest that the surviving four Marxist regimes
- China, Vietnam, Cuba, and North Korea - had
gained power through revolution, national libera-
tion movements, or civil wars, and that all have
seen some military action against the US. Finally,
the question of whether Marxist and market-based
economic arrangement will over time converge,
history has turned by and large moot. Perhaps,
Pryor points out, China and Vietnam will show
the way if they can construct a stable balance
between “a centrally planned economy and a mar-
ket economy with relatively little direct govern-
ment interference in production and distribution”
(263).
While truly grand in scope, this study offers
only modest findings. Pryor found that each de-
velopmental stage of production contains a number
of integrated economic systems that are defined by
institutions of property and distribution. While the
characteristics of economic systems seem not to
have played much of a role in the transition from
foraging to agriculture, they did so in the change
from agriculture to industry. The author did not
find evidence that the sociopolitical context and
the environment have much to do with what eco-
nomic systems have evolved and survived. That
is, economic systems “appear as independent en-
tities, worthy of study in their own right” (267).
Finally, Pryor cannot say much about some areas
of interest because of lack of data, such as eco-
nomic performance in the case of foraging and
agricultural economies. In many ways, therefore,
this work leaves the reader with more questions
than answers.
Those who have doubts about the validity of
studies based on the SCCS and similar quantified
cross-societal data sets will dismiss this book - as,
for instance, Owen Lattimore did with respect to
Pryor’s “The Origins of the Economy” (1977), a
similar quantitative study. However, even without
taking such extreme view, problems with this type
of data exist. One question is whether much can be
said about developments that took place thousands
of years ago, such as the rise of agriculture, on
the basis of a sample of contemporary traditional
societies. Pryor replies that the results from his
crosscultural data set are “plausible but not ait'
tight” (91), and rather cavalierly maintains that the
burden of proof is with those who disagree; they
need to show that data exist about the transition
to agriculture of some 10,000 years ago which
challenges his finding. A similar question exists
with respect to foragers. His data is derived iron1
contemporary foragers who in their economic an°
political structure probably are very different frorn
those that used to exist in rich environments ot-
say, preagricultural Europe. This matter is not diS'
cussed by Pryor.
According to Pryor, some anthropologists ha^6
charged him “of having ‘evolutionist, materialist
and functional’ conceptions of preindustrial sod
eties” (23, n. 22). This charge seems rather unfa11;
As Pryor points out, how can he be accused 0
this if his effort has been to test socioeconon11
relations rather than to assume them? However
his emphasis throughout the book on the econoif ^
system - though standard among economists^
is less so among anthropologists - might
some among the latter to charge him with fur,c
jQ06
Anthropos
101
Berichte und Kommentare
237
tional bias. He uses the productive technology
and resource elements economies are composed
of to arrange societies along a development scale
of production. Two other elements of economies,
distribution and property, are subsumed by him
under the concept of economic system. Economic
systems are then related by him to each other, to
the respective stages of production, and to noneco-
nomic institutions. One is led, therefore, to believe
that Pryor assumes (rather than tests) that there
is a closer functional relation between property
and distribution than between them and productive
technology and resource.
Furthermore, the (to many anthropologists) un-
familiar notion of economic system might clarify
a criticism that Pryor expresses about anthropo-
logical assumptions in several places of this book
(e-g., 19, 47, 274); and that is the assumption that
the economy is integrated into society and is a
Btere epiphenomenon of it. Though it is difficult to
§eneralize even about ecological/economic anthro-
pologists - by no means do all consider Polanyi as
an unalloyed beacon illuminating our understand-
lng of preindustrial economies - for most of them
lhe key concept is not the economic system but the
economy of a society. This includes physical re-
sources and technology. When they deal with how
the economy relates to the larger sociocultural con-
lext, they include these physical elements as well
¡ts property and distribution. Yes, anthropologists
Pave a tendency to take the context of whatever
t^ey focus on into account. It turns out, however,
hut at least many ecological/economic anthropol-
°§ists consider the economy (not the economic
system), if anything, as a determinant of society
aud culture, not the opposite. In the special case
^f ueo-Marxist anthropologists, a similar point can
e uiade. As noted by Pryor, their notion of rela-
°us of production overlaps closely with that of
e economic system. But in contrast to Pryor’s
sumptions with respect to anthropologists, most
°-Marxist ones are convinced that the relations
Production serve as the ultimate determinant of
Clety rather than being determined by it.
however justified Pryor is to focus on produc-
n - foraging, agriculture, and industry - within
le h to identify different economic systems, it
s- as him to overlook distinctions which might be
hificant and to miss types of societies which
east to the reviewer appear relevant to this
hy h Study- N° systematic distinction is made
tfihnim between agrarian communities found in
Pap SOcieties and Peasant communities that are
sue Pre^ndustrial agrarian states. Since all pur-
Subsistence agriculture, they are discussed as
Anth:
roPos 101.2006
one production type in chapter 4. Moreover, Pryor
does not discuss formerly colonized agrarian so-
cieties as a subtype (e.g., British Malaysia, Dutch
Indonesia), even though their colonial experience
resulted in the creation of dual economies (extrac-
tive/export sector vs. the subsistence sector). Nor
do contemporary market-based less development
countries (LDCs) play much of a role in this study,
a fact the reviewer finds particularly unfortunate.
Pryor does refer to few of them when dealing with
the transition from agricultural to industrial condi-
tions, and also briefly when discussing systemic
changes found in advanced industrial economies.
In that context he mentions that he has identified
a number of different economic systems among
developing economies, but their characteristics are
described only in the appendix which has to be
accessed on the web. Actually, he gives more
attention to Marxist third-world countries than
market-based ones. I find this surprising, given
that most countries today are LDCs and the vast
majority of humanity are found in them. To have
given them more attention might have deepened
our understanding of the degree to which develop-
ing economies are moving through similar trans-
formations as did countries during the first wave
of industrialization; it might also have suggested
the trajectory of future global development which
certainly will not only be determined by current
OECD countries.
A related problem involves the social unit of
analysis. Aside from foragers among which bands
and small tribes are the social units in Pryor’s data
set, when discussing industrial societies (and those
becoming so) the typical unit is the country. In the
case of agricultural societies, by contrast, Pryor
uses the individual chiefdom hamlet and peasant
village as the relevant unit. There are problems
when he does this especially with respect to peas-
ant villages. Although Pryor refers to “Agricultural
societies” in Table 4-1, in the case of states they
are actually individual villages that are part of
states. For instance, regarding China it is a Chinese
village that has been studied, for Thailand it is a
Thai village, and so on. Now, it is one thing to
generalize from a group of !Kung about the !Kung
San in general; it is another to do the same for
China, Thailand, etc. Moreover, when comparing
industrial societies and their economic systems
with agricultural ones, this approach leads Pryor to
compare these production types on different levels
of organization - in the former, on the level of
the state; in the latter, on that of the village within
preindustrial states. Pryor is aware of this difficul-
ty, but justifies the focus on single communities
238
Berichte und Kommentare
in agrarian societies in two ways. First, there is
insufficient statewide information available about
the production and distribution system for many of
the agrarian states; second, in agrarian states politi-
cal centralization did not significantly influence the
organization of production. This latter argument,
valid or not, of course begs the question of how
representative of an entire state (say of Egypt) an
individual village is. Might there not be a third
reason? The data set used by Pryor for preindus-
trial societies is derived from the Standard Cross
Cultural Sample which in the case of agricultural
societies happens to consist of individual village
studies.
Pryor cannot be faulted for not relating his data
as best as he can to a large number of theories
and propositions about production stages and eco-
nomic systems. Nevertheless, some controversial,
well-known theories and models close to the heart
of anthropologists and others are not addressed.
For instance, Ester Bosemp’s model of agricultural
intensification (via shortened fallow periods) and
its relation to population density, property rela-
tions, and stratification does not receive attention,
nor does the dependency/world systems assump-
tion that socioeconomic core regions cause and/or
maintain poverty in peripheral regions. It would
have been of interest to learn what his data set tells
us about these and other models. True, one cannot
do all, and Pryor in this volume has done much.
It is surprising, nevertheless, that no reference is
made to Fernand Braudel, David Landes, and Eric
Wolf among historians, economists, and anthro-
pologists; nor (given his evolutionary approach)
to Elman Service, Morton Fried, and Marvin
Harris.
Much of the data on which this empirically ori-
ented work is based appears in table form through-
out the book. A considerable amount, however,
is available in appendices that can only be found
online. This is understandable given the size lim-
itations of books. It becomes irritating, though, if
crucial information is tucked away in the appendix,
such as the nature of the various types of economic
systems of developing economies that are men-
tioned in the text (146, 196 ff.), yet identified only
in the appendix. It is also a leap of faith that the
online information will still be available in one or
two decades. Already now the reviewer could not
find the appendices via the publisher’s web page
as the reader is directed to do, though they could
be accessed via the author’s home page.
Finally, a minor matter, but irritating all the
same because it could so easily have been avoided:
Despite the comparative nature of this work, which
includes discussions and data presentations of a
wide variety of societies, the index, while listing
types of societies and countries, does not contain
references to individual ones.
Despite these shortcomings, anthropologists and
others interested in the comparative study of
economies will find this truly scholarly work
highly useful. It is refreshing to read a study
that endeavors to use a quantifiable set of data
to empirically answer a broad range of questions
concerning the nature of economic systems, their
relation to the environmental and social contexts,
and their transformation over time - questions
that all too often have encouraged imaginative
speculations as answers. Pryor’s effort in this
study reminds one of the scholars - anthropolo-
gists among them - who at the turn of the last
century called for the need for more hard data
rather than additional models of the evolution of
culture. They would have agreed with Pryor’s
point that “premature theorizing without [a] factual
basis ... will only divert attention from the real
economic (and intellectual) problems” (281). The
difficulty is that “armchair theorizing is a pleasant
way to pass the time, especially while leaving
the hard work of empirical validation to others
(279). Pryor attempts to provide such validation
in this work, and by and large he has succeeded in
doing so.
Drei neue Maya-Hieroglyphen
Kataloge
Berthold Riese
1 Ausgangslage
Laufende Neufunde von Inschriften, Erstverök
fentlichungen von Altbeständen aus privaten nn
öffentlichen Sammlungen und die damit einhei
gehende Zunahme von Entzifferungsversuche^
machen eine systematische Bestandsaufnahme nn
Fortschreibung derselben sowohl auf der Ebenß
der Texte und der in ihnen vorkommenden Hie*0
glyphen und Zeichen als auch auf der Ebe1
der Entzifferungen zu einem immer wieder vl
rulent werdenden Desiderat der Maya-SchriA*01
schung.
Anthropos 101-20°
Berichte und Kommentare
239
Die Katalogisierung der Maya-Schrift
bis zum Jahr 2000
Bisherige Kataloge waren mit jeweils eigenständi-
ger Nomenklatur von William Gates (1931), Gün-
ter Zimmermann (unveröffentlichte Dissertation
1951, definitive veröffentlichte Fassung 1956) und
Yuri Knorozov (erste Veröffentlichung 1952; de-
finitive Fassung 1963 in russischer Sprache, 1967
in englischer Übersetzung), um nur die wichtigsten
zu nennen, konzipiert worden. Sie schlüsselten das
Corpus von Maya-Texten auf die Handschriften
beschränkt formenkundlich und mit Textstellen-
nachweisen einigermaßen vollständig auf, wobei
Knorozov als einziger auch systematisch eigene
Bntzifferungsvorschläge auflistete, während Zim-
Biermann durch breite bildliche Wiedergabe von
Schreibvarianten seine Klassifizierung besonders
transparent machte.
Der erste Katalog, der auch die Inschriften be-
rücksichtigte, war der von John Eric S. Thompson
Ü962). Er lehnte sich im System der Transkription
zwar an Zimmermann an, führte aber diesem
allen anderen Vorgängern gegenüber neue
^urnrnemschlüssel für die Zeichen ein. Vor allem
VVegen seines Einschlusses der Inschriftentexte
^urde er das von der Forschung bevorzugte Ar-
efismittel. Doch waren in Thompsons Katalog,
fi"otz seines völlig neuen Entwurfes, von Anfang an
ficken und Fehler unverkennbar. Die gravierends-
p Bücke war sein Verzicht, für zwei seiner drei
0rmklassen, nämlich die Affixe und die Kopf-
°rmen, Vorkommen nachzuweisen. An System-
j^filern fallen bei Thompson vor allem seine
°Ppelverzeichnung vieler Grapheme, sein Zu-
t arnmenfassen (“lumping”) bzw. Aufspalten (“split-
n§ ’) in willkürlich erscheinender Art und das
legentliche Verzeichnen nichtanalysierter kom-
e*er Formen (“conflated signs”) ins Gewicht. So
verw
Ben
undert nicht, dass schon bald nach Erschei-
Üu S£ines Kataloges mehrere Anläufe gemacht
du Üen’ zu verbessem» zu ergänzen1 oder gar
rch ein neues Nomenklatursystem zu ersetzen.2
<3cr ersten großangelegten Revision, die unter Leitung
^ n Günter Zimmermann in Hamburg mit Mitteln der
^hen Forschungsgemeinschaft 1966 begonnen wurde
g 1 a'e Thompson durch Überlassen seiner “grey cards”
annten Hieroglyphen-Kartei unterstützte, war ich selbst
An^tU<^en^SChe Hilfskraft beteiligt. Das Vorhaben war von
ein 6^lnn unzweckmäßig konzipiert und wurde nach etwa
em Jahr ohne Ergebnis eingestellt. Die Thompson’sehen
Ü Cards” wurden Thomas Barthel in Tübingen zum
2 Eineeren ^£firauch überstellt.
Ü96sfanZ neue N°menklatur haben Rendön und Spescha
;erl u Vor2eschlagen. Sie wurde von anderen Forschem
ch nicht angewandt.
Anih;
roP°s 101.2006
Ergänzungen des Zeichenbestandes durch Kurb-
juhn (1989), Ringle und Smith-Stark (1996) und
andere, weniger umfassende waren weitgehend
unkoordiniert und boten daher keine kumulati-
ve Ergänzung des Zeicheninventars.3 * * Keiner die-
ser Nachträge bot eine Gesamtcorpus bezogene
Ergänzung der Textstellennachweise.
Entzifferungsvorschläge zu machen war nicht
Ziel Thompsons Kataloges. Er stand den vor-
liegenden Vorschlägen Knorozovs, als seinem in
dieser Hinsicht gewichtigsten Vorläufer, aus ver-
schiedenen Gründen ablehnend gegenüber, darun-
ter vor allem aus der vorgefassten Meinung heraus,
dass die Maya-Schrift im Wesentlichen ideogra-
phisch sei. Daher verlief die nach-Knorozov’sche
systematische Verzeichnung von Entzifferungen
zunächst nicht über Thompson weiter, sondern auf
getrennten Wegen über zwei Veröffentlichungen
von David Kelley (1962, 1976). Sie mündete
erst mit Justesons Formulierung von Translite-
rationsregeln und einer ersten Zusammenstellung
von EntzifferungsVorschlägen 1984 in den Haupt-
strang der Forschung ein. Alle folgenden Ver-
zeichnisse haben dann auch stets Entzifferungs-
vorschläge aufgelistet und fortgeschrieben, womit
eine grundsätzlich neue Komponente in die Ka-
talogarbeit einfloss, denn frühere Entzifferungs-
hinweise waren sporadisch, unsystematisch oder
bestenfalls systematisch aber von einem einzigen
Autor stammend (Knorozov und Kelley) und damit
nicht unbedingt repräsentativ für die Forschung
insgesamt.
Gründliche Abhilfe für die verschiedenen Ko-
ordinationsmängel und inhaltlichen Lücken durch
abermalige Neukonzipierung und vollständige
Durchführung eines solchen Programms hat bis ins
Jahr 2000 niemand geleistet, obwohl Prinzipien
und Verfahrensvorschläge immer wieder vorgetra-
gen wurden, zuletzt und am gründlichsten von
Ringle und Smith-Stark (1996).
3 Die Situation nach der Jahrtausendwende
Ein Jahr nach der Jahrtausend wende begann sich
die Lage jedoch dramatisch zu verändern. In jedem
3 Korrekturen und Ergänzungen finden sich außer bei den
genannten auch in Riese (1971, 1980) und Grube (1990).
Wenn man den Zeichenbestand kumulativ bilanziert, ohne
die Tilgung von Doppel Verzeichnungen zu berücksichti-
gen, erhält man folgende Zahlen: Bestand nach Thompson
(1962) 814 Zeichen, Bestand nach der Fortschreibung durch
Kurbjuhn (1989) 835 Zeichen und Bestand nach der Teil-
fortschreibung durch Ringle und Smith-Stark (1996) 968
Zeichen.
240
Berichte und Kommentare
der drei folgenden Jahre erschien eine katalog-
artige Bestandsaufname von Maya-Hieroglyphen
und Entzifferungen als Buchveröffentlichung un-
ter der Autorschaft anerkannter Experten. Sie bo-
ten entweder Fortschreibungen auf der Basis von
Thompson oder ein neu konzipiertes System.
Zunächst veröffentlichte Michael D. Coe, vom
Zeichner Mark van Stone unterstützt, im Jahr
2001 “Reading the Maya Glyphs”4 in dem für
die ästhetische und solide Ausstattung kulturge-
schichtlicher Bücher bekannten Londoner Verlag
Thames and Hudson. Im Jahr darauf folgte von
John Montgomery, der vor allem als graphischer
Dokumentär von Maya-Inschriften bekannt gewor-
den ist, ein “Dictionary of Maya Hieroglyphs”5
in dem ansonsten in Fachkreisen unbekannten
New Yorker Verlag Hippocrene Books. Wiederum
ein Jahr später veröffentlichte Martha J. Macri,
zeichnerisch und inhaltlich von Matthew G. Looper
unterstützt, “The New Catalog of Maya Hiero-
glyphs”.6 * * * * Diesen “New Catalog” verlegte der-
selbe Verlag, der 1962 den “alten” Katalog von
Thompson herausgegeben hatte, nämlich die in
Fachkreisen wohlbekannte University of Okla-
homa Press.
3.1 Michael Goes “Reading the Maya Glyphs”
Coe folgt, was die Verschlüsselung von Schrift-
zeichen und deren alphabetische Transliteration
betrifft, den von Thompson (1962) und Justeson
(1984) gesetzten Konventionen. Seine Ausführun-
gen lassen sich daher ohne Schwierigkeiten mit
den beiden genannten und den meisten einschlägi-
gen früheren Veröffentlichungen abgleichen. Ziel
des Buches ist es, die ganze Vielfalt von Maya-
Schrifttexten in der ebenfalls ganzen zeitlichen
Spanne von über 1 000 Jahren zu erfassen und
vorzustellen. Das gelingt ihm in recht ausgewoge-
ner Form, wobei die gebührende Berücksichtigung
von Keramiktexten - von Thompson noch völlig
ausgeschlossen - einem langjährigen Forschungs-
interesse Goes zu verdanken ist.
4 Coe, Michael D., and Mark van Stone; Reading the Maya
Glyphs. London: Thames and Hudson, 2001. 176 pp. ISBN
0-5000-5110-0. Price: £ 16.95.
5 Montgomery, John: Dictionary of Maya Hieroglyphs. New
York; Hippocrene Books, 2002. 200 pp. ISBN; 0-7818-
0862-6. Price; $ 19.95.
6 Macri, Martha J., and Matthew G. Looper: The New
Catalog of Maya Hieroglyphs. Vol. 1; The Classic Period
Inscriptions. Norman; University of Oklahoma Press, 2003.
375 pp. ISBN 0-8061-3497-6. (The Civilization of the
American Indian Series, 247) Price: $ 59.95.
Anders als alle vorangegangenen Kataloge stellt
Coe im Hauptverzeichnis die Maya-Schrift nach
inhaltlichen Themenkomplexen geordnet dar. Es
sind Zahlen, Zeit und Kalender, Herrscherbio-
graphien und -rituale, Ortsnamen, Personenna-
men und Titel, Verwandtschaft, Krieg, Schrift
und Kunst, keramische Texte, die Götterwelt und
schließlich auch der Mensch und sein Handwerk,
seine Umwelt und die Tiere. Damit erfasst Coe
die Hauptthemen, die die Forschung bisher als
Inhalte von Maya-Schrifttexten herausgearbeitet
hat. Innerhalb jedes Themenbereichs stellt er die
wichtigsten hieroglyphischen Ausdrücke bildlich
durch sehr sorgfältige und klare Umzeichnungen
seines Mitarbeiters Stone mit zusätzlichen Infor-
mationen vor. Das geschieht nicht tabellarisch oder
in festen Kategorien, sondern umgangssprachlich
erläuternd. Diese freie Form hat den Vorteil, dass
vieles dem Benutzer argumentativ verständlich ge-
macht wird, was aus Tabellen oder Listen nur
schwer oder gar nicht erschlossen werden kann.
Zugleich hat diese Art der Abhandlung aber den
Nachteil, dass nicht immer alle möglichen Infor-
mationen zu einem hieroglyphischen Ausdruck ge-
liefert werden. Immerhin ist dem Bild meist die
Lesung beigefügt und sehr oft auch eine morpho-
logische und im weiteren Sinn grammatikalische
Analyse bezüglich Schrift und Sprache des gele-
senen hieroglyphischen Ausdrucks. Auch bemüht
sich Coe gelegentlich, die Einbettung des bespro-
chenen Ausdrucks in seinem syntaktischen und
kulturellen Zusammenhang darzustellen. Die Aus-
drücke, die Coe in diesem Hauptteil behandelte
sind meistens flektierte Wörter, und die Auswahl
ist so getroffen, dass vor allem Ausdrücke zum
Zuge kommen, deren Bedeutungen und Lesungen
relativ gesichert sind.
Dass ich dieses Buch trotz seines nicht kata-
logartigen Hauptteils als solchen vorstelle, ist dm11
ausführlichen Syllabar mit 82 Silben und diesen
zugeordneten 330 Zeichen der Hieroglyphenschru
und einem Verzeichnis von etwa 250 Schriftze1'
chen und Hieroglyphen (“A Maya Lexicon”), dtß
als Lexeme, Wörter und Phrasen gedeutet wer'
den, zu verdanken. Syllabar und Wortlexikon sm
alphabetisch nach den Lesungen geordnet. Dam1
ist die Maya-Hieroglyphenschrift im Umfang et)*''3
gleich dem im Folgenden vorzustellenden “Dien0
nary” von Montgomery erfasst. Von einem abs°
luten Standpunkt aus sind das etwa die Hälfte dß
heute als gesichert geltenden Lesungen.
Was Coe nicht leistet, ist die Aufschlüsselung
der Maya-Schriftzeichen (Grapheme) nach c‘e
Transkriptionssystem von Thompson. Das
ist somit also keine Ergänzung zu Thompson,
Anthropos 101.20°
Berichte und Kommentare
241
sei denn, der Leser macht sich die Mühe, zu den
abgebildeten Zeichen die Thompson-Nummem
nachzutragen oder ein Register zu erstellen, das
Coes sprachliche Lesungen mit Thompsons Kata-
lognummem korreliert.
3.2 John Montgomerys “Dictionary”
Montgomerys Ansatz und Ordnungsprinzip im
Hauptteil sind, wie bei Coe, sprachliche Lesungen.
Habei beschränkt er sich nicht auf eine sprach-
liche Ebene sondern führt Silben, Lexeme, flek-
tierte Wörter und gelegentlich sogar Sätze oder
aus hieroglyphischer Sicht, Zeichen, Hieroglyphen
und Hieroglyphenfolgen in einer einzigen alpha-
betischen Sequenz zusammen, so wie es auch Coe
ln seinem “A Maya Lexicon” genannten Anhang
tut. In dieser Mischung syntaktischer Ebenen er-
fasst Montgomery 1 200 sprachliche Ausdrücke,
^ovon die Hälfte graphische Varianten sind, so
dass sein “Dictionary” effektiv etwa 600 ver-
miedene hieroglyphisch-sprachliche Ausdrücke
Verzeichnet. Das macht sein Buch im Umfang
^tiva mit dem kumulativen Umfang der beiden
Verzeichnisse in Coes Buch vergleichbar. Anders
als bei Coe, der sich um ausgeglichene Berück-
sichtigung verschiedener Textsorten bemüht, lässt
Montgomery die Handschriften fast ganz außer
acbt. Das ist bedauerlich, denn gerade in ihnen
sind seit Thompson vor allem durch James Fox,
k°hn Justeson, Victoria Bricker und Berthold Riese
erücksichtigenswerte Entzifferungen vorgeschla-
§on worden.
Montgomery macht seine Lesungen klar nach-
°flziehbar, indem er die Thompson’sehe Ver-
dlüsselung und die Justeson’sehen Translite-
j,. l0nsregeln verwendet und beides bei jedem
intrag seiner eigenen Zeichnung der Hiero-
j^Pbe aufführt. Die Auswahl, denn eine solche
es bei dem genannten Umfang nur sein,
insofern vernünftig, als nach meinem Ein-
he ck ^0 % der vorgeschlagenen Lesungen nach
kritischen Kenntnisstand gut begründet
n • Allerdings, und dieser Mangel ist bei ihm
^ ausgeprägter als bei Coe, bleibt Montgomery
lep Un(lungen für die Lesungen schuldig. Ge-
be ntlich nennt er lapidar zwei konkurrierende
§en n^en’ wagt sie aber nicht argumentativ ge-
aufeinander ab. Meist beschränkt er sich jedoch
aUr Clne e^nzl§e- Hass die durch den Vorschlag
(aß einer oder zweier grundsätzlicher Lesungen
HiS(^Seben von den Variationen zwischen chola-
Linh T. Und yukatekischer Sprache) vorgeführte
e bgkeit der Hieroglyphenentzifferung nicht
Anth
r°P°s 101.2006
Stand der Forschung ist, wird beim Heranziehen
des im Folgenden zu besprechenden Kataloges von
Macri und Looper deutlich. Im Gegensatz zu Coe,
der meist eine korrekte grammatikalische Analyse
liefert, sind die von Montgomery vorgeschlagenen
Analysen nur grob und oft falsch. Immerhin gibt er
in der Regel sowohl yukatekische wie cholanische
Lesungen an, so dass man nicht wie bei Coe, der
sich auf yukatekische beschränkt, selbständig von
der einen in die andere Sprachform transformieren
muss.
Was die Nutzung des Hauptverzeichnisses bei
Montgomery erschwert, ist die strikt alphabetische
Anordnung der Hieroglyphen nach ihren Lesun-
gen. Vor allem der Forscher, der an Entzifferungen
von graphemischen (von der Schrift ausgesehenen)
oder lexemischen (von der sprachlichen Seite aus
gesehenen) Formen interessiert ist, findet Gesuch-
tes nur schwer, weil Montgomery die Hierogly-
phen nicht nach ihrer graphischen Gestalt ordnet
und seine Ordnung nach der sprachlichen Lesung
insofern unsinnig ist, als er die meisten Formen
flektiert verzeichnet, also nicht nach unpräfigierten
Lexemen anordnet. Unter seinen Buchstaben U
und Y finden sich daher die meisten Lexeme ver-
borgen, da Lexeme in Texten meist mit einem die-
ser Personalpräfixe der dritten Person Vorkommen.
Von 110 Einträgen unter dem Buchstaben Y sind
z. B. nur 30 Lexeme bzw. Morpheme, die tatsäch-
lich mit diesem Buchstaben beginnen; die übrigen
80 sind Ausdrücke unterschiedlicher Komplexität,
denen lediglich der Beginn mit “y”, dem Perso-
nalpronomen der dritten Person, gemeinsam ist.
Diesen Mangel versucht Montgomery durch meh-
rere Register zu kompensieren, die es erlauben sol-
len, von der Bedeutung (ausgedrückt in englischer
oder spanischer Sprache), von der Verschlüsse-
lung nach Thompson oder von Silben, Morphe-
men und Lexemen der Maya-Sprachen auszuge-
hen. Das alles trennt er jedoch in 6 Haupt- und 7
Nebenregister, die kaum aufeinander abgestimmt
sind, sich stark überschneiden und unvorhersag-
bar vollständig oder lückenhaft sind. Das Suchen
und Finden wird aufgrund der Zersplitterung der
Informationen, der Ermangelung eines Gesamt-
systems und der Unvollständigkeit der Nachweise
mühsam und oft vergeblich. Letzteres vor allem,
wenn man Nominallexeme sucht, denn die hat er
als eigene Kategorie in seinen Registern nicht er-
fasst. Mit dem Register nach den Zahlenschlüsseln
nach Thompson bietet Montgomery allerdings ei-
ne, wenn auch umständliche Vernetzung mit der
vorangegangenen Forschung, die bei Coe fehlt.
Was weder Montgomery noch Coe leisten, ist
die Aufschlüsselung nach Formen, wie es vor-
242
Berichte und Kommentare
bildlich Knorozov (1963, 1967) und Zimmermann
(1956) für die Handschriften durchgeführt hatten,
was Thompson (1962) beizubehalten bestrebt war,
was ihm aber weniger systematisch gelang, und
was schließlich auch Macri und Looper in ih-
rem Verschlüsselungssystem und der Anordnung
der Zeichen im Katalog zu verwirklichen trach-
ten. Zwar ist eines von Montgomerys Registern
“Index of Visual Elements” benannt. Dort werden
aber nicht die Hieroglyphen oder Zeichen bild-
lich gezeigt, sondern es wird eine alphabetische
Liste englisch formulierter umgangssprachlicher
Beschreibungen des Bildeindrucks gegeben, die
die Formen nur dem erschließt, der sie ohnehin
kennt und in der Maya-Ikonographie, wie sie die
Forschung sieht, bewandert ist. Wenn man also
vom Aussehen eines Zeichens ausgehen möchte,
muss man nach wie vor Zimmermanns, Konrozovs
oder Thompsons Formtafeln konsultieren oder den
im Folgenden zu besprechenden Katalog von Ma-
cri und Looper zurate ziehen.
Montgomerys “Dictionary” ist in der Bilanz
gesehen ein erstes Bekanntmachen mit inhaltli-
chen Entzifferungsergebnissen, den sprachlichen
Formen und der Gestalt von Maya-Hieroglyphen.
Da es keine Begründungen von Lesungen und auch
keine weiterführenden Literaturhinweise enthält;
und da es ferner die Einzelvorkommen von Zei-
chen und hieroglyphischen Ausdrücken nicht nach-
weist, ist das “Dictionary” aber auch kein an-
gemessenes Forschungsmittel für den Einstieg in
die Maya-Schriftforschung. Es kann allenfalls im
Bereich der Forschung als Repetitorium für den
versierten Schriftkundigen, der die genannten or-
ganisatorischen Defizite durch Vorwissen zu kom-
pensieren vermag, nützlich sein.
3.3 Martha Macris und Matthew Loopers “New
Catalog”
Der in seiner materiellen Ausstattung als groß-
formatiges, solide geheftetes, aus gutem Papier
hergestelltes und in einen festen Einband gebun-
denes Buch vorgelegte Katalog ist zugleich das
repräsentativste und neuste der drei besproche-
nen Verzeichnisse. Es charakterisiert sich selbst
in durchaus absichtsvoller Formulierung als “neu”
und meint damit, dass es alle vorangegangenen
Kataloge, die in der Einleitung umfassend vor-
gestellt werden, überflüssig zu machen gedenkt.
Einschränkend muss darauf hingewiesen werden,
dass von dem auf zwei Bände konzipierten Werk
bisher erst ein Band erschienen ist. Dieser erfasst
die klassischen Inschriften, während der geplan-
te zweite Band den postklassischen Handschrif-
ten Vorbehalten ist. Inwieweit präklassische und
postklassische Inschriften (Chichen Itzä) dort auch
zum Zuge kommen werden, bleibt abzuwarten.
Derzeit ist der “Neue Katalog” also noch ein Torso
und ersetzt deswegen frühere Kataloge nicht.
Macri und Looper gehen im Ansatz vor wie
Thompson. Sie klassifizieren zunächst die Gra-
pheme der Maya-Schrift nach ihren Formen. Ins-
gesamt listen sie 891 verschiedene Formen in
übersichtlichen Tafelabbildungen im “Index of the
New Catalog” auf, von denen aber nur 686 durch
einen eigenen alphanumerischen Code identifiziert
sind. Gegenüber Thompsons 584 Formen ist also
ein beachtlicher Zuwachs zu konstatieren. Dieser
Zuwachs in der Formenvielfalt ist vor allem den
zahlreichen Neufunden von Texten, die in den 40
Jahren seit Thompsons Katalog erschienen sind,
zu verdanken. Er drückt sich allerdings in den
genannten Zahlen nicht präzise aus, weil beide
Kataloge nicht alle Varianten codieren und Tren-
nung oder Zusammenfassung von Formvarianten
sehr verschieden handhaben.
Das bewährte, auf Gates, Zimmermann und
Knorozov zurückgehende Verfahren der Klassifi'
zierung nach Formprinzipien stellt die systemati'
sehe Grundlage der Verschlüsselung in 12 Form-
klassen dar. Es sind “animals”, “birds”, “body
parts”, “hands”, “persons”, “supematurals”, “skulls >
“square, symmetrical”, “irregulär shape”, “00 plus
numeral”, “one segment”, “two segments”, “threß
segments”. Bei der Verschlüsselung machen Mach
und Looper einen radikalen Bruch gegenüber
Thompson, indem sie weder sein einfaches System
eines einheitlichen Zahlenschlüssels noch seine
konkreten Zahlen übernehmen, sondern eine neue
gemischte alphanumerische Nomenklatur entwi'
ekeln. Dieser Bruch mit Thompsons Nomenklatur
ist vor allem gemeint, wenn von “neu” die Rede
ist. Die Prinzipien der Neuverschlüsselung lassen
sich zwar an den einzelnen Codes erkennen, das
ist jedoch für den Benutzer keine primär wichtige
Eigenschaft. Vielmehr ist er mehr an der sequem
tiell geschlossenen Auflistung der 12 Formklassen
interessiert; und die gelingt Macri und Loopef
sehr viel systematischer als Thompson, womit eine
erste Rechtfertigung für die Einführung der neue*1
Nomenklatur gegeben ist.
Soll eine neue Klassifizierung Sinn machen-
muss sie nicht nur neue Namen (sprich: alphanü
merische Codes) vergeben und eine etwas beflU
zerfreundlichere Anordnung treffen, sondern d*
Grundlage, was wie verschlüsselt wird, muss t»es
ser konzipiert und stimmiger durchgeführt wert*
als es den Vorläufern gelungen war. Und gu*a
Anthropos 101-2001
Berichte und Kommentare
243
das ist bei Macri und Looper nicht der Fall. Zwar
erging sich Thompson in übermäßigem “Splitting”
und beging außerdem den in dieselbe Richtung
der Zeichenvermehrung wirkenden Fehler, gleiche
Zeichen mehrmals unter verschiedenen Nummern
zu kodieren. Aber immerhin versuchte er konsis-
tent nur nach äußeren Formkriterien zu klassifi-
zieren und nicht Interpretationen hineinspielen zu
lassen, ganz wie auch schon Zimmermann und
Knorozov vorgegangen waren. Macri und Looper
machen sich hingegen des sehr viel gravierenderen
§egensinnigen Fehlers, des “lumping”, schuldig,
mit der impliziten Begründung, dass die Klas-
sifizierung weitestgehend den Lesungen entspre-
chen sollte, was bei dem derzeit noch unausge-
miften Entzifferungsstand der Maya-Schrift aber
forschungsstrategisch unklug ist. Das methodolo-
gisch Bedenkliche an diesem Verfahren ist die
Tatsache, dass es im Gegensatz zum “Splitting”
mtern nicht mehr behoben werden kann, wenn man
‘To Nomenklatur einmal zur Verschlüsselung ver-
wendet hat. Und ihr “lumping” ist auch deswegen
besonders bedenklich, weil es späteren zirkulären
Argumentationen beim Entziffern Vorschub leis-
tet oder solche sogar schon enthält. Graphisch
deutlich verschiedene Zeichen, zum Beispiel die
Vjer Varianten von Zeichen Nr. 22F, oder gar auf
Verschiedenen Ebenen der Komplexität angesie-
delte graphische Gestalten, zum Beispiel die 3
Varianten des Zeichens Nr. 32K, fassen sie jeweils
unter einen einzigen neuen Schlüssel zusammen,
verrnutlich weil diese verschiedenen Zeichen (ih-
rer Meinung nach) die gleiche Lesung haben. Ein
Weiteres gravierendes “lumping” hat ihnen Zen-
er (2005) beim Zeichen SSF nachgewiesen, des-
Sen letzte Variante von den drei vorangehenden
£ü kennen ist, was übrigens schon eine genaue
^rrnenkundliche Analyse hätte ergeben können.
. as also erst zu beweisen wäre, setzen sie in
rer Klassifikation oft schon voraus. Durch dieses
^ .mping” reduziert sich der graphisch erfasste
aewhenbestand bei Macri und Looper von 891
Tie genannten 686 alphanumerischen Klassen,
£ e Jede eine eigene Codebezeichnung in ihrem
■^ifm erhalten haben.
do k nZ ^assen Macri und Looper den Leser je-
. h nicht auf ihrer missratenen Klassifizierung
^ eiJ- Sie geben in Anhang Nr. 4 eine Konkordanz
te Thompson und weiteren früheren Katalogsys-
denen- Diese Konkordanz ist aber unvollständig,
dich1 V^e Thompson-Nummem erscheinen dort
586nt’ zum Beispiel T 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35,
scu’.^S9, 601, 608 und viele mehr. Sie sind an-
§e vvnenc* selbst hier, wo es um Tie vollständi-
’edergabe der Thompson’sehen Nomenklatur
Vh
roPos 101.2006
und deren genaue Abbildung auf ihre eigene geht,
dem “lumping” anheim gefallen. Somit wird man
in vielen Fällen doch wieder ohne Brücke zur
vorangehenden Forschung gelassen.
Auch wenn es sachliche Gründe für die Neu-
verschlüsselung gab, und das wird schon wegen
der großen Zahl neu zutage getretener Formen
niemand bestreiten, haben Macri und Looper das
Ziel, eine für den Anwender brauchbarere Klas-
sifikation, als es alle vorangegangenen waren, zu
schaffen, nicht erreicht, denn ihr System weist
gravierende Fehler auf, erfasst (vorerst?) den Zei-
chenbestand nicht vollständig und ist mit früheren
Katalogen nicht vollständig korreliert.
Das Hauptverzeichnis enthält alle Zeichen der
Tabelle alphanumerisch geordnet. Wie schon bei
Coe und Montgomery ist die Qualität der Zeich-
nungen (aus der Feder des Koautors Looper) be-
eindruckend. Hier hat sich, wie man an allen drei
Katalogen sieht, ein hoher Standard herausgebil-
det. Den Abbildungen werden Lesungen zuge-
ordnet. Diese Information ist gegenüber Justeson
(1984) und Kurbjuhn (1989), den einzigen Ver-
zeichnissen, die auf Thompsons Basis ähnliches
umfassend versucht haben, wesentlich ergänzt und
systematisiert worden. Dies ist der wertvollste Teil
des Kataloges. Denn hier findet man schnell und
bis ins Jahr 2000 fortgeschrieben, wer wann wel-
che Lesung vorgeschlagen hat. Man wird, zumin-
dest was die heute mehrheitlich akzeptierte Lesung
betrifft, auch mit entsprechenden lexikalischen
Einträgen aus Maya-Wörterbüchern bedient, und
man kann sich dann gegebenenfalls über die im
Literaturverzeichnis genannte Fachliteratur weiter
informieren. Einen Zugang zum Bedeutungsgehalt
von Schriftzeichen bieten Anhang Nr. 3 mittels
englisch formulierter Begriffe und Anhang Nr. 2
mittels mayasprachiger Ausdrücke der logographi-
schen aufgelisteten Lesungen. Lesungen, die sich
auf Silbenwerte beschränken, sind über Anhang
Nr. 1 erschlossen. Alle 3 Register operieren ähn-
lich wie die von Montgomery, sind jedoch wesent-
lich benutzerfreundlicher, da sie alle Einträge mit
Abbildungen der betreffenden Zeichen illustrieren.
Eine kleine Einschränkung an der Brauchbarkeit
sei nicht verschwiegen: Der Katalog ist mit seinen
EntzifferungsVorschlägen sehr texaslastig. D. h.
die zwischen 1980 und 2000 öffentlich dominie-
renden, mit der University of Texas in Austin as-
soziierten Forscher und Gelegenheitsautoren sind
überrepräsentiert zu ungunsten anderer wie z. B.
Victoria Bricker, Dieter Dütting, Markus Eberl,
Christian Prager, Berthold Riese, Alexander Voß,
Elisabeth Wagner und einigen mehr. Eine ähnli-
che Unausgeglichenheit ist auch bei Montgomery
244
Berichte und Kommentare
zu konstatieren, der, weil die Maya-Handschriften
von der Texas-Schule vernachlässigt wurden, diese
aus seinem Katalog ausgeblendet hat. Dies we-
nigstens ist meine hypothetische Erklärung für sein
ansonsten unverständliches Selektionsprinzip.
4 Bilanz
Allen drei besprochenen Katalogen haftet ge-
genüber Thompson der Mangel an, dass sie die
Textvorkommen von Graphemen oder höheren
Zeichenklassen nicht nachweisen, also im strengen
Sinn keine Kataloge sind. Diesen Mangel scheinen
zumindest Macri und Looper als ernsten empfun-
den zu haben, denn sie schreiben: “unlike Thomp-
son’s catalog, we have not listed the monument
and coordinate of all known examples. Such a
concordance, along with a lexicon of logographic
and phonetically spelled words, can be generated
from the Maya Hieroglyphic Database” (2003: 45).
Das klingt, als ob dieser Teil ihres Gesamtsystems
an anderer Stelle als Datenbank zugänglich vorläge
(“can be generated”). Bis zum Frühjahr 2005 ist
diese Datenbank jedoch nicht ins Internet gestellt
worden, und auf der Homepage von Macri und
der ihrer akademischen Heimat, der University of
California at Davis, suchte ich vergeblich nach ei-
nem Hinweis auf den Stand dieses Datenbankvor-
habens, so dass dieses Desideratum weiter besteht
und der Verweis im Katalog irreführt.
Alle drei Kataloge sind sich in den Grundan-
nahmen über Bau und Funktionieren der Maya-
Schrift, also der speziellen Schrifttheorie, einig.
Daher besteht ein hoher Grad von Übereinstim-
mungen in den Ergebnissen. Das heißt aber nicht,
dass alle Annahmen, die von ihnen übereinstim-
mend gemacht werden, als gesichert gelten kön-
nen. Es ist nämlich die forschungsgeschichtliche
Situation eingetreten, die Thomas Kuhn (1968) als
die Verteidigung eines erfolgreichen Paradigmas
charakterisieren würde, in der die meisten For-
scher, um am Erfolg und Prestige des Paradigmas
teilzuhaben, dieses relativ kritiklos übernehmen
und auftretende Probleme durch Flickschusterei
oder Schönreden zu beheben bzw. zu verschleiern
suchen. Der Rezensent hat Zweifel, ob alles, was
als konsensual in diesen Katalogen und oft noch
weitergehend im neueren Fachschrifttum vorgetra-
gen wird, einer unabhängigen kritischen Prüfung
standhält. Aus diesem Grund ist es besonders
wichtig, einen möglichst voraussetzungsfreien Ka-
talog zu erstellen, weswegen meine Kritik an dem
Klassifizierungsverfahren von Macri und Looper
recht scharf ausgefallen ist.
Was die der Hieroglyphenschrift zugrunde lie-
genden Sprachen betrifft, ist der wohlbegründe-
te Konsens hier und bei allen Maya-Forschem
der, dass nur das Yukatekische und die unter-
einander eng verwandten cholanischen Sprachen
Chontal, Chol, Cholti und Chorti, infrage kommen.
Im Wesentlichen handelt es sich also stets um
Entscheidungen zwischen zwei sprachlichen Le-
sungsmöglichkeiten, einer yukatekischen und einer
cholanischen. Das ist auch der Hintergmnd der
bei den drei Katalogen bisweilen leicht abwei-
chenden Transliterationen, die also keine Unter-
schiede im Prinzip der Entzifferung widerspiegeln,
sondern Unsicherheit in der genauen Sprachzuord-
nung. Gelegentlich bemüht sich einer der Autoren
um eine rekonstruierte Sprachform, wie das in
unnachvollziehbarer Weise bereits Knorozov getan
hatte, wofür es allerdings immer noch keine aus-
reichenden linguistischen Vorarbeiten gibt. Zwar
haben Kaufman und Norman (1984) die Rekon-
struktion einer Proto-Chol-Sprache geleistet, doch
greift sie in zu große zeitliche Tiefe zurück, und für
das Yukatekische fehlt eine von heute gesehen jen-
seits der frühkolonialen mit Dokumenten in alpha-
betischer Schrift belegten Sprachstufe reichende
Rekonstruktion überhaupt. Allerdings versuchen
vor allem Macri und Looper eine Protosprach-
form zu rekonstruieren. Sie lehnen sich außerdem
an eine andere Orthographie an, als es Coe und
auch Montgomery tun. So hat der Benutzer der
Kataloge eine verwirrende Fülle konkurrierender
Schreibungen zu berücksichtigen. Man findet z. B-
für das Wort in Maya-Sprachen, das “Buch” be-
deutet, die Schreibungen hun (Macri und Looper)»
huun (Coe), hü’un (Macri und Looper) und
(Montgomery).
Ein Defizit in allen drei Katalogen ist die
Ausblendung der graphischen Herleitung aus und
die Vernetzung mit der bildlichen Symbolsprm
che. Zwar impliziert Macri und Loopers alpha'
numerischer Code eine solche herleitende Fon
menkunde, macht sie aber nicht explizit un4
begründet sie nicht. Was in anderen alten Schm'
ten, wie zum Beispiel der chinesischen, zu einen1
der Hauptzweige der Forschung und lexikalische!1
Darstellung gehört, und bei den zentralmexik3
nischen Bilderschriftsystemen der Hauptzugan^
zum Verständnis ist, wird hier vernachlässigt u°
ins Vorverständliche abgedrängt. Das ist allerding5
nicht den Autoren der drei Kataloge alleine anzu
lasten, sondern der Maya-Forschung insgesamt-
Macri und Looper und Montgomery geben si
viel Mühe die Nutzbarmachung ihrer Verzeic
nisse für verschiedene Anliegen sicherzustell6lj’
indem sie ihren Inhalt durch Register erschlich
Anthropos 101-200
Berichte und Kommentare
245
und im Falle von Macri und Looper besonders
vorbildlich mit Abbildungen der Zeichen verse-
hen. Zersplittern, Wiederholen und Lückenhaftig-
keit mindern den Gebrauchswert der Register und
damit der Verzeichnisse insgesamt allerdings be-
trächtlich.
Ein weiteres Defizit aller drei Kataloge liegt im
Fehlen objektiver und systematischer Evaluierung
vorgeschlagener Entzifferungen. Riese hat bereits
1986 eine auf Tschohl (1964) zurückgehende gra-
phische Methode vorgeschlagen und an einem Bei-
spiel ausgeführt, die für jedes einzelne Zeichen
durchzuführen wäre und dann sogar einen quan-
tifizierbaren Koeffizienten der Sicherheit der Ent-
zifferung ergibt. Auch wenn die Verwirklichung
dieses Vorschlages graphisch und unter Platzge-
sichtspunkten zu aufwendig ist, könnte er in kon-
densierter und abstrahierter Form, d. h. nicht als
komplettes Begründungs- sondern nur als Ergeb-
Bisprotokoll, der im Übrigen per Rechenprogramm
Produzierbaren Ergebnisse Bestandteil eines Ka-
taloges sein. Das setzt aber von den Katalogver-
fessem für jedes Zeichen eine eigenständig erar-
beitete Réévaluation aller Entzifferungsvorschläge
voraus, impliziert also einen enormen intellektuel-
len Arbeitsaufwand, selbst wenn die abschließende
Berechnung des Entzifferungskoeffizienten mittels
eiUes algorithmischen Programms abläuft. Macri
ünd Looper haben mit ihrer systematischen Präsen-
tation von Lesungsvorschlägen und ihren umfäng-
lichen Quellennachweisen dafür eine wichtige
0rarbeit geleistet.
5 Ausblick
grundsätzliches Defizit aller besprochener Ver-
tentlichungen liegt in der Natur eines auf Papier
^werten und als Buch gebundenen schriftlichen
izeichnisses: Syntaktische Vernetzungen und
dliche Kontexte können nicht für alle möglichen
je.evanten Bezüge dargeboten werden. Das aber
tsten gute elektronische Datenbanken, die heute
k aüch bereits bildliche Daten zu integrieren erlau-
also das Defizit der Unanschaulichkeit längst
lnJ? sich gelassen haben.
g Ule damit angedeutete technische Lösung des
ahnten Grundproblems von Buchkatalogen ist
(19q ^er Grund, warum Ringle und Smith-Stark
and ^ e*ne e^ektronische Datenbank begonnen
le ,. a's CD veröffentlicht haben. Sie erfasst al-
p^ljags nur Texte eines Inschriftenortes, nämlich
A.n ^Ues’ und ist nie fortgeschrieben worden,
^ita^ ^acr* bat, wie das oben wiedergegebene
beweist, eine Datenbank ins Auge gefasst
Anth:
roPos 101.2006
oder sogar schon entworfen, aber bisher nicht
zugänglich gemacht. Daher sollte meine Bespre-
chung als dringende Aufforderung verstanden wer-
den, eine solche elektronische Datenbank für die
Maya-Schrift zu erstellen, unter dem Dach einer
für Maya-Studien qualifizierten Organisation wie
z. B. FAMSI, PARI oder Wayeb zugänglich zu
machen und auf dem Laufenden zu halten. Was
chinesische Forscher für die im Umfang vergleich-
baren Bronzeinschriften der Zhou-Zeit bereits ge-
leistet haben, sollte doch für die Maya-Forschung
mit der stärksten Wirtschafts- und führenden Wis-
senschaftsnation im Hintergrund ebenfalls mach-
bar sein!
Ich danke Christian Prager für das zeitweilige Über-
lassen von Fachliteratur.
Zitierte Literatur
Coe, Michael D., and Mark van Stone
2001 Reading the Maya Glyphs. London: Thames and Hud-
son.
Gates, William E.
1931 An Outline Dictionary of Maya Glyphs. With a Concor-
dance and Analysis of Their Relationships. Baltimore:
The Johns Hopkins University Press.
Grube, Nikolai
1990 Die Entwicklung der Maya-Schrift. Berlin: Verlag von
Flemming.
Justeson, John
1984 Interpretations of Mayan Hieroglyphs. In: J. Justeson
and L. Campbell (eds.), Phoneticism in Mayan Hiero-
glyphic Writing; pp. 315-362 (Appendix B). Albany:
State University of New York. (Institute for Mesoamer-
ican Studies, State University of New York at Albany,
9)
Kaufman, Terrence Scott, and William Norman
1984 An Outline of Proto-Cholan Phonology, Morphology,
and Vocabulary. In: J. Justeson and L. Campbell (ed.),
Phoneticism in Mayan Hieroglyphic Writing; pp. 77-
166. Albany: State University of New York. (Institute
for Mesoamerican Studies, State University of New
York at Albany, 9)
Kelley, David Humiston
1962 A History of the Decipherment of Maya Script. Anthro-
pological Linguistics 4: 1 —48.
1976 Deciphering the Maya Script. Austin: University of
Texas Press.
Knorozov, Yuri V.
1963 Pis’mennost’ indeitsev maiia. Moskva; Izdatelstvo Aka-
demii Nauk SSSR.
1967 Selected Chapters from The Writing of the Maya In-
dians. Cambridge: Peabody Museum. (Russian Trans-
lation Series of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology
and Ethnology, 4)
246
Berichte und Kommentare
Kuhn, Thomas
1968 Die Struktur wissenschaftlicher Revolutionen. Frank-
furt: Suhrkamp.
Kurbjuhn, Kornelia (comp.)
1989 Maya. The Complete Catalogue of Glyph Readings.
Kassel: Schneider & Weber.
Maori, Martha J., and Matthew G. Looper
2003 The New Catalog of Maya Hieroglyphs. Vol. 1: The
Classic Period Inscriptions. Norman: University of Ok-
lahoma Press. (The Civilization of the American Indian
Series, 247)
Montgomery, John
2002 Dictionary of Maya Hieroglyphs. New York: Hippo-
crene Books.
Rendón, Juan José, y Amalia Spescha
1965 Nueva clasificación “plástica” de los glifos mayas.
Estudios de Cultura Maya 5: 189-252.
Riese, Berthold
1971 Grundlagen zur Entzifferung der Mayahieroglyphen.
Dargestellt an den Inschriften von Copán. Hamburg u.
München: Klaus Renner. (Beiträge zur mittelamerikani-
schen Völkerkunde, 11)
1980 Die Inschriften von Tortuguero, Tabasco. Hamburg:
MID. (Materialien der Maya-Inschriftendokumentation,
4)
1986 Begleitmaterial zur Ausstellung “Maya-Schrift”. Berlin:
Freie Universität.
Ringle, William M., and Thomas C. Smith-Stark
1996 A Concordance to the Inscriptions of Palenque, Chiapas,
Mexico. New Orleans: Middle American Research In-
stitute, Tulane University. (Middle American Research
Institute, 62)
Thompson, John Eric Sidney
1962 A Catalog of Maya Hieroglyphs. Norman: University
of Oklahoma Press.
Tschohl, Peter
1964 Kritische Untersuchungen zur spätindianischen Ge-
schichte Südost-Mexikos. Teil I; Die aztekische Aus-
dehnung nach den aztekischen Quellen und die Pro-
bleme ihrer Bearbeitung. Hamburg: Eigenverlag des
Verfassers.
Zender, Marc
2005 “Fläming Akbal” and the Glyphic Representation of the
aj-Agentive Prefix. PARI Journal 5/3: 8-10.
Zimmermann, Günter
1956 Die Hieroglyphen der Maya-Handschriften. Hamburg:
Cram, de Gruyter & Co. (Abhandlungen aus dem
Gebiet der Auslandskunde, 62 Reihe B: Völkerkunde,
Kulturgeschichte und Sprachen, 34)
Anthropos 101.200
Rezensionen
Aijmer, Göran: New Year Celebrations in Central
China in Late Imperial Times. Hong Kong: Chinese
University Press, 2003. 180 pp. ISBN 962-996-103-2.
price: $ 18.00
Die Monographie befasst sich mit einem Thema von
Scheinbar zeitloser Aktualität, nämlich der Bedeutung
Ur>d dem zeremonischen Ablauf des Frühlingsfestes. We-
sen seiner zentralen Stellung - als Beginn des chine-
rischen Jahreszyklus - wurde das chinesische Neujahr
schon von den allerersten Sinologen beschrieben. Der
kritische Punkt jedweder neuen Veröffentlichung zum
Nema muss deshalb das Bestreben sein, entweder eine
völlig neue Interpretation zu erlangen oder sich in einer
bisher unzulänglich erforschten anthropologischen Ni-
S(-'he zu etablieren. Letzteres ist genau der Fall bei Göran
Aijmer mit seiner Publikation in Form einer Lokal-
studie dieses ansonsten gründlich erforschten Aspektes
riner panchinesischen Tradition. Aijmers Studie ist da-
61 strikt definiert, sowohl in geographischer (Dongting
See
im Hubei-Hunan Grenzland) als auch in zeitlicher
(l9- Jh.) Hinsicht.
Ler Autor analysiert das Neujahrsphänomenon aus
wei verschiedenen Richtungen: zunächst als Ritual,
J|nn als Signalpunkt im Fluss der vergehenden Zeit.
ahrend die rituellen Aspekte seit den Anfängen der
k lnesischen Geschichtsschreibung dokumentiert sind,
eschäftigt sich diese anthropologische Studie spezi-
yCh mit Zeit. Aijmer entwickelt die These, dass das
^,erlangen nach einer Segmentierung der Zeit in die
s Pesten Entwicklungsstufen der chinesischen Zivili-
l0n zurückverfolgt werden kann - gleichzeitig und
^6lchrangig mit dem Bestreben, der Natur menschliche
^riplm aufzuzwingen. In seinem Buch wird dabei
ritüellen Verehrung der Ahnen besondere Aufmerk-
. keit geschenkt, gewissermaßen als Konsequenz der
irn ausk°rderungen von Produktion und Reproduktion
(]e^a§rarisehen Tagesablauf. Solche konkreten Realitäten
s iändliefien Lebens bilden das Fundament dieser
ais i!6’ rnet^°riisch immer auf die Bedeutung des iko-
pu , en Symbolismus ausgerichtet. Kollektiven Höhe-
re ^6S soz^alen Lebens wird deshalb dieselbe Auf-
y\j|^,Sarnkeit gewidmet wie den Notwendigkeiten des
§elt^e meth°dische Zangenbewegung des Autors spie-
Ab-*n ^er Struktur seines Werkes wider. In zwei
Schnitti
e unterteilt, wird zuerst die ethnographische
Nh
r°Pos 101.2006
Landschaft der Region identifiziert, wobei in chronolo-
gischer Sequenz die Spätwinterrituale beschrieben wer-
den, vom La-Fest bis zum “Frühlingsbeginn” (li chun).
Für jedes Ritual werden die relevanten geschichtli-
chen Wurzeln vorgestellt, gefolgt von einer Durchsicht
spätkaiserzeitlicher Dokumente, die sich auf den Dong-
hu-Gürtel beziehen. Dieser “enzyklopädische” erste Teil,
der die Monographie dominiert, gipfelt in einer Ana-
lyse des “Kleinen Neuen Jahres” (Kap. 4-7) und des
eigentlichen Neuen Jahres (Kap. 8-11). Der interpreta-
tive zweite Teil (Kap. 16-22) erforscht die Zentralität
von Nahrung (Reis) und Familie (Ahnen/Nachwuchs)
- gesondert erläutert in Kapitel 20. Der zweite Teil
beschäftigt sich dann (Kap. 18-19) mit der Bedeutung
von Zeit und ihrer Einteilung im Ablauf des festlichen
Jahres. Dadurch werden die Spätwinter- und Frühlings-
feste in die weitere Perspektive der chinesischen rituel-
len Tradition gestellt.
Die Monographie beruht überwiegend auf Primär-
quellen, hauptsächlich dem Gu jin tu shu ji cheng (zu-
sammengestellt von Chen Menglei und Jiang Tingxi),
wie auch Ortsbeschreibungen (difangzhi) vom 19. Jh.
Anthropologische oder ethnographische Fachwerke bil-
den eher die Ausnahme, und auch in diesem Fall oft
beruhend auf primären “Klassikern”, wie etwa Lou Zi-
kuangs Xin nianfengsu zhi (Shanghai 1935). Eine über-
proportionale Menge der Sekundärliteratur stammt da-
gegen von den - zugestandenerweise sehr informierten
- früheren Beiträgen des Autors, wobei die Stimmen
anderer eminenter Forscher oft zu kurz kommen.
Die eklektische Auswahl des Sekundärmaterials ist
typisch für dieses Buch im Allgemeinen. Diese potenti-
elle Schwäche entpuppt sich dagegen auch als Stärke des
Buches. Als Ergebnis mehrerer intensiver Arbeitsjahre
gehört die vorliegende Monographie zu den wahrhaft
außergewöhnlichen Studien der letzten Jahre. Die Argu-
mente klingen nie alt oder geborgt, sondern immer als
frisches Resultat der engen persönlichen Auseinander-
setzung des Autors mit dem Thema. In diesem Sinn ist
Göran Aijmers Einführung zu den Neujahrsritualen im
spätkaiserzeitlichen Hunan und Hubei eine anregende,
interessante und nützliche Anschaffung für jede sinolo-
gische Bibliothek. Lars Peter Laamann
248
Rezensionen
Arens, Werner, und Hans-Martin Braun: Die
Indianer Nordamerikas. Geschichte, Kultur, Religion.
München: Verlag C. H. Beck, 2004. 127 pp. ISBN 3-
406-50830-8. (C. H. Beck Wissen, 2330). Preis; € 7,90
Kann man auf nur 127 Seiten einem so komplexen
Thema wie den Ureinwohnern Nordamerikas gerecht
werden? Die Anglisten Werner Arens und Hans-Mar-
tin Braun haben sich dieser Herausforderung gestellt.
Neben einer Einleitung, einem Literaturverzeichnis und
einem Register, die entsprechend knapp gehalten sind
- zwei Karten wurden auf den Einbandinnenseiten
plaziert -, verfolgten sie auch in den in fünf Oberkapitel
untergliederten Themenbereichen verschiedene Strate-
gien, um dem Problem zu begegnen.
So werden im ersten Kapitel, welches sich mit
“Amerika vor Kolumbus” beschäftigt, nur Zeitabschnit-
te berücksichtigt, die einprägsame Kulturen hervorge-
bracht haben. Für die Autoren waren dies - neben der
Phase der Einwanderung - die paläoindianische Clo-
vis-Kultur und die der späteren archaischen Bisonjäger,
sowie stellvertretend für Kulturen, die Anbau betrieben,
die Hohokam und die Anasazi aus dem Südwesten sowie
die Mississippi-Kultur.
In den beiden folgenden längeren Kapiteln über die
“Materielle und geistige Kultur” und “Die indianischen
Religionen” konzentrieren sich die Autoren auf die Vor-
stellung grundlegender Charakteristika. Zuerst erläutern
sie jedoch die zehn Kulturareale, in die Nordamerika
aufgrund ökologischer Kriterien von Ethnologen un-
terteilt wird, bevor sie im ersten Abschnitt auf the-
matische Aspekte wie Nahrungserwerb, Wohnformen,
Kleidung, Kunst und Handwerk, geschlechtsspezifische
Rollen, Familie, Eigentum, politische Organisation und
Herrschaftsformen, Rang und gesellschaftliche Klassen,
Bünde, Krieg und Gewalt, sowie auf den Lebenszyklus
des Individuums eingehen. Bei so vielen Themenberei-
chen müssen natürlich erwähnenswerte Details ausgelas-
sen werden. Leider finden sich in diesem Kapitel auch
falsche Informationen. Im Abschnitt über die Familie
verweisen Arens und Braun auf die weite Akzeptanz
vorehelicher Beziehungen im indigenen Nordamerika
und heben als Ausnahmen nur die Cheyenne und die
Küstenbewohner des Nordwestens hervor (40). Aber
auch bei den Blackfoot, die wie die Cheyenne Plains-
und Präriebewohner waren, wurde die Jungfräulichkeit
bis zur Ehe idealisiert und voreheliche Schwangerschaf-
ten waren eine Schande für die Familie des Mädchens.
Dagegen wurden bei den Haida an der Nordwestküste
voreheliche Beziehungen toleriert, und Kinder aus Be-
ziehungen zu höherrangigen männlichen Partnern galten
als Möglichkeit zu einem sozialen Aufstieg. Während
dieser Fehler eventuell auf eine unzureichende Recher-
che zurückzuführen ist, kann die folgende Angabe nur
auf mangelnden Grundkenntnissen beruhen. Die Pot-
latch-Feste bei den Ethnien an der Nordwestküste Nord-
amerikas definieren die Autoren folgendermaßen; “Ziel
war es einerseits, andere zu beschenken und am eigenen
Reichtum teilhaben zu lassen und so Großzügigkeit zu
demonstrieren, andererseits den Mitgliedern des eigenen
Stammes wie den Gästen aus anderen Stämmen den
persönlichen Reichtum vorzuführen” (51). Zwar waren
Geschenke, Großzügigkeit und Zurschaustellung von
Reichtum charakteristisch für einen Potlatch, aber in
diesen schriftlosen Kulturen dienten die Feste in ers-
ter Linie der Bekanntgabe der Übertragung von Titeln
und Privilegien an neue Inhaber, d. h. die Gäste hat-
ten insbesondere die Funktion von Zeugen inne. Fer-
ner bezeichnet man die Periode vor der Ankunft von
Kolumbus in Amerika korrekt als “präkolumbisch” und
nicht als “präkolumbianisch” (54) oder “vorkolumbia-
nisch” (8).
Das Kapitel über “Die indianischen Religionen”
gibt zunächst Einblicke in den Bereich der Kosmo-
logie, wobei sowohl Generalisierungen vorgenommen
als auch Einzelbeispiele angeführt werden. Anschlie-
ßend thematisieren Arens und Braun indigene Mythen
und Erzählungen, welche z. B. Schöpfungsgeschichten
beinhalten. Es folgen Angaben zu Vorstellungen von
übernatürlichen Wesen, die von Geistern, Göttern und
dem omnipotenten unpersönlichen Übernatürlichen bis
zu Kulturheroen und ambivalenten Trickstem reichen,
die einerseits z. T. Schöpfer und häufig Überbringer von
Kulturgütern sind, andererseits aufgrund ihrer Neigung
zu Unfug, Gier und sexuellem Interesse moralisch nega-
tive Beispiele liefern. Schamanen und Heiler werden als
Mittler zwischen den Menschen und dem Übernatürli-
chen vorgestellt. Als individuelle religiöse Erfahrungen
bezeichnen die Autoren die Visionssuche und die Pfei'
fenzeremonie; dem kollektiven Bereich ordnen sie den
Katsina-Kult der Pueblo-Indianer des Südwestens, die
in weiten Teilen Nordamerikas verbreitete Schwitzhüt-
ten-Zeremonie und die Pfeilzeremonie der Cheyenne zu-
Da einerseits die Pfeifenzeremonie auch von mehre-
ren Personen vollzogen werden kann, andererseits die
Anzahl der Teilnehmer an Schwitzhütten-ZeremonieU
eher begrenzt ist, sollte die Unterscheidung zwischen
individuell und kollektiv hier als fließend angesehen
werden. Individuum, Gemeinschaft, Welt - als Beispiel
zur Erneuerung der Welt führen Arens und Braun den
Sonnentanz aus dem Gebiet der Plains und Prärie an-
Außerdem erwähnen sie in diesem Abschnitt noch d'6
Themen: Heilige Gegenstände, Tod und Bestattung s°'
wie Bewegungen zur Wiederbelebung traditioneller Re'
ligionen mit christlichen Elementen.
Eine andere Taktik zur Bewältigung des Platzman-
gels wenden die Autoren im Kapitel “Indianisch-wei'
ße Beziehungen” an. Hier wählen sie einige Aspekt6
und einzelne Ethnien aus, um die Auswirkungen de*
euro-amerikanischen Expansion in Nordamerika zu veI
deutlichen. Nach einem kurzen Überblick, der allgeme"1
auf die Kontaktzeit und erste Treffen eingeht, werde'1
folgende Bereiche und historische Ereignisse bestim'11
ter Völker angesprochen: Die Geschichte der Powl'a
tan (östliches Virginia) im 17. Jh.; das unterschied1
che Verständnis von Landbesitz und Verträgen; d
Schicksal der Huronen (südöstliches Kanada) im 17- ■' "
der Pueblo-Aufstand (Südwesten der USA) gegen L'
Missionierung von 1680; der Handel zwischen Uie"1
wohnem und Euro-Amerikanem sowie dessen K°n^r
quenzen; die Geschichte der Cherokee (Südosten
Anthropos
101
.2006
Rezensionen
249
USA) vom 17. bis zum 19. Jh.; der Fluchtversuch einer
Gruppe der Nez Perce vor dem US-Militär vom nord-
östlichen Oregon nach Kanada im Jahr 1877; die Ethno-
historie der Sioux (Plains- und Präriegebiet) vom 18. bis
zum 19. Jh. Außerdem enthält das Kapitel eine Tabelle
über “Die größeren Indianerkriege”.
Im letzten Kapitel, “Die Indianer heute”, beschrei-
ben Arens und Braun die Prozesse, welche Auswirkun-
gen auf die aktuelle rechtliche, politische und soziale
Situation der nordamerikanischen Ureinwohner haben.
Sie konzentrieren sich dabei auf die Gesetzgebung, die
bürokratische Verwaltung, die Verhältnisse in den Reser-
vationen und deren Stammesregierungen in den USA.
An dieser Publikation sind auf jeden Fall der gut
lesbare Schreibstil, die gelungenen thematischen Über-
leitungen sowie die inhaltliche Auswahl positiv zu
bewerten. Neben den schon angesprochenen Fehlern
lst stellenweise eine Vereinfachung der Sachlage zu
bemängeln. Wenn die Autoren z. B. für das Plains- und
Präriegebiet angeben, der Erwerb von Pferden ermög-
lichte “dem gesamten Stamm, den Bisonherden überall
bin zu folgen” (12), könnten Leser ohne Vorkenntnisse
daraus schließen, der Stamm hätte ständig zusammen-
§elebt, was jedoch nicht zutrifft, da es zumeist nur im
^°mrner zu kürzeren Zusammenschlüssen der Lokal-
§ruPpen kam. Um noch einmal auf die Potlatch-Feste
^arückzukommen: Arens und Braun führen als Ursache
br das Aufkommen der Variante im 19. Jh., bei der
^wei Rivalen um einen hohen Rang stritten, lediglich
^en Pelzhandel an (51), doch die entstehende Lohnar-
eit und Bevölkerungskonzentrationen begünstigten die-
Se Entwicklung ebenfalls. Wesentlich schwerwiegender
War allerdings die drastische Dezimierung der Bevölke-
^Un§ aufgrund von Epidemien, durch die nicht nur die
angpositionen verwaisten, sondern auch die Erbfolge
^klarer wurde. Diesen Mangel an Deutlichkeit hätten
le Autoren durch eine geringfügig erhöhte Ausführlich-
st auch an einigen anderen Stellen vermeiden können.
1^ aber ist die eingangs gestellte Frage, ob in einer so
^ rzen Darstellung ein umfassendes Bild der Indianer
^ °rdarnerikas gezeichnet werden kann, im Prinzip zu
Üahen, auch wenn gelegentlich ein wenig mehr Infor-
tlQnen wünschenswert gewesen wären.
Dagmar Siebelt
Ashforth, Adam: Witchcraft, Violence, and Democ-
p South Africa. Chicago: The University of Chica-
I Press, 2005. 396 pp. ISBN 0-226-02974-3. Price:
* 25.00
Adam Ashforth is an Australian political scientist
has lately been concerned with witchcraft in Africa.
(20nfPrevi°us volume, “Mudumo, a Man Bewitched”
Sod 5 ^escrtbes the personal experiences of one
this 6rn South African who believes in witchcraft. In
bourne here under review, Ashforth deals with a
is r bicrne, how the fear and persecution of witches
is ed °ut in a modem African community. This
As^f lncreasing concern among many anthropologists.
0rth s book is provocative and highly readable. It
Anth;
r°Pos 101.2006
is not, however, anthropological or sociological in its
approach. Instead it reads like high-level journalism,
painting an alien world to be understood by outsiders
with little previous comprehension of what life in Africa
is like. It is vivid and sympathetic and I have assigned
it for my undergraduate students so they may get some
idea of the everyday world of urban Africans.
Ashforth bases his book on his long residence with
an African family in the South African town of Soweto
located on the outskirts of Johannesburg. The book is
divided into three broad sections: (1) a general descrip-
tion of Soweto, the life of its inhabitants, and an account
of their beliefs about witchcraft and suffering, (2) an
account of South African beliefs and experiences in gen-
eral, at least as they relate to the conditions of poverty,
violence, and social insecurity rife in Soweto, conditions
Ashforth sees as fostering beliefs in witchcraft, (3) a
discussion of the ways African beliefs about witchcraft
have persisted and even been incorporated into South
African political thinking, even to the point of being
recognized by government legislation and policies. Ash-
forth notes that if African politicians “neglect to deal
with the witches, those who seek to rule may end up
being perceived as agents of evil forces themselves.
Thus, the challenge for those who would govern a
democratic state in a world of witches, is to promote
doctrines of human rights while not being perceived as
protectors of witches, who perpetrate occult violence
within communities” (15).
Ashforth begins his book by describing the per-
vasiveness of witchcraft beliefs in Soweto: “No one
can understand life in Africa without understanding
witchcraft and the related aspects of spiritual insecuri-
ty” (xiii). He then goes on to maintain that we must treat
such beliefs seriously. If by this he means we should try
to understand such beliefs, explain their effects, then he
is making good sociological sense. Unfortunately, by the
end of the book he has so blurred his writing that he fails
to stress sufficiently that such beliefs are not based on
reality, at least not in any reality that makes full sense
in the modern scientific world to which we subscribe
as social scientists. Without keeping these distinctions
constantly clear a writer opens the way for allowing
acceptance of the supernatural as a valid justification
for social behavior, in this case for the persecution and
murder of those suspected of witchcraft. Alarmingly,
such persecution has increasingly become a growing
feature of social life in many parts of South Africa.
It is necessary to point out that in modern times social
scientists may describe activities associated with beliefs
in the supernatural, gender discrimination, and the justi-
fication of torture and violence, but such social scientists
slip onto very dangerous ground if they appear to sub-
scribe to such thinking as part of their own sociological
sensibilities. Yet throughout his book Ashforth writes
about “spiritual insecurity,” presumably what he means
by this being the psychological and social insecurity
created by pervasive poverty, ill-health, violence, and
conflicting social relations in Soweto. While the term
“spiritual” has a place in Western language, it is not to
250
Rezensionen
my knowledge a term appropriate to either anthropo-
logical or sociological discourse. It is more appropriate
to theology or political rhetoric. Ashforth writes that
“The central aim here is to illuminate how everyday
statements about witchcraft and other forms of harm
involving invisible forces can be taken by reasonable
people living in the modern world as plausible accounts
of reality” (2). While elsewhere Ashforth remarks that
he himself does not believe in witchcraft, he repeatedly
drifts into a mode of writing that gives credence and
respectability to such beliefs. Over seventy years ago
Evans-Pritchard and later many other anthropologists
noted that once belief in the existence of witchcraft is
accepted by people, they can fit this (up to a point)
with orderly though not scientifically critical thinking. In
more recent decades historians have also shown how this
worked in European and colonial American societies up
to the eighteenth century. Yet these descriptions do not
suggest that such beliefs are scientifically appropriate or
even desirable in terms of a society that we should find
acceptable today.
In the case of South Africa (and other areas of that
continent) government officials have sometimes sought
to pander to the masses’ pride in traditional African
beliefs which in turn has led governments to promote
traditional African ideas about illness and healing and
thus also ideas about witchcraft. Such traditions are also
often associated with ideas about gender, violence, and
exploitative social relations. South African mishandling
of its AIDS epidemic, its high rate of rape and vio-
lence, and its condoning of violence against suspected
witches have resulted in some alarming social problems
and suffering. The works of the anthropologist Isak A.
Niehaus have been critical of some of these ill-conceived
policies.
In this book, Ashforth provides vivid, rich, and
gloomy accounts of the poverty, violence, ill-health,
and social insecurity pervasive in Soweto. In a society
where the overwhelming number lack the economic or
educational resources to provide a decent life or the
means to comprehend or attack the sources of their
misfortunes, the population has resorted to belief in
traditional supernatural explanations and to violence. In
his long accounts of this appalling situation Ashforth
provides a valuable introduction to this misery of a
modern African slum. This account, alas, would also fit
many other parts of the world as well. Yet the accuracy
and vivacity of Ashforth’s descriptions of a way of life
in no way justify the validity or utility of the beliefs
held by those he describes. Such beliefs make sense in
terms of the deprived intellectual and social conditions
of the protagonists; they do not make sociological sense
in terms of understanding either why that social world
is the way it is or how it could be changed.
I have praised Ashforth’s skill in painting a picture
of the terrible conditions of poverty and violence in
an African town. I also admire this Kafkaesque tran-
scription of his interview with a local African politician
who wants to appear modern and enlightened but who
reveals appallingly muddled and backward ideas about
the reality of witchcraft and the possible justification of
violence against it.
It is clear that Ashforth himself is poorly equipped
sociologically to analyze his material. For example, he
writes: “... Just as people united in feelings of love
can seem to generate a force that is external to each
of them and that they can experience as acting upon
them independent of their wills, so can hate, ‘witchcraft’
seems as good a name for this phenomenon as any.” This
is not coherent social analysis. Ashforth closes with a
sense of confusion: “... had I but a little more skill
in logic than, alas, I possess, I could show that all the
precepts upon which I have been content to live my life
in a world without witches are demonstrably as baseless
as those supporting my friends as they make their way
through witch-ridden worlds” (317).
This book is full of sympathy for poverty-stricken
and uneducated Africans and conveys many of the
depressing conflicts that beset modern urban Africans.
Many of the descriptions are striking and memorable.
It is, therefore, disappointing and annoying that the
work is marred by sociological confusion and a times
self-dramatizing pontification. T. O. Beidelman
Bajalijewa, Toktobjubju Dshunuschakunowa: Vor-
islamische Glauben der Kirgisen. Berlin: Reinhold
Schletzer Verlag, 2002. 120 pp. ISBN 3-921539-96-X-
(Mittelasiatische Studien, 7) Preis: € 22,00
Academic as well as public interest in Central Asia,
which used to be part of the Soviet Union, has increased
dramatically since the Soviet republics have gained
independence 15 years ago. Until the disintegration of
the Soviet Union, Central Asia had largely been a blank
spot on the ethnographic maps of “Western” academic
scholarship. Soviet ethnographers were the only ones
to explore that region, and even their accounts were
few and far between. It is mainly for these reasons that
the study at hand is a welcome contribution to research
on Central Asia. It is an abbreviated translation int°
German of Bajalijewa’s account on pre-Islamic belief5
and their survivals amongst the Kyrgyz, which had been
published in Kyrgyzstan in 1972.
In this ethnographic account, Bajalijewa offers an
interesting insight into some of the magico-religi°uS
practices of the Kyrgyz, which is based on fieldwoi
she has conducted since the late 1950s in variou5
areas of what is today the Kyrgyz Republic, as we
as on a review of previous studies by Russian nn
Soviet scholars dating back to the late 19th century-
In the three-page-introduction to the book, she brier)
discusses these sources and explains her own fieldwo
procedure. This is also the place, where Bajalij6^
outlines her main theoretical interest in studying 1
religious worldviews and practices of the Kyrgyz ' '
describing the “relics” of magico-animistic, shamanistlC’
and other customs and rituals, she is trying to reconstr
the history of early forms of religious life in that regu
and, thus, to establish the “ethnogenesis” of the Kyrg-,
This view places her squarely in a Soviet ethnograp1“'
Anthropos
Rezensionen
251
tradition that proposes an evolutionary view of history
and a hierarchy of ethnic groups, which are placed at
various “stages” of human development.
The fairly late “Islamisation” of the area of Kyrgyz-
stan and Kazakhstan from the 18th century onwards has,
according to Bajalijewa, led to an increasing syncretism
°f religious practices and beliefs, still to be observed
today. Bajalijewa’s explicit aim is to distill from this
syncretism the magical traditions that existed before the
advent of Islam to the region.
The book is divided into five chapters that are dealing
with different aspects of what Bajalijewa considers to
be pre-Islamic traditions - “relics” of totemistic be-
liefs, the cult of nature and magic in the economic
household, ancestor and burial cults, beliefs in demons,
and shamanistic cults. In the first chapter, Bajalijewa
describes the significance of animals and plants in the
jnagico-religious life of the Kyrgyz. In what she labels
totemistic” rituals, the Kyrgyz revere a considerable
tturnber of animals and plants as references for their
Tibal belonging - for instance, tracing back tribal origins
t° a deer or a wolf - which often implies a prohibition
°f killing them or a belief in the healing powers
°f these beings. In this section Bajalijewa takes the
reader through the entire spectrum of animals venerated
ky Central Asians, Siberians, and Mongols, describes
various mythical stories and practices associated with
the
powers of the respective animals. She comes to
conclusion that these observations are proof for the
fisting totemistic traditions among the Kyrgyz and for
le close “ethnogenetic” linkages between the peoples
Siberia, Mongolia, and Central Asia.
This theme is further expanded in chapter two, which
^cuses on the so-called cult of nature, a veneration
. various elements of the natural environment, includ-
es skies, moon, stars, thunder, lightning, water, soil,
e°untains, lakes and sources, fire and the hearth. Dif-
Ujrent practices in relation to these elements are said
bave an impact on economic and other aspects of
e among the Kyrgyz. After lengthy descriptions of
ese practices, Bajalijewa concludes that indeed the
lre natural environment has become personified and
Used to manipulate various aspects of life. Deities -
t^Sonified nature - are assigned holy places, at which
Kyrgyz worship, and this later obtains some kind
^ Islamic” overtones (even though Muslim orthodox
gnta is strictly opposed to this kind of worshipping
c,.ctlCe)- In the final analysis, this is again proof for Ba-
*wa °f the “ethnogenetic” ties between the Kyrgyz
1 n other “old Turkic elements.”
Otis n chaPter three, the reader is introduced to the vari-
ed ^lCetS nncestor cults that, according to Bajalijewa,
be observed among the Kyrgyz (and other Central
vy lan Pooples). She draws a direct link between ancestor
eXr» ^ anc* animistic beliefs and practices, which find
Or “ essI°n in the existence of “ghosts.” These “ghosts”
°n tf16 Toad are said to have great influence
of e bves of the living and are, therefore, at the centre
Wa *** attention in order to avoid mishaps. Bajalije-
escribes the great care that is taken to correctly
Anth;
r°pos 101.2006
perform all the rituals necessary not only for a “proper”
burial, but also for a decent death, and the appropriate
commemoration ceremonies at regular intervals after the
funeral. The reader is taken through a vast range of
traditions and practices, which in the final analysis are
said to ensure a good life for the surviving relatives.
Bajalijewa links this again to animistic beliefs and sees
in the ancestor cults “relics” of what she calls patriar-
chal-gentile conditions, which, in turn, relate the Kyrgyz
to other peoples in the region.
From ancestors the reader is then in chapter four
taken to the belief in demons and various sorts of
“ghosts” or “spirits,” good and evil. Here, Bajalijewa
is careful to point out the similarities between most
of the Central Asian peoples, and offers an extensive
account of the healing and destructive powers of these
demons, which are said to take human or animal shapes
and can only be seen and controlled by some human
beings. As with the ancestors, great care must be taken
not to “offend” these demons in order to avoid harmful
punishment by them. The most obvious link, according
to Bajalijewa, between demons and punishment can be
seen in the personification of illnesses, which have to
be “exorcised.” The reader is being familiarised with
a broad range of demons and the diverging ways in
which the Kyrgyz and other Central Asians used to deal
with them. For Bajalijewa, the belief in those demons
is further evidence for the existence of “religious relics”
among the Kyrgyz.
From the control and manipulation of demons it
is only a short step to the role played by shamans
among Central Asians, which is presented in the final
chapter of the book. In this section, Bajalijewa gives
an overview over the different shamanistic practices and
rituals that have been observed by numerous researchers,
she describes the preconditions of becoming a shaman,
the various kinds of shamans, their special relationships
to “spirits,” and their different healing practices. The
reader gets a very detailed impression of the shamanistic
practices to be witnessed amongst various peoples of
Central Asia, Siberia, and Mongolia, which is again,
according to Bajalijewa, proof of the ethnogenetic links
between these peoples and is supposed to help us better
understand, where on the “evolutionary ladder” we can
place the Kyrgyz of the 20th century.
In a sense, this is a highly valuable account of
many of the magico-religious views and practices of
the Kyrgyz (and other peoples of Central Asia and
Mongolia), as it summarises some of the findings of
the most prominent Russian and Soviet ethnographers
of that region, such as Abramzon and Valikhanov, and
supplements it with original material gathered by the
author herself. The translation of this book makes this
scholarship accessible to a German-reading audience
and is, therefore, an important contribution to broaden
the knowledge about Central Asia in the “West.”
There are, however, serious shortcomings to be noted
about this work and its translation. It might seem unfair
to criticise a book that has been written more than
30 years ago and that is so obviously coloured by Soviet
252
Rezensionen
ethnographie traditions and theories - the evolutionary
view of history, theories of “ethnogenesis,” and the
search for “relics” of previous “stages” is more or
less explicit throughout the book. Readers, who are
interested in the Central Asian or Siberian regions,
will be familiar with this and will be able to “blend
it out.” What is left is a “thick description” of some
of the magico-religious practices amongst the Kyrgyz,
some dating back to the 19th century, thus allowing
contemporary scholars to compare the current situation
with the observations laid down in this book and to
follow up processes of change.
These theoretical leanings aside, a couple of other as-
pects deserve mentioning - even though ample reference
is made to the prc-Islamic situation, Islamic teachings
and norms are either not considered at all or only in a
cursory manner, or they are depicted wrongly from an
Islamic perspective. Factual errors here include serious
misspellings of Arabic terminology, the significance of
Sufism in both Islam and shamanistic traditions, and the
wrong use of Islamic formulae. This misrepresentation
or neglect of Islamic teachings begs the question of how
to determine which of the observed practices and beliefs
are actually pre-Islamic, if the Islamic content of those
practices is unknown.
One of the positive aspects of this book is that Baja-
lijewa uses a vast amount of quotes in Kyrgyz (which,
of course, makes reading for the reader unfamiliar with
the Kyrgyz language a somewhat annoying experience),
so that even minute differences in terminology can be
verified by the reader. Yet, despite the fact that Bajalije-
wa is bilingual (Kyrgyz-Russian), her translations (or at
least the German translations of the Russian translations)
are not always very accurate, so that readers unfamiliar
with Kyrgyz cannot enjoy the full and precise details of
her quotes.
Quite apart from the often simplistic assumptions and
conclusions of Bajalijewa’s work, the translated version
deserves comment. It would have been useful for the
reader, especially those, who are not so familiar with
the region and Soviet-style ethnography, to find a brief
introduction about the study, the author, and the context.
As it stands, there are too many points of criticism that
are not immediately obvious to the unfamiliar reader,
which, if not expressed, can lead to a rather distorted
picture of religious practices among the Kyrgyz. Fur-
thermore, what made the reading of the translation into
German a less than pleasurable experience, was the
fact that the book is replete with typographical and
grammatical errors. One should have thought that at
least the name of the country - Kyrgyzstan - is spelt
uniformly throughout the book (and if the spelling in
the Russian original was divergent, it should have been
noted). There are also some obvious mistakes in translit-
erating the Kyrgyz and the Russian with Latin letters,
which impede academic accuracy. Moreover, since the
translation is an abbreviated of the Russian original, it
would have been very useful for the interested reader
to have the places marked, where original text has been
cut out.
Overall, this book is an interesting contribution to
scholarship about Central Asia, which can prove useful
for scholars, who are already familiar with the area.
It can be used in courses for advanced students (with
a knowledge of German!), but should be used by
newcomers to the field only with careful guidance.
Julia Droeber
Barnard, Timothy P.: Multiple Centres of Authori-
ty. Society and Environment in Siak and Eastem Suma-
tra, 1674-1827. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2003. 206 pp-
ISBN 90-6718-219-2. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
lijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, 210)
Price; € 30,00
Die vorliegende Studie befasst sich thematisch mit
der Entstehung und Entwicklung eines malaiischen
Staatswesens - hier des Sultanats Siak an der Ostküste
Sumatras. Insbesondere interessiert den Verfasser dabei
die Frage, wie in einer “Grenzregion” (frontier region)
Sumatras solche Staatswesen ihre Autorität entfalteten
und Legitimität erwarben “as both Malay States and
localized reflections of their own social and ecological
environment” (6). Einen Schlüsselbegriff für die Kenn-
zeichnung des soziokulturellen Umfelds dieser sumatra-
nischen Grenzregion übernimmt der Verfasser aus dem
“Hikayat Hang Tuah”. Darin tritt ein Mann aus dem
Siak-Gebiet auf, der die Bevölkerung seiner Region als
malaiisch und zugleich als kaeukan bezeichnet. Kacu be-
deutet soviel wie “gemischt”, im Gegensatz zu sungguh,
“wahrhaftig, wirklich, echt”. Diese Gemischtheit oder
Diversität motiviert die Frage nach den Optionen und
nach dem kulturellen Modell, die der Autorität eines
politischen Zentrums in verschiedenen ethnischen und
sozioökonomischen Kontexten Resonanz und Wirksam'
keit verschafft. Es geht gewissermaßen um die Klarm
mer, die “multiple Zentren der Autorität” Zusammenhalt-
wodurch das Staatswesen zum lokalen Reflex seiner
Umwelt wird.
Die verschiedenen ökologischen Zonen und die da-
mit verbundenen Lebens- und Wirtschaftsweisen sinü
Gegenstand von Kap. 2 - Binnenland, Flussläufe un
Uferzonen, Flussmündungen und Küsten. Die ethni-
schen Hauptprotagonisten sind Minangkabau, Mala1'
en und orang asli. Unter letzteren fasst der Verlas
ser sowohl die sammelnd-nomadisierenden Gruppen de*
Bergländer sowie die orang laut zusammen; spezie
die orang laut spielen im weiteren Verlauf des BucI>eS
aus naheliegenden Gründen die größere Rolle. Zu die
sen drei Segmenten kommt die typische multiethnischß
Zusammensetzung von Küstenorten der indonesische11
Inselwelt.
Mit Kap. 3 beginnt der chronologisch organisie’^
Teil der Studie. Es behandelt das späte 17. Jh., als naC
einer Ausweitung des Pfefferanbaus in der Region Z(
entdeckt, abgebaut und exportiert wurde. Die UneinU.
keit und die Rivalitäten zwischen den diversen - uka(^
- Gemeinschaften verdeutlicht der Verfasser anhand L
Konflikte und wechselnden Allianzen mit drei extern n
Mächten, die in der Region an Einfluss zu gewim1 •
Anthropos 101
,2006
Rezensionen
253
suchten; Johor, das traditionell die Souveränität über
Ostsumatra beanspruchte; die Herrscher von Minang-
kabau und die VOC. Nach dem Rückzug der letzteren
blieb Johor, das sich mit Gewalt eine prekäre Vorrangsi-
tuation erwerben konnte. Die Herstellung einer Einheit
in dieser kacu-Region gelang im frühen 18. Jh. Raja
Kecik, dem Begründer des Herrscherhauses von Siak.
Seine Karriere beschreibt und analysiert der Verfasser
tn Kap. 4: die verschiedenen Elemente der Ursprungs-
tnythe, mit denen Raja Kecik seinen Autoritätsanspruch
begründete; die multiethnische Gefolgschaft, die er für
den entscheidenden und siegreichen Angriff auf Johor
üm sich versammelte (1718) - womit er zugleich eine
aUgemeine Abneigung gegen die als oppressiv empfun-
dene Herrschaft von Johor artikulierte.
Die folgenden Kap. 5-8 behandeln, das Hauptthema
des Buches immer klar im Blick, die weitere Entwick-
lung von Siak: “[The] experimentation with governmen-
tal structure continued throughout the eighteenth Century
^ith each generation of Siak rulers” (176). Solche “Ex-
perimente” konnten verschiedene Modelle der Teilung
v°n Autorität, aber auch die verstärkte Anwendung von
^tvangsmitteln bedeuten. Der Wohlstand durch Handel,
der sich in den Jahrzehnten um 1800 in der Region Siak
einstellte, verschärfte die Problematik einer Konzen-
Ration von Autorität, indem einzelne Gemeinschaften
dadurch besser in die Lage versetzt wurden, ihre eigenen
^lele zu verfolgen und sich als eigene Staatswesen zu
dublieren (z. B. Asahan oder Deli). Diese interne Dy-
namik wurde durch Veränderungen im externen Faktor
er kolonialen Präsenz verstärkt. Der “Niedergang” -
edust von Autorität und rasche Verkleinerung des Ein-
assgebiets - bildet den chronologischen Endpunkt des
Caches.
k den im Übrigen eher trocken geschriebenen Text
gleitenden Karten hätten mit den heute zur Verfügung
euenden Mitteln wohl aussagekräftiger gestaltet wer-
n können. Es wäre ebenfalls nicht fehl am Platz gewe-
^ n’ das geographische Umfeld des historischen Gesche-
s ns durch einige Photos zu veranschaulichen (falls und
le We*t heute noch möglich). Der Verlauf der Lektüre
Z\fl ^erner folgenden Gedanken nahe: Das Dilemma
derlschen zentripetalen und zentrifugalen Kräften, das
c r Erfasser als eine “constant of a kacu society lo-
ti() °n a fr°ntier” (8) kennzeichnet, ist aus “tradi-
da^e^en” Staatswesen der Region wohl bekannt, ohne
z .. man auf Konzepte wie kacu oder “frontier region”
der ^greifen braucht. Ganz am Ende des Buches lädt
¡u • er^asser dann auch ein, im Spezialfall Siak eine
Me /testad°n von weiter verbreiteten, ja eher typischen
vs t rna*en zu sehen und das Konzept von “Malayness”
is ,1acu zu relativieren: “Fundamental to this study ...
be e belief that the kacu-ness associated with Siak
Pust1*6 ^ntiansic t0 Malayness. As was true with al-
ide ].a11 states in the region, the Siak dynasty localized
by -d understandings of authority that, exemplified
tales a a^ Melaka, had been passed down through oral
°Ue an<^ court texts. ... Though Siak may represent
püree*d of the spectrum of Malayness, the idea of a
0r sungguh Malay state was a chimera. In reality,
Anth
all Malay States were kacu and localized ...” (177). Es
ist das Verdienst des Buches, in einer konzisen Fallstu-
die mit klarem thematischem Fokus die verschiedenen
Dimensionen und Konsequenzen von Diversität und die
Versuche, Möglichkeiten und Strategien ihrer Überwin-
dung in einem übergreifenden Staatswesen erkundet zu
haben. Stefan Dietrich
Biardeau, Madeleine: Stories about Posts. Vedic
Variations around the Hindu Goddess. Ed. by Alf Hilte-
beitel and Marie-Louise Reiniche. Chicago: The Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 2004. 358 pp. ISBN 0-226-
04595-1. Price: $45.00
Madeleine Biardeau is a leading French Indologist.
The book under review is an English translation of a
French work originally published in 1989 under the title;
“Histoires de poteaux: Variations védiques autour de la
Déesse hindoue.”
The blurb describes the work as her magnum opus. It
is also a tour de force, with twenty years of work behind
it, which opens up a new direction in the field of Hindu
studies. Hindu studies has long been characterized by
a major methodological bifurcation, with textual philo-
logical studies constituting one fork and anthropological
ethnographic studies the other. Scholars traveling down
one fork have typically had little to offer to the other
except perhaps nods of mutual recognition without nec-
essarily involving mutual comprehension. The landscape
of Hinduism one sees is virtually determined by the fork
taken.
Such optics is radically altered by the present work
which takes both these methodological orientations
simultaneously into account, with the result that a
metaphor different from the fork-in-the-road is required
to represent the new situation. This could be the railway
line metaphor, with the two methodological orientations
now representing two lines of the same railway track,
which from a distance even produce the illusion of being
one. Now the landscapes revealed are not as dissimilar
as in the case of the previous metaphor. This is a break-
through. And it could not have come at a better time.
For example, in this book the obscure bucolic figure
of Pôtu Râju is brought into relation with the sacrificial
post of the public rituals of Vedic Hinduism not by way
of artificial juxtaposition but through a ramifying net-
work of family resemblances and semiotic associations,
which brings the reader to the verge of astonishment
with its delicate intricacy that does not sacrifice plau-
sibility. Be warned that this book is difficult to read,
but be consoled that it is a book easy to follow. It
combines excruciating scholarly complexity with light-
ning-like insightful clarity as the author develops the
enticing thesis that Hinduism should be studied in the
same holistic way in which Hinduism is practised, with
the historical philological and structural anthropological
approaches to be viewed not in stark and naked opposi-
tion but in rich and fertile apposition, for the movement
of the tradition itself is not dichotomous but dialectal,
or, even better, the lived reality of the tradition is not
,r°Pos 101.2006
254
Rezensionen
dualistic but integral. Both the historical philological and
structural anthropological approaches are abstractions of
this integral reality, which commit an act of epistemic
violence in the very process of such abstraction. The
following statements in the book, for instance, culled at
random, could apply both to Hinduism and the study
of Hinduism: “Hinduism in its totality is structured
around the Vedic sacrifice” (2). “... practices officially
reserved for upper castes reach the lowest castes” (2).
“The local/pan-Indian opposition dissolves at the lev-
el of deep structures” (5 note 3). “... they inscribe
themselves together in a complete restructuring of the
notion and practice of sacrifice” (93). “Nothing would
be more misleading than to divide Hindu society into
two according to the criteria of the pure and impure”
(257). “At what level did the differentiation, or con-
vergence, operate?” (286 note 29). “Yet we are not at
the end of our surprises” (304). “Thanks to the saml’s
permanent ambiguity, it can now impart peace rather
than destruction” (305). “... the supposed dichotomies
become more or less blurred at each attempt to clarify
them” (308).
This is significant because Western Indology is fast
becoming suspect in educated Hindu circles as an
academic form of gazing at the navel, or a little lower
down. Such a book dispels this suspicion by dwelling
meaningfully rather than meretriciously even on such
otherwise tempting themes as the mock-copulation in the
Asvamedha (175 f., 201 f., 230) or even Duryodhana’s
version of showing the finger (90) and rescues their
respectability in the exemplary treatment of allusions to
the lingo. (58); human sacrifice (63), Asvamedha (190,
201); Puranas (289), Agni (269), varnasankara (113
note 9), Kolam (104, note 5); and Amba (177, note 119)
of the “Mahabharata.” Speaking of the “Mahabharata,”
Biardeau continues to be skeptical of the hermeneutic
value of the critical edition of the text (90, note 40)
despite whatever heuristic value others like Professor
D. H. H. Ingalls might see in it. A very Hindu sentiment.
Some questions and suggestions do arise as one
harvests the scholarship offered in these pages. The book
offers an extraordinarily thorough ethnography of the
buffalo-sacrifice but one misses the discussion of the
Harappan material (unless it has escaped the reviewer’s
sometimes somnolent eyes). This is puzzling in the
light of the following interpretation of the well-known
proto-Siva seal which presses all the relevant buttons.
“Scholars have until recently identified this horned yogic
person as a proto-image of Siva. More recent research
has identified the scene depicted on the seal as being
linked with an archaic form of the still-practiced buffalo
sacrifice to the Goddess. On the seal the Goddess is
represented next to her mount, the lion, which is shown
in a dynamic posture facing the seated figure on its
right, corresponding to the northern direction with the
Goddess. The yogic posture of the buffalo-horned god
has been interpreted as expressive of the destructive and
creative power entailed by the sacrifice. The sacrifice
itself aims at a symbolic unification with the Goddess.
In many popular South Indian myths concerning this
sacrifice, the buffalo is depicted as desiring or actually
uniting with the Goddess in the guise of a lower-caste
husband or suitor. As David Shulman has shown in his
discussion of South Indian mythology, Siva becomes
the buffalo” (Frédérique Apffel-Marglin, “Yoni”. In: L.
Jones [ed.], Encyclopedia of Religion; vol. 14: 9905.
Detroit 2005).
One more point. It has long puzzled this reviewer
why, in describing the Asvamedha, Albîrûnî (973-
1048) refers to the sacrifice of a mare, rather than a
stallion (Alberuni’s India II: 139): “Most of the Veda
treats of the sacrifices to the fire, and describes each
one of them. They are different in extent, so that certain
of them can only be performed by the greatest of their
kings. So, e.g., the asvamedha. A mare is let freely 1°
wander about in the country grazing, without anybody’s
hindering her. Soldiers follow her, drive her, and cry
out before her; ‘She is the king of the world. He who
does not agree, let him come forward.’ The Brahmans
walk behind her and perform sacrifices to the fire where
she casts dung. When she thus has wandered about
through all parts of the world, she becomes food tor
the Brahmans and for him whose property she is.”
The fact that the mare occurs so often in the
homologous buffalo-sacrifice (174, 176, etc.), which
must have been widely prevalent at the time Albîrûnî
was writing, offers a glimmer of an explanation. Was
there a substitution of a stallion by a mare and does h
reflect the ahimsdization of the ritual, for the female of
an animal species may not be killed, at least with the
same licence, as the male, despite what Albîrûnî states
towards the end of the passage.
It has been standard procedure in Indology so far t°
take the materials yielded by the historical philological
method, and the materials yielded by the anthropologie31
ethnographic method and try to understand them with
the help of Western hypotheses (e.g., the Indo-Euro-
pean) or Western explanatory theories (e.g., Marxism-
Freudism, and so on). This has often produced results
which have been glamorous without being profound, °r
even stable. Madeleine Biardeau seems to whisper: Why
not try to understand both these sets of data in the fig'11
of each other? Could it be that they are like two locks
boxes, each containing the key to the other?
Arvind Sharm3
Bichler, Gabriele Aisha: Bejo, Curay und Bin-Bim
Die Sprache und Kultur der Wolof im Senegal (mit an
geschlossenem Lehrbuch Wolof). Frankfurt; Peter Lang’
2003. 401 pp. ISBN 3-631-39815-8. (Europäische Hoc»'
schulschriften, Reihe 27: Asiatische und Afrikanis*-
Studien, 90) Preis; € 68,50 t
Nach dem verdienten Linguisten Walter Pichl 1
sich in Wien nun eine junge Ethnologin der Wo(
Forschung angenommen; Gabriele A. Bichler hat &
generelle Einführung in die Sprache und Kultur L
Wolof vorgelegt, die auf ihrer Dissertation aus dem J
2001 beruht. Die Wolof-Forschung ist in der deutsc
sprachigen Ethnologie und Afrika-Linguistik seit
Jahmn
Anthropos
101
2()06
Rezensionen
255
unterrepräsentiert, und es ist nur zu begrüßen, wenn
Publikationen zu diesem Thema erscheinen.
Bichlers Buch ist in drei Teile gegliedert: Der erste
Teil stellt die der Untersuchung zugrunde liegende Theo-
rie und Methode dar. Im zweiten Teil behandelt die Au-
torin Geschichte, Politik, Religion und Sprachsoziologie
der Wolof. Der dritte Teil des Buches besteht aus einem
kurzen, einführenden Sprachkurs des Wolof.
Der erste, theoretische und methodologische Teil des
Puches stellt die Fragestellung vor. Sie lautet: Ist es
für den Spracherwerb des Wolof nötig, auch Aspekte
der Kultur zu erlernen? Die Frage wird bereits bei ihrer
ersten Nennung mit einem klaren “Ja” beantwortet. Die
^eitere Darstellung der Methoden (teilnehmende Beob-
achtung, ethnopsychoanalytische Ansätze, Expertinnen-
gespräche und Literaturrecherche) wird leider nicht auf
diese Fragestellung bezogen, sondern verbleibt bei einer
gut gearbeiteten, allgemeinen Darstellung der Methoden
bzw. in ebenfalls nicht uninteressanten Erfahrungsbe-
r*chten aus der eigenen Feldforschung. Ähnlich vage
bleibt die Studie im theoretischen Bereich. Obwohl die
Äutorin einige Modelle der, wie sie es nennt, Soziolin-
guistik (z. B. Sprachpolitik, Bilingualismus, Psycholin-
guistik) anreißt, bezieht sie diese nicht auf die zuvor
aUgeführte Fragestellung des Buches.
Der zweite Teil des Buches, der Basisdaten, Politik,
puschichte, Religion, sprachsoziologische Angaben und
Formationen über Medien und Bildungswesen dar-
kann als eine allgemeine Einführung in Land und
eute Senegals gelesen werden. Diese Darlegungen sind
L
durchweg gut recherchiert und zusammengefasst, insbe
sondere ist die Verwobenheit der Wolof-Kultur mit der
'damischen Kultur hervorragend dargestellt. Doch auch
ler fehlt der klare Bezug zur Fragestellung der Arbeit.
Interessant und in der Forschung neu ist das Kapi-
I 15 der Arbeit über “Zehn ausgewählte Begriffe zur
Ustrierung meiner Forschungsfrage” (169-193). Hier
^®ut die Autorin auf die tiefen kulturellen Hintergründe
vermeintlich leicht zu übersetzenden Begriffen wie
Qyci (Tee), nijaay (Mutterbruder) oder fudden (Hen-
r, I ein. Diese Wörter weisen auf zentrale kulturelle
e- Füsselkonzepte des guten Lebens hin, die man bei
^ er Übersetzung berücksichtigen muss. Z. B. erfährt
r Leser hier, dass das Wort nijaay nicht nur dem Onkel
a feriieherseits gilt, sondern im übertragenen Sinne
q b als liebevoller Beiname von Ehefrauen für ihre
te^en verwendet wird. Auch die im Titel aufgeführ-
1,'n fegriffe he jo (Unterrock), curay (Weihrauch) und
1171 (die Hüfte schmückende Perlenkette) werden
esern Abschnitt erstmals erwähnt und erklärt, auch
m ,n Fre prominente Nennung im Titel eine größere
(o futung für die Studie hätte vermuten lassen. Bejo
t)jCht°^raPbisch richtig ist: beeco), die man in Dakar
sieht Se^ten ungehemmt auf Wäscheleinen aufgehängt
v0n ’ stellen sexuell eindeutige Szenen dar und sollen,
der .er Ehefrau unter dem eigentlichen Rock getragen,
cuu Führung des Ehemanns dienen. Curay (richtig:
^lQy) wird nicht etwa in religiösen Kontexten ver-
Son,. el' wie es die deutsche Übersetzung suggeriert,
ern ^t Teil der Gastfreundschaft der Wolof, wenn
üthr,
°Pos 101.2006
er zur Feier des Gastes entzündet wird. Im ehelichen
Schlafzimmer wird er von Frauen gerne eingesetzt, um
ihre Männer zu betören. Auch die parfümierten, beim
Laufen Geräusche machenden bin-bim (richtig: bin-bin)
dienen diesem Zweck. Die hier zum Ausdruck kommen-
de, bisher wenig erforschte Verführungskunst der Wolof-
Frauen, ihre kulturellen Hintergründe und alltäglichen
Praktiken sowie ihre diskursiven Kon-Texte hätten noch
sehr viel stärker im Zentrum des Buches stehen können.
Dennoch ist dieser Teil des Buches der innovativste und
forscherisch eigenständigste.
Im dritten Teil des Buches unternimmt die Autorin
den Versuch, einen Grundkurs des Wolof zu entwickeln,
der die Erkenntnis mit einbezieht, dass, um ein kom-
petenter Sprecher einer Sprache zu werden, Kenntnisse
der kulturellen Bedeutungen unabdingbar sind. Der Ab-
schnitt des Buches ist somit nichts weniger als das erste
deutschsprachige Woloflehrbuch. Das Konzept des Kur-
ses ist gut ausgedacht und nachahmenswert: Jede Lekti-
on umfasst grammatische und Sprechübungen, Vokabu-
lar, grammatische Erklärungen und einen Kommentar,
der die Kommunikationskultur erläutert. Im sprachtheo-
retischen Aufbau trägt das Lehrbuch jedoch leider nicht
der Tatsache Rechnung, dass Wolof eine Aspektsprache
ist, dass die Aspekte zusätzlich einen grammatikalisier-
ten Fokus beinhalten und dass das Wolof Aktions- von
Zustandsverben unterscheidet. Zudem orientiert sich der
Kurs an der Variante, die in Dakar gesprochen wird,
d. h. der am stärksten von französischen Lehnwörtern
durchsetzten und durch Code-Switching und syntakti-
sche Übernahmen veränderten Variante. Diese Unter-
lassungen erschweren ein Sprachlernen, das im Land
erfolgreich sein soll, erheblich. Zudem ist das Buch
wegen vieler orthographischer, grammatischer und se-
mantischer Unfeinheiten und bisweilen Fehler für den
Sprachunterricht - wie ich selbst feststellen musste -
nur sehr eingeschränkt zu gebrauchen. Das Anliegen
des Kurses aber, Sprachlehre mit Kulturvermittlung zu
verknüpfen, ist voll zu unterstützen.
Gabriele Bichler hat ein sehr hybrides Buch vor-
gelegt, dem eine klare Linie fehlt. Der durch den Ti-
tel suggerierte Fokus auf die Kultur der Weiblichkeit
wird leider nicht eingelöst. Vielmehr verfolgt das Buch
unterschiedliche Anliegen: Die zumindest im zweiten
Teil durchgängige, jedoch unausgesprochene Hauptfrage
lautet: Warum hat sich das Wolof bislang nicht zur of-
fiziellen Sprache Senegals entwickelt? Die proklamier-
te Fragestellung des Buches hingegen (Ist es für den
Spracherwerb des Wolof nötig, auch Aspekte der Kultur
zu erlernen?) scheint mit ihrer übereilten Beantwortung
eher zu eine Arbeitshypothese des Buches geworden
zu sein als zu einer ernsthaft diskutierten Frage. Ein
nicht unwichtiges drittes Anliegen war es, ein kulturelles
Sprachlehrbuch des Wolof zu entwickeln. Das Buch
hat der Autorin ferner die Gelegenheit eröffnet, über
ihre langen Aufenthalte in Dakar und ihre Teilnahme
am Leben einer Wolof-Familie zu reflektieren. Diese
Abschnitte gehören zu den kurzweiligsten des Buches.
Was bei der Lektüre deutlich wird, ist, dass wir
es mit einer in der Wolof-Kultur kompetenten Autorin
256
Rezensionen
zu tun haben. Es kommt durch viele Anekdoten und
Nebensätze klar zum Ausdruck, dass Bichler viele lange
Forschungsaufenthalte in Senegal unternommen und
engen Kontakt zu den Menschen gepflegt hat. Das
Buch kann also als eine gute, sprachlich ansprechende
Einführung in Land und Leute Senegals gelesen werden;
und nicht zuletzt ist der Sprachteil trotz aller Mängel
besser als der auf Deutsch zu erwerbende Sprachführer
von M. Franke (Wolof für den Senegal. Bielefeld: Reise
Know-Flow Verlag, 2002; Reihe: Kauderwelsch, 89).
Christian Meyer
Bowen, John R.: Islam, Law, and Equality in In-
donesia. An Anthropology of Public Reasoning. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. 289 pp.
ISBN 0-521-53189-6. Price: £ 18.99
In “Muslims through Discourse. Religion and Ritual
in Gayo Society,” a book published ten years before the
present one, John Bowen discussed at the very end some
of Max Weber’s theses on rationalization. He confronted
the Gayo situation with two statements by Weber and
said that what happens in the Gayo highlands (in the
centre of Aceh in northern Sumatra) conforms with
Weber in that processes of making religion internally
more coherent as well as modernizing religion by getting
rid of “magical” content do exist. But then he stressed
that neither does Weber’s concept of the nonsystematic
character of “primitive religion” hold true nor is there a
uniform direction for religious change. Expecting more
pressure to be exerted on religious coherence from
the side of the Indonesian state one could have been
sceptical about this view as I was in my review of that
book (Asiatische Studien 47.1993: 682-686). Bowen’s
assessment was correct and it can be transferred to the
vast field of public reasoning that has to do with legal
cases, legal taken in a wide sense. Political changes
due to the efforts of a new president and the agreement
between the Indonesian government and the GAM (both
happened after the publication of the present book)
may both even reduce internal coherence. But they will
certainly not reduce the necessity of public reasoning,
and Bowen demonstrates again the eminent role of
public reasoning in Gayo society. The notion of public
reasoning, not public reason, resumes the concept of
discourse used widely in the former book, but adds the
public character and the absolute necessity to arrive at
solutions and agreements to prevent the society from
permanent tensions or even from falling apart.
In “Village Repertoires,” part 1 of the book, Bowen
starts with two views of Western philosophers and
political theorists on how societies that encompass dif-
fering subcommunities can live together, admitting and
accepting differences of values and forms of life. Some
argue that these subcommunities should agree on a core
set of liberal principles, others are of the opinion that
when no such core set can be found one should look for
a modus vivendi. Indonesia is seen by the author as an
apt place to study ways in which people reason about
competing norms and claims about how people ought to
live, drawing on highly local ideas, on national values,
and on universal rights and laws. Islamic law, norms of
adat, or state regulations are quoted to justify claims,
but neither of these issues is coherent in itself. The
interest of the author lies in the ways people select from
their “repertoires of justification” in public reasoning
about norms and laws concerning marriage, divorce, and
inheritance. As the basic practices that constitute, divide,
and reproduce family relations, they - across all levels
and institutions of society - relate to family and gender
and form a major field of public reasoning. By the use
of two examples of disputes over land Bowen not only
demonstrates the enormous responsibility which rests
with those who decide to be the ones to settle a dispute.
Not only do they have to reconcile the different parties,
but they also have to handle multilevel phenomena and
polysemantic notions as is shown with the concepts of
hukum, shari’a, and adat. Analysing how the first land
dispute was settled, Bowen makes out “three features of
public reasoning in Indonesian disputes.” First, people
should not violate past agreements that were arrived
at through consulting and then agreeing on a solution.
Second, the central challenge for the mediator was hoW
to make the status quo valid in the eyes of the ancestors
and in the eyes of state officials. Third, adat did not
dictate a solution; prevalent was that public reasoning
took place on a “metalevel” (35) relative to adat, Islam»
and state regulations, on a level of reasoning about the
interrelationship of these various kinds of law and social
norms. Villagers engage in metanormative reasoning-
In part 2, “Reasoning Legally through Scripture," "/e
are taken to the courts. Bowen shows how judges, Ju'
rists, historians, and ordinary Muslims have sought way8
to justify or critique social norms on the basis of Islarntc
tenets, and to reinterpret Islam on the basis of othe1
social norms. Where adat was place-bound, Islam Ju'
ridically displaces people. Islam has an intrinsic affinity
with movement, and “Islamic law describes the juridica
relationships among persons in a resolutely universal^
fashion, based on ties of birth and marriage” (68). The
author introduces the reader to two courts in Takengcn-
the provincial town, where, besides Isak, he did filin'
work since the late 1970s. The elegant way of shiftmS
from general topics like the characterization of IslamK
law to a lively description of what is going on m
and
around the buildings of the Islamic court and the civ*j
court respectively, to vivid biographies of the judges an
than to two chapters on the judicial history of decist°
making make this part a brilliant introduction to con
life in Indonesia. The more so, as Bowen compares n
“material” with information on decision-making in 1 "
Minangkabau area drawing mainly on Benda-Beckma'
and Dobbin. Most cases have to do with gifts (hi-H[
and bequests (wasiat) made before death. And the maj
problem posed are the relative shares of an estate to
rewarded sons and daughters, once by itself, and m
as it touches on the eternal validity of the Qur’an &
the opinion of some judges and jurists, that the Qul
“has a temporal quality” (163). This problem reim1"
unsolved.
Anthropos 101.2»06
Rezensionen
257
The final part deals with marriage and divorce and
with the question of whose word is law. It deals with
gender equality in the family and again with dividing
property, this time after divorce. And it ends with
a statement that the pluralism of values and social
norms is an irreducible fact of Indonesian life. Whatever
“rule of law” ought to mean in terms of transparency,
adherence to procedure, protecting citizens from harm
and loss, it must also incorporate this value-pluralism.
Bowen names four elements which can be considered
as basic in Indonesian public reasoning: the importance
°f precedent, principle, pragmatism, and metanormative
reasoning (258). This is a far cry to Rawls’s “political
conception of justice” shared by all (Rawls) and the core
Set of liberal principles, and Bowen sides with those
who, considering the countless repertoires of reasoning,
are looking for a modus vivendi within Indonesian
society where no clear telos can be made out of what
lhe basic structure of society might be.
The latest volume of Bowen’s Gayo trilogy is superb
anthropology. Wolfgang Marschall
Brown, Michael F.: Who Owns Native Culture?
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003. 315 pp.
JSBN 0-674-01171-6. Price: £ 10.95
Der Titel des Buches zielt auf eine Entwicklung ab,
le in den 1980er Jahren damit beginnt, dass nordameri-
arfische Indianerorganisationen die Rückgabe indiani-
scher Gebeine und Sakralobjekte aus völkerkundlichen
tuseen fordern. Etwa gleichzeitig fangen Vertreter der
Australischen Ureinwohner an, Prozesse gegen Textilher-
stelier anzustrengen, die Kleidungsstücke mit nichtauto-
^sierten Reproduktionen von Aborigine-Gemälden be-
rucken. In den 1990ern kommen dann weltweit Forde-
hJngen nach Annullierung von biotechnologischen und
^ arrnazeutischen Patenten auf, die mit traditionellen
eil- und Nutzpflanzen in Verbindung stehen. Inzwi-
en geht die Tendenz dahin, das gesamte kulturelle
j e als Eigentum der jeweiligen Ethnie zu betrachten.
s mer öfter wird gefordert, nicht nur Einzelelemente,
dern die jeweilige Kultur als Ganzes unter Schutz zu
s . n- Und es sind nicht mehr allein indigene Organi-
p l0nen und die sie unterstützenden NGOs, die solche
¡hr <lerun§en erheben: Entsprechende Vorschläge haben
en ^eg bis in die Vereinten Nationen gefunden,
«^chael Brown unterzieht diese Bestrebungen in
§is h ^Wns Native Culture?” einer kritischen ethnolo-
chi 6n Analyse- Anhand zahlreicher, sorgfältig recher-
ün(^rter Fallbeispiele (mehrheitlich aus Nord-, Mittel-
dje Südamerika sowie Australien) zeigt er zunächst
s Praktischen Probleme auf, die mit dem rechtlichen
verp 2 Von materiellem und geistigem kulturellem Erbe
keit ünden sind. Was gibt es überhaupt für Möglich-
ste! bestehenden rechtlichen Instrumente sind
^raotenS nur Bedingt geeignet. So steht zwar außer
ipdi 6’ dass das Copyright prinzipiell auch für die Werke
^■°nkrner Künstler gelten muss. Aber mit wem soll im
eten Fall über Lizenzgebühren verhandelt werden,
ein Gemälde, wie bei den Aborigines, obwohl es
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
das Produkt eines individuellen Künstlers ist, als Eigen-
tum des ganzen Clans verstanden wird? Und was, wenn
es, wie das im Bereich der Folklore die Regel ist, über-
haupt keinen identifizierbaren Autor gibt oder wenn sich
das kulturelle Erbe mehrerer Ethnien überschneidet?
Ähnliche Probleme stellen sich bei der kommerziel-
len Nutzung indigener Pflanzen. In den meisten Fällen
beschränkt sich deren Vorkommen und die Verbreitung
des darauf bezogenen Wissens ja nicht auf ein einziges
Volk: Wie soll verhindert werden, dass eine Ethnie oder
eine Fraktion derselben (Einigkeit ist auch bei indi-
genen Völkern selten) das gemeinsame Erbe an einen
Außenstehenden verkauft? Ein Total verbot, wie es von
manchen NGOs gefordert wird, ist kaum zu kontrol-
lieren und auch aus indigener Sicht nicht unbedingt
wünschenswert. Einfacher zu kontrollieren sind Verbote
im Zusammenhang mit wichtigen sakralen Orten. Doch
je größer die landschaftlichen Einheiten sind, die indi-
gene Gruppen unter Schutz stellen lassen wollen, des-
to schwerer tun sich freiheitlich-demokratisch verfasste
Staaten damit, solchen Forderungen nachzugeben. Auch
die Überprüfung, ob der erhobene Anspruch in der Tat
authentisch ist, kann schwierig sein. Ein radikaler epis-
temologischer Relativismus, wie er von manchen NGOs
vertreten wird - keine Nachweispflicht, ausschlagge-
bend müsse allein der Glaube der jeweiligen Gruppe
sein -, sei, wenn es um öffentliche Güter geht, nicht ak-
zeptabel und wegen der ihm inhärenten Gefahr des Miss-
brauchs letztlich auch für die Indigenen kontraproduktiv.
In den letzten Kapiteln des Buchs wird Brown
grundsätzlicher. Die Forderung nach vollständiger Kon-
trolle über die eigene Kultur gehe von einem unzeit-
gemäßen Essentialismus aus. Die zugrunde liegende
Vorstellung, dass jede Ethnie auch eine klar abgrenzbare
Kultur besitze, widerspreche nicht nur der heutigen,
zunehmend “hybriden” Lebensrealität nahezu aller in-
digenen Völker: Sie ignoriere auch, dass sich Kultur
seit jeher über den Austausch mit anderen konstituiert.
Brown sieht in diesem Zusammenhang nicht nur die
Gefahr, dass der geforderte Schutz zum goldenen Käfig
werden könnte, sondern auch, dass sich die Unterstützer
indigener kultureller Rechte letztlich genau der Logik
unterwerfen, die sie eigentlich bekämpfen: “Advocates
of the indigenous ‘we own our culture’ perspective find
themselves in the odd position of criticizing corporate
capitalism while at the same time espousing capitalism’s
commodifying logic and even pushing it to new ex-
tremes. This position fragments what should be broad
public Opposition to the ways that the Microsofts and
Mercks and Disneys and AOL Time Warners of the
world manipulate the intellectual property System to
their advantage” (237).
Als Alternative zur Festschreibung von umfassenden
kulturellen Rechten plädiert Brown deshalb für Verhand-
lungslösungen von Fall zu Fall; Gegenseitiger Respekt
- und darum gehe es letztendlich - komme nur durch
Dialog zustande. Dass dieser Dialog erst dann stattfindet,
wenn die entsprechenden rechtlichen, politischen und
institutioneilen Voraussetzungen vorhanden sind, wird
leider nur noch am Rand thematisiert. Genau diese Vor-
258
Rezensionen
aussetzungen sind aber - anders als in Australien und
den USA - in vielen Dritte-Welt-Staaten eben gerade
nicht gegeben. Ansonsten ist “Who Owns Native Cul-
ture?” aber ein durchaus ausgewogenes Buch, das einen
wichtigen und erfrischend kritischen Beitrag zur Debatte
um geistiges Eigentum und indigène Rechte leistet und
obendrein noch gut zu lesen ist. Bernhard Wörrle
Chibnik, Michael: Crafting Tradition. The Making
and Marketing of Oaxacan Wood Carvings. Austin:
University of Texas Press, 2003. 266 pp. ISBN 0-292-
71247-2. Price: $50.00
Jedem Besucher Oaxaca’s (im Bundesstaat Oaxaca,
Mexiko) fallen die bunt bemalten Schnitzarbeiten und
die alebrijes Fabel-Figuren auf, die in vielen Galerien
und Märkten in allen Größen zum Verkauf angeboten
werden, gelten sie doch als charakteristische, ja traditio-
nelle zapotekische Arbeiten. Zentrum der Schnitzarbei-
ten ist Arrazola, ein kleines Dorf südwestlich von Oaxa-
ca. Die dort gefertigten Arbeiten sind Teil eines nicht nur
in Mexiko sondern weltweit wachsenden Marktes einer
Kunst, die im englischen als “ethnic and tourist art” -
im Deutschen oft unzulänglich als Volkskunst übersetzt
- bezeichnet wird.
Chibnik’ s Untersuchung reiht sich in die aktuellen
Arbeiten zur “ethnic and tourist art” vor dem Hinter-
grund der Globalisierungsdiskurse ein. Im Unterschied
zu zahlreichen Studien sieht er jedoch weniger die von
außen bestimmten Dependenzen, sondern multidirektio-
nale kulturelle und wirtschaftliche Beeinflussungen und
beschreibt eine aktive Rolle der indigenen Kunsthand-
werker, gestalterisch wie ökonomisch. Entscheidend ist,
und darauf verweist der Autor mehrfach, dass es sich
bei den Holzschnitzarbeiten nicht um etwas “Traditio-
nelles”, typisch “Indianisches” handelt, sondern um eine
Entwicklung, die erst in den 80er Jahren des letzten
Jahrhunderts ihren Anfang nahm und bis heute erfolg-
reich betrieben wird. Dies ist ein fundamentaler Unter-
schied zu anderen vermarkteten indigenen Kunstformen,
die durch den globalen Markt hybridisiert, transfor-
miert wurden und hitzige Diskurse über Authentizität
auslösten. Chibnik’s Untersuchung ist keine kunsteth-
nologische Betrachtung und so steht auch nicht das ge-
schnitzte, bemalte Objekt, dessen Ästhetik oder funktio-
nal-symboltheoretische Überlegungen im Zentrum der
Arbeit sondern die Schaffung und Weiterentwicklung
einer Tradition, einer Identität und kulturellen Repräsen-
tanz sowie die Vermarktungsstrukturen vor einem loka-
len und globalen Kontext.
Die Publikation ist das Ergebnis zahlreicher Besu-
che des Autors zwischen 1980 und 1990 und mehrerer
Forschungsaufenthalte von 1995 bis 2001 in Oaxaca.
Die zahlreichen kürzeren Aufenthalte ermöglichten es
nach Aussagen des Autors, eine Langzeitstudie durch-
zuführen und so beispielsweise besser Marktverände-
rungen aufgrund des floatenden Peso zu erkennen oder
Änderungen der ökonomischen Strategien der Schnit-
zerhaushalte herauszuarbeiten. Chibnik, der als Profes-
sor für Anthropologie an der University of Iowa lehrt.
gliedert seine Untersuchung in 13 Kapitel einschließlich
einer Einleitung und Schlussbemerkung.
Die Geschichte der Holzschnitzarbeiten in Oaxaca
(Kap. 2) begann erst Mitte des letzten Jahrhunderts im
Dorf Arrazola und ist eng mit Manuel Jiménez, dem
ältesten und erfolgreichsten Schnitzer, verbunden. Jimé-
nez, der die Tradition der Masken- und Spielzeugschnit-
zerei pflegte, erkannte zusammen mit einem Händler das
Absatzpotential, das eine wachsende Nachfrage seitens
der Touristen bot, und erweiterte daraufhin erfolgreich
sein Angebot: von Heiligen- über Cortés-Figuren, Fa-
belwesen bis hin zu den verschiedensten Tieren. Sein
Erfolg regte andere an, es ihm gleichzutun. Die steigen-
de Nachfrage in Oaxaca, neue Vertriebsstrukturen, eine
bessere Infrastruktur sowie eine staatliche Förderung
begünstigten die Entwicklung des Schnitzhandwerkes.
So entstanden neben Arrazola weitere Schnitzergemein-
den: San Martín Tilcajete, La Unión Tejalapan und San
Pedro Taviche.
Die Ausführungen über zeitgenössische Schnitzar-
beiten (Kap. 3) zeigen, dass in den 90er Jahren Familien
ohne jedwede Tradition erfolgreich mit dem Schnitzen
begannen. 1990 war in Arrazola und San Martin Tilca-
jete fast jede Familie im Kunsthandwerk tätig. Die als
“the wood carving boom” beschriebene Zeit von 1986^
1990 brachte einen wachsenden Wohlstand sowie eine
schnell einsetzende interfamiliäre Arbeitsteilung: Wenig
anspruchsvolle Arbeiten, wie das Schmirgeln, übernah-
men Kinder, Frauen bemalten die Objekte, während das
Schnitzen bis auf ganz wenige Ausnahmen im Aufga'
benbereich der Männer lag und bis heute liegt. Dass
zwischen den Schnitzergemeinden wenige Kontakte be-
stehen, verwundert, doch erklärt dies auch die verschiß'
denen Ausführungen der Schnitzereien.
Ebenso unterscheiden sich die ökonomischen Vof'
aussetzungen und Strategien in den Dörfern (Kap. 4)-
Ausführlich widmet sich der Autor den verschiedenen
wirtschaftlichen Strategien ausgesuchter Schnitzer in
den Dörfern (Kap. 5). Kennzeichnend sind für Chibnik
Strategien, die von einer Risikovermeidung/minderung
aufgrund mehrerer wirtschaftlicher Tätigkeiten der ef'
weiterten Familien, einer Langzeitplanung und einer
flexiblen Fertigung geleitet werden. Neben den vorham
denen ökonomischen Ressourcen - wie bebaubares Lan
- bestimmt das Handeln oft die Sorge, die Nachtrag6
könne nicht ewig andauern. Weitere wichtige Faktoren
sind neben der Auftragslage die AngebotsausrichtuiV
und die interfamiliäre Arbeitsteilung, Faktoren, die an
hand ausgewählter Haushalte anschaulich darlegt w6'
den. Anhand gut gewählter Beispiele wird ebenso d
Herstellungsprozess beschrieben und der Frage nach 6
jeweiligen Inspiration nachgegangen. Die eher vag6
und ausweichenden Antworten schreibt Chibnik ehr ^
cherweise einer “naiven” Vorgehensweise seinerseits
(Kap. 6).
Leider erfährt der/die Leser/in wenig über Schnu
rinnen und den wichtigen Part der Frauen, das Bema
der Stücke, denn nur in Kap. 9 wird eine Schnitz0
kurz vorgestellt. Ein zentraler Punkt ist die EinbindrUc
und das Agieren der Schnitzer bzw. der Gemein
de*
Anthropos 101
2(#
Rezensionen
259
und die lokale Arbeitsorganisation vor dem Hintergrund
eines globalen Marktes (Kap. 7). Unbestreitbar ist, dass
die Schnitzergemeinden direkt von der Fertigung profi-
tieren und die Kommerzialisierung der Handwerkspro-
duktion die ökonomische und soziale Organisation der
Dörfer verändern, oftmals zum Positiven. Stellen sie
doch eine, ja die entscheidende Einkommensquelle der
ländlichen Bevölkerung der untersuchten Gemeinden in
einer strukturschwachen und von Arbeitsmigration ge-
prägten Region dar.
Neben zahlreichen Außenfaktoren, wie die wachsen-
den Touristenströme, eine günstige Peso/Dollar-Parität,
vorteilhaften Zollregelungen für Kunsthandwerk, eine
Weltweit steigende Nachfrage nach Kunstgewerbe, die
Nutzung neuer Kommunikationsmethoden (Fax, Tele-
fon, Internet), hat sich als eine überaus erfolgreiche
Strategie der einzelnen Familien bzw. Schnitzer die
formale Spezialisierung, die Entwicklung eines eigenen,
Unverwechselbaren individuellen Stils im Schnitzen und
Bemalen herausgebildet (Kap. 8). Dies wird wiederum
uiit ausgewählten Beispielen und Photos anschaulich
herausgearbeitet.
Dass einige Künstler dabei erfolgreicher sind als an-
dere, erscheint vordergründig als eine “Binsenwahrheit”.
Chibnik differenziert jedoch in (1.) erfolgreiche Schnit-
2er, die sog. teuere “high end”-Objekte für Sammler
und Händler (meist Auftragsarbeiten) in Familienarbeit
fertigen, die sog. artesanos, und (2.) die sog. commer-
Clantes, die Angestellte relativ billige Objekte fertigen
Nssen. Mit vier Beispielen erfolgreicher Schnitzer wird
beschrieben, was für diese Erfolg bedeutet: materieller
Wohlstand, die künstlerische Reputation und Anerken-
nung. Ausführungen über den Einfluss des Journalismus
nuf den Kunststil und die Nachfrage (Kap. 10), die Ver-
uufsorganisation in Oaxaca (Kap. 11) und in den USA
'Nap. 12) schließen die Arbeit ab.
Chibnik, der seine Publikation zu allererst als eine
thnographie über die Holzschnitzer in Oaxaca im glo-
aUn Kontext bezeichnet, ist eine fundierte, vielschich-
*§e und interessante Untersuchung gelungen. Besonders
gütlich herausgestellt wurde neben der handwerklichen
Innigkeit die aktive Rolle der Schnitzer, sowohl künst-
r)sch als auch ökonomisch. Positiv ist, dass den einzel-
u Kapiteln, in denen mit ausgesuchten, aussagekräfti-
^ n Beispielen von Schnitzern, mit Photos, Karten und
, abellg
kU:
Jen gearbeitet wird, zumeist ein theoretischer Dis-
* vorausgeht und die aktuelle Literatur einbezogen
s rc|- Nicht ganz überzeugen konnten die Gliederung
^. le die teilweisen inhaltlichen Überschneidungen und
^Jederholungen, die aus dieser Gliederung resultieren
Pai-p ^ und 5 sowie Kap. 6 und 9) und die Texte
Ai ,le,^ Unstrukturiert erscheinen lassen. Ebenso sind die
§eo(* rUn^en bber das zentrale Tal von Oaxaca - von
^raPhischen Daten über die präkolumbischen Stätten
He]1116 ^>an und Mitla, über ethnische Identität und
f°n bis zu hin zur Arbeitsmigration in die USA -
napp drei Seiten (Kap. 4) doch etwas isoliert.
Andreas Volz
Aath
Cipolletti, María Susana (ed.): Los mundos de aba-
jo y los mundos de arriba. Individuo y sociedad en las
tierras bajas, en los Andes y más allá. Tomo en homenaje
a Gerhard Baer en su 70 cumpleaños. Quito: Ediciones
Abya-Yala, 2004. 599 pp. ISBN 9978-22-489-0.
This is a Festschrift in honour of the eminent
Swiss ethnographer Gerhard Baer who during many
years has presented us with a number of meticulously
researched studies from the Matsigenka and Piro peoples
of the Peruvian Montaña. Principally, his academic
interest has concerned issues relating to cosmology
and shamanism but in his work from the area can
also be found an engagement in the well-being and
political and legal rights of the people with whom he
has been living. Moreover, Gerhard Baer has, as director
of the Museum für Völkerkunde und Schweizerische
Volkskunde (Ethnographie Museum) of Basel, produced
a large number of studies related to the collections
and exhibitions of that museum. The number of his
publications is consequently considerable though never
failing in quality and depth.
Gerhard Baer’s popularity is clearly demonstrated in
the size of “Los mundos de abajo y los mundos de
arriba” to which no less than 24 friends and colleagues
have contributed. The range of Baer’s social and aca-
demic network is also apparent. Most of the contributors
are anthropologists or ethnohistorians but there is also
a biologist, a jurist, an archaeologist, and a historian of
religion. The geographical distribution of the different
ethnographical cases discussed by the various authors
is also widespread - most of the cases discussed are
from the Amazon but cases from other parts such as
the Andes, Patagonia, Chaco, and even New Guinea
are presented. The temporal dimension covered by the
different contributions is similarly extensive and stretch
from pre-Colombian times to the present. The many
contributors deal with almost as many themes and the
chapters are accordingly not organized in keeping with
some apparent order. Likewise the formats of the various
papers differ, the shortest counts 8 pages while the
longest amounts to 43 pages, some come with abstracts
others lack them, etc. The variation is, moreover, not
only limited to form and content but unfortunately also
as to quality. Most of the papers are well researched but
a few give an impression of having been put together
rather hastily. A thorough proof reading or even a simple
spell check would as well have improved some of the
papers of the book.
The book opens with a short biographical portrait
of Gerhard Baer and a bibliography that also includes
the films in whose making he has been involved.
In the first of the various contributions that follows,
E. Jean Langdon examines the role of dreams in Siona
culture and how they are associated with conceptions of
shamanism. The interpretation of dreams, it is argued,
serves to de-essentialize the notion of “shamanism” and
the individual dreams that are analysed demonstrate
how shamanic power can wax and wane. Langdon
also discusses the process of emergence of the Self as
articulated in the interpretations of dreams.
lr°pos 101.2006
260
Rezensionen
Elke Mader examines magical formulas and songs
(anents) used as love magic among the Shuar and
Achuar to show how they reveal important aspects in
regard to gender relations among the Jivaroan peoples.
Mader notes that an important metaphor used in the
anents is “domestication” which recently has been in-
terpreted in terms of male predation. Mader argues,
however, that there exists a gender related difference
in regard to this metaphor and that to women it refers
to an ambition to create intimacy and conviviality.
In his contribution, Jean-Pierre Chaumeil examines
the trickster within Yagua mythology. He finds the trick-
ster to be a creative figure and, thus, he challenges the
understandings of, e.g., Boas, Lowie, Radin, and Lévi-
Strauss according to whom the trickster is an amoral and
irrational figure. The importance rendered the trickster
leads him to ask how we shall understand those societies
in which the spirit of play, the paradoxical, the absurd,
and subversive are seen as central for human creativity.
The paper of Mario Califano examines Huachipaeri
notions of the powers that are transferred to the bow
through the singing of the so-called estiva songs. In these
songs the bow is associated with hard wood, the jaguar,
and the sun that all give of their power to both the bow
and the bowman.
Mark Miinzel’s paper is a critical reflection upon
how anthropologists relate to the Other in regard to the
ways in which the Other relates to its Other. Mimzel’s
ethnographical point of departure is the Kamayura myth
of Kanaratÿ in whose contact with the Other the author
sees a series of parallels to the meetings of anthropolo-
gists with the Other. The paper is a critical appreciation
of what Miinzel considers to be a tendency among an-
thropologists to ignore failings and shortcomings of the
Other while at the same time we place stricter demands
upon ourselves to act politically correct.
Ulrike Prinz argues in her chapter for the employ-
ment of a performative perspective that is closely related
to Thomas Gregor’s notion of drama. The perspective is
subsequently applied in an analysis of a Mehinaku ritual
that serves as a mute rite de passage which, according to
the author, produces both new bodies and new identities
of those being initiated.
Only two of the authors refer to the Matsigenka
among whom Gerhard Baer has worked. One of them is
Wolfgang Kapfhammer who, following Peter Gow, ar-
gues that mythological schemata may be used to explain
certain prominent historical transformations. Kapfham-
mer compares two myths, “Emperador Korakonani” of
the Matsigenka and “Ase’i Emperador” of the Sateré-
Mawé, that both concern relations with foreign rulers.
The Matsigenka associate Korakonani (curaca) with the
rubber barons and in the myth he comes out as an
evil person who exploits the Matsigenka and takes their
wives. Eventually a man steals the soul of Korakonani
who withers away and dies. The relation between the
Sateré-Mawé and the Emperor is in contrast described
in more positive terms in the myth as he allows them
to live the life they choose. Kapfhammer concludes that
these myths can be seen as metaphoric statements that
explain the kind of relationship maintained with White
people. In the case of the Matsigenka they are more
suspicious as to the intentions of the Whites they come
in touch with while the Satere-Mawe acknowledge their
ties to the Whites upon whom they depend.
The contribution of Luis Boglar and Marcos Brasil
Simas is basically a presentation of a project to be
launched regarding ethnohistoric aspects of the Xokleng.
Diego Villar discusses in his article the complex
concept of yoshini and its polysemy among the Chacobo
and other Pano-speaking groups among whom it is an
important cosmological notion related to evil and often
associated with the blowing of winds and the darkness of
night. The yoshini also constitutes an “animic entity” (or
“soul”) of humans that can be manipulated by shamans.
As such an entity, it becomes stronger as the person
becomes older and at death it frees itself from the body
and turns into a feared spirit that haunts friends and
relatives. The yoshini is also the personified spirit of the
dead or the forest, and, finally, it is also the principle
that animates the tree, the rain, shadows, the night, and
certain animals. Formerly, the yoshini were not consid-
ered to be morally evil by the Chacobo but religious
missionaries have demonized them and to translate the
concept into Spanish they use the word “diablo.”
Alejandra Siffredi and Marina Matarrese aim to re-
construct Aonikenk’s (Tehuelche) conceptions of spiri-
tuality through an analysis of myths. They argue that the
various myths about Elal acquire a quality of sacredness
and as these myths are frequently told in many contexts
they come to form crucial aspects of the Aonikenk’s
world vision.
In his paper, Thomas P. Myers challenges the as-
sumption that the earliest description of densely popu-
lated banks along the Solimoes River was wrong. Myers
tries to map the population development and mobility
along the river between 1542 and 1700 departing frof1
the descriptions found in the works of de Carvajaf
Oviedo, Acuna, and Fritz. Myers concludes that the de-
mographic development has been complex and variable
and not unequivocally one of decline that lately has been
the common understanding.
Pastor Arenas is a biologist and in his contribution
he describes the plants that were used to tint the tattoos
of the peoples of the Gran Chaco.
Jorge Edgardo Cordeu discusses in his paper the na-
ture of the relations maintained between the Tomaraxos
(Chamacoco) and the Caduveo. Their relations are com
monly assumed to have been asymmetrical with №
Caduveo being the dominant part. In his examination 0
nine stories from the Chamacoco there appears, thoug
another picture and Cordeu concludes that the situ3
tion was far more complex than commonly has beo11
expected. jj
Basing himself on archival sources Eduardo
Montero examines the relationship between the Spa®1
and the indigenous peoples of the La Plata and
pas regions during colonial times as well as how
indigenous groups interrelated in relation to the colon!
power in Buenos Aires.
Anthropos 101-300
Rezensionen
261
Monika Ludescher is a jurist and in her paper she
makes a meticulous review and analysis of the Peruvian
legislation referring to land rights of the indigenous
peoples in the Amazon in general and particularly in
regard to all those areas that are classified as of use to
forestry {tierras de uso forestal).
The paper of Michael Kraus is not so much about the
Amazon as it is about Theodor Koch-Griinberg’s opin-
ion of Amazon peoples and how his perspective or mode
of presentation differs in relation to whom he addresses.
Kraus examines two text genres, academic dissertations
and public talks, and notes that Koch-Griinberg was
Presenting a positive and uncritical image of the Amazon
Peoples in the latter kind of texts while he in the former
kind of texts adhered to evolutionist notions. Kraus
describes these two modes of presentation as strategies
to convince the different readers or audiences to whom
lhe texts are addressed. To understand the strategies,
Kraus argues, it is not sufficient to just examine the texts
hut one must also take into consideration the period of
time and the ideas that then were dominant.
In her contribution, Maria Susana Cipolletti discusses
two religious phenomena: ecstasy, or the possibility to
Send one’s soul on cosmic voyages, and possession,
the temporary occupation of one’s body by an external
Power. These phenomena she examines on a general
South American lowland level from what she describes
as a doubly emic perspective, that is, she examines
what the individual protagonists actually say which is
implemented with the expressions of shamanic cos-
tttograms. Cipolletti seems to imply that the condition
lhat possession is rare in the lowland areas follows from
^oierindians’ ethos of independence according to which
sharnans should be able to maintain some control over
ae beings that they deal with otherwise they would be
c°nsidered failures as religious specialists.
Iris Gareis discusses in her contribution the social
, tensions of love magic in urban Peru and Mexico
111 colonial times that was inspired by Spanish magic
Influenced by the novel “Celestina,” written by Fernando
e Rojas and published the first time in 1499. Gareis
nftes that although the clients came from all circles
.^society it was principally poor single women or
of
Md
0 °Ws who performed the magic which meant an
q 10n for them to gain both sustenance and respect.
0 are's COncludes that the love magic reflected the social
th er'.^ased on power and dependency relations, on to
6 £nVate sPdere °f life-
of tl/arkUs Reindel examines the political organization
Ut e Nazca society. He notes that in the archaeological
arg atUre there are proponents of two positions: some
otjlee that Nazca was organized as a chiefdom while
hln/8 ^at ^ was a primitive state (in the sense of
gr,^an Service). Departing from excavations of various
aUd CS10 ^a*Pa the author discusses the two standpoints
c0n leaches the conclusion that it is hard to find
otherUsiVe evidence for the one as well as for the
^azc 8tance- hfe hnds h, however, fairly obvious that
hvn 4 Society was in a transitional state between the
Vh]
'Organizational forms.
r°P°s 101.2006
The final chapter of the book belongs to Alain Mon-
nier who takes us from the South American continent
to the Gulf of New Guinea and to the Aird Hill area
inhabited by peoples such as the Porome and Kiwai.
The general question that Monnier’s paper addresses is
the degree to which the appreciation of what is beauti-
ful is universal. In examining how beauty is perceived
by these peoples, he turns his inquiry towards the in-
digenous oral tradition. In myth he finds a number of
references that links a prominent nose with conceptions
of beauty. This association seems to be common in the
wider region which becomes clear as Monnier revises
the literature concerning peoples to the west of the Aird
Hill region, notably the Asmat and Kamoro. Referring
to Alfred Cell’s suggestion that beauty and functionality
is closely linked, Monnier argues that the association
between beauty and a prominent nose is based on the
place of the nose in the middle of the face. The facial
position makes the nose into a potent metaphor for
balance and harmony that in the oral tradition come out
as epitomizing beauty.
Regarding the rather special genre of Festschrifts,
there are apparently two forms according to which
they can be organized editorially: either friends and
colleagues are invited to reflect around a particular
theme or research interest of the object for celebration
or, alternatively, friends and colleagues are invited to
contribute to a volume that will be presented in his
or her honour. This latter editorial form allows for the
largest number of contributors as there are few if any
restrictions as to what can be dealt with. The present
volume is obviously of the second kind which also
is revealed by the title of the book that leaves little,
if anything, outside of what can be included. Should
I ever be the object of a Festschrift I think it would
be nice with a volume in which a large number of
people contributed. From the perspective of the general
reader I fear, however, that the volume would be less
attractive as they could not be expected to feel the same
enthusiasm for the sheer number of people wanting to
contribute something in my honour.
Dan Rosengren
Das, Veena, and Deborah Poole (eds.); Anthro-
pology in the Margins of the State. Santa Fe: School
of American Research Press; Oxford: James Currey,
2004. 330 pp. ISBN 1-930618-41-7; ISBN 0-85255-
948-8. Price: £ 16.95
Seit die Verfechter einer neoliberalen Wirtschaftsord-
nung mit dem Begriff von der Globalisierung ihrem
Anspruch nach einer neuen Weltordnung Nachdruck
verleihen, ist eine Debatte darüber entbrannt, welche
Aufgaben der Staat hierbei zu übernehmen hätte. Sei-
tens der großen internationalen Organisationen wie etwa
dem IWF und der Weltbank wird ihm nur mehr ein
kümmerliches Dasein als Mediator zivilgesellschaftli-
cher, ökonomischer und militärischer Interessen zuge-
wiesen. Mit Strukturanpassungsprogrammen, die eine
Verschlankung staatlicher Aufgaben und eine Reduzie-
262
Rezensionen
rung staatlicher Ausgaben zum Ziel haben, gehen diese
beiden Organisationen vor allem in den sogenannten
Entwicklungsländern daran, ihre Vorstellung von Frei-
heit und Demokratie umzusetzen. Welche Auswirkun-
gen dies auf die jeweiligen staatlichen Strukturen hat,
einerseits den freien Verkehr von Gütern, Dienstleistun-
gen und Finanzmitteln zu garantieren und andererseits
den Ansprüchen der Bürger, sie vor Not und Elend zu
bewahren, gerecht zu werden, ist in zahlreichen Studien
untersucht worden, die zu unterschiedlichen Ergebnissen
kommen. Für die einen bewirken die Reformen eine
finanzielle und organisatorische Krise des Staates, die
ihn daran hindert, seine Aufgaben zu erfüllen, bzw. dazu
führt, dass er beginnt sich aufzulösen. Für die anderen
garantieren die Reformen vor allem den Bürgern mehr
Freiheit und Wohlstand. Nur für die Randbereiche des
Staates ziehen viele Studien eine negative Bilanz. Hier
verliert der Staat seinen ordnungspolitischen Machtan-
spruch und neue Akteure treten in Erscheinung, um
sich in diesen “staatsfernen” Gebieten an die Stehe der
staatlichen Autorität zu setzen.
In dem von Veena Das und Deborah Poole herausge-
gebenen Sammelband über die Ränder des Staates be-
trachten die Autorinnen aus unterschiedlicher Perspek-
tive, wie die Menschen angesichts der über sie gekom-
menen Reformen konkret vor Ort miteinander agieren,
ob sie die Reformen nutzen, unter ihnen leiden oder
aber versuchen, ihnen durch Migration zu entkommen.
Hervorgegangen aus einem Seminar im Frühjahr 2001,
vereint der Sammelband Berichte von Anthropologinnen
zu den aktuellen Veränderungen staatlicher Systeme in
Ländern, denen häufig bescheinigt wird, dass ihr Na-
tion-Building-Prozess fehlgeschlagen und sie eigentlich
nur partielle oder unvollendete Staaten geblieben sei-
en. Die Initiatorinnen des Seminars interessierte der
Wahrheitsgehalt dieser Annahmen und sie luden Kol-
leginnen ein, darüber nachzudenken, inwieweit an den
Rändern der von ihnen beforschten Nationalstaaten, eine
Schwächung der staatlichen Regulationsformen und eine
Verminderung des Zugehörigkeitsempfindens bei den
Bürgern festzustellen sei.
Die präsentierten Forschungsberichte aus Sierra Leo-
ne (Mariane C. Ferme), Tschad (Janet Roitman), Südafri-
ka (Adam Ashforth), Indien (Veena Das), Sri Lanka
(Pradeep Jeganathan), Peru (Deborah Poole), Guatemala
(Diane M. Nelson) und Kolumbien (Victoria Sanford)
revidieren die weitverbreitete Annahme, die rationale
Verwaltungsform der politischen Organisation in einem
Staat nehme entlang territorialer oder sozialer Randbe-
zirke ab. Im Gegenteil, die Handlungsweisen und In-
teraktionen der Bewohner in diesen Gebieten gestalten
zu einem maßgeblichen Teil diejenigen politischen, re-
gulatorischen und disziplinierenden Praktiken mit, die
letztlich das konstituieren, was wir den Staat nennen.
In diesem Kontext unterziehen sie die übliche Defini-
tion des Staates als zentralisierte Kontrolle über ein fest-
stehendes Territorium einer Neuinterpretation. An sei-
nen Rändern zeigt sich zwar die Instabilität seiner Macht
durch die beständige Neu- und Reformulierung sei-
nes Rechtsanspruchs und seiner Ordnung. Dies zwingt
den Staat dazu, in die Territorien an seiner Peripherie
einzudringen und sich Geltung zu verschaffen. Dabei
etablieren sich Formen und Praktiken staatlichen Han-
delns, die ihn einerseits konstituieren und andererseits
auch wieder auflösen, wenn seine eigenen Praktiken,
Dokumente und Werte durch die Aktivitäten der in
diesen Bereichen lebenden Bevölkerungen hinterfragt
und ihrer Autorität enthoben werden. Der potentielle
Kontrollverlust der staatlichen Macht im Raum und über
einzelne Bevölkerungsgruppen bewirkt eine Verlagerung
ihres Disziplinaranspruchs auf den Raum zwischen den
Körpern der Bürger und der Gesetze.
Obwohl unter den Autorinnen keine gemeinsame
Vorstellung darüber besteht, was die Marginalien des
Staates sind, stimmen sie darin überein, dass sich das
einfache Raummodell von Peripherie und Zentrum an-
gesichts der von der Globalisierung angeheizten Refor-
men im sozialen und politisch-ökonomischen Bereich
der Gesellschaften und den hierdurch sichtbar gewor-
denen Verschiebungen in den Beziehungen zwischen
souveränen und disziplinierenden Machtformen über-
lebt hat. Stattdessen beschreiben sie drei unterschied-
liche Handlungsformen staatlicher oder halbstaatlicher
Interventionen in den marginalen Bereichen, die helfen
sollen, die staatliche Autorität wieder herzustellen.
Die Idee des Rands als Peripherie begreift diesen
Bereich als natürlichen Raum derjenigen Menschen,
die unzureichend in die Gesetze des Staates soziali'
siert sind, und wo der Staat mittels der Anwendung
spezifischer Machttechniken, sowohl gewaltsamer wie
pädagogischer, versucht, diese Menschen zu verwalten
und zu befrieden, um sie in gesetzestreue Subjekte zu
verwandeln. Hierfür sind die Kontrollmechanismen des
Staates, die sich in Statistiken und Dokumenten nieder-
schlagen, von großer Bedeutung. Mit ihrer Hilfe ent-
scheiden die Träger staatlicher oder selbsternannter Au-
torität darüber, ob sie die Zertifikate und Dokumente, die
ihnen vorgelegt werden, als echt anerkennen wollen, sie
für lesbar halten oder als Fälschung entlarven können,
um so über die Weiterexistenz oder die Weiterreise der
Kontrollierten zu bestimmen. Die Marginalien bilden so
einen Raum zwischen Körpern, Gesetzen und Diszipl111-
Keine souveräne Macht verlässt sich ausschließlich nur
auf das Territorium, über das sie herrscht. Von ebens°
großer Bedeutung sind die Körper, in denen sich die
Macht einschreibt über ihren Anspruch, pathologische5
von normalem per Gesetz trennen zu können und zu
wollen und so die Körper zu kolonisieren.
Wie gestaltet sich das Verhältnis zwischen 6ie
waltformen, Souveränitätsansprüchen und Ausnahme
r 0 o PS
zuständen in den marginalen Bereichen der Staaten •
lässt sich nicht auf Traditionen, die in die Gegenwu
hinein wirken, zurückführen, sondern ist in die alita?
chen Praktiken eingebettet, ja wird durch diese erst k°n
stituiert. An den Rändern existieren Praktiken, die dm
ihre gewalttätigen und autoritären Formen zur Neu Io1
mulierung der gesetzlichen Grundlagen bei Ausei
dersetzungen aber auch zur Sicherheit in diesen B£fel
chen beitragen. Selbsternannte oder von staatlicher Sc
bestellte Richter und Ordnungshüter oder die so genmlU
Anthropos 101.20»
Rezensionen
263
ten Warlords versinnbildlichen nicht eine aus der Tra-
dition zu begründende Autorität, sondern repräsentieren
neue Machtverhältnisse, die sich sowohl auf eine staatli-
che Gerichtsbarkeit wie auf eine spezifische Auslegung
der Gesetze, nämlich ihre eigene, berufen, wodurch sie
das Justizwesen und das Gesetz neu formulieren und
begründen. Parallel hierzu zirkulieren in diesen Prakti-
ken Vorstellungen über Bürgerschaft und Subjektivität,
die sich in mitgeführten Dokumenten kristallisieren. Die
Autoritäten können die in diesen Dokumenten doku-
mentierten Identitäten bestätigen oder aber zu Fälschun-
gen erklären, was zu entsprechenden Handlungsweisen
wie Inhaftierungen, Strafgebührzahlungen, Erschießun-
gen oder auch Reiseunterbrechungen führen kann.
All dies trägt dazu bei, den Staat an seinen Rändern
zu rekonßgurieren. Die Randbereiche sind keine peri-
pheren Räume, vielmehr, z. B. an ihren Grenzen, deter-
minieren sie, was Innen und Außen ist, wer dazugehört
Und wer nicht. Grenzen und Kontrollpunkte sind Räume,
ln denen die Souveränität, d. h. das Recht über Leben
und Tod zu entscheiden, für jedermann als potentielle
Möglichkeit der staatlichen Organe erfahrbar wird. Dies
Mst Ängste und Panik aus, bringt aber auch neue, krea-
hve Formen ökonomischer und politischer Handlungs-
weisen hervor.
In neueren Staatstheorien ist der Staat der Moderne
durch die Inklusion des natürlichen Lebens der Men-
Schen in die Mechanismen und Kalküle der Macht
konstituiert. Diese Biopolitik erlaubt es, Menschen in
s°lche zu unterteilen, die an der Gesellschaft teilnehmen
dürfen, und in solche, die davon ausgeschlossen wer-
den, weil sie als nutzlos oder rechtlos definiert werden.
adurch verändert sich auch der Fokus der staatlichen
Mnflussnahme. Es geht nicht mehr um räumliche Recht-
sprechung sondern um das Management des Lebens, in
ern Epidemien, die Familienplanung und der Organ-
andel kontrolliert werden. Bestimmte Bevölkerungs-
k'uppen werden nur dann als Bürger anerkannt, wenn
S'e eine Gabe oder ein Opfer erbringen können, durch
üas
un
sie am bürgerlichen Leben teilnehmen können.
Talal Asad argumentiert schließlich, dass der Staat
gegenwärtigen Denken als ein Zeichensystem inter-
niert wird, das ein Eigenleben führt, in dem zwischen
t neT die regieren, und denen, die regiert werden, un-
^ schieden wird, die beide zur Treue gegenüber dem
^aat verpflichtet sind. Wenn das Verhältnis zwischen
Vor^ UnC* ^er von '^m agierten Bevölkerung als eines
...gestellt wird, durch das er Souveränität und Auto-
. 1 flua seiner Verwaltungspraxis über sie erlangt, so
be lC lt der Staat einer Grenzlinie, der den Bürgerkörper
ajfenzt. Der Staat als Randbezirk wird so zentral für
ch r°P°logische Untersuchungen, da sie in der alltägli-
ch n Praxis der Bürger oder derer, die Bürger wer-
Prf föchten, deren Wünsche, Hoffnungen, Ängste und
Sta- rUngen siohtbar macht und aufzeigt, wie sie den
desd durch ihre Handlungen konstituieren. Der Begriff
ktit h taates wdd in unterschiedlichen Diskursen mal
°de em souveränen Staat, mal mit der Staatsregierung
L>j , auch mit staatlicher Politik übersetzt. Jeder dieser
rse bringt eine eigene Sprache für das Gesetz,
Anth
die Justiz, die Staatsraison, die Wohlfahrt hervor, die
die Grundlagen der Souveränität, der Verpflichtung zum
Gehorsam, der Kriterien für Bürgerschaft und der Na-
tionalität, der Rechte zur Selbstverteidigung und der
Strafe definieren und redefinieren. Auch die Grenzen
variieren in diesen Diskursen in Form der Bestimmung
von Mitgliedschaft und Zugehörigkeit, von Innen und
Außen, von Normierung und Erfahrung. Zwei Konzepte
sind hier am Werk. Eines begreift den Staat als eine
Einheit, die losgelöst von denen, die regiert werden, und
denjenigen, die regieren, existiert und ein eigenständiges
Leben führt. Das andere Konzept erachtet den Staat als
den Ausdruck der Macht des Volkes, der nicht losgelöst
von ihrer Gemeinschaft existieren kann.
Über beide wird an den Rändern des Staates ent-
schieden, weshalb sie keineswegs nur einfach marginal
sind, sondern den Aufbau und das Zentrum des Staa-
tes und der staatlichen Macht unmittelbar konstituieren.
Peripherie und Zentrum stehen in einem interdependen-
ten Verhältnis zueinander. Hierauf erneut hingewiesen
zu haben, ist ein Verdienst der hier vorliegenden For-
schungsberichte. Roland Drubig
Dilger, Hansjorg: Leben mit AIDS. Krankheit, Tod
und soziale Beziehungen in Afrika. Eine Ethnographic.
Frankfurt: Campus Verlag, 2005. 368 pp. ISBN 3-593-
37716-0. Preis: €29,90
Dilger presents in this book a fascinating qualitative
in-depth analysis of the far-reaching consequences of
HIV/AIDS in Tanzania for individuals and their relation-
ships. He studied the AIDS epidemic in urban as well as
in rural settings, acknowledging that both settings are a
single social universe with various intersecting venues.
The author’s central tenet is that the AIDS epidemic
strains relationships, concepts of belonging, and ex-
pressions of solidarity, particularly within the extended
family. This poses a major problem for the Tanzanian
society as individuals suffering of AIDS-related ailments
are frequently cared for at home by their relatives,
without much assistance from the overburdened public
healthcare sector.
Relationships between patients and their caregiving
relatives, and resulting rights and obligations, are ques-
tioned by caregivers who experience pain, resentment,
and anger because of the HIV-infection of a family
member. Caregivers are burnt out by the demands of
looking after their sick relatives, and they fear additional
HIV-infections within the family. Disputes within the
family related to inheritance and funerary rites make
matters worse. The stigmatization of HIV/AIDS leads to
further problems in caregivers’ relationships with their
patient. Subsequently, some caregivers withdraw sup-
port from patients. Individuals suffering from the disease
are aware that particularly the stigma of HIV/AIDS may
lead to a lack of support from caregivers and tend to hide
the infection as long as possible. The stigma attached
to the epidemic and those thought to be HIV-positive
also prevents families from admitting the presence of
an individual suffering from AIDS in their midst. Sub-
lr°Pos 101.2006
264
Rezensionen
sequently, a culture of silence and rumor has developed
around the epidemic which affects the ways in which
HIV/AIDS is dealt with on various levels: within the
family, the community, and the whole country.
While AIDS led to a rupture in social relations,
Dilger shows that social obligations within the family
and other supportive networks are renegotiated and re-
defined. In urban areas, NGOs and particularly churches
provide additional networks of social, psychological,
spiritual, and material support for individuals being
HIV-positive or suffering with AIDS. These extrafamil-
ial social groups function as social security for people
with AIDS, particularly women from lower socioeco-
nomic strata. However, within NGO settings a support
system of reliable relationships rarely develops, mainly
because of the fear of negative repercussions by being
exposed as an HIV-carrier through participation in NGO
networks. Dilger concludes that the stigmatization of
HIV-positive individuals and those suffering of AIDS,
thus plays a major role in determining the quality of
the care for those who are sick with AIDS. He further
maintains that AIDS-campaigns within NGOs do not
address the desire of Tanzanians to reaffirm relationships
and define belonging and reciprocal obligations through
ritual practices. This is better addressed by some reli-
gious communities who also provide strong supportive
relationships for individuals.
Dilger extensively studied the Full Gospel Bible Fel-
lowship Church, a young and thriving urban Pentecostal
church that promises material well-being as well as
physical health. Besides the hope for a cure, HIV-posi-
tive members of this church experience solidarity; they
are not facing problems alone. The author argues that
providing social and material support to its members is
based in the church’s theology that being saved from a
sinful world, the believers form a new spiritual family,
that manifests itself through acts of charity and caring
for each other. Dilger presents a picture of the posi-
tive role of Christian churches in producing supportive
beliefs and practices, and contributing to the coherence
of social, spiritual, and familiar domains. However, his
analysis is critical of some aspects of Christian churches
as well as of those of certain traditional beliefs and
practices. He argues that cultural, moral, and religious
practices also result in the stigmatization of the epidemic
and those affected by it that lead to broken relationships.
Dilger posits that moral praxis is a key concept help-
ing us to understand how people in Tanzania deal with
relationships of solidarity challenged by HIV/AIDS.
Moral praxis refers to the actual dealing with suffering
by individuals and groups that is driven by expectations
of “correctness” and “wrongness.” These expectations
are informed by indigenous illness categories, cultural
family values, as well as religious beliefs and prac-
tices. In other words, people not only think of AIDS
in biomedical terms, but relate the symptoms to various
other causes, particularly witchcraft, possession by a
malevolent spirit, breaking taboos, and punishment by
God. The causes are the outcome of certain “wrongs,”
such as sins and transgressions of inherited norms and
values. Dilger discovered that these explanatory models
are interpretations of the epidemic on different levels of
argumentation complementing each other. By and large
they are intermingled and cannot be easily distinguished.
The line of argumentation also quickly changes accord-
ing to the social context as well as over the course of
time.
Dilger describes these scenarios in rich ethnographic
detail by looking at various dimensions of the life of
individuals and their families, a major strength of his
book. The author’s detailed descriptions give credence
to the validity of his conclusions and analyses. His case
studies give a human face to dry and known facts of the
AIDS epidemic.
The book has a few shortcomings. The author claims
that his comparison between rural and urban settings is
unique in the literature but fails to provide an in-depth
analysis of the comparison besides stating the obvious.
Throughout the book, he sometimes makes sweeping
generalized statements without referring to differences
and controversies related to these issues. For instance, he
mentions that Christianity promotes the view that AIDS
is divine retribution for sinful behavior. While this is
perhaps true for the particular church he studied, there
are substantially differing views on this issue among
Christian denominations.
Nevertheless, these few shortcomings do not com-
promise the superior quality of scholarship presented in
this book. Dilger’s focus on the need for relationship8
of solidarity for AIDS-sufferers, his emphasis on the
crucial role of moral praxis for local interpretations
of HIV/AIDS, and his descriptions of the disastrous
consequences of the stigmatization of HIV/AIDS, are
critical to understanding the AIDS epidemic in Tanzania*
in Africa, and beyond. This study belongs to the larger
body of literature dealing with the impact of the AIDS
epidemic on the lives of individuals and their social
networks. Such studies are invaluable for understanding
general patterns as well as local characteristics of th6
epidemic and the human disasters it causes.
Alexander Rödlach
Dobler, Gregor: Bedürfnisse und der Umgang nU
Dingen. Eine historische Ethnographie der Ile d’Oue8'
sant, Bretagne, 1800-2000. Berlin: Dietrich Reim61
Verlag, 2004. 518 pp. ISBN 3-496-02770-3. Preig:
€ 49,00
Die Insel Ouessant, die Dobler zum Gegenstan
seiner Studie gewählt hat, liegt westlich von Brest'
So abgelegen das zu Frankreich gehörende Ouessan1
auf den ersten Blick erscheinen mag, so eindringl|C
schildert Dobler in seiner Studie die historisch 'vßl
zurückreichenden Verbindungen dieser Insel zu Frank-
reich und zum Weltgeschehen insgesamt. Der Wan61^
von Bevölkerungsstruktur, Wirtschaft und Gesell sc ha ^
während der letzten zweihundert Jahre sind der Geg611
stand dieser “historischen Ethnographie”, die aut m11
fangreichen Archivrecherchen und auf einem einjäh11
gen Aufenthalt auf der Insel basiert.
2006
Anthropos 101-
Rezensionen
265
Dobler nähert sich seinem Gegenstand ebenso syste-
matisch wie ausführlich: Er schildert sorgfältig die Ent-
wicklung der Fischerei und Seefahrt, sowie der Land-
wirtschaft auf der Insel. Im Hinblick auf jeden dieser
wirtschaftshistorischen Aspekte findet er zu eigenen In-
terpretationen und gut begründeten Thesen, die mitunter
im Widerspruch zu den verbreiteten Ansichten über die
Gründe des Wirtschaftswandels in der Region stehen.
So zeigt er, dass die Seefahrt nicht aufgrund großer
Armut oder hohen Bevölkerungsdrucks zum dominie-
renden Beruf der Männer wurde, sondern eher aufgrund
der lukrativen Verdienstmöglichkeiten in diesem Be-
reich. Ähnliches gilt auch für die Landwirtschaft, die
Produktiver war, als aus der “Festlandperspektive” viel-
fach angenommen. Zusammen mit den Einkommen aus
der Seefahrt ist sie im 19. Jh. durchweg Grundlage der
Ökonomie der Haushalte in Ouessant.
Zwar führte die Seefahrt kaum je zur Abwande-
rung, da die meisten Seeleute im Pensionsalter wieder
an den Ort der Geburt zurückkehrten; dennoch ist sie
als Element der Bindung an das Weltgeschehen zu be-
frachten und wird auf Ouessant auch in dieser Hinsicht
geschätzt. Das Verhältnis zum Staat ist dagegen viel
°fter von der Abgrenzung sowie der Betonung von Ei-
genständigkeit geprägt. Widerstand gab es zum Beispiel
f*ei der Einführung neuer Steuern. Die staatliche Schule
war lange Zeit weniger beliebt als die konfessionelle,
fnnen dritten Aspekt nationaler Einflussnahme betrifft
^ Sprache. Auch hier musste das Französische als of-
fizielle Sprache mit Zwang durchgesetzt werden. Dobler
fracht deutlich, wie sehr der - letztlich erfolgreiche -
frmfluss des Nationalstaates zu einem neuen Empfin-
fi£n der Gemeinschaft auf Ouessant geführt hat. Kleine
reiheiten - es gibt keine Gendarmen auf der Insel,
und für die Kraftfahrzeuge ist kein TÜV erforderlich
dienen den Inselbürgern als Manifestation der Un-
frrschiede gegenüber dem Festland. Wenigstens gleich
*fr°ße Bedeutung in der Konstitution dieser “lokalen
^uhur” hat der seit den 1970er Jahren zunehmende
°arisrnus. Touristen bringen neue Lebensformen auf
*e Insel, ermöglichen neue wirtschaftliche Aktivitäten
Zarnnierverrnietung) und führen zu einer neuen Wahr-
®hrnung des Eigenen (die schöne Landschaft, die Ar-
frektur ...). Trotz Fernsehen und Telekommunikation
de*mt offensichtlich die Bedeutung des “Lokalen” in
r Gegenwart weiter zu. Wie noch näher zu erläutern
sein
wird, wird das “Lokale” gerade im Kontext der
rnung der Gesellschaft immer wichtiger.
_ Wie kommen die Menschen auf Ouessant zu den
j tern, mit denen sie täglich umgehen? Dieser Frage
ünt*er dritte Teil des Buches gewidmet, und Dobler
erscheidet dabei drei Formen; zunächst das Sam-
s 6 n’ das im Hinblick auf Strandgut eine große Rolle
Sehr ’ ^ann Wiederverwertung und Improvisation und
q leßlich den Handel. Händler und Kaufläden gab es in
Soressant bereits im 19. Jh. Der Wohlstand der Händler
§fr dafür, dass ihnen nicht ohne Misstrauen begegnet
6 nennt die wenigen Händler aus jener
W namentfrch und kann für einige Läden sogar deren
ntar anführen. Bis in die Gegenwart hinein zeichnet
Vhr°Pos 101.2006
er den Anstieg der Ladengeschäfte und den Konzentrati-
onsprozess nach. Auch heute gibt es auf Ouessant keine
großen Supermärkte; und die Ladenbesitzer als “öffent-
liche” Personen kennen ihre regelmäßigen Kunden. Aus
der Sicht der Kunden beurteilt man kritisch die Vorzüge
und Nachteile der Läden. Für größere Einkäufe wartet
man die Gelegenheit einer Festlandsreise ab oder bestellt
über Warenkataloge, die für die Güterbeschaffung heute
eine große Rolle spielen. Für Doblers Argumentation
sind die sozialen Unterschiede zwischen Händlern und
den anderen wichtiger als deren wirtschaftlicher Erfolg.
Der darauffolgende vierte Teil über die “Veränderun-
gen im Dinggebrauch” ist nicht nur der längste der fünf
Teile des Buches sondern im Hinblick auf dessen Titel
auch der wichtigste. Dobler wählt fünf Gegenstandsbe-
reiche aus: Häuser und ihr Mobiliar, Hausgeräte, Trach-
ten, das Fernsehen und schließlich die Mauern aus Feld-
steinen. Obwohl er aus dem betrachteten Zeitraum eine
ganze Reihe von Inventaren ausfindig gemacht hat, hebt
er in einer methodisch orientierten Kritik die Probleme
dieser Quelle hervor: Viele Objekte wurden uneinheit-
lich benannt, manche wurden, weil sie ganz alltäglich
waren, überhaupt nicht erwähnt. Im Hinblick auf die
Veränderung der Häuser und deren Mobiliar interpretiert
Dobler die “Verdinglichung des Wohnens” (292) als ein
Resultat der auch im Alltag wichtiger werdenden Ästhe-
tik. Herrschten im frühen 19. Jh. noch Dunkelheit und
Schmutz in den Häusern auf der Insel vor, so wurde im
Laufe der Zeit das Wohnen immer mehr als ästhetische
Praxis entdeckt. Die Fenster wurden größer, Holzdielen
ersetzten die oftmals feuchten Lehmböden und anstelle
der alten, stickigen Schrankbetten verwendete man Ei-
senbetten. Hier verändern sich zwei Aspekte zugleich:
Das Mobiliar und die Wahrnehmung der Dinge.
Die Zunahme der Güter in den Häusern führt Do-
bler auf zwei Faktoren zurück: Zum einen gibt es eine
zunehmende Standardisierung, die immer mehr speziali-
siertes Hausgerät sinnvoll erscheinen lässt. Zum anderen
vermehren sich die Dinge, weil sie als Zeichenträger
verwendet werden. Als Beispiel dafür führt Dobler die
Bilder an, die nicht gebraucht werden und deren Bedeu-
tung lediglich in ihrem Verweis auf eine Person oder ein
Ereignis liegt. Dobler entwirft eine analytische Skala,
an deren Enden der Gebrauchs- bzw. der Zeichenwert
liegen. Dinge, deren Existenz auf ihrem Zeichenwert
beruht, können sich demnach weitgehend unbegrenzt
vermehren. Doblers Begründung der “Güterexpansion”
enthält somit Parallelen zu Gottfried Korffs Konzept der
“weichen Sachstrukturen”, demzufolge in Gesellschaf-
ten des Massenkonsums die unendlich vielen Varianten
der Alltagsdinge zur Identitätsbildung gebraucht wer-
den.
Auf Doblers Skala zwischen Zeichen- und Ge-
brauchswert ziemlich nah am Pol des Zeichenwerts ist
die Tracht zu verorten, deren historischen Wandel Dob-
ler sorgfältig nachzeichnet. Wie auch die Veränderungen
und die Varianten der Tracht auf Ouessant zeigen, ist
Tracht niemals das unveränderliche Objekt, für das es
zumeist gehalten wird. Tracht ist besser zu erklären im
Sinne der Definition von Mode nach Georg Simmel: Sie
266
Rezensionen
ist Ausdruck der Zugehörigkeit zu einer Gruppe und
auch der Abgrenzung. Dass man die lokale Tracht heu-
te nur noch aufgrund ihres Zeichenwerts schätzt, wird
dadurch offensichtlich, dass es zwar Bilder von Frauen
in lokaler Tracht gibt, dass sie aber nicht mehr getragen
wird. Dobler führt dafür auch pragmatische Gründe an:
Seiner Auffassung zufolge gilt die Tracht in Ouessant
heute als unpraktisch, unästhetisch und unmodern. Die
vom Autor vertretene These der Abgrenzung gegenüber
anderer Kleidung und gegenüber den Frauen der Händ-
ler ist zweifellos richtig. Abgrenzung und Nachahmung
sind nach Simmel jedoch keine unüberwindbaren Wi-
dersprüche, sondern können ineinander übergehen. Die
Dialektik dieser beiden Umgangsweisen gilt auch für
andere Innovationen: Welche von ihnen angemessen ist
und welche in den Augen der Inselbewohner als unan-
gebracht gilt, kann sich innerhalb kurzer Zeit ändern.
Die Probleme der Semiotisierung des Alltags macht
Dobler anhand von zwei Objektbereichen deutlich: Zum
einen handelt es sich um den Fernseher, dessen große
Bedeutung auf Ouessant mit Bedauern eingestanden
wird, da die negativen Folgen für alle offensichtlich
sind. Einerseits verbreiteten sich Fernseher nach 1960
schnell auf der Insel, da niemand auf dieses Zeichen der
Modernität verzichten wollte, andererseits heben Do-
blers Informanten hervor, wie sehr nachbarschaftliche
Begegnungen und Geselligkeit dadurch abgenommen
haben.
Überraschenderweise illustriert auch die im darauf-
folgenden Kapitel erläuterte Geschichte der Feldstein-
mauern die Ambivalenz bedeutungsgeladener Dinge.
Nachdem nämlich zur selben Zeit wie der Fernseher
auch die Zementmauem wegen ihrer praktischen Vor-
teile eine rasche Verbreitung fanden, wurde diese neue
Architektur durch einen Bebauungsplan im Jahr 1969
verboten. Dieses Verbot begründete sich explizit durch
die Perspektive des Tourismus. Wünsche und Sichtwei-
sen der Touristen entschieden über das Landschaftsbild.
Heute haben die Bewohner diese Sicht akzeptiert und
verstehen Feldsteinmauern als Ausdruck lokaler Iden-
tität. Nur einer Fußnote ist zu entnehmen, dass diese
Modernisierung und die Optimierung im Sinne der Tou-
risten doch eine massive materielle Veränderung mit sich
brachte. Die Mauern werden heute mit einem Betonkem
und einer Sichtschicht aus Steinen errichtet (381).
Der Schlussteil knüpft an die im einleitenden Teil
formulierte Fragestellung und an den Titel des Buches
an. Es geht also darum, wie weit Bedürfnisse den be-
obachteten Wandel im Umgang mit Dingen erklären
können. Dobler geht im Gegensatz zur klassischen Öko-
nomie nicht davon aus, dass die Güterexpansion ge-
wissermaßen “automatisch” vor sich gehe. Gestützt auf
Sahlins und Spittler, sieht er vielmehr die Notwendigkeit
einer expliziten Erklärung immer dann, wenn die Bereit-
schaft zur Innovation und zur Ausweitung des Sachbesit-
zes zu beobachten ist. Drei Bedingungen müssen dafür
erfüllt sein: Erstens müssen die neuen Dinge bekannt
sein; zweitens müssen die ökonomischen Voraussetzun-
gen für den zusätzlichen Konsum vorhanden sein; drit-
tens muss es subjektive Motive, also ein persönliches
Interesse daran geben (422). Im Überblick über die
Konsumgeschichte der letzten zweihundert Jahre auf
Ouessant sieht Dobler diese Bedingungen insbesonde-
re in zwei Perioden rascher und intensiver Innovation
gegeben. Dabei handelt es sich um die Zeit um 1860
und dann wieder die Jahre nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg
bis etwa 1960. Beide Perioden sind auch Momente der
Innovation in Frankreich. In Ouessant wurden die neuen
Güter im Vergleich zu ländlichen Gebieten des Festlands
eher früher aufgegriffen, da durch die Seefahrt nicht
nur gute ökonomische Bedingungen herrschten, sondern
auch eine größere Kenntnis über Neuerungen vorhanden
war. Dennoch bleibt die Frage nach der dritten Be-
dingung offen: Was waren die subjektiven Motive, in
dieser Zeit die neuen Güter zu erwerben und das Alte
für “rückständig” zu erklären?
Weder ein vermeintlich objektiver Bedürfnisbegriff
noch die Statuskonzepte im Sinne Veblens oder Bour-
dieus können die Motive klären. Jede Kritik am neuen
Konsum im Sinne falscher Bedürfnisse muss an der
Tatsache des subjektiven Interesses scheitern. Die Rede
von falschen Bedürfnissen reflektiert deshalb eine Au-
ßenperspektive und meint eigentlich eine Kritik an der
Gesellschaft. Bedürfnisse aus lokaler Sicht sind ungleich
schwerer festzustellen und wurden gerade von Ethnolo-
gen allzuoft übersehen. Aber nur ein solcher emischer
Bedürfnisbegriff kann ethnographisch nützlich sein. So
kann der Konsum wie auch die Steigerung des Konsums
in einer Gesellschaft, die sich selbst als Konsumgesell'
schaft versteht, nicht auf falschen Bedürfnissen beruhen-
Auch dort, wo aus lokaler Sicht Unbehagen am Konsum
geäußert wird (in Ouessant bezüglich des Fernsehkon-
sums), ist es doch eine Abwägung der Menschen selbst,
den Fernsehkonsum ihren Bedürfnissen entsprechend zu
gestalten. Das gleiche gilt für den Umgang mit den
lokalen Gütern. Was als “rückständig” gilt und was
als geschätzte “Tradition”, legen die Menschen ihren
Bedürfnissen entsprechend selbst fest. Modernität be-
deutet hier, eigene Traditionen aufzugreifen und neu rnh
Bedeutung zu füllen.
Dobler bringt seine Studie damit zu einem etwas
paradoxen Ergebnis: Den im Titel genannten Begrm
der “Bedürfnisse” dekonstruiert er oder begrenzt ihn
auf Kontexte, in denen Bedürfnisse aus emischer Sioh1
artikuliert werden. Die Tatsache, daß in der lokale
Gesellschaft bestimmte Dinge als Bedürfnis artikulier
werden, ist somit die Basis, um diesen Begriff in del
Ethnologie überhaupt zu verwenden. Diese Eingrenzung
des Bedürfnisbegriffs ist gerade deshalb plausibel, da
er abschließend in einer methodenorientierten Wendung
hervorhebt, wie die historische Untersuchung ihm zu d£l
Einsicht in die Bedingtheit der Bedürfnisse überhaup
geführt hat. Auch wenn seine Studie also in erster Lin1^
als eine Kritik zu lesen ist - nämlich in Bezug a
den Begriff des Bedürfnisses -, gelingt es ihm doc
seine Beobachtungen in überzeugender Weise mit def
theoretischen Debatte zu diesem Begriff zu verknüpf611,
Hans P. Habt1
Anthropos 101-20^
Rezensionen
267
Endeley, Joyce, Shirley Ardener, Richard Good-
ridge, and Nalova Lyonga (eds.): New Gender Studies
frorn Cameroon and the Caribbean. Buea: Women and
Gender Studies Department, University of Buea, 2004.
165 pp. ISBN 0-954538-46-3. (Issues in Gender and
Development, 1) Price; $24.95
Vorliegende Aufsatzsammlung versteht sich als der
erste Band einer Reihe, die das Department of Women
and Gender Studies der University of Buea, Cameroon,
herauszugeben plant. Der Veröffentlichung dieses ersten
Bandes gingen zwei vom Department of Wo men and
Gender Studies organisierte Workshops voraus, die vom
British Council in Zusammenarbeit mit dem Interna-
honal Gender Studies Centre der University of Ox-
ford finanziert wurden. Die Workshops brachten Mit-
arbeiter und Studierende von Universitäten mit lokalen
hlGOs und unterschiedlichen kirchlichen Organisationen
an einen Tisch, um Probleme der Entwicklung, der Ar-
^utsbekämpfung und insbesondere der benachteiligten
Situation der Frauen allgemeinverständlich zu diskutie-
ren. Die Beiträge zum zweiten Workshop wurden in
B°rm dieses Bandes veröffentlicht. Die vier Herausge-
her/innen des Bandes bringen hier immerhin Wissen-
schaftler aus drei Kontinenten zusammen: Afrika, Ame-
und Europa. Zwei der Herausgeber/innen (Joyce
Rudeley und Nalova Lyonga) arbeiten am Department
®f Women and Gender Studies der Universität Buea;
R^hard Goodridge ist Historiker an der University of
the West Indies und befasst sich mit afrikanischer und
^¡bischer Geschichte. Shirley Ardener gründete das
an die University of Oxford angegliederte Internation-
al Gender Studies Centre und ist weithin bekannt für
are langjährigen Arbeiten über das anglophone Kame-
ruu. Neben den Beiträgen der Herausgeber/innen enthält
er Band Aufsätze von kamerunischen Wissenschaft-
ern der Universitäten von Buea (Charles Fonchingong,
otsmart Fonjong, Victor Cheo, Sandra Happi) und
aounde (Daniel Akwa), der Nigerian University of
pSukka (Nkoli N. Ezumah), des Leiters (Moderator) der
A'esbyterianischen Kirche von Kamerun (Nyansako-Ni-
. Ru), der University of Georgia (Greg Fonsah) und der
ulversity of the West Indies (V. Eudine Barriteau).
Der Band besteht aus drei Teilen, die das Thema
lnsgesamt neun Beiträgen bearbeiten. Teil I bilden
Avei
* einleitende und allgemeine Kapitel zu den Themen
v R'uUbekämpfung in Kamerun und den Bemühungen
k°u Kirchen und NGOs, dieses Ziel zu erreichen. Teil II
s asst sich in zwei Beiträgen damit, wie sich die Lehren
Zifi scher religiöser Institutionen der Frage des “Em-
an errnent” uncl der Armutsbekämpfung von Frauen
^nehmen. Teil III umfasst fünf Beiträge: drei zu Ka-
Vrb)Ün Un^ ZWe^ ZU Barbados. Es werden die konkreten
^^Bedingungen von Frauen an der Universität Buea
ln den Bananenplantagen von CDC/Del Monte in
st 0 s°wie männliches Rollenverhalten in der Groß-
^rb ■^>Ua^a analysiert. Für Barbados geht es um die
UncL^^diuSuuS611 von Frauen im öffentlichen Sektor
194Q11 §ewerkschaftlichen Organisationen zwischen den
rü er und den 1970er Jahren sowie um die Verände-
rn im postkolonialen modernen karibischen Staat.
Was Kamerun betrifft, so die Autoren in Teil I und II,
hat die Kolonialzeit mit ihrem Erziehungssystem und
der Mission, die mit ihrer viktorianischen Weltanschau-
ung Frauen in bessere Ehefrauen verwandeln wollten,
wesentlich zur Feminisierung der Armut und Diskri-
minierung von Frauen beigetragen, u. a. dadurch, dass
Männern der Anbau von Cash Crops beigebracht wurde,
nicht aber Frauen. Mit der Lohnarbeit in der Stadt nimmt
heute die Tendenz zu, dass Frauen zu Hausfrauen und
vom Einkommen ihrer Männer abhängig werden. Die
Autor/innen messen Armut in Kamerun vornehmlich an
den Parametern Lebenserwartung, Einkommen und Aus-
gaben. Insbesondere im ersten Kapitel wäre es nützlich
gewesen, die Hintergründe des statistischen Zahlenmate-
rials ein wenig zu hinterfragen. Wer hat sie erstellt, wozu
und mit welchem Ziel? Sind die Weltbankstatistiken di-
rekt vergleichbar mit den Statistiken der kamerunischen
Ministerien? Es wird zwar gelegentlich erwähnt, dass
nicht alle Kameruner gleich arm seien, die Aussagen der
Autor/innen würden jedoch um einiges präziser, wenn
diese anhand konkreter Beispiele formuliert und dies
konsequent durchgehalten würde. Viele junge Männer
sind ja wesentlich ärmer als zumindest einige Frau-
en mittleren und höheren Alters. Gewinnen würde die
Diskussion sehr, wenn stärker zwischen den einzelnen
Regionen, zwischen Stadt und Land, Angestellten mit
Familie, Händlern und Bauern, oder auch zwischen den
Generationen unterschieden würde. Wünschen würde
man sich auch, dass die Aussagen der Statistiken mehr
mit dem eigenen Wissen und der eigenen gelebten Er-
fahrung verglichen würden.
In Kapitel 2 betrachten Ardener und Fonjong auf
wesentlich soliderem Boden von einem kamerunischen
Blickwinkel aus internationale NGOs und geben einen
Überblick darüber, woher das Geld kommt, das solche
Organisationen, die vor allem aus nichtafrikanischen
Ländern stammen, in Kamerun zu verteilen haben. Die
Autor/innen zeigen auf, wie Regierungen und Eliten es
so verwenden, dass es den Armen letztlich wenig hilft
(17-21), denn die Armen bräuchten Straßen, sauberes
Wasser und gute Schulen, nicht große Häuser und
Paläste. Man ist versucht, anzufügen, dass es oft gerade
diese Armen selbst sind, die von ihren Eliten erwarten,
dass sie als erstes ein großes Haus im Dorf bauen
(wie Olivier de Sardan in einem Beitrag im Journal of
Modern African Studies 1999 gezeigt hat).
Kapitel 3 und 4 befassen sich mit der Frage des “Em-
powerment” von Frauen aus der Perspektive religiöser
Lehren in Kamerun. Dies ist ein spannendes Thema,
da “Empowerment” und Kirche auf den ersten Blick
nicht zusammenzupassen scheinen. Hier wird hervorge-
hoben, dass es vor allem “traditional customs” seien, die
Frauen behinderten (32). Diskutiert werden weniger die
Veränderungen und Kontinuitäten von traditionellen, ko-
lonialen und jetzigen Arbeitsbedingungen und die Frage,
ob Frauen vorkolonial mehr Macht hatten als heute
(wie dies schon Ifi Amadiume für Nigeria dargestellt
hatte) oder warum genau “traditional customs” heute
hinderlich seien, sondern die Erfolge von Kirchen in
der Armutsverringerung durch ländliche Trainingssemi-
Anth:
roPos 101.2006
268
Rezensionen
nare. Des Weiteren plädieren die Autor/innen dafür, dass
Frauen, da sie in der Mehrheit sind, die Chance ergreifen
sollten, die Institution der Kirche als Katalysator gesell-
schaftlicher Veränderungen zu nutzen. Gewünscht hätte
man sich, dass nicht nur von Armut gesprochen wird,
sondern auch einmal von Reichtum, zumindest davon,
wie sich Armut und Reichtum zueinander verhalten,
dass also die Inhalte dieser Diskussion als Diskurse
über Armut und Reichtum dargestellt würden. Offen
bleibt, ob dies nun letztlich ein Plädoyer dafür ist, das
Abhängigkeitssyndrom (41) abzubauen und “Selfem-
ployment” (40) zu fördern, oder ob einfach der Staat
mehr für die Frauen tun soll? Als Grundtenor scheint
das Buch die Forderung nach Gleichberechtigung von
Frauen und Männern zu durchziehen, das westliche Mo-
dell sozusagen, das im Gegensatz zu der Forderung der
Frauen auf der Frauenkonferenz in Kairo steht, auf der
afrikanische Frauen für ein komplementäres Modell der
Rollen von Frauen und Männern in der Gesellschaft
eintraten.
Der Band richtet sich nicht nur an eine kamerunische
und karibische Leserschaft, sondern möchte eine weitere
afrikanische Leserschaft erreichen, darunter auch die
afrikanische Diaspora. Darüber hinaus richtet er sich
vielleicht weniger an ein eingefleischtes wissenschaft-
liches Publikum, sondern vor allem auch an Vertreter
internationaler NGOs und Kirchen. In der Tat liest sich
der Band streckenweise wie ein Appell gegen die Un-
gerechtigkeit, ein Aufruf an die kamerunische Regie-
rung und ihr Ministerium für Frauenangelegenheiten,
mehr Programme zur Verbesserung der Lebenssituation
von Frauen einzuführen, Arbeitszeiten von Frauen zu
verkürzen, den Ertrag der Arbeit und die Anzahl der
gewerblichen Arbeitsmöglichkeiten zu vergrößern, und
alles in allem doch endlich “good governance” zu üben.
Insgesamt ruft der Band mehr zur Solidarität auf, und
dazu, nach praktischen Lösungen und Mitteln zu suchen,
als dass eine Reflektion entfaltet würde, wie das Wissen
und die Fakten, auf denen die Diskurse, die er beinhaltet,
zustande gekommen sind. Das ist angesichts der real
wahrgenommenen Armut in Kamerun nicht weiter ver-
wunderlich. Nichtsdestotrotz wird dies erkannt und die
Frage aufgeworfen: Wie soll das Department of Women
and Gender Studies es angehen, Akademia und Aktivis-
mus zu überbrücken? Die etwas unorthodoxe Buntheit
des Bandes eingeschlossen, ist der Band zur Lektüre
zu empfehlen, weil er eine Sicht auf die Produktion
von Wissen(schaft) in einem Land vermittelt, in dem
man sich nicht in jedem Fall mit gefülltem Magen an
den Schreibtisch setzt, geschweige denn Studierende
gesättigt die Vorlesungen besuchen. Das Problem ist
immer erstmal, die Suche nach etwas “Essbarem” (i. e.,
la politique du ventre) voranzutreiben, gar nicht in erster
Linie für sich selbst, sondern für seine ganze große
Familie. Ute Röschenthaler
Fikentscher, Wolfgang: Culture, Law, and Eco-
nomics. Three Berkeley Lectures. Bern: Stämpfli Ver-
lag; Durham; Carolina University Press, 2004. 335 pp.
ISBN 3-7272-9880-4; ISBN 1-59460-076-7. (Münchner
Schriften zum Europäischen und Internationalen Kartell-
recht, 6) Price: sfr 69.00; $ 65.00
Zumindest in der historischen Anthropologie war
seit der symbolistischen Wende Wirtschaftsanthropolo-
gie kein Thema mehr. Das mag sich in der Ethnologie
anders verhalten, aber eine anthropologische Untersu-
chung der westlichen Marktwirtschaft als einer histo-
risch entstandenen menschlichen Wirtschaftsweise unter
anderen war aus beiden Richtungen nicht zu erwarten-
Denn diese verstand und versteht sich als universal
und hat dank ihrer globalen Dominanz auf den ersten
Blick mehr denn je auch allen Grund dazu. Doch die
bedenklichen Folgen eben dieser Dominanz veranlass-
ten den bekannten Münchner Juristen und Anthropo-
logen Fikentscher zu seinem kritischen wirtschaftsan-
thropologischen Vorstoß, zuerst 1998/99 in drei Vor-
lesungen, dann, weiter ausgearbeitet, zu vorliegendem
Buch. Dabei leitet ihn die praktische Absicht, als Kar-
tellrechtler zu internationalen Regelungen beizutragen,
die nicht nur einen demokratischen Rechtsstaat sichern
sollen, sondern vor allem eine zwar freie, aber öko-
logisch, sozial und kulturell sensibilisierte Marktwirt-
schaft, die außerdem gelernt hat, die nicht oder nur
partiell vermarktbaren Gemeinschaftsgüter zu respektie-
ren.
Fikentscher ist kein Globalisierungskritiker von links,
sondern versucht, durchaus im Sinne eines richtig ver-
standenen Adam Smith, vor allem aber des Ordolibera-
lismus der seinerzeitigen Freiburger Schule der Natio-
nalökonomie, eine weltweite soziale Marktwirtschaft auf
kulturanthropologischer Grundlage zu entwerfen. Denn
weil Freiheit stets die Möglichkeit zu ihrer eigenen
Aufhebung in sich enthält, im Falle der wirtschaftli-
chen Freiheit durch Erringen der Marktbeherrschung,
kann sie nicht auf totale Deregulierung hinauslaufen,
sondern bedarf im Gegenteil der rechtlichen Regulierung
nicht zuletzt zur Sicherung des Wettbewerbs. Dieser aUe
Grundgedanke wird aber in dreifacher Hinsicht innova-
tiv untermauert und entfaltet, mittels einer Theorie deI
Gemeinschaftsgüter (Dienstleistungen, natürliche ReS'
sourcen, Umwelt einschließlich Weltraum), mittels eine1
Theorie des subjektiven Markts, auf dem im Gegensatz
zum objektiven echter Wettbewerb herrscht (eine L:n'
terscheidung, die Fikentscher seit 1957 zusammen nU
dem Ökonom Knut Borchardt propagiert), und mittet
Heranziehung der Kulturanthropologie. Fikentscher ist
auf diesem Feld nicht nur überaus belesen, sondern ha1
persönlich ausgedehnte Feldforschung bei nordamerika
nischen Indianervölkern und taiwanesischen Ureinwoh
nern betrieben.
Im ersten Teil des Buches entfaltet er die Möglich^1
ten einer Kulturanthropologie der Wirtschaft und biete
einen Abriss anthropologischer Wirtschaftsgeschichte-
Im zweiten legt er dar, dass der kreditorientierte sU
jektive Markt nur eine von mehreren Marktformen lS'
die in der Geschichte auftraten und noch heute exish6
ren. Im dritten folgt die Erörterung des Umgangs m
Gemeinschaftsgütern, gefolgt von einem wirtschaltsa11
thropologischen Überblick über die großen Weltkuh11
Anthropos 101-200
Rezensionen
269
ren. Denn es geht Fikentscher nicht oder nicht nur
um den “romantischen” Schutz übrig gebliebener öko-
nomischer Randgruppen, sondern vor allem um jene
großen Teile der Menschheit, die trotz Einbeziehung in
die westliche Globalwirtschaft deren Wirtschaftskultur
keineswegs vollständig teilen. Im vierten Teil zieht er
dann mit seiner Kritik an der Welthandelsorganisation
und anderen internationalen Einrichtungen und seinen
Vorschlägen für ein besseres internationales Wirtschafts-
und Kartellrecht daraus die Konsequenzen. Denn die
erstrebte Garantie eines nicht nur freien, sondern auch
fairen Wettbewerbs ist für ihn nur möglich mit kul-
turellem Respekt vor nichtwestlicher Wirtschaftsgesin-
uung. Zu den weltweit durchzusetzenden wirtschaftli-
chen Menschenrechten gehört ein Recht auf die eigene
Gesinnung, nach dem alten Rechtsgrundsatz des habeas
c°rpus ein neuer habeas meutern, was übrigens nicht auf
die Wirtschaft zu beschränken wäre.
Der Autor argumentiert überzeugend und transpa-
rent, nicht zuletzt dank guter Organisation des Textes,
freilich nicht ohne eine gewisse Redundanz. Außerdem
Wlrd man ihm nicht in jedem Detail folgen wollen,
^urn Beispiel möchte ich bezweifeln, dass die aktuelle
. Mode” des Selbstmordattentats ein japanischer Import
ln den Islam darstellt, wie pp. 214 und 224 behauptet
sondern lieber genuin islamische Quellen aufsu-
chen. Dergleichen Quisquilien ändern aber nichts am
guten Eindruck eines sympathischen Buches, dem man
v°r allem praktischen Erfolg durch Beeinflussung des
'uternationalen Wettbewerbs wünschen möchte.
Wolfgang Reinhard
Rinlayson, Clive: Neanderthals and Modern Hu-
q ns- An Ecological and Evolutionary Perspective.
Iridge; Cambridge University Press, 2004. 255 pp.
a ^ 0-521-82087-1. (Cambridge Studies in Biological
11 Evolutionary Anthropology, 38) Price: £ 60.00
£ The Neanderthals, who colonised much of southern
. rope for a long period in the Pleistocene, only becom-
§ extinct around 30 kyr ago, have generally had a bad
Ss- They are usually characterised as less intelligent
modem humans, probably lacking more than a
language, lacking the general symbolic abilities of
left 6rn ^Umans’ and adapted for cold conditions that
them outclassed and outcompeted after the last ice
Much of this view is questioned in Finlayson’s
e-ranging and challenging book,
di .‘ayson draws together a wide range of evidence -
to atlC’ ec°logical, evolutionary, bio-behavioural, and
haDa leSSer extent genetic - in his analysis of what
eXti ene<^ to fr*e Neanderthals and why they became
of whereas modern humans did not. The synthesis
the 6rent Perspectives pays dividends, and in general
tertia?Count provided is persuasive and should provide a
is * ate ** future research and writing on the topic. It
on the description and analysis of climatic
throu^?ns’ with detailed diagrams of climatic changes
aUd fte Pleistocene and their likely impact on flora
auna, and hence on hominids.
Finlayson basically argues that the changes seen
in hominid populations are based on ecological and
climatic factors (rather than, say, direct competition).
He envisages a succession of waves of emigration from
Africa, as climatic conditions allowed access to the
mid-latitude belt - the Mediterranean area and Middle
East stretching to the Himalayas - where there were
heterogeneous, species-rich landscapes during much of
the period. Fluctuating cold or warm conditions saw
contraction of such populations to southern refugia (e.g.,
in southern Spain), or expansion to more northern areas
of Europe and Asia.
Modern humans are seen as the last of such expan-
sions from Africa. By this time, perhaps c. 100 kyr ago,
Neanderthal populations had long been established in the
mid-latitude belt. Finlayson sees the modern human pop-
ulations becoming adapted to more peripheral environ-
ments, somewhat colder, steppe-type environments with
more dispersed and less predictable flora and fauna. The
challenge of such environments produced behavioural
and physiological adaptations, including larger home
ranges and group sizes. These adaptations produced
more resilience and adaptability for varied environments
and colder environments.
The extinction of the Neanderthals is, thus, mainly
related to climate change, in Finlayson’s analysis. Rather
than being cold-adapted, they are actually seen as less
resilient to cold environments. First moving to southern
refugia as conditions get colder, they become extinct
around 40-30 kyr ago; the modern humans also move
south as the ice advances but cope better in these
conditions, and survive.
Why did modem humans cope better? Here, there
is scope for developing (or analysing more thoroughly)
Finlayson’s arguments. Generally, he downplays differ-
ences between Neanderthals and modern humans. He
sees both as intelligent, symbolic creatures, perhaps sub-
species rather than different species, part of a patchwork
of hominid variation during the Pleistocene at different
times and in different areas. Neanderthals are described
as “not cognitively inferior to Moderns” (207). But,
the modern human adaptation includes “development of
the neocortex” that “provided the necessary hardware
for dealing with the complex interactions within the
group” (206) - which sounds like social intelligence!
In fact, Finlayson sees the changes in the Upper Paleo-
lithic as being more social than cognitive; but, social
changes can impact on cognitive changes, as the work on
Machiavellian intelligence in primates and humans has
demonstrated. There is certainly scope for more analysis
of differences between Neanderthals and Moderns on
cognitive and symbolic capacities, even if Finlayson is
right that much of the difference (and the Neanderthal
extinction) is based on local behavioural responses to
climate and ecology.
Did modern humans have a direct role in Nean-
derthal extinction? Clear evidence is lacking, but the two
groups did coexist in various areas for some thousands
of years. Finlayson believes that if there was direct
competition, it was only a small part of a multitude of
Anth,
roP°S 101.2006
270
Rezensionen
causes for extinction, primarily driven by climate and
adaptation. He draws an interesting parallel with the
historical situation in Greenland in the “Little Ice Age,”
when the local Inuit survived but the Norse colonis-
ers perished by the fifteenth century. Finlayson states
that “There is no evidence of direct competition nor
is it suggested as a possible factor in the ‘extinction’
of the Norsemen” (153). This could be questioned.
The consensus is that climatic changes plus ideological
rigidity sealed the fate of the Norse Greenlanders, but
relations with the “Skraelings” (Inuit) are described as
sometimes friendly, sometimes hostile; there were some
accounts of attacks (even if uncorroborated), and some
Norse skeletal remains show signs of attack (though
this could be from other Norsemen). The comparison
with Neanderthals and Moderns is definitely an in-
teresting one, however. There would almost certain-
ly be other human (and nonhuman) parallels to ex-
plore.
Overall, as a behavioural scientist and developmental
psychologist, I found this a fascinating book to read,
almost like a detective story as various strands of evi-
dence are assembled and combined. However, I would
have appreciated a table reminding us of the main time
periods, for example for the LGM (last glacial max-
imum) and OIS (oxygen isotope stages). Some terms
such as “vagile,” “Neogene,” and “parapatric” were not
familiar to me and a short glossary would have helped.
Some of the graphs and diagrams would have benefited
from more explanation for the “not-totally-expert” read-
er. These are relatively minor points. Overall, Finlayson
is to be congratulated for a compelling work of synthesis
which, while itself open to challenge in various areas,
should move forward the debate on Neanderthals to a
higher level of multidisciplinary analysis.
Peter K. Smith
Fischer, Steven Roger: A History of the Pacific
Islands. Houndmills: Palgrave, 2002. 304 pp. ISBN 0-
333-94976-5. Price: £ 14.99
In einer Zeit zunehmenden Spezialistentums auch in
den kulturwissenschaftlichen Fächern gehört viel Mut
dazu, die große Synthese zu wagen und dem Uneinge-
weihten im Alleingang ein Sachgebiet aufzuschlüsseln,
das sich sonst Gelehrte verschiedener Richtungen unter-
einander aufteilen. Das Verlagshaus Palgrave Macmillan
hat sich gerade dies, die großen Synthesen, zum Ziel
gesetzt und entsprechend führt es die Serie “Palgrave
Essential Histories”, in die Fischers Buch aufgenom-
men wurde, mit folgenden Worten ein: “This series of
compact, readable, and informative histories is designed
to appeal to anyone wishing to gain a broad under-
standing of a country’s history - whether they are a
student, a traveller, a professional, or a general read-
er” (iv). Damit ist der Anspruch verbunden, am Anfang
des dritten Jahrtausends eine moderne Sicht der Dinge
zu vermitteln. In Bezug auf die pazifische Geschichte
bedeutet das beispielsweise; Auch die Stimme der Ein-
heimischen, die, mit ausgebildeten Fachwissenschaftlern
in ihren Reihen, die europäische Interpretationshoheit
zurückweisen, soll gehört werden.
Dem Autor gelingt eine über weite Strecken über-
zeugende Umsetzung der Vorgaben des Verlagspro-
gramms. Er spannt einen erstaunlich weiten Bogen vom
Jungpaläolithikum über die Lapita-Zeit und die voreu-
ropäische Geschichte Ozeaniens bis hin zur Kolonialzeit
und ihren Folgen. Er stellt dar, wie in einer Zeit der mo-
dernen Diaspora, in der oft weitaus mehr Einheimische
in Australien, Neuseeland und den Vereinigten Staaten
von Nordamerika leben als auf ihren Herkunftsinseln,
Identität neu bestimmt werden muss und auf welche
Weise “Pacific Isländers” als Soldaten, Sportler, Poli-
tiker, Aufständische, Pastoren und Bergwerksarbeiter in
das Gefüge neuer politischer Identitäten eingebunden
sind, das sich nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg herauszu-
bilden begann. Auch der Gender-Aspekt kommt nicht
zu kurz.
Man findet in “A History of the Pacific Islands’
Dinge, die man sonst in dieser Knappheit nicht findet,
und man findet sehr viel in diesem Buch, das, gemessen
an der Vielfalt und Fülle des Stoffes, einen eher ge-
ringen Umfang hat. Der Leserschaft, die der Verlag als
Zielgruppe avisiert, ist mit dieser Bündigkeit durchaus
gedient und auch Fachleute, die nicht auf pazifische
Geschichte und Ethnographie spezialisiert sind, werden
das Buch mit Gewinn lesen. Angesichts des Verhältnis-
ses von Stoff-Fülle und Umfang kann es jedoch nicht
ausbleiben, dass diese Form der Geschichtsschreibung
mit manchen Ungenauigkeiten im Detail erkauft werden
muss. So ist das samoanische System der Königsnamen
und Königstitel viel komplizierter, als der Verfasser es
darstellt (143). Es wäre jedoch beckmesserisch, sich tn
der Rezension eines solchen Buches auf dergleichen
zu kaprizieren, solange die große Linie nicht Schaden
nimmt und die Darstellung wirklich ist, was sie zu sein
beabsichtigt: modern. Fehler werden erst dann wirklich
zu einem Problem, wenn sie dem Ziel entgegenwirkem
ein zeitgemäßes Bild der “Pacific Isländers” zu zeich-
nen. Hier zeigt es sich, dass der Autor nicht imm£l
auf der Höhe der Zeit ist, was die ethnographische D1'
mension der Darstellung angeht. Die Aneinanderreihung
von Klischees im Unterkapitel “Regional Characteris-
tics” (41-43) ist kontraproduktiv bezüglich einer realis-
tischen Perspektive auf die Vielfalt indigener Kultur.
Ferner begegnen wir leider auch in diesem Buc
dem alten Topos der “female pollution”, der rituell11
Unreinheit der Frau (53 ff.). Die schon nicht mehr gan2
so neue Deutung des ethnographischen Befundes durc
F. Allan Hanson wird nicht erwähnt, dabei liefert s&
ein notwendiges Korrektiv zu einer Sichtweise, die eh
Kategorien des 19. Jhs. widerspiegelt als die ethnog1^
phische Realität. - Des weiteren wird wieder e^nnljjt
John Williams als “erster Missionar” Samoas vorgestc
(104). Es hätte doch nur einer Zeile bedurft, um
erwähnen, dass Williams, der nach kurzem Aufenth
weiterzog, mehrere bereits christianisierte Polyn°s .f
aus Tahiti und Aitutaki in Samoa zurückließ, die 1 ^
Recht als die “ersten Missionare Samoas” bezeichn
werden dürfen! Die Religionsethnologie hat an die Sic*
Anthropos 101-20
Rezensionen
271
eines Bildes, das die Einheimischen vorwiegend als pas-
sive Empfänger des Evangeliums zeichnete, längst die
realistische Darstellung von Inselbevölkerungen gesetzt,
die im Allgemeinen aktive Mitbetreiber des Wandels
ihrer Religion waren.
Leider muss man konstatieren, dass Fischers Reli-
gionsbegriff dem “student, traveller, Professional” den
Zugang zu dieser für ein tieferes Verständnis pazifischer
Kultur notwendigen Dimension eher versperrt als ebnet,
^ie kann man denn im Jahre 2002 noch allen Erns-
tes schreiben; “No Pacific Isländers practised any form
°f worship. Melanesian and Micronesian dévotion was
Placatory, to be manipulated by ritual; Polynesians had
Application and bargaining ri tuais. Melanesians often
Practised magic and sorcery; Micronesians also used
teagic; and Polynesians believed in trances, spirit pos-
session, and sacrifice (including human). Melanesians
tecognized sorcerers, but no specialist priesthood; Mi-
Cfonesians had shamans, diviners, médiums, and sorcer-
ers ..(43). Dergleichen Halbwahrheiten, die in ihrer
Aneinanderreihung beinahe schon die Qualität einer un-
freiwilligen Karikatur besitzen, erwartet man nicht in
einer Publikation des Jahres 2002. Dergleichen ist leider
kein Lapsus, denn später im Text (70) lesen wir wieder
^ber die Melanesier: “There was no worship”. Die Worte
rehgion” und “gods” werden bezüglich der vorchrist-
lchen Religion in distanzierende Anführungszeichen
§esetzt und überhaupt herrschten vor der Ankunft des
Christentums “superstition and sorcery” (200).
Dass in der Bibliographie immer wieder die Werke
v°n indigenen Wissenschaftlern aufgeführt werden, ist
erfreulich und entspricht den aufklärerischen Intentionen
V°n Verlag und Werk. Weniger erfreulich ist, dass
Nieder einmal fast ausschließlich anglophone Werke
§enannt werden. Darüber hinaus zähle ich vier Werke
ln französischer Sprache, aber keinen skandinavischen,
niederländischen oder österreichischen Autor, obwohl in
tesen Ländern nicht Unbedeutendes zur Ethnographie
j^nd Geschichte des Pazifik geschaffen wurde und wird.
as einzige Werk eines deutschen Autors, das genannt
^|fd, stammt von dem Historiker Hermann Joseph
tylery und ist auf englisch verfasst (“The Neglected
t ar • Honolulu 1995). So werden Palgraves “students,
t, ^elters, Professionals” vor der offenbar schröcklichen
ai Renntnis t>ewahrt, daß die Pazifik-Forschung sich auch
e- erhalb des anglophonen Sprachraums abspielt. Von
fr D*1 ^utor’ der, wie Steven Roger Fischer, lange Jahre
eutschland gelebt hat, fließend deutsch spricht und
hätt r deutschen Pazifik-Forschung nicht unvertraut ist,
p 111 an mehr erwarten dürfen,
d azit: Dieses Buch hinterlässt einen gemischten Ein-
üen ist verdienstvoll wegen des weiten Bogens,
p sPannfi es ist daher als erste Einführung in den
gu seine Geschichte und seine heutigen Probleme
jeu ®ee^net. Wegen der aufgezählten Defizite sollte es
frek r ~ etwa *n universitären Grundkursen - durch die
erg.. re s°rgfältig ausgewählter ethnographischer Werke
anzt Werden. Thomas Bargatzky
Anth
Galinier, Jacques: The World Below. Body and
Cosmos in Otomi Indian Ritual. Boulder: University
Press of Colorado, 2004. 271 pp. ISBN 0-87081-773-6.
Price: $ 34.95
Dieses Werk von Jacques Galinier, das in französi-
scher Sprache unter dem Titel “La moitié du monde”
(1985) und in spanischer Sprache unter dem Titel “La
mitad del mundo” (1990) erschienen ist, liegt nun auch
in englischer Übersetzung vor. Dieses sehr umfang-
reiche Werk, das sich in großer Ausführlichkeit einer
komplizierten Materie widmet, ist somit einem größeren
Leserkreis zugänglich.
In den ersten Kapiteln schildert Galinier die Koloni-
algeschichte in der von Otomi bewohnten abgelegenen
Region des mexikanischen Hochlandes sowie die unter-
schiedlichen Gründe, die dazu führten, dass die Otomi
Teile ihrer indianischen Traditionen bewahren konnten.
In den weiteren Kapiteln geht der Autor detailliert auf
die Rituale sowie die damit verbundene religiöse Or-
ganisation ein. In der Beschreibung eines Heilrituals
(70 f.) tritt sogleich die für die Religion und Kosmologie
der Otomi charakteristische Dualität zutage. Das Ritual
besteht aus zwei Teilen - die erste Sequenz ist an den
“Master of Evil” gerichtet, dem eine Opfergabe darge-
bracht wird, die zweite Sequenz richtet sich an die mit
sozialer Ordnung, Licht und Tag assoziierten konträren
Mächte, die heute durch katholische Heiligenfiguren
repräsentiert sind. Das indianische Konzept von einer
Zweiteilung des Kosmos und analog dazu des menschli-
chen Körpers wird in den Ritualen versinnbildlicht. Auf
diese Weise sind sowohl die regenerativen als auch die
schadensbringenden Numina von den Otomi berücksich-
tigt und in die Gestaltung ihrer sozialen Lebenswelt mit
einbezogen.
Zur Verwirklichung des Dualitätsprinzips bilden die
althergebrachte indianische und die von den Eroberern
eingeführte christliche Religion nach Auffassung von
Galinier zwei Traditionsstränge, die einander bedingen:
die christliche Tradition umfasst dabei den Bereich der
oberen Welthälfte, die indianische Religion die von der
offiziellen Kirche eher ignorierte untere Hälfte, “The
World Below”, sodass beide kosmischen Bereiche in den
religiösen Handlungen präsent sind.
Des Weiteren erläutert Galinier für die Kultur der
Otomi charakteristische Phänomene wie das Allerheili-
genfest (Todos Santos), eine Wallfahrt und den stark aus-
geprägten Karneval. Die erwähnte Kombination christ-
licher und indianischer Religion zeigt sich exemplarisch
im Karneval, der nach seinen Erhebungen in Zusam-
menhang mit dem Weihnachtsfest steht. Die Gescheh-
nisse des Karnevals dienen dazu, die zu Weihnachten
geborene Gottheit - Niño Dios, der mit der Sonne asso-
ziiert wird - einzufangen und zu töten, eine notwendige
Bedingung für Fruchtbarkeit und Wachstum der neu
ausgebrachten Saat.
Kulturwandel und damit verbundene Friktionen und
Verwerfungen in der Gesellschaft führen nach vielfach
vertretener Auffassung (u. a. von Victor Turner) zu ei-
nem Verschwinden symbolischer Handlungen und tra-
ditioneller kultureller Elemente. Im Falle der Otomi
,r°Pos 101.2006
272
Rezensionen
kommt es jedoch - wie Galinier überzeugend darlegt
- zu dem gegenteiligen Vorgang: Konflikte und soziale
Probleme finden ihren Ausdruck im Karneval, der so
nicht nur eine überraschende Resistenz, sondern auch
unerwarteten Auftrieb und Wiederbelebung erfuhr.
Die Anwesenheit eines Ethnologen gehört sicher-
lich ebenso wie die Auswirkungen eines allgemeinen
Kulturwandels zu den Herausforderungen der neueren
Zeit. In bewährter Manier haben die Otomi diese Neue-
rung in ihrer Gesellschaft im Karneval thematisiert -
ein Ereignis, durch das Jacques Galinier nach eigener
Aussage auf einen Weg geführt wurde, den die Otomi
für den richtigen halten und der die Annäherung an
eine indianische Lebensphilosophie und Kosmovision
ermöglichte. Brigitte Wiesenbauer
Gardner, Peter M.: Bicultural Versatility as a Fron-
tier Adaption among Paliyan Foragers of South India.
Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen Press, 2000. 262 pp. ISBN
0-7734-7819-1. (Studies in the History and Civilizations
of India, 2) Price: $ 109.95
South India is home to a number of foraging cultures
like Mala Pandaram, Nayaka, or Jenu Kurumba. This
monograph is about another culture in this category,
the Paliyar of Tamil Nadu. The introduction explicates
the study’s well-founded argument that the Paliyar
are neither an isolated tribe, untouched by time nor
other cultures nor are they fully assimilated into the
broader social system and Tamil culture. Instead, having
interchange and contact with outsiders for centuries,
Peter M. Gardner explicates what he calls the “bicultural
oscillation” (22) of Paliyar as a specific “mode of
adaption” (218). Particular emphasis is, thus, given not
only to the processes of enclavement into the larger
social terrain but also to the various strategies of the
Paliyar to maintain, in the face of outside pressure,
economic autonomy, and cultural integrity.
The second chapter introduces the economic strate-
gies of the Paliyar living in that “frontier zone” (24)
between forest areas and the agricultural Tamil villages.
Numbering about 3,300 people they live in 84 groups,
either in forest-based bands of 15-30 individuals or in
settlements at the forest edge. All, however, share the
pattern of oscillation between the forest, where on the
one hand they gather, hunt, and collect forest products
for sale, and on the other hand, the external economic
and social environment where they work in plantations
or the rice fields owned by Tamils.
Chapters three and four explore this topic in further
detail and show how the forest provides an economic
niche enabling the Paliyar to make a living from the
collection of forest products for subsistence or sale to
Tamil contractors but also through paid labour. He, thus,
refutes earlier arguments (R. G. Fox, Professional Prim-
itives. Hunters and Gatherers of Nuclear South Asia.
Man in India 49.1969: 139-160) about the inability of
South Indian foragers to live off the forest. At the same
time, he presents evidence how this environment and
its resources allows a considerable amount of freedom,
retreat, and avoidance of caste society and its values
of hierarchy and social interdependence. These chapters
make clear that the Paliyar are not excluded by caste
society and its values of ritual impurity but that they are
regarded as a part of the system of local economic ex-
change. Nevertheless, intimate knowledge of the forest
as a symbolic and cultural capital allows the Paliyar to
maintain their key value orientations and their particular
social fabric.
These aspects are analyzed in the next two chapters
which focus on Paliyar patterns of behaviour and so-
cial organization. Like other South Indian foragers, the
Paliyar are not organized on the level of the tribe as a
whole, neither in political terms (they have no chiefs, no
councils of elders, no headmen, etc.) nor in social terms
(they have no clan- or lineage-system, etc.). Instead, as
chapter four and five show, the bands and settlements
are based on bilateral and rather flexible personal re-
lationships. Moreover, personal autonomy, respect for
the individual and equality among all human beings are
the most valued principles in social life. The principle
that individuals and their decisions should be deeply
respected also reflects itself in the, as it were, (bilateral)
marriage patterns and in the flexible composition of
band membership, though certain preferences for cross-
relatives are apparent. In contrast, any superordination
is regarded improper behaviour. If it occurs, the main
response is avoidance or tacit personal diplomacy.
This theme is further explicated in chapter six where
the fabric of kinship relations is shown in detail. Though
the Paliyar do not, as Gardner points out, practise the
Tamil system of affinal marriage across generations,
they do use the Dravidian kinship terminology and,
in particular in everyday affairs, they highly value
immediate affinal relatives like cross-cousins and cross-
nieces. “In sum,” says Gardner (116), “Paliyan affina'
and cross-relatives are special, small sub-sets of the fu"
set of relatives,” thus confirming B. Morris’ data on
the Malapanadaram (Forest Traders. London 1982) ano
Demmer’s on the Jenu Kurumba (Always an Argument-
Anthropos 96.2001:475-490).
Another vital dimension of contemporary Paliyal
culture is the relationship and interaction of the peop'e
with their deities and spirits (both called caami).
contrast to the pattern of equality among humans*
these beings are accorded a super ordinate status whef6
individual self reliance and autonomy is suspended. I*1
contrast, this sphere allows for the open articulât'011
of dependency and the need for help and supp°rt'
As chapter seven shows, most of the adult Paliyal
are able to embody the gods and spirits and, dunn&
séances of possession, humans are able to convex6
with them in ordinary language. Like the Malapandara
(B. Morris, Hill Gods and Extatic Cults. Man in l>H‘[
61.1981:203-236), the Nayakar (N. Bird-David. PuJf
or Sharing with the Gods? The Eastern Anthropolo£lS
49.1996:259-276) and the Jenu Kurumba (Dem**
2001) interaction and conversation with the gods a°
spirits constitute cultural performances, where pe°P
ask the other-than-human beings for advice, where m
Anthropos 10170°
Rezensionen
273
are given instructions about how to live in a proper
Way, and where they can ask for “parental care and
authoritative knowledge” (139), particularly in times of
conflict and trouble. This often involves the use of poetic
speech, and chapter nine explores some of the most
important ways “words and thoughts” (175) are related
in this culture.
The final chapters deal with the relationship of the
Paliyar with the world of Tamil culture and caste society.
They show the ambivalence of Tamils who devalue and
disrespect the loose and flexible organization of the
Paliyar, while at the same time they don’t regard the
Paliyar as low or impure, but integrate them in their
Tamil culture of ritual worship. Accordingly, Paliyar for
example carry out certain temple- or puuja-services.
In sum, this book is a much welcome contribution
to the study of South Asian anthropology. It is enriched
with photographs, figures, tables, and maps; it has a
glossary of the most important Paliyar concepts and a
rich index that allows for cross-readings and references.
Written in a clear and sensitive style, this monograph
Stakes vivid and important reading not only for scholars
°f South Indian foraging cultures but, as Richard B. Lee
Points out in the preface, for the comparative research
°n gatherer-hunter communities at large.
Ulrich Demmer
Gavin, Traude: Iban Ritual Textiles. Leiden: KITLV
^ress, 2003. 356 pp. ISBN 90-6718-202-8. (Verhande-
Ingen van het Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en
°lkenkunde, 205) Price: € 40,00
This publication makes available to a larger public
the
htesi
material contained in Traude Gavin’s 1995 PhD
T1®8*8 from the University of Hull, “Iban Ritual Fabrics,
heir Patterns and Names.” It, however, benefits from
e intervening time that permitted development of
^oricepts merely suggested in the earlier work as well
two new chapters. This is an important work on Iban
xtiles and will be of significance to scholars of this
mlated fields. Some of the innovative interpretations
y suggest to scholars that they look anew within their
°'vn fields.
Patti
This
work primarily concerns the Iban warp ikat
erned ritual blanket known as pua kumbu. Once
tQ(j1Cai to headhunting and the reception of trophy heads,
ay Powerful pua are required for the efficacy of
ai (ritual festivities) in which the cloths are used to
. truct necessary shrines and to honor the sacrificial
h) ^ such occasions powerful cloths attract the gods
aRend and bless the proceeding.
te 0r those only passingly familiar with the Iban
cha! e a wise choice would be to read Gavin’s
Utr^!^ ^ first- (The initial chapters present a concise
gy Uction to Iban history, mythology, and sociolo-
gfo^1^ recent citations for those wanting additional
Puq Included is a chapter that covers the ways
res Action in Iban life.) Chapter VI is a clear and
in f.ect^u^ explication of the role of Alfred C. Haddon
thl8 field
and the influence of his work for almost a
Anth
ropos 101.2006
century. Haddon’s and Laura Start’s 1936 publication
“Iban or Sea Dayak Fabrics and Their Patterns” was
the first publication to address Iban fabrics. It drew on
material collected in Borneo by Charles Hose, a late
19th century administrative officer in Sarawak, which
included many named patterns. Haddon explained the
discrepancy between name and visual representation on
the cloth as representative forms that had evolved into
“degenerate” forms. He concluded that most patterns
acted as talismans connected to omen animals. Haddon’s
book provided the basis for virtually all writing on
Iban textiles in the last century, even being reprinted in
1982. Gavin situates Haddons’s analysis within the art
historical world of the late 19th and early 20th centuries
and corrects much of his presentation based on contem-
porary field data. She then surveys current art historical
concepts, thus creating a matrix of understanding for her
own presentation.
Gavin’s ordering of her material on motifs requires
close attention to her distinctions between names as
titles and names as labels which she explains is of
primary concern to the Iban themselves. All names of
skirt patterns (kain kebat) are merely labels and while
some pua may have names that act as labels, important
pua are distinguished by having titles. The names of
skirt patterns act as mnemonic devices to distinguish
one type of motif from another, but they rarely involve
graphic depiction. Because skirt patterns and their names
are the same in all Iban areas and can be traced for more
than 100 years, Gavin proposes skirts and their labels
predate pua with their category of titles.
Pua titles incorporate concepts of rank and ritual
efficacy. These are determined by the pattern age and
proven ritual worth. However, there is no intrinsic as-
sociation between title and pattern; rather, it is a private
symbol known only to the weaver. Only after being
copied over time in conjunction with its orally com-
municated title does a pattern become a conventional
symbol. Pattern titles, often taken from legends, myths,
or chants, do not say what a pattern depicts, but that the
pattern’s power is like that of the title. Traditional pua
patterns, according to Gavin, are essentially decorative.
However, the cloths and their titles are women’s most
important contribution to Iban ritual.
Because the process of making cloth is directly
associated with the spirit world, the weavers and their
cloth partake of a special prestige. Iban weavers acquire
the right - even are commanded - to weave powerful
patterns from spirits who communicate to them in
dreams. Such undertaking is fraught with potential
danger to the weaver that could imperil her well-
being and even her life. Charms and special rituals
are needed for protection and these are invoked at
particular times such as preparing the yarns for dyeing
and the initial stages of weaving. The creation of
powerful patterns confers high social rank on the weaver
placing her within a system of prestige parallel to that
which recognizes men’s headhunting valor. In making
powerful cloth women enter into a value system based
on bravery.
274
Rezensionen
One of the most dangerous stages in the making of
patterned cloth involves the preparation of the yarns for
dyeing. Earlier writers have identified this as the process
of mordanting (a process of treating the yarns with a
metallic salt to enable the coloring agent to bind with the
yarn). Gavin’s work shows, however, that the ceremony
known as ngar which only the most highly experienced
weavers would undertake does not involve mordanting,
but only the pretreatment of the yams with an oil and
an alkali.
Gavin’s position as a foreign woman working within
Iban society allowed her to participate in the ritual and
domestic activities of both genders. Her observations of
the pros and cons of the role of each gave her a more
complex understanding than that of a more restricted ob-
server. One also supposes that the more informal casual
discourse that women enjoy upon repeated acquaintance
may have revealed varying levels of interpretation that
informed her final conclusions. One of these challenges
several concepts put forward by earlier scholars. She
disputes the idea that childbearing and the cultivation
of rice are the equivalents to men’s headhunting. She
shows that both headhunting and weaving, “resulted
in benefits for the community. Trophy heads brought
fertility and prosperity, while cloth affords protection in
times of crisis and provides a means of communication
with gods and spirits” (271 f.). Also Gavin’s more than
three years of work among the Iban conducted over a
period of ten years gave her an insight about the control
women exert over all major ceremonial occasions.
Although primarily addressing the role of locally
woven textiles this work includes much tangential infor-
mation about Iban society and will be valued by scholars
from many disciplines. Mattiebelle Gittinger
Glowczewski, Barbara : Rêves en colère avec les
Aborigènes australiens. Alliances aborigènes dans le
Nord-Ouest australien. Paris : Plon, 2004. 436 pp. ISBN
2-259-19931-3. Prix; €28,00
Après “Les Rêveurs du désert” (1989) et “Du rêve
à la loi chez les Aborigènes” (1991), voici “Rêves en
colère : avec les Aborigènes australiens ”, le troisième
livre de Barbara Glowczewski consacré à ces popula-
tions d’Australie qu’elle côtoie depuis près de 30 ans.
Paru dans la collection “ Terre Humaine ” qui a fêté ses
50 ans d’existence en 2005, le présent ouvrage a en
commun avec le premier un style d’écriture accessible à
tous, témoignant du désir de l’auteur de parler d’une
philosophie et d’êtres humains qui ont profondément
marqué sa vie. Bien qu’érudits, les deux livres trouvent
donc facilement leur place sur une table de chevet.
Avec “Du rêve à la loi”, il partage une volonté
d’appréhender la cosmologie aborigène au-delà des par-
ticularités locales. Tous deux sont comparatifs en ce
qu’ils conjoignent des informations provenant de divers
groupes aborigènes (83 pour “ Du rêve à la loi ” et 28
pour “Rêves en colère”), mais la démarche est toute
différente. Issu d’un doctorat d’État, le premier était
réservé aux spécialistes et, malgré l’originalité de l’ana-
lyse, il suivait les canons usuels de l’œuvre académique ;
l’ouvrage paru en 2004 nous fait lui aussi accéder aux
principes de la cosmologie aborigène, mais presque à
notre insu, en nous faisant progresser sinueusement pour
mieux nous emmener loin de nos systèmes de pensée
linéaires et parfois clos sur eux-mêmes. En cela, il
peut sans doute être rapproché du résultat de l’élégante
recherche formelle qu’a effectuée l’auteur au cours de
l’élaboration du cédérom “ Dreamtrackers ” (2000) dont
plusieurs protagonistes sont mentionnés ici.
“Rêves en colère” aborde quatre régions bien dis-
tinctes de l’Australie, à la fois géographiquement et
historiquement. Chacune de ces régions est mise en
scène au sein d’un ensemble invariablement composé de
cinq chapitres, que B. Glowczewski appelle un “ Livre ■
À première vue, on pourrait penser qu’elle n’a choisi
ces régions que pour les avoir parcourues, habitées et
aimées ; en fait, elles l’ont probablement été aussi parce
qu’elles permettaient d’aborder un très grand nombre
d’aspects de la préhistoire, de l’histoire et de la culture
du pays et de ses premiers habitants.
Les vingt chapitres de l’ouvrage sont ainsi autant de
“ leçons ” dépassant les frontières de ces régions (leçon
de cosmologie, de parenté, de syncrétisme, d’écologie»
de connexionnisme, etc.). En construisant son récit de
la sorte, que veut nous faire ressentir intuitivement l’au-
teur, avant de nous en donner des clefs plus explicites ?
Sans doute que la pensée aborigène est à la fois une:
tous les groupes présentent pour invariant le cadre cultu-
rel spatio-temporel du “ Dreaming ”, ce concept-clé de H
pensée aborigène qui désigne “ un espace-temps éternel
et en devenir auquel on accède par des sortes de portail8
virtuels que sont les sites sacrés, les rites et surtout lu
pratique onirique ” (43) ; et en même temps multiple
dans la mesure où cet invariant se décline sous diverses
formes selon les régions. Mais peut-être cherche-t-elle
aussi à nous montrer que cette pensée - et les pratique8
qui lui sont associées - est de nature réticulaire ? Dan8
cette cosmologie particulière, les significations naissent
des itinéraires et des arrêts, qui lient entre eux de8
éléments du paysage et des groupes différents. On sai8lt
également, ici encore à la fois implicitement et expl’*'
citement, comment se constituent de nouveaux chant8
et de nouvelles scènes rituelles : dans un mouvement
spontané, le rêve de chacun (ici plutôt de chacune
est proposé à l’écoute des autres et les membres de
la communauté l’acceptent ou le rejettent selon 9lie
l’innovation que le rêve porte en lui est jugée conforn1-2
ou non à l’esprit de la Loi, autrement dit “ cet ensemb
de savoirs et de règles concernant la reproduction de
nature, de la culture et du cosmos” (31).
Barbara Glowczewski explique sa démarche ong1
nale dans un long préambule, mais le cheminent6
même du livre rendrait ces explications presque
lit'
utiles. Les cinq leçons de chaque “Livre” install2^
un équilibre là où l’expérience vécue par l’auteur du
chaque région qu’elle a choisi de présenter est unNL .
Les quatre “ Livres ” ont tous leur teneur propre ; ce
sur les Warlpiri (Livre III), est le plus riche 8111
plan ethnologique, et l’on perçoit bien que les anaiy8L'
Anthropos 10 •
2006
Rezensionen
275
proposées sont le fruit de presque de 30 ans d’intimité
avec eux. Le lecteur comprend certaines des règles qui
gouvernent la parenté ; il circule dans les itinéraires
des Rêves qui sous-tendent l’organisation des rituels ;
et il saisit le rapport que les Aborigènes entretiennent
avec leurs morts, au travers des conduites qu’ils doivent
adopter vis-à-vis de leur image et de leur nom.
Le Livre I est le plus personnel : on y voit la famille
du conjoint de l’auteur, artiste et cinéaste aborigène ; on
sent fortement le lien qui unit l’ethnologue à Theresa
Barker, la belle-mère de l’auteur, un lien pourtant
différent de celui qu’elle a tissé avec son amie warlpiri
de toujours, disparue il y a deux ans, à laquelle elle
avait dédié son premier livre et dont le portrait de
Profil orne la couverture du dernier. Il est aussi l’un
de
ceux, avec celui consacré à la Terre d’Arnhem
(Livre IV), où les influences extérieures sur la vie
locale (celles des pêcheurs de perles de Broome, des
Marchands indonésiens, ou des maisons de jeux) sont le
Plus perceptibles.
Le Livre II fait surgir un personnage important de
la vie aborigène, déjà mis en scène par Wayne Barker
dans l’un de ses films. Cette fois, son épouse ethnologue
nous emmène sur les pas de ce passeur infatigable dans
lo monde encore vif des peintures rupestres du Plateau
dos Kimberley. À l’écoute des leçons de cet homme
0riginaire du lieu, c’est tout l’univers des premiers mo-
njents de la création des éléments du paysage et des êtres
Vlvants inscrit sur les parois qui se met à vibrer. On com-
Pmnd là un peu du rapport de continuité que les Abo-
rigènes établissent avec ce que nous appelons le passé.
Le dernier Livre est consacré aux habitants de la
mrre d’Arnhem, au nord-est du pays. Comme la pénin-
^ule Dampier, autour de Broome, cette région maritime
Ul le théâtre de contacts réguliers, voire le lieu d’in-
flation, de pêcheurs de bêches-de-mer venant de Ma-
assar dont l’impact se fait sentir dans les récits my-
^iques peuplés de personnages dont on peut associer
^ norn à cette région du sud de l’archipel des Célèbes.
• Lllowczewski se demande même si les échanges avec
acassar n’auraient pas contribué à créer des circuits
_?mnierciaux entre groupes aborigènes. Mais des liens
j^Us anciens seraient attestés, comme le laisse supposer
Présence de la figure du dingo, ce chien arrivé en
fralie il y a entre 4 000 et 6 000 ans, dans des mythes
lngu traitant des relations avec Macassar (336).
Ce voyage en terre aborigène se fait au cours de
^nversatiQns entre l’ethnologue et ses amis aborigènes,
ni desquelles des paroles émergent, que l’ethnologue
emble ensuite en une vision du monde propre à ce
cje e c°ntinent, mais dont elle fait volontiers de ses fon-
^ ntents - à la faveur d’une extrapolation parfois osée
diy06, archilecture commune à bien des phénomènes de
du °rc*res (cognitif, cosmique, génétique). Aux yeux
san Ct6Ur que ce beau livre rend exigeant, les connais-
p^6.8 et la rigueur de son auteur se trouvent alors
peut î8 malmenées par cet emportement généralisateur,
et e Gtre est_ce le coût de la démarche si particulière
au ^fress^ve de B. Glowczewski, qui cherche à coller
Plus pr^s ¿es voies ¿g ja cosmologie aborigène.
Atuhr,
°Pos 101.2006
On en retient finalement que, pour elle, les Aborigènes
détiennent une riche clef pour penser (et vivre) le
monde. Pascale Bonnemère
Goodenough, Ward H.: Under Heaven’s Brow. Pre-
Christian Religious Tradition in Chuuk. Philadelphia:
American Philosophical Society, 2002. 421 pp. ISBN
0-87169-246-5. Price: $30.00
Wozu sind Religionen da? Damit sie die vorhandenen
Bedürfnisse nach spirituellem und sozialem Wohlerge-
hen befriedigen und die Menschen daraufhin harmo-
nisch, gesund und in Frieden Zusammenleben können.
So könnte man - natürlich zugespitzt - die funktionalis-
tische Theorie der Religion von Ward H. Goodenough
auf den Punkt bringen. Doch welche Bedürfnisse haben
Menschen und warum? Wie kann man diese ermit-
teln? Welche Bedürfnisse haben speziell die Menschen
auf Chuuk? Welche Bedürfnisse hatten sie in der vor-
christlichen Zeit, die vielleicht 100 Jahre zurückliegt?
Inwiefern kann gerade deren, auf der mikronesischen
Insel entwickelte Religionsform die Bedürfnisse so gut
befriedigen? Wieso braucht dies überhaupt Religion? All
diese Fragen drängen sich förmlich auf, je weiter man
sich in Ward H. Goodenoughs Thesen vertieft.
Zunächst verfolgt Goodenough mit seinem umfang-
reichen Werk zwei Ziele. Zum einen will er das ge-
sammelte Wissen, das über indigene Glaubensvorstel-
lungen auf Chuuk existiert, zusammenstellen, wofür er
eine Vielzahl von Quellen auch deutschsprachiger Auto-
ren heranzieht. Zweitens will er seine funktionalistische
Theorie der Religion präsentieren und untermauern. Die
obigen kritischen Einlassungen sollen keineswegs die
Qualität und wissenschaftliche Integrität Ward Good-
enoughs schmälern. Nach dem 2. Weltkrieg erstmals
im Rahmen von CIMA, der “Coordinated Investigation
into Micronesian Anthropology”, nach Chuuk gekom-
men, hat der Autor in der Folge weitere Feldaufenthalte
dort verbracht und bedeutende Werke u. a. zur Sozial-
anthropologie Chuuks verfasst. Auch seine linguistische
Kompetenz ist hervorzuheben, die es ihm ermöglicht,
umfassend mit einheimischen Begriffen zu argumen-
tieren sowie Übersetzungen vorzulegen bzw. zu über-
prüfen. Das vorliegende Buch ist höchstwahrscheinlich
sein Alterswerk, mit dem er alles Wissenswerte speziell
zum Thema Religion auf Chuuk zusammenfasst. Es ist
beeindruckend in seiner Vielfalt, Quantität, Qualität, De-
tailgenauigkeit, erschöpfenden Quellennutzung, Präsen-
tation und wissenschaftlichen Bearbeitung. Sein Anlie-
gen, auch für die Menschen von Chuuk eine sprudelnde
Quelle des Wissens über ihre eigene religiöse Tradition
zu hinterlassen, ist in jedem Kapitel spürbar.
Dabei hat Goodenough einen historischen Ansatz,
in dem er besonderes Augenmerk darauf legt, anhand
alter, oftmals deutscher Quellen, ein Bild der vorchristli-
chen Religion nachzuzeichnen. Sein Buch hat also einen
rekonstruierenden Anspruch, was durchaus löblich ist,
da er alle ethnographischen Daten zusammengetragen
und zu einem übersichtlichen Ganzen formiert hat. Am
Anfang stehen die grundsätzlichen Basisinformationen
276
Rezensionen
über die Gesellschaft Chuuks und ihre Sozialorgani-
sation, die Konstruktion von “Seif’ und “Personhood”
in der chuukesischen Vorstellung, die komplexen See-
lenvorstellungen sowie Goodenoughs theoretischer An-
satz. Dann folgen detailreiche Ausführungen über die
Götter und Geistwesen, die das religiöse Denken der
Chuukesen bestimmen. Viele Rituale werden vorgestellt,
von der Art und Weise, wie man spezielle Anliegen
symbolisch mit Objekten zum Ausdruck bringen kann,
über die rituelle Vorgehensweise der Eheanbahnung bis
hin zur Kriegsführung oder politischen Macht der Itang,
der politischen Priester.
Immer wieder geht es in diesem Buch auch um
Krankheiten. Werden Rituale nicht in der vorgeschrie-
benen Reihenfolge abgehalten oder werden Chiefs und
Itangs nicht tabugerecht behandelt, drohen Strafen in
Form von Krankheiten. Ausführliche Appendizes be-
schäftigen sich mit der Auflistung von Krankheiten, die
durch Geister, Dämonen oder Tabubrüche verursacht
werden. Goodenough beschäftigt sich eingehend damit,
wodurch Krankheiten entstehen, was man dagegen tun
kann und wie wichtig das Gemeinschafts- und Zusam-
mengehörigkeitsgefühl der Lineage ist, die für den ein-
zelnen sorgt, um so auch Schaden von den anderen
Gruppenmitgliedern und der Gemeinschaft als Ganzer
abzuwenden. Doch was ist krank und was ist gesund?
Was wird als Krankheit angesehen und was nicht? Diese
Fragen erörtert Goodenough nicht. So wie hier bleiben
in vielen anderen Kapiteln Fragen zurück, die man gerne
auch noch beantwortet hätte.
Dient Religion der Krankenheilung? Ja, natürlich
auch. Doch durch die Auflistung der vielfältigen Er-
krankungen und vor allem der Sorgen und Ängste der
Menschen, diese Krankheiten auf sich zu ziehen, be-
kommt dieser Aspekt eine überproportionale Bedeutung.
Bezeichnenderweise beginnt das Kapitel über die tra-
ditionelle chuukesische Gesellschaft mit den Worten:
“Every human society’s traditional Organization of so-
cial relationships imposes constraints to which people
must leam to adapt in the course of becoming socially
acceptable mature adults. In this chapter and the next
we examine what these constraints were in traditional
Chuukese society, constraints within which individual
persons had to learn to conduct themselves” (29). Sozia-
le Zwänge, starre Rangordnungen, die Einhaltung formal
korrekter Verhaltensweisen, Ängste und Befürchtungen
der Menschen werden immer wieder thematisiert. Im
Kapitel über Aggression und Zauberei (“Rituals of Ag-
gression: Sorcery”; 267-272) werden diese Probleme
auch noch einmal von einer ganz anderen Seite aufge-
griffen. Der soziale Zwang zu Ordnung, Harmonie und
Obrigkeitshörigkeit bewirke, dass Aggressionen, dem
Menschen nun einmal angeboren, nicht offen gezeigt
werden könnten und dürften. Daher entwickelten sich
andere Kanäle, wohin diese Aggressionen umgelenkt
werden können: zum Beispiel die Zauberei (vgl. S. 271).
Auch die Kriegführung in früheren Zeiten gilt als ein
Ventil, Aggressionen und Wut rauszulassen. In den übri-
gen, friedlichen Lebensbereichen erzwingen Angst und
Scham sowie das Angewiesensein auf den Zugang zu
Nahrungsressourcen soziales Wohlverhalten, aus dem
ein Ausbruch kaum möglich erscheint (vgl. S. 267). Das
beginnt schon in der frühesten Kindheit, in der Kinder
lernen, allerlei Ängsten gewärtig zu sein und sich in die
Hackordnung einzufügen: “Children grew up in a world,
then, in which strangers were to be avoided, in which
there were enemies to be reckoned with, in which there
were powerful and hence potentially dangerous persons,
even among neighbors and kin, and in which they could
readily fall victim to the caprice of demons and ghosts
and to the provoked anger of spirits” (51 f.). Ausbruchs-
versuche, Missfallensäußerungen, Unlust oder Feindse-
ligkeiten werden z. B. durch die Taktik des Beschämens,
also des gefürchteten öffentlichen Bloßstellens, unter-
drückt.
Religion kann stabilisierend wirken, aber auch be-
klemmend, und sie kann das gestrickte Sozialgefüge
zu einem “korporativen Staat” zusammenkleistern. Viele
Selbstmorde unter Jugendlichen in den westlichen Karo-
linen belegen diesen als eng und restriktiv empfundenen
Verhaltensrahmen. Andererseits: Nicht alle Menschen
auf Chuuk (oder Yap) mögen dies so empfinden oder
empfunden haben. Auch Goodenoughs obige Darstel-
lungen können möglicherweise viel zu düster ausge-
fallen sein. Westliche Vorstellungen über die Freiheit
des Individuums können nicht zugrundegelegt werden,
wie auch der Autor einmal selbst einwendet (45). Diese
wurden ja erst entwickelt, als junge Menschen zu Aus-
bildungszwecken die Heimatinsel verließen und andere
Gesellschaftsformen kennen lernten. Schließlich ist ein
Leben in äußerer Harmonie auch ein Wert an sich-
Das Sozialgefüge beruht zwar auch auf Hierarchien,
diese sind jedoch flach und werden reziprok ausgestaltet-
Wenn man sich Zeit seines Lebens ausschließlich irü
Kreis seiner Verwandten bewegt (44, 50) - Zwischen-
frage: Ist dies auch heute noch so? so muss dieses Mb'
einander ruhig und fair geregelt sein. Der Preis für diß
relative Stabilität ist die Anpassung an das vorgegebene
Korsett. Den idealen Zustand des Einzelnen beschreib1
Goodenough folgendermaßen: “The ideal state of being
to which people aspired was to be healthy, well-fed’
recognized as responsible adults who were capable oi
caring for dependent children and junior lineage mates,
to have control of some specialized skills that mnde
them persons of account in their community, to be seen
as personally attractive by others, expecially those 0
the other sex, and to be regarded as persons who wet6
not be trifled with” (336). Effizienz und Kompeten2
sind in der Quintessenz die höchsten Tugenden, die ein
Mensch erstreben kann und sollte. Religion dient nn
Chuuk daher nicht der Anbetung von Göttern, sondei11
der Erlangung solcher positiver Eigenschaften und d
Abwehr nicht wünschenswerter Zustände wie Erkrnn
kungen. Vorhandene Aggressionen werden in Zauber
oder Kriegführung kanalisiert. Insofern stellt die Rehr1
on, wie eingangs angeklungen, durchaus eine Runduh^,
Versorgung dar, die die menschlichen Bedürfnisse ^
lange Sicht befriedigen kann. Allerdings zum Preis
Triebunterdrückung und auf Kosten der freien ernol'0
nalen Entwicklung.
Anthropos 1017°^
Rezensionen
277
Goodenoughs Buch hat einen monographischen, en-
zyklopädischen Charakter. Sicherlich wird es in Bezug
auf Religion in Mikronesien, speziell Chuuk, in Zukunft
heißen; “Schlag nach bei Goodenough!” Und das zu
Recht. Alles was man über Religion auf Chuuk wissen
kann, hat er zusammengetragen. Und sogar noch mehr.
Manche Kapitel werfen die Frage auf: “Ist das noch
Religion?” Oder; “Ist dies nicht eher ein ethnomedizi-
nisches Buch?” Oder auch: “Geht es hier nicht einfach
um Emotionen und deren Handhabung?” Das alles kann
man diskutieren, ebenso wie seine Thesen über die funk-
Üonalistische Theorie der Religion, die ein Stoff bleibt,
an dem sich jeder und jede reiben sollte. Daher sei sein
Buch zum Reinschauen und Nachschlagen, aber auch
zur kritischen Diskussion unter Experten empfohlen.
Corinna Erckenbrecht
Grijp, Paul van der: Identity and Development.
Tongan Culture, Agriculture, and the Perenniality of
the Gift. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2004. 225 pp. ISBN
90-6718-215-X. (Verhandelingen van het Koninklijk In-
stituât voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, 213) Price:
€ 35,00
One of the most intriguing questions in Pacific devel-
°Pment remains that of how Pacific Island States create
aud maintain their new business classes. In this excep-
honally well-researched book, van der Grijp provides
an answer to the perennial question of how societies
c°me to be stratified by examining the emergence in
recent years of Tonga’s most powerful class of locally
based entrepreneurs; squash growers and exporters. He
analyses the efforts at development by governmental
and nongovernmental organizations at work as agents of
change external to the society. He discusses, as well, as
lhe local institutional and everyday concerns of people
Eternal to the society in which capitalism has inter-
lined with local life to create four important ideologies
y which Tongans identify who they are. These include
chieftainship based in “mana-tapu” complex; kinship
as h informs social hierarchy; land tenure structure
both of these; and a subsistence gift economy (3-
9)- Tongan identity is not traditional, but a bricolage
traits, from which Tongans creatively act to make
. eir lives possible. From this combined set of forces
'n T°ngan life, internal and external to the society, the
mdle class emerges as a historical development from
dee grass roots” in the garden of the Pacific, Tonga. Van
r Grijp’s profound contribution comes from his recog-
lQu that by theorizing Tongan lives and social change
’uterwoven by capitalism he can give readers a better
count of Tongan agency. So he should, he describes a
th-st Tongan, bourgeois livelihood, and the social milieu
values entrepreneur’s agency most highly.
0j. ^he author has considered very deeply the matter
full °W t0 assess fbe entrepreneurs’ livelihood in this
of TStU^ new social stratification in the Kingdom
l°nga, where the new middle class forms a new
cu- milieu that is different from commoners and
e s. In chapter two, he sets out the pathways for the
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
economic anthropologist to understand business devel-
opment, and I agree with Howard in the foreword that
this is a model of clarity and good reason. Indeed, it
would be an excellent resource on its own, simply for
teaching the anthropology of development. In the rest of
the book we learn that entrepreneurialism on Tonga is
more than a set of technical skills and innovative ideas,
although entrepreneurs might want others to believe
in their expertise. Van der Grijp makes no mistakes
on that count, and he does not confuse the matter by
defining entrepreneurs simply by the entrepreneurs’ own
beliefs. He asks how to become a good squash grower
and examines how that social, personal, and technical
expertise is key to the creation of new social strata.
The squash growers were more than farmers who might
remain commoners. They lived out intricate lives in a
vast network of social relationships across Tonga and
abroad. As well as growing squash, they distributed the
product through networks of international connections
which they won and learned how to maintain through
their advanced education in the United States or Aus-
tralia; as the reader learns from the many case studies
used to extend the basic argument of this book. Van
der Grijp has chosen to focus on exactly the quotidian
practices that matter to the successful entrepreneur in
order to show the reader exactly how they create a new
social milieu. The entrepreneur both requires and uses
the perenniality of the gift.
Most importantly, van der Grijp wants to know
how be a “good” squash grower in Tonga as a way
of understanding the role of the entrepreneur in social
stratification. He aptly shows us that it is not enough to
know how to innovate with agricultural technologies to
make the best pumpkin crops. Indeed, squash growers
succeed with larger societal support. This requires that
he understands the external and internal processes that
affect the entirety of Tongan society in which pumpkin
growers work to develop their businesses. He accom-
plishes this understanding by focusing on the machina-
tions of exchange relations. He has written an insightful
well-documented account of the ways in which Tongans
become successful in the pumpkin business, and distin-
guish themselves as a bourgeoisie between chiefly and
common classes.
In addition to the analysis of business development in
Tonga, “Identity and Development” is an extraordinarily
full study of the perenniality of the gift there. Because
he focuses on relations of gift exchange in the work of
squash agriculture, van der Grijp tells us that squash
growers sell goods and labour in order to be able to
give ceremonial gifts to other Tongans. Similarly, he
can tell us that gift giving persists in Tongan society to
enable business development in a cycle of remittances
while educated Tongan men work away. The attempt
here is to show the transformations in the form of the
gift, rather than to insist on its continuity. His lucid
account of the interplay of gift relations in the midst
of capitalist penetration enables him to show us a very
important social and political development in the Tongan
state; simply put, he examines transformations in gift
278
Rezensionen
exchange and its efflorescence as he outlines the rise of
the bourgeoisie in Tonga.
Van der Grijp’s prose is plain, clear, and accessible
to anthropologists, development experts, and general
readers alike; all of who should welcome and account
of the success of a small development project that
also shows the limits entrepreneurs place on every
day lives of their kin and their work associates. Here,
he analyses a contemporary problem; yet, he draws
his conclusions from deep engagement with Tongan
ethnography, as well as from the record of research
into political hierarchy in the region. The book would
be an excellent resource for the anthropological study
and teaching of business development both within and
beyond the university. Karen Sykes
Gufler, Hermann: Affliction and Moral Order. Con-
versations in Yambaland (Cameroon). Canterbury: Cen-
tre for Social Anthropology and Computing, University
of Kent, 2003. 272 pp. ISBN 1-902671-35-X. (CSAC
Monographs, 18) Price; € 15,00
Der katholische Geistliche Hermann Gufler lebte und
arbeitete während über dreissig Jahren in verschiedenen
Teilen des westlichen Kameruner Graslandes. Als Au-
todidakt, ohne jemals eine formale Ausbildung als Eth-
nologe durchlaufen zu haben, aber in seinem Interesse
ermuntert und geleitet durch so ausgewiesene Kenner
der Region wie E. M. (Sally) Chilver und David Zeitlyn,
publiziert Gufler seit 1995 ethnografische Artikel zu
den Yamba, einer ethnischen Gruppe im Nordosten des
anglophonen Kamerun.
Der vorliegende Band vereinigt acht Artikel, die
zuvor in Fachzeitschriften wie Anthropos oder Baessler-
Archiv erschienen sind und nun leicht überarbeitet wur-
den. Bisher unveröffentlicht sind lediglich die “Notes
on Yamba Kinship Terminology” im Anhang sowie das
einführende Kapitel. Hier legt Gufler allgemeine und
einführende Informationen über die von ihm untersuchte
Bevölkerungsgruppe vor. Im Weiteren stellt er darin
seine Informanten vor und gibt Auskunft über seine
Methoden, Erfahrungen und Vorgehensweisen während
seiner Forschungsarbeit.
Die ethnolinguistische Gruppe der Yamba, bis 1933
als Kaka, danach bis 1960 als Mbem bekannt, lebt
in 17 unabhängigen Dörfern, die eigentlich aus ein-
zelnen, teilweise weit voneinander entfernt liegenden
Weilern bestehen, in einem topografisch äusserst diver-
sen Gebiet. Der nördliche, an Nigeria grenzende Teil
des Yamba-Landes, eine Hochsavanne, liegt auf einer
durchschnittlichen Höhe von 1400 Metern, der südliche,
wald- bzw. palmenreiche Teil rund 600 Meter tiefer.
Zugleich ist das von tiefen Tälern zerfurchte Terrain
extrem unzugänglich. Bis in die 1930er Jahre blieben
die Yamba von äusseren Einflüssen relativ unberührt,
allerdings nicht völlig, denn die politischen Autoritäten
in den Dörfern, die Chiefs (im Sinne eines institu-
tionalisierten, administrativen “Häuptlingsamts”), schei-
nen eine von der deutschen Kolonialverwaltung um die
Jahrhundertwende eingeführte Institution zu sein. Noch
heute hätten sie deshalb wenig Autorität und Einfluss in
den Dörfern.
Gufler konnte für seine Forschungen im Wesentli-
chen auf zwei (männliche) Informanten zugreifen. Frau-
en seien kaum zu Auskünften bereit gewesen, schreibt
er. Die Gespräche mit Pa Monday Kongnjo und Pa Sam
Kobuin, seinen Schlüsselinformanten, der eine Mitte 70,
der andere Mitte 50 (zum Zeitpunkt der Vorbereitungen
und dem Erscheinen des Buches), nahm Gufler auf Band
auf und transkribierte sie jeweils am folgenden Tag.
Dabei tauchten neue Fragen auf, die schliesslich wie-
der in die nächsten, meist abendlichen oder nächtlichen
Diskussionen einflossen. Alle Gespräche erfolgten im
privaten Rahmen, ohne Übersetzer, in Pidgin English,
der Lingua franca im anglophonen Kamerun. Gufler
arbeitete ohne Forschungsassistenten und Fragebogen,
denn er hatte, wie er betont, “alle Zeit der Welt und
keine Termine, die einzuhalten waren”. Sowohl Mon-
day Kongnjo als auch Sam Kobuin arbeiteten nach Be-
darf als Wahrsager (“diviner”). Die Voraussetzung und
gleichzeitig das Resultat dieser Tätigkeit waren umfas-
sende Kenntnisse der sozialen Mechanismen, Sitten und
Rituale der Gesellschaft, in der sie sich bewegten. Auf
diese Kenntnisse sowie auf seine eigenen Beobachtun-
gen und Fragestellungen stützte sich Gufler in seinen
Forschungen und den daraus hervorgehenden Artikeln.
Eine der grösseren Schwierigkeiten in seiner For-
schungsarbeit waren die Unterschiede nicht nur zwi-
schen Ober- und Unter-Yamba, sondern sogar jene
zwischen den einzelnen Weilern, aus denen ein Dorf
bestand. Es gab offensichtlich keinen allein gültigen
“Yamba way of doing things”. Gemeinsamkeiten und
Unterschiede desselben Rituals seien in verschiedenen
Dörfern oft gleich bemerkenswert gewesen. In der Kon-
sequenz beschränkte sich Gufler in der Beschreibung
der diversen Rituale im Wesentlichen auf Nkwi, eines
der Dorfviertel von Gom in Unter-Yamba, von wo Sam
Kobuin, einer seiner beiden Hauptinformanten stammte
und welches er selbst gut kannte. Trotz dieser aner-
kannten regionalen Unterschiede zeigt sich Gufler abet
zuversichtlich, dass die meisten der älteren Yamba, die
“Traditionalisten”, mit seinen Beschreibungen einver-
standen wären.
Hermann Guflers Artikel sind, dies betont er m1
Untertitel des Buchs und noch einmal im Vorwort-
eine Erweiterung der Gespräche, die er mit sein611
Informanten, insbesondere Sam Kobuin und Monday
Kongnjo führte. In mehrerer Hinsicht sei es ihr Buch’
merkt Gufler bescheiden an, und schliesslich mochte
er damit allen Yamba die Resultate seiner Forschung6'1
zugänglich machen.
Guflers Beiträge beschäftigen sich auf jeweils 20 h|S
30 Seiten mit klassischen Themen der Ethnologie: de'1
zentralen Ereignissen innerhalb eines Menschenleben^
Heirat (Kapitel 2, “Yamba Marriage Systems"),
und Begräbnis (Kapitel 9, “Crying the Death”) 0
Geburt (Kapitel 6, “Yamba Twin Ritual”), sowie m1^
den Ritualen und Kulthandlungen, die an bestimm
soziale oder jahreszeitliche Ereignisse gebunden s"\-
(Kapitel 3, “Social, Ritual, and Religious Aspect* 0
Anthropos 101
2006
Rezensionen
279
the Communal Hunt”; Kapitel 5, “Cooking the Grave.
Aspects of Yamba Ritual Symbolism”). Hinzu kommen
ein Kapitel über das Spinnen-Orakel (Kapitel 4, “Yamba
Spider Divination”) und eines über Hexerei (Kapitel 8,
“Yamba Witchcraft Beliefs”). Gerade hier, am Beispiel
der komplexen Materie der Hexerei, zeigt sich, wie
tief das, was Gufler in seinen Artikeln beschreibt,
in das Leben und den Alltag der Menschen um ihn
herum eingreift. Sowohl Sam Kobuin als auch Monday
Kongnjo verlegten ihre Wohnsitze mehrmals, weil sie
sich von Hexen oder durch Hexerei bedroht fühlten.
Hermann Gufler schafft es, in der vorliegenden Pu-
blikation, ganz in der Art wie Geertz ethnografisches Ar-
beiten beschrieben hat (C. Geertz, Dichte Beschreibung.
Frankfurt 1987: 15), die “Vielfalt komplexer, oft über-
einander gelagerter oder ineinander verwobener Vorstel-
lungsstrukturen, die fremdartig und zugleich ungeordnet
Und verborgen sind”, zu fassen und anschaulich in eth-
nografische Texte umzuformen. Seine lange Präsenz in
der Region, seine offensichtliche Sensibilität und Offen-
heit gegenüber den Menschen, die dort leben, ermöglich-
ten ihm Gespräche, die mehr waren als nur Reden
(um nochmals Geertz zu zitieren). Bemerkenswert ist
ullerdings, dass Gufler den religiösen Hintergrund seiner
Arbeit (und damit den Grund seiner Anwesenheit) zwar
erwähnt, aber nicht als für seine Forschungen relevant
thematisiert. Wenig erfahren wir auch über den Grad
und die Art und Weise seiner Integration in die lokalen
Gesellschaften.
Hermann Guflers Artikel sind dichte Beschreibungen
der Lebenswelt der Yamba und wertvolle Dokumente
emer Gesellschaft, die längst nicht mehr so abgeschie-
den und relativ unberührt von der Aussenwelt besteht.
Heute lebt immerhin rund die Hälfte aller Yamba aus-
terhalb ihrer ursprünglichen Siedlungsgebiete im übri-
^en Kamerun und in Nigeria und anderswo. Insofern
^äre es interessant zu wissen, wie sich die von Gufler
eschriebenen Rituale und Gebräuche dort erhalten und
entwickelt haben. Genauso spannend wäre schliesslich
e'n Vergleich etwa des Kapitels über die Hexerei mit
eir>ern Bericht über dasselbe Phänomen im südwestlich
pn das Yamba-Gebiet anschliessende Gebiet, so wie das
atrick Mbunwe-Samba in “Witchcraft, Magic, and Div-
teation” (Bamenda 1996) vorgelegt hat (der, wie Gufler,
enfalls auf Drängen von E. M. Chilver schrieb), oder
§ar der Vergleich dieser lokal begrenzten Berichte mit
nem Regionen übergreifenden Versuch der Analyse
d Interpretation von Hexerei wie David Signers “Öko-
j^n-fie der Hexerei” (Wuppertal 2004). Das Gufler dies
^ dt macht ist kein Defizit, sondern liegt ausserhalb
Ssen, was er beabsichtigte. Aber er würde einen soli-
n Haustein dazu liefern. Jürg Schneider
zen Clemens (Hrsg.): “Adieu Ihr lieben Schwär-
st ' Gesammelte Schriften des Tiroler Afrika-Mis-
Crs ^ranz Mayr (1865-1914). Herausgegeben und
4qc Rentiert von C. Gütl. Wien: Böhlau Verlag, 2004.
XPP- ISBN 3-205-77144-3. Preis; €49,00
0r 100 Jahren erschien in dieser Zeitschrift (Anthro-
V,
pos 1.1906: 453-471) der Anfang eines mehrteiligen
Aufsatzes aus der Feder des Tiroler Südafrika-Missio-
nars Franz Mayr; es folgten zwei weitere Teile (.An-
thropos 2.1907: 392-399; 633-645), ein angekündigter
vierter Teil blieb aus. Es trifft sich gut, dass mit die-
ser Besprechung des vorliegenden Bandes “Gesammelte
Schriften” von F. Mayr an einen frühen Mitarbeiter des
Anthropos erinnert werden kann, einen “der interessan-
testen katholischen Missionare im südlichen Afrika” (7,
17), einen beachtlichen Ethnographen, unermüdlichen
Sammler von Ethnographica und begabten Linguisten.
Franz Mayr gehörte zur Gruppe der Missionare,
die Wilhelm Schmidt bei der Gründung des Anthropos
als Mitarbeiter und Leser der Zeitschrift vor allem im
Auge hatte. Gedacht war die Zeitschrift als Medium,
in dem Missionare ihr unschätzbares und oft unaus-
geschöpftes Wissen über fremde Völker und Kulturen
weitergeben konnten. Dann aber sollte Anthropos auch
Hilfe für Missionare sein, ein Forum, wo sie ihrerseits
ein breites Fachwissen der Ethnologie zur Verfügung
hatten. “Als Hauptziel,” so formulierte es einmal Wil-
helm Köppers, wollte W. Schmidt mit seiner neuen
Zeitschrift den katholischen Missionaren “ein geeignetes
Organ zur Veröffentlichung ihrer linguistischen, ethno-
logischen und religionswissenschaftlichen Aufzeichnun-
gen” schaffen.
Der von Clemens Gütl herausgegebene und kom-
mentierte stattliche Band zeichnet in 257 Dokumenten
das abwechslungsreiche Leben Franz Mayrs nach, an-
gefangen mit einem “Formular ‘Schulfortgang F. Mayr’
im Knabenseminar ‘Vinzentinum’ in Brixen [1883/84]”
(43) bis zur Nachricht über die Ermordung F. Mayrs in
einem Brief seines Mitmissionars in Mbabane/Swaziland
A. M. Gratl an die jahrelange Gönnerin F. Mayrs, Gräfin
M. Th. Ledöchowska vom 20. Oktober 1914 (386 f.). Es
handelt sich also, wie man sieht, nicht nur um Schriften
Franz Mayrs, wie der Untertitel des Buches nahe legen
könnte, sondern auch um andere Dokumente zu seiner
Vita und seiner Missionsarbeit.
Gütl breitet das Material der Dokumente in drei
unterschiedlich umfangreichen Hauptteilen aus. Über
Jugend und Entwicklung Franz Mayrs berichtet ein kur-
zer, erster Abschnitt; “Vom Bergbauernsohn zum Pries-
ter - Dokumente 1-4” (27-45); vom eigentlichen Le-
benswerk handelt der umfangreiche, zweite Abschnitt;
“Missionar in Natal - Dokumente 5-197” (47-304);
die letzten Jahre resümiert der dritte Abschnitt: “Letzter
Lebensabschnitt - Dokumente 198-257” (305-387).
Den Abschnitten ist jeweils ein einleitender Text vor-
angestellt, in dem Gütl einen kurzen historischen Ab-
riss aus F. Mayrs Vita gibt. Die einzelnen Dokumente
werden erläutert und kommentiert in einem umfangrei-
chen Fußnotenapparat. Prolog und Epilog öffnen und
schließen den Band; die Bibliographie unterscheidet
zwischen “Primärquellen” (391-397) und “Sekundärli-
teratur” (397-403). Vier Karten dienen der Orientierung
des Lesers (41, 306), zahlreiche Fotos, meist von guter
Qualität, illustrieren den Text.
Aus dem umfangreichen Korpus der Dokumente,
soweit sie von F. Mayr selber stammen, möchte ich
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
280
Rezensionen
zwei Arten herausgreifen und näher vorstellen. Zum
ersten sind hier die zahlreichen Briefe des Missionars
an seine Gönnerin Gräfin Ledöchowska zu nennen.
In einem Brief vom 10.10. 1893 stellt F. Mayr sich
der Gräfin vor, die ihm kurz zuvor als Wohltäterin
empfohlen worden war. Die Korrespondenz zwischen
beiden dauerte bis zum tragischen Tod Mayrs 21 Jahre
später. Gräfin Maria Theresia Ledöchowska gab seit
1889 die Zeitschrift Echo aus Afrika - Katholische
Monatsschrift zur Förderung der Antisclaverei-Bewe-
gung und der afrikanischen Missionsthätigkeit heraus,
in der F. Mayr immer wieder mit Berichten über
seine Missionsarbeit zu Wort kam und von denen viele
in diese Dokumentensammlung aufgenommen wurden.
1894 gründete Gräfin Ledöchowska die “Petrus-Claver
Sodalität für die Afrikanischen Missionen”, mit der
sie für Afrika materielle Hilfe aus Europa organisierte.
F. Mayr hatte oft Gelegenheit, sich bei Gräfin Ledö-
chowska für die tatkräftige materielle Unterstützung zu
bedanken. Er revanchierte sich mit ungezählten Ethno-
graphien, die seinen Sponsoren in Europa einen konkre-
ten Eindruck über den kulturellen Reichtum der Völker-
gruppen geben konnten, unter denen er tätig war.
Mayr war umso mehr auf diese Unterstützung seiner
Freunde in Europa angewiesen, als er keinem Orden
oder keiner Missionsgesellschaft angehörte - bei aller
freundschaftlichen Nähe zu den Marianhillern -, die sei-
ner Missionsarbeit eine finanzielle Absicherung hätten
geben können. 1890 hatte sich F. Mayr den Trappisten
um Abt Franz Pfänner in Marianhill angeschlossen, sich
aber bereits nach acht Monaten wieder von ihnen gelöst
und sich dem Bischof des Vikariates Natal als Welt-
priester zur Verfügung gestellt. Doch der Bischof konnte
ihm jetzt und auch später nicht sehr viel an materieller
Unterstützung bieten; er steckte selber in einem Berg
von Schulden.
Von größerem Interesse ist für Ethnologen allerdings
das Wirken F. Mayrs als Linguist und Ethnograph, das
eindrucksvoll zeigt, wie sehr christliche Mission Begeg-
nung von Kulturen ist, die auf Seiten des Missionars
eine gründliche Kenntnis der Kultur, der Sprache und
Lebensweise also seiner Adressaten und Gesprächspart-
ner erfordert. Der 18. Bd. der “Bibliotheka Missionum”
(Freiburg 1953:456) listet sechs linguistische Publika-
tionen F. Mayrs auf (einen Katechismus in Chimanyika
[eine Ost-Shona Sprache], ein Gebet- und Gesangbuch
in Chimanyika, die Biblische Geschichte in Chimanyika,
Chimanyika Simplified, ein Chimanyika Spelling Book,
Easy English for Natives in Rhodesia - für einige dieser
Publikationen kommt möglicherweise der Marianhiller
Bruder Aegidius Pfister als Koautor in Frage). Gütl
nennt weiter F. Mayrs Zulu-Sprachbuch “Zulu Simpli-
fied”, das wie die meisten der oben genannten Titel
mehrere Auflagen erlebte.
Zwei ethnographische Beiträge, die F. Mayr im
Anthropos publiziert hat, “The Zulu Kafirs of Natal”
(1.1906: 453-471; 2.1907: 392-399; 633-645) und
“Zulu Proverbs” (7.1912: 957-963), werden hier als
Dokument 162-165 wieder abgedruckt; die drei Farb-
tafeln in der Originalpublikation des ersten Aufsatzes
(vgl. 1907: 644), konnten hier leider wohl nur schwarz-
weiß wiedergegeben werden. Ein weiterer ethnographi-
scher Beitrag von F. Mayr ist offenbar sowohl Gütl als
auch “Bibliotheka Missionum” entgangen; “Language of
Colours amongst the Zulus Expressed by Their Bead-
work Ornaments; and Some General Notes on Their
Personal Adornments and Clothing” (Annals of the Na-
tal Government Museum 1.1907/2: 159-167); auch zu
diesem Aufsatz gehört eine Farbtafel.
Eine kritische Anmerkung, sie ist allerdings gewich-
tig, kann ich dem Herausgeber nicht ersparen. Der Le-
ser wird unendliche Mühe haben, sich den Text des
Bandes zu erschließen. Die Anordnung der Dokumente
allein nach der zeitlichen Abfolge ist ausgesprochen
unglücklich; dabei ist nicht bedacht, dass es sich hier um
Texte von sehr unterschiedlichem Umfang und von sehr
unterschiedlicher Bedeutung handelt, die eben nicht alle
aus der Feder von F. Mayr stammen. Weder Index noch
Zeittafel noch Auflistung der Dokumente nach ihren
unterschiedlichen Sorten und Kategorien erleichtern die
Orientierung. Mir scheint, Herausgeber und Verlag sind
auf halbem Weg stehen geblieben. Das ist sehr, sehr
schade. Denn mit ein wenig mehr Mühe hätte wohl sehr
viel mehr erreicht werden können.
Dem Herausgeber und Autor Clemens Gütl ist
gleichwohl für seinen großen Aufwand und seinen im-
mensen Fleiß zu danken. Auch dafür, dass er sich die
Geduld nahm und sich den Anstrengungen unterzog,
diese hochinteressante, faszinierende, aber ganz gewiss
weithin unbekannte Persönlichkeit Franz Mayr aus der
Vergessenheit zu holen. Mayr war, wie es im Vorwort
heißt, ein Mann vieler Talente. In eine arme Tiroler
Bergbauernfamilie geboren, die ihn nicht großziehen
konnte und zu Pflegeeltem gab, vielleicht weil er, ob-
gleich bestens talentiert, mit einem verwachsenen Rück-
grat dem harten Leben der Bergbauern nicht gewach-
sen war; ins Knabenseminar in Brixen aufgenommen,
nach dem Theologiestudium 1884-88 in Brixen zum
Priester geweiht; 1890 freigestellt für die Mission und
ausgereist nach Marianhill in Südafrika, wo er sich den
Trappisten um Abt Franz Pfänner anschließen wollte-
Erstaunlich, mit welcher Zähigkeit er die Malaisen sei-
ner körperlichen Konstitution immer wieder überwinden
konnte, mit welcher Zähigkeit er auch seine Ziele beim
Aufbau seiner Missionsstationen verfolgte; keines dßr
Dokumente zeigt ihn je als mürrisch und unzufrieden
und unfreundlich. Man gewinnt den Eindruck, dass er
zwar ein Einzelgänger war, sehr selbstbewusst, abd
doch auch immer bereit und auch fähig, mitzuarbeite'1
und seine Begabungen und Erfahrungen mit anderen
Missionaren zu teilen.
Das Beispiel Franz Mayrs zeigt, dass Missionare gL,te
Ethnologen sein können; es zeigt aber auch, und das
belegt nicht zuletzt auch diese Dokumentation, so meme
ich, dass nur ein guter Ethnologe ein guter Mission
sein kann. Im allerersten Aufsatz des Anthropos drüc
Alexandre Le Roy, Missionar und Generaloberer d
Spiritaner, diesen Gedanken so aus: “Der katholisc
Missionar kann auch ein Missionar der Wissenscha
sein. Er kann es und, in einem gewissen Maße, muss
Anthropos 101 -
Rezensionen
281
es. ... Der Missionar - vor allem der Leiter der Mission
- muss sich so etwas wie eine Arbeitsstrategie zurecht-
legen, die vor allem das Studium und die Kenntnis des
Landes und seiner Bewohner, der einheimischen Sitten,
Gesetze, Religionen, Sprachen usw. mit einbezieht. Die-
ses Studium gehört zur Verwirklichung seines Auftrags:
Je besser der Missionar das Milieu, in dem er arbeitet,
kennen lernt, desto weniger setzt er sich der Gefahr
aus, Fehler zu machen. Und die Erfolgschancen seines
Einsatzes wachsen” (1906: 4). Und nur so kann Mission
zu einer wirklich partnerschaftlichen Begegnung von
Kulturen werden. Anton Quack
Halperin-Kaddari, Ruth: Women in Israel. A State
°f Their Own. Philadelphia; University of Pennsylva-
nia Press, 2004. 365 pp. ISBN 0-8122-3752-8. Price:
$59.95
Knowledge, as we well know, is power. Hence it
comes as no surprise that much of the information about
the systematic discrimination against women in Israel is
concealed from the public, as well as from groups and
°rganizations that seek to document and publicize it, and
Promote Israeli women’s status, rights, and well-being,
^uth Halperin-Kaddari, a professor of law at the Bar
Han University in Israel, bravely states so in her new
book, “Women in Israel. A State of Their Own.”
Halperin-Kaddari conducted the research and wrote
lbe official report on the status of women in Israel, as
required by the Convention on the Elimination of All
H°rms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW).
Jn the process, she encountered a serious lack of data.
ndeed, she found that even when statistics exist, they
are unavailable, and certainly not easily accessible; this
ls very convenient for an administration that prefers to
Jgnore them. So, for example, the state manages to turn a
und eye to women’s poverty because the official pover-
reports, compiled by the National Insurance Institute,
are not broken down by gender. For the same reason it
's impossible to compare the socioeconomic situation of
amifies headed by single mothers with that of families
®aded by single fathers. Similarly, The Central Bureau
, Statistics (CBS) has significant data on women that
s never appeared in any official publication,
y H gets worse: After the report was written and the
lte(J Nations committee discussed it and published
findings and recommendations, Halperin-Kaddari
Pected the material to be translated into Hebrew and
Arabic,
lhstiti
as required, and submitted to the relevant state
a mions. But this never happened. In consequence,
Isrgreat opportunity for improving the lot of women in
aG basically went down the drain.
ofpalperin-Kaddari’s book, published by University
^ ennsylvama Press, is based on this report, so that
Ration about Israeli women is now accessible to
^au college students and anyone around the world
in i 0rHers English books from “Amazon.com.” But,
univc\°f a Hebrew translation, the book won’t reach
Plin erSlty stU(Jents in Israel, much less the government
lshies and public bodies that should be reading it
Anth;
r°pos 101.2006
as a tool for policy planning, fighting discrimination,
and bettering the status of Israeli women. They can go
on enjoying their blissful ignorance, which conveniently
relieves them of the need to act.
The severe shortage of data exposed by this book fits
in with Halperin-Kaddari’s major conclusion: The status
of women in Israel is not the outcome of any active,
operative policy, but a direct consequence of general so-
cietal trends. It is not thought, planning and premeditated
action that keep women from moving up the ladder, but
rather a broad array of social, economic, and political
variables. To put it simply: Like many other aspects of
life in Israel, there is no planning, no vision, no orderly
long-range thinking. There are “spontaneous” develop-
ments, and they rarely work in the interest of women.
Ironically, Israel has very progressive gender laws,
but it is a well-known fact that they are not enforced,
leaving the field to “natural developments.” The sys-
tematic refusal to know - to the point where a pledge
to translate the report of a UN committee is ignored -
ensures that this dynamic is not about to change any
time soon.
Unique breadth: “Women in Israel” does not aspire
to offer new and surprising findings. It is a compendium
of data gathered by state institutions (such as the CBS),
private foundations (such as the Adva Center), and
academic researchers (among them Nina Toren, Shlomo
Hershkowitz, and the late Dafna Izraeli). What makes
the book unique is its breadth. Over 12 chapters and
nearly 300 pages of text, the author presents facts and
figures on attitudes toward women in the contexts of
health, education, and welfare; in the workplace, in the
public eye, as homemakers, as victims of sexual abuse.
The statistics, from the 1990s and early 21st cen-
tury, come together to create a picture of systematic
neglect, deep-seated apathy, and profound bias against
women. Halperin-Kaddari shows that the problem is
compounded by the religious-clerical character of the
state, the unrelenting preoccupation with security and
existential concerns. These only heighten the discrimi-
nation, turning prejudice against women into something
“natural” and “par for the course,” keeping it off the
public agenda.
In Israel, the book exposes, (much as elsewhere in
the world), medical research tends to focus more on
“male” illnesses rather than those typical of women
(such as breast cancer). The state subsidized drug basket
is more likely to benefit men than women, and neglect
of the elderly is basically neglect of the weakest female
population. Israel has the highest rate in the world
of teenage girls who feel socially pressured to go on
starvation diets that ruin their health.
The book reveals the Israeli version of the familiar
“glass-ceiling” syndrome. It shows that, while most of
the teachers in Israel are women, men who work in
the school system earn more and become principals and
senior educators. Similarly, Israeli academic institutions,
whose job is to provide women with the skills they need
to close social gaps, are among the greatest discrimina-
tors around. While the bulk of university students are
282
Rezensionen
female, and some 40 percent of the lecturers are women,
only 20 percent of associate professors are women and
10 percent of those granted full professorship are wom-
en. And, of course, last but not least, Israel’s religious,
patriarchal family laws severely compromise the civil
rights of Israeli women, entangling them in a variety of
legal-religious complications.
Much of the mentioned data is familiar to daily
readers of Israeli papers and to a very small group of
academic feminists in Israel, but until now, no book
has fully incorporated all this data, laying out all the
facts and figures, bringing them into the light of day
and analyzing them without fear. Therein lies the great
importance of this book.
Its major weakness is that like many of the books
published by prestigious academic presses, it was out
of date even before it hit the bookshelves. The material
is important and enlightening - but most of the figures
were accurate a decade ago. Hence, the book contributes
more to a historical understanding of women’s rights
in Israel than to an accurate understanding of the con-
temporary socio-legal gender reality. This is a problem
that affects all academic texts presenting statistics that
change over time. A frequently updated Internet site
would thus serve the purpose much more effectively.
Unfortunately, despite the anachronism of the statistics
offered by the book, the picture they draw is as relevant
today as it was a few years ago.
Little change: Looking at the four years that have
gone by since the compilation of the data presented in
the book, has there been any change in the status of
Israeli women? Not much, and not for the better. The
lack of vision and planning is the same. Women’s status,
rights, and well-being continue to be determined by
economic and social trends, and since both the economy
and society are going downhill, so is women’s situation.
With the high rates of unemployment in Israel in recent
years, a growing number of women have lost their
jobs and income, and find themselves facing problems
related to health and housing. As working conditions
and the status of workers decline, more and more
women are losing basic social benefits and are working
under less favorable conditions. As the gap between
rich and poor in Israel widens, more and more women
are thrust to the bottom of the barrel, along with their
children. As violence spirals, more and more women are
murdered, beaten, and raped. And still, the progressive
laws designed to protect women are not being enforced.
Beyond that, in recent years women have begun to
suffer from a kind of backlash connected to their strug-
gle for advancement. Perhaps because Israeli women
have chalked up some small achievements in the late
20th century, the public (especially the male public) has
a sense not only that women enjoy full equality, but that
they have taken over certain fields (such as law). The
response (not always conscious, but fairly widespread)
is that women are promoted less and even pushed out of
positions of power and replaced by men, who have gone
back to conquering key job slots. One sees this in the
upper echelons of the civil service (the Justice Ministry
and General Attorneys’ offices are excellent examples),
in the army, and in private sectors.
The public has been slow to react. The Israeli gender
equality myth still reigns, and people refuse to look
beyond it. The public in general is not sensitive to
blatant instances of bias, exclusion, and silencing of
women. Let this small, telling example suffice; The
opinion pages of Haaretz, a platform for all kinds of
ideas in the public arena in Israel’s leading newspaper,
feature some 30 writers a week. Of these, maybe
two or three are women - in other words, less than
10 percent. This is a persistent and ongoing trend, well
representative of Israeli life.
Is there any ray of light? Hopefully, young Israeli
women, stronger and more assertive than their prede-
cessors, will be more clear-eyed, and less fearful and
shy in their demands to know and change things.
Orit Kamir
Hyland, Sabine: The Jesuit and the Incas. The
Extraordinary Life of Padre Bias Valera, S.J. Ann
Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2004. 269 pp-
ISBN 0-472-03041-8. Price: $ 18.95
Bias Valera was a Jesuit priest of mestizo descent
active in Peru during the second half of the 16th century-
Apparently a prolific writer, Valera’s work is mainly
known through chapters and paragraphs quoted by Inca
Garcilaso de la Vega, author of a famous early 17th
century history of the Inca. Like Valera, Garcilaso was
a mestizo, and his history of the Inca is known for its
extremely positive attitude towards them. According to
Garcilaso, many of his laudatory statements are based
on an Inca history written by Bias Valera. In her book
“The Jesuit and the Incas. The Extraordinary Life ol
Padre Bias Valera, S. J.,” Sabine Hyland now attempts a
detailed reconstruction of this author’s life and thinking-
The book begins with a biographical sketch of
Valera’s family background, youth, education, and work
as a Jesuit missionary (chapters 2 and 3). Hyland gives
a good summary of the available material, but does not
advance much beyond what has been known before. The
text also contains a number of questionable assumptions
when, for example, Valera’s mother is said to be of “Inca
ancestry” (20). “Inca ancestry” is a vague term - if
means Inca nobility, one wonders why the title “dona
was not used for her. Hyland also offers conjectures
about the personality of Valera’s mother based on he1
own positive evaluation of Valera, but as she admits-
nothing is really known about the woman except he'
name (20). She also introduces a brother of Bias Valet3
in terms that do not make clear if evidence for this
kinship exists or if he is only assumed to be a relatiye
(9, 22-31). The further account of Valera’s life as 3
priest would have profited from a broader approach, 1
example, from more details about the organisation ol t
Jesuit order, the education of priests in the 16th centurY’
and missionary practices in Peru. t
In the centre of Hyland’s book, however, are o ^
Valera’s activities as a missionary, but his writings-
Anthropos 101
.2006
Rezensionen
283
main problem here is that so little of Valera’s texts
survived directly, as Hyland discusses in chapter 4.
As mentioned, Garcilaso used a manuscript by Valera
which he described as a “historia de aquel imperio” (Inca
Garcilaso de la Vega: Comentarios reales de los Incas;
libro 1, cap. 6 [1606]). A later Jesuit writer quotes from a
“Historia Occidentalis” which he attributes to Valera and
which might be identical to the book mentioned by Gar-
cilaso. Another 17th century Jesuit author, Juan Anello
Oliva, refers to a “Vocabulario,” apparently a distinct
Work which contained historical information and which
has also been lost. Finally, Hyland argues that the anony-
mous “Relación de las costumbres antiguas de los natu-
rales del Pirú” was written by Valera. The authorship of
Valera had been suggested before, and Hyland finds con-
ducing arguments for it. But on the whole it cannot be
overlooked that Hyland’s book discusses the thinking of
an author whose work is nearly completely lost. It only
survived in quotes and paraphrases of later writers or as
an anonymous manuscript whose authorship continues
to be disputed. Furthermore, Hyland does not manage to
Present the relationship between Valera and his possible
c°pyists in a manner that makes it easy to follow her ar-
guments. The whole chapter would have needed the ad-
dition of charts or tables to trace the connections Hyland
describes, especially since some of her statements seem
to be contradictory (compare p. 98 and p. 102 on what
Fernando Montesinos might have copied from Valera).
After presenting Valera’s writings, Hyland proceeds
to analyse his statements about Inca history and religion
and about the value of the Quechua language. Chapter 5
discusses an account of a long line of pre-Inca kings that
ls perhaps attributable to Valera, and then summarises
his
foil
opinions about the Inca empire and its rulers. The
owing chapter turns to Quechua and Valera’s views
about its usefulness as a language for the conversion
the Andean people. The chapter also treats the
^atements of Valera about the Inca writing system, the
not records or quipu. Hyland’s ultimate chapter about
ulera’s thinking deals with Inca religion, especially
the
las
views expressed by the author of the “Relación de
costumbres antiguas.” As Hyland acknowledges, this
dthor - probably Valera - describes Inca religion as a
Ature of Greco-Roman beliefs and Catholic practices
t^d organisation (82, 159). However, Hyland also tries
show that this account is not pure fantasy, but based
^ Andean religious practices. Since Valera’s positive
Ptction of the Inca was a rhetoric strategy in a political
ate about the nature and the rights of Andean people,
‘ . description of their culture and history is mostly
A.htious. At this point, but also in the chapters before,
ls not always evident if Hyland is aware of this.
be ^era s views about the Inca and their religion might
j,f °ne explanation for the problems he had in his later
10 ' As Hyland narrates in the eighth chapter, it has
been known that Valera was jailed and punished for
^ences supposedly related to his sexual misbehaviour.
aCc argues that the true reason for his punishment were
be ÜSaÜons of heretical thinking. This is not unlikely,
Use the ideas expressed in the “Relación” are
Antfi
r°Pos 101.2006
probably not completely orthodox. Furthermore, the
topics covered by Valera led him right in the middle of
political controversies about Spanish colonial rule and
the treatment of indigenous people. As Hyland shows,
religious and political authorities were suspicious of the
newly founded Jesuit order. Thus, it is not surprising
that Valera’s Jesuit superiors found his views of the Inca
dangerous and did their best to suppress them.
In Hyland’s view, Valera was undeservingly attacked
and, in a certain sense, martyred for his view of the
Inca culture and his defence of the Andean people. This
should be seen in the context of Hyland’s extremely pos-
itive evaluation of Valera which lets her to an uncritical
acceptance of his assertions. For example, no attempt
is made to question the “Relación”s statements about
its supposed sources, although they refer to manuscripts
and authors who are not known from any other contem-
porary text. Hyland calls this “intriguing” (88). Consid-
ering the close-knit intellectual networks of the period,
it is improbable that none of these texts was mentioned
or quoted by another author. Another example of Hy-
land’s uncritical approach is seen in a passage about
Valera’s missionary work in Cuzco where she concludes
that Valera “had inspired a deep love among the Inca
elites” (56). Very little evidence exists for this apart from
what the author of the “Relación” himself claims and
which might be explained as evidence of self-promotion
and perhaps self-deception. Nobody can know what
the Inca thought or felt, since they left no account of
their encounter with Valera. Such conjectures are better
avoided. It is even harder to accept statements like “[f]or
the breadth and vigor of his writings, Valera merits
comparison with the other great defender of the rights of
native Americans in the sixteenth century, Bartolomé de
las Casas” (3). In another instance, Valera is called one
of the “greatest thinkers and authors in early colonial
South America” (31). Anybody who read the “Relación
de las costumbres antiguas,” the only work of Valera that
apparently survived, will find it difficult to agree with
this. The book is neither intellectually convincing nor
has it a polemical force that might win its 16th century
or modern readers. Hyland’s assessment of Valera is an
exaggeration. It is not clear why Valera should stand
out among other 16th century authors, and is called
“extraordinary” (as in the title).
In the last two chapters, Hyland turns to a number
of manuscripts which appeared during the 1990s in a
private collection at Naples. The surprising claims of
these manuscripts focus on the life and work of Valera.
The manuscripts state that Valera did not, as supposed
until now, die in Spain in 1597, but that his death was
faked and that he returned to Peru and lived there under
an assumed name. Here he wrote the “Nueva Coronica
y Buen Gobierno,” an important manuscript about the
Inca and Spanish colonial rule (whose author is Felipe
Guarnan Poma de Ayala). Because of their unusual
nature and their appearance in a private collection,
the Naples manuscripts launched a controversy about
their authenticity which is not yet resolved. Hyland’s
standpoint in this debate is clear. She regards the
284
Rezensionen
manuscripts as genuine and devotes the last two chapters
of her books to recapitulate the arguments about them
and to discuss their content.
The nature of these manuscripts has already been
treated extensively elsewhere and will not be touched
here (see especially Francesca Cantù [ed.], Guarnan Po-
ma y Bias Valera. Tradición Andina e Historia Colonial.
Actas del Coloquio Internacional Instituto Italo-Latino-
americano, Rom, 29./30. September 1999. Rom 2001).
Hyland acknowledges that the Naples manuscripts are
problematic and, therefore, explains that “chapters 1-
8, describing Valera’s life and work, are based entirely
on material unrelated to the manuscripts from Naples”
(5, my emphasis). Such a neat separation does not work,
however. When Valera’s view of the quipu and his possi-
ble invention of a quipu script are reviewed, the section
does refer to the Naples documents (ch. 6: 134-149).
Here, Hyland regards the material from the manuscripts
as useful, but other contents are less believable, as, for
example, the claims about the authorship of the “Nueva
Coranica” which she regards as “lies” (234). On the
whole, in spite of her belief in the authenticity of the
manuscripts, she has a more balanced view of the Naples
documents than most of their defenders. However, Hy-
land’s decision to include them in her book underscores
that her approach to her topic could have been more
critical. Kerstin Nowack
Kapfer, Reinhard: Die Frauen von Maroua. Liebe,
Sexualität und Heirat in Nordkamerun. Wuppertal: Edi-
tion Trickster im Peter Hammer Verlag, 2005. 191 pp.
ISBN 3-7795-0033-7. Preis: € 19,90
Die Ankündigung eines Buches über “Die Frauen
von Maroua” hat mich neugierig gemacht. Im Internet
lese ich: “Den richtigen Mann zu finden, eine gute Ehe
zu führen - das bedeutet für die Frauen von Maroua in
Nordkamerun etwas ganz anderes als für uns. Reinhard
Kapfer entwirft nach jahrelangen Studien ein neues,
intensives Bild von afrikanischen Frauen, das sich nicht
mit gängigen Stereotypen bescheidet. Die Auskünfte
der Afrikanerinnen zum Thema Liebe, Gefühl und
Sexualität stellen unsere eigene Sicht in Frage”. Ich
verbringe einen erheblichen Teil meines Lebens in
Nordkamerun, und Maroua ist die Provinzhauptstadt, in
der ich bürokratische Erledigungen zu machen habe, in
der ich alles einkaufe, was auf den dörflichen Märkten
nicht zu finden ist, wo ich gerne mal in einem Fulbe-
Restaurant speise. Was schreibt ein Fachkollege über die
Frauen, mit denen ich dort zu tun habe?
Zunächst einmal musste ich feststellen, dass das
Buch nicht von den “Frauen von Maroua” handelt,
sondern von den “Fulbe-Frauen in Maroua”. Das ist
auch nach Kapfers eigener Darstellung nicht dasselbe.
“Für Maroua ... kann man ... auch von einem Amal-
gam sprechen, ... mit einer stärkeren Betonung des
fulbischen und islamischen Elements”, charakterisiert
er die Stadt (46). Doch lässt er fortan alle ethnischen
Gruppen unbeachtet, die seit der Fulbeisierung des Ge-
biets im 19. Jh. unter deren politische Herrschaft ge-
rieten. Dabei sind sie im Straßenbild deutlich sichtbar,
und ihre Anzahl wächst durch Stadtmigration stetig.
Wie groß ist also der Bevölkerungsanteil der Fulbe?
Ich erfahre, dass Maroua etwa 200.000 Einwohner -
Frauen, Männer, Kinder - zählt, aber nicht, wie sich
diese Bewohnerschaft ethnisch zusammensetzt. In Fuß-
note 3(13) werde ich in Bezug auf die “demographische
Entwicklung Marouas” auf den “Atlas de la Province
Extrême-Nord Cameroun” (von Christian Seignobos und
Olivier lyébi-Mandjek [Hrsg.], Paris 2000) verwiesen.
Ob dort die für die Thematik des Buches äußerst re-
levante ethnische Aufschlüsselung zu finden ist, weiß
ich nicht, denn diesen Atlas habe ich gerade nicht zur
Hand. Wenn Kapfer von den Marouanem oder Maroua-
nerinnen spricht, meint er ausschließlich die Fulbe bzw.
die Fulbe-Frauen. Die Frauen der zahlreichen ethnischen
Gruppen Nordkameruns, die ganze Stadtviertel Marouas
besiedeln, oder die mit Fulbe-Männem verheiratet sind,
bleiben ganz und gar unerwähnt.
Gern hätte ich gewusst, mit wem Kapfer seine Ge-
spräche geführt hat. In Kapitel 3 erfahre ich, dass er von
1994 bis 1998 mit Frau und Sohn in Maroua lebte, wobei
er damals nicht die Absicht hatte, sich “über ein gewis-
ses Allgemeines hinaus ... ethnologisch zu informieren,
geschweige denn zu forschen” (26). Nach einem Jahr be-
gann er dann doch Fulfulde zu lernen. Mehr gibt er nicht
über seine Ethnologentätigkeit preis. Bis zur letzten Sei-
te habe ich vergeblich zu erfahren versucht, wie viele
Männer und Frauen aus welchen sozialen Schichten und
Altersgruppen mit welchem Familienstatus, unter wel-
chen Bedingungen und an welchen Orten er eigentlich
interviewt hat, so dass er ein solch “intensives Bild von
afrikanischen Frauen” (siehe oben) entwerfen konnte-
Ein einziges Mal gibt eine Fußnote (Nr. 129) einen An-
haltspunkt: “Drei vierköpfige Familien, Mann, Frau, ei*1
Schulkind, ein Kleinkind, mit einem gemieteten Haus,
mit einer teilweisen Grundversorgung durch Hirse aus
dem Herkunftsdorf, habe ich dazu befragt, wobei ich
auf ca. 25.000 FCFA (= 37 €) [Einkommen] pro Monat
komme” (165). Das ist wahrhaftig kein aussagekräfh'
ges Sample, anhand dessen sich etwas über die Ein'
kommensverhältnisse oder das Verbraucherverhalten dei
Bevölkerung Marouas aussagen ließe. Zwar erhebt Kap'
fer nicht den Anspruch, das zu tun, aber damit fehlt sei'
nem neunten und letzten Kapitel über “Bedürfnisse” jcde
Grundlage. Er schreibt (170): “Die für mich entschei
dendste Veränderung in Maroua ist also die Zunahm6
von Konsumgütern und entsprechend das Auftauche11
des Kosumenten.” Ich frage mich, ob auch die Franc11
“konsumieren”, doch da lese ich auf der nächsten Seh6
“Für die Frauen sind es Stoffe, Körperpflegemittel.
Mobiltelefon - Dinge, die sie als schön und unabhäng1»
präsentieren ...” Eine solche immerhin in keiner Wei
einschränkend formulierte Aussage grenzt an Zynism11^
Die Frauen in Maroua, die ich kenne, wissen nicht. ^
sie das nötige Geld für Salz oder Hirse auftreiben s
len. Gewiss kann sich eine ganz kleine Minderheit
Mobiltelefon leisten; die sehe ich in den klimatisier
Büros der Cameroun Airlines oder der Banken arbei
oder auch nur rumhängen. Kapfer mag mit dieser k
101
2006
Anthropos
Rezensionen
285
sumierenden Schicht Umgang gehabt haben, aber ich
finde es sträflich, davon ausgehend zu verallgemeinern.
Kapfer differenziert auch nicht in Bezug auf die
Thematik, um die sich seine Aussagen zentrieren; Heirat
und Liebe. Da wird der femme libre ein ganzes Kapitel
gewidmet, in dem der Eindruck entsteht, als obliege es
der freien Entscheidung einer jeden Frau, ob sie von
ihrem Vater oder Bruder verheiratet werden oder als
Alleinstehende beliebige Männerbeziehungen pflegen
'volle. Letzteres klingt sehr viel attraktiver, zumal sich
diese Frauen - deren materialistische Gesinnung die
Männer beklagen - reichlich beschenken lassen; Fleisch,
Stoffe und eben alle Konsumgüter. “Als zeitweilige
Lebensstrategie gilt diese Lebensform der freien Frau
• • • hat eine Frau dieses freiere Leben kennen und
schätzen gelernt, kehrt sie - wieder geschieden - dazu
Zurück” (137), behauptet Kapfer erfahren zu haben.
Loch wo ist die Umfrage, aus der hervorgeht, wie viele
Muslimische) Männer bereit sind, eine Frau zu heiraten,
die “zeitweilig” “keine institutionalisierte legalisierte
Beziehung eingeht, somit über sich, über ihre Sexualität
Mi verfügt” (131). Welche Frau, die einmal derart
Lei” war, wäre dann bereit, sich später als Ehefrau
lrt einem Fulbe-Gehöft einsperren zu lassen? Viele
Mafa-Frauen begründen, keinen Fulbe oder Mandara
heiraten zu wollen, auch wenn sie bei ihm ausreichend
essen hätten, damit dass sie nicht völlig in ihrer
Bewegungsfreiheit beschnitten werden wollen.
. die herrschende Meinung in Maroua ist, dass es
ueute schwer ist, eine Heirat mit einer Jungfrau im phy-
Sl°logischen Sinne einzugehen, schlicht weil es keine
Jdehr gibt; sie alle kennen schon die Männer” (81 f.), hat
Mpfer gehört. Ich frage: Wessen Meinung herrscht hier?
Mpfer verwechselt (und das nicht nur hier) den Diskurs
ber eine Sache mit deren Wirklichkeit. Fragwürdig ist
^Uch die folgende Aussage; “Das [Hervorhebung von
' K-], sagte mir eine Frau und deutete auf ihren Schoß,
fef*en wir leicht ... für die Frau ist eine Beziehung be-
riedigend, wenn sie ihre ‘Bedürfnisse’ befriedigen kann
• Lnd auf meine Nachfrage, was damit gemeint sei...,
duZ°§ es sich immer auf Dinge wie Seife, Parfüm, Klei-
. §> die Miete etc., die sexuelle Befriedigung wurde
e genannt” (145). Ich finde es nicht schwer zu erraten,
^ Welchen Frauen Kapfer gesprochen hat. Allerdings
te er nicht die Lebenswelt von Prostituierten oder
LebtlSanen er s*e auC^ Se^eSentLch nennt) als die
V0renswelt “der Frauen von Maroua” ausgeben. Und
ty, Mem finde ich es unzulässig angesichts der stetig
Aifi Senc^en Aids-Gefahr auch in Maroua (das Thema
Uj-M Meibt übrigens bei allem Reden von freier Sexua-
von rfllig ausgesPart), hier einen progressiven Aspekt
dar ^rauenleben zu sehen, ja, es sogar als geeignet
und ü^tellen, “unsere eigene Sicht” von “Liebe, Gefühl
R,. ,Qualität” in Frage zu stellen, wie es auf dem
Rücken heißt.
, aca Mr Lektüre des Buches bleibt mir ein schaler
und geschmack. Da glaubt ein Mann, die Gefühle
Leb Endlichkeiten von Frauen zu kennen, in deren
ensvvelt er unmöglich eingetaucht sein kann.
Godula Kosack
Kasten, Erich (ed.): People and the Land. Pathways
to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia. Berlin; Dietrich Rei-
mer Verlag, 2002. 257 pp. ISBN 3-496-02743-6. Price:
€ 29,00
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Properties of Culture - Culture
as Property. Pathways to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia.
Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2004. 323 pp. ISBN
3-496-02768-1. Price: €39,00
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Rebuilding Identities. Pathways
to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia. Berlin: Dietrich Rei-
mer Verlag, 2005. 280 pp. ISBN 3-496-02778-9. Price:
€ 39,00
This truly impressive trilogy under the uniting theme
of “Pathways to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia,” con-
sistently and diligently edited and published by Erich
Kasten with Dietrich Reimer (Berlin), fills in all 860
pages with 39 self-contained contributions by as many
different authors from Russia/Siberia, Europe, and North
America. The foci of the trilogy’s volumes are the cul-
tural, social, and political processes that have occurred
among aboriginal peoples and residents of Siberia since
the collapse of the Soviet system in the early 1990s.
Some additional comparative input is also provided
by cases and discussions from northern Europe and
northwestern North America to add a northern pan-
circumpolar dimension (see list of contributions and map
in vol. 3: 6-8).
Erich Kasten, an ethnologist who has worked with
Sami in northern Sweden, First Nations in British
Columbia (Canada), and, since 1993, with aboriginal
peoples in Kamchatka, directed and coordinated the “Si-
birien Projektgruppe” (Siberia Research Group) between
2000 and 2002. This group was created at the Max
Planck Institute (MPI) for Social Anthropology that had
only recently been established in Halle/Saale in 1999.
Kasten, with the strong support of the MPI and drawing
from a constantly expanding and extensive international
network of cultural and social anthropologists working
in Siberia, organized two major conferences in 2000
and 2002 respectively. The presentations given at these
meetings and additional papers make up the contribu-
tions in this trilogy. Practically all research contributions
are based on recent fieldwork conducted by the authors
in Siberia and other regions of the circumpolar North.
The three volumes are structured similarly with an
introduction and epilogue and the body of contributions
organized by specific themes under the topical title of
each of the books. All individual contributions feature
extensive explanatory chapter endnotes and bibliogra-
phies with Russian titles transliterated and translated
into English. The English texts by authors of different
linguistic background were appropriately and consistent-
ly reviewed by the copy editors. Each volume, except,
unfortunately, vol. 1, has a detailed index, and the notes
on authors provide a useful context for the reader. Some
of the contributions are enhanced by visual materials
such as photos, diagrams, and maps; latter ones do not
always have the necessary scales or coordinates. The
size (13.5 x 20.5 cm) of the paperback edition makes
this set appealing to the reader and handy as gen-
Anth
r°P°s 101.2006
286
Rezensionen
eral reference material or textbooks. The publications
are also available in electronic form at <http://www.
Siberian- studies. org. >
The limitations of a book review do not allow
detailed referencing and assessment of each of the
many individual contributions. Still this reviewer will
highlight the salient points that are presented by the
each of the volumes and discuss the overall contribution
of the trilogy to the field of social sciences in the
circumpolar North and in post-Soviet Russia.
The trilogy’s first volume concentrates on issues
around “People and the Land,” in fact, continuing and
expanding the theme of understanding the intricate hu-
man-environmental interrelations, the timeless topic ex-
pounded so keenly by Franz Boas among the Inuit in
the Arctic and as he phrased it in the early 1880s, “the
plain relations between land and people.” Looking at
recent developments in post-Soviet Siberia this volume’s
papers are divided into three thematic chapters that
focus on (1) indigenous perception and knowledge of
the land, (2) on issues of property and power related
to the use of resources, and (3) on the links between
market reforms and nonmarket strategies in local com-
munities throughout northernmost Russia. There is an
emphasis among the authors on the changes that have
particularly emerged in reindeer herding communities
with expanding oil and gas extraction industries into
their regions. These rapid socioeconomic changes have
caused political and legal reactions among the peoples
and with the state that, in 1992, led to the jurisdictional
institution of “obshchina” or an autonomous aboriginal
socioeconomic unit based on territory (e.g., 2, 111 ff.).
The success and failure of this “unit” is discussed by
a number of authors. This compendium represents the
refreshing approach to research whose results had been
obtained from recent fieldwork carried out by Russian,
European, and North American scholars since the 1980s.
This book, published in 2002, thus became a publication
whose content and critical discussions surrounding it ral-
lied the diverse research community of social scientists
to take further steps towards constructive cooperation
across boundaries that earlier were strict and dividing
barriers in science.
The second volume, “Properties of Culture - Culture
as Property,” shifts the attention of the “Siberia Project”
to the definition of culture, then to the rights of own-
ership and to the question of identities, their content,
construction, and boundaries, a theme with Barthian
scope that then appears in the third volume to its full
extent (see below). This heftier book is a compilation
of contributions by 16 authors who now also include
aboriginal researchers and their views on culture as
property as well as contributions on cases from Alaska
and Norway. This book is divided into four chapters that
cover aspects of (1) imagined authenticities and complex
realities, (2) the legal protection of culture, (3) the role
of museums and cultural heritage, and (4) the politics of
culture and the surrounding ethnopolitical discourses. In
the “Introduction,” Erich Kasten sets the framework for
discussing the owning and sharing of cultural properties
questioning the application of Western concepts to other
contexts of perceived cultural ownership either individ-
ual, communal, or global (10 ff.). The thread of this
discussion is continued by Chris Hann in this volume’s
“Epilogue” (289-304) in which he stresses caution how
culture is conceived in relation to various forms of
property. It is considered that the term “world cultur-
al heritage” like “global human rights” is a dynamic
and very volatile concept that is in need of constant
reassessment and réévaluation as is made apparent by
the detailed contribution in this volume.
The third volume, “Rebuilding Identities,” is in-
deed the culmination in this trilogy. Ever since Fredrik
Barth’s seminal introduction to the compendium “Ethnic
Groups and Boundaries. The Social Organization of Cul-
tural Difference” (London 1969) have anthropologists
given considerable attention to the concept and construct
of individual and collective identities in culture contact.
The 12 contributions in this volume make it abundantly
clear that the discussion of identities and their cultural
socioeconomic, political, and legal content and defini-
tion is as diverse as ever. This is clearly expressed by
Joachim Otto Habeck who provides a thoughtful frame-
work for the discussion in the “Introduction” (9—26)-
The papers that follow it are organized under the head-
ings of (1) identities and northern worldviews, (2) sacred
places and spatial boundaries, (3) ethnic identities and
translocality, and, finally, (4) prospects of self-determi-
nation. In the “Epilogue” (237-260) Erich Kasten is
concerned with the “management of identity” by the
individual, the collective, or the public, the State, and,
last but not least, the anthropologist. In fact, coining
the title “Rebuilding Identities” implies that connections
exist with previous “identities” that were lost, destroyed,
or abandoned. Anthropologists are observers recording
what processes exist. People know what they are and
how they are seen and how “groups and boundaries
function in the dynamic process of human relations.
The editor of this trilogy, Erich Kasten, is to l6
congratulated for his persistence and perseverance t0
publish these volumes and establish the book series
“Siberian Studies” of which he serves as the general ed-
itor. Clearly, these volumes have contributed to expan
the anthropological literature based on highly qualm6
research in post-Soviet Siberia and in the circump0^1
North generally. Ludger Müller-Wd e
Ketan, Joseph: The Name Must Not Go DoW°'
Political Competition and State-Society Relations 1
Mount Hagen, Papua New Guinea. Suva: Universal
of the South Pacific, Institute of Pacific Studies, 20
438 pp. ISBN 982-02-0352-X. Price; $ 20.00 ^
Die vorliegende Monographie basiert auf einei
der australischen Universität Wollongong im Jahr I
angenommenen Dissertation. Sie thematisiert die
ven strukturellen und institutioneilen Veränderung611
Übergangs von der vorkolonialen Autonomie indig61^
Gesellschaften über die Kolonialepoche bis hin zur h
tigen souveränen Staatlichkeit, die sich in wenig61
101.20°6
Anthropos
Rezensionen
287
sieben Jahrzehnten seit der ersten Kontaktaufnahme im
Hochland von Papua-Neuguinea in und um die Stadt
Mount Hagen in der drittbevölkerungsreichsten Provinz
Western Highlands vollzogen haben. Gefragt wird nach
den politischen und sozialen Prozessen, die sich ergeben,
wenn westlich geprägte staatliche Systeme auf ethnisch
fragmentierte sog. akephale Gesellschaften ohne zen-
tralisierte politische Strukturen übertragen werden. Der
Autor präsentiert eine Studie der Interaktion von Staat
und Gesellschaft(en), die von miteinander konkurrieren-
den Legitimitäten und parallel existierenden moralischen
Welten geprägt ist. Ketan, selbst der lokalen Gruppe der
Kawelka zugehörig, analysiert “from the perspective of
an ‘insider’ who sometimes operates on the ‘outside,’
but is equipped with ‘academic Winkers’ with which
to ‘look in’ from the ‘outside’” (14). Er verwendet eine
interdisziplinäre Herangehensweise, die Erfahrungen so-
wohl der Ethnologie (insbesondere der Arbeiten Andrew
Stratherns seit Mitte der 1960er Jahre) als auch der
Politikwissenschaft (Bill Standishs Studien) aufgreift.
Ketan belegt die innovative Einbindung moderner
Paktoren in die von bemerkenswerter Widerstandsfähig-
st geprägten lokalen Werte, Ideologien und Institu-
tlQnen. Er identifiziert einen von den ethnischen Grup-
pen kreierten komplexen Megazyklus, der die tradierten
v°rkolonialen Arenen politischer Konkurrenz, den rezi-
proken Tausch von Wohlstand (moka) und den Krieg
ÜI* die modernen Sphären des wirtschaftlichen Engage-
ments und der staatlichen Parlamentswahlen erweitert.
einer atomisierten und feindlich gesinnten Umwelt
stellt moka, vergleichbar den institutionalisierten Sys-
ternen des tee in der Provinz Enga und des mok ink
lril Südlichen Hochland, Verbindungen zwischen Clans
^eher, die über die Verpflichtung zur höherwertigen
e§enleistung auf die Kontinuität sozialer Beziehungen
2lelen. Standen in vorkolonialer Zeit Muschelschalen
Schweine im Zentrum des Tausches, sind es heute
argeld, Rinder, Bier, Autos und moderne Waffen, ein
Usdruck kultureller Kontinuität als auch des Wandels.
Pfie Rivalität zwischen den 72 Sprachgruppen Ha-
^ns, deren Größe von der landesweit kleinsten (150
r .Glieder) bis zur zweitgrößten (200.000 Sprecher)
lcht, wird immer wieder entfacht durch das Prinzip
r Gruppensolidarität und Reputation (“the name must
§o down”) sowie eine Ideologie der Egalität, die
v r Individuen und Gruppen den Kontext zur Erlangung
jQn Prestige, Macht und Einfluss abgeben. Der Ko-
^lalepoche weist Ketan hier eine demokratisierende
irkung zu der traditionell von “big-men” mono-
oft'1Slerte m°ka-Tausch nun allen Gruppenmitgliedem
Ser)611 Ste^t- Neben diesem besonderen Führertypus, des-
cle*1 ^*tatus auf persönlichen Qualitäten und dem Vorteil
^hl Vererbung beruhte, lokalisiert er heute eine Viel-
en udifferenzierter Typen, die von (Teile der nationa-
le Wirtschaft kontrollierenden) “super big-men” über
* Stader. militärische Strategen, despotische Kom-
f/^äte, Professionelle (Anwälte, Beamte) bis zu er-
cier'enen Politikern reichen, wobei letztere ihren Erfolg
Un(j^estbchen Bildung, der Verteilung staatlicher Mittel
er Unterstützung krimineller Banden verdanken.
Amh
Die Geschichte der Hagen Gesellschaften erscheint
als unsteter Zyklus zwischen Waffenstillstandsperioden
und traumatischen Konflikten. Der erzwungenen kolo-
nialen Befriedung in den 1940er Jahren folgten Jahr-
zehnte der Öffnung, in der marktwirtschaftliche Ele-
mente wie Cash crops und Plantagen sowie moderne
politische Strukturen in die eigene Lebenswelt inkor-
poriert wurden. Die 1980er Jahre dokumentieren die
Rückkehr der großen Kriege, die mit Landknappheit,
wachsender Unsicherheit, verringerten Kapazitäten der
Polizei und generell einer Abnahme sozialer Kontrol-
le korrespondieren. Die schnelle Verbreitung moderner
Waffen durch Politiker hat zu einer dramatisch veränder-
ten Kriegsführung mit hohen Verlusten an Menschen-
leben geführt. Statt offener Feldschlachten mit ritu-
ell regulierten Abläufen und Akteuren dominieren nun
Überfälle und Hinterhalte, die von Waffenkundigen ohne
Regeln ausgeführt werden. Vergleichbar der Intensität
von Kriegen verlaufen auch die Parlamentswahlen in
der Region, wobei sich hier Allianzen und Netzwerke
als weit weniger stabil erweisen als bei Konflikten,
welche die Vernichtung oder Vertreibung von beteilig-
ten Gruppen als ständig gegenwärtige Gefahr implizie-
ren. Schlüsselelemente dieser selektiven Interaktion mit
dem Staat sind auch hier das Gruppenprestige sowie
der Zugang zu knappen staatlichen Ressourcen. Ko-
operationen für einen bestimmten Kandidaten werden
mit Drohungen und Zwang durchgesetzt, Abweichler
bestraft, vertrieben oder ermordet, womit sich Wahlen
nach Ketan als “bizarre form of democracy at gunpoint”
(254) und damit als Farce erweisen. Den Unterschied
zum friedlichen Wahlverlauf im Flachland markiert der
kontrastierende kulturelle Hintergrund. Der Gruppenzu-
sammenhalt und das Niveau politischer Integration und
Konkurrenz sind im Hochland weit ausgeprägter und
intensiver.
Hinsichtlich der künftigen Entwicklung und damit
der Frage nach der Koexistenz bzw. dem Fortbestehen
beider Systeme gibt sich Ketan eher pessimistisch, ohne
allerdings Alternativen aufzuzeigen. So sei der Zyklus
mittlerweile viel zu groß, um auf Dauer nachhaltig fort-
bestehen zu können. Die Ambitionen von Führern und
die beständigen Machtkämpfe unterminierten die Stabi-
lität der Gruppen (so wie sie auch zum Bankrott vieler
Plantagen geführt haben). Eine Hauptschwäche sieht er
in der politischen Kultur, die auf wenigen führenden
Akteuren (Politiker und Geschäftsleute) beruht und den
Rest der Bevölkerung über klientelistische Netzwerkbe-
ziehungen einbindet und manipuliert, ein Prozess der
Tribalisierung, bei dem Führer den schwach institu-
tionalisierten Staat weiter unterminieren und Identität,
Loyalität und Sicherheit nur über die eigene (starke)
ethnische Basis zu gewährleisten sind. Die abschließen-
de Warnung Ketans ist deshalb nachzuvollziehen: “In
seeking to Support their own name, Hagen groups, and
other strong groups elsewhere in the country, have to be
aware of the danger that their efforts could help bring
down the ‘name’ of the whole country” (357).
Die Studie zählt zum Innovativsten, was in den
letzten Jahren in den Sozialwissenschaften zu Papua-
lr°pos 101.2006
288
Rezensionen
Neuguinea entstanden ist, ein Muss für alle diejenigen,
die sich mit der politischen Entwicklung und generell
der gesellschaftlichen Dynamik des Landes befassen.
Roland Selb
Knaap, Gerrit, and Heather Sutherland: Monsoon
Traders. Ships, Skippers, and Commodities in Eigh-
teenth-Century Makassar. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2004.
269 pp. ISBN 90-6718-232-X. (Verhandelingen van het
Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde,
224) Price: € 30,00
Seit langen Jahren befasst sich die Historikerin Hea-
ther Sutherland mit dem maritimen Handel in Süd-Sula-
wesi. Gemeinsam mit dem ebenfalls auf den Seehandel
Indonesiens spezialisierten Historiker Gerrit Knaap legt
sie nun eine Studie vor, die auf der Grundlage einer
enormen Menge statistischer Daten ein bis ins kleinste
Detail recherchiertes Bild des Seehandels im kolonia-
len Makassar des IS.Jhs. liefert. Dieser Zeitraum gilt
innerhalb der südostasiatischen Geschichte als entschei-
dend für politische und ökonomische Entwicklungen,
und zwar sowohl im Kontext globaler Einwirkungen
als auch hinsichtlich politischer Strategien einheimischer
Herrscher im Zusammenspiel mit der kolonialen Büro-
kratie.
Makassar, das aufgrund seiner zentralen geogra-
fischen Lage schon lange eine bedeutende Rolle in
der Seefahrt des Archipels gespielt hatte, erlebte im
17. Jh. eine Blütezeit als Umschlagplatz im Handel mit
Gewürzen aus den Molukken. Nach der Unterwerfung
durch die Holländer 1669 setzte indes eine Periode
der Krise ein. Die “Verenigde Oost-Indische Compa-
gnie” (VOC) war vor allem aus strategischen Gründen
bemüht, vor Ort die Kontrolle des Handels zu wahren,
während die Hafenstadt selbst aus Sicht der kolonialen
Verwaltung finanziell keinen Gewinn abwarf. Gleich-
zeitig siedelten sich dort jedoch zahlreiche Händler und
Seefahrer unterschiedlichster Herkunft an, die um den
Aufbau einer Existenz bemüht waren. Die Aktivitäten
dieser Siedlergemeinschaft im Verlauf des 18. Jhs. -
zwischen wirtschaftlicher Eigeninitiative und den limi-
tierenden Zwängen der kolonialen Bürokratie - bilden
den Gegenstand des vorliegenden Buches.
Obwohl der Bezug auf weitere geografische Räume
und größere zeitliche Tiefe hier und da angesprochen
wird, weisen die Autoren ausdrücklich darauf hin, dass
die Studie einen gezielt engen Fokus aufweist. Es han-
delt sich dabei im Wesentlichen um das Zusammenstel-
len umfangreicher Datenmengen über den registrierten
Seehandel in Makassar. Die Hauptquellen, die dazu
herangezogen wurden, sind die Register der jeweili-
gen Hafenmeister, die für die Zeiträume 1717-34 und
1766-97 erhalten sind. Sie liefern über diese Jahrzehnte
hinweg systematische Datenserien und eröffnen somit
einen genauen Einblick in die Strukturen und Entwick-
lungsprozesse des privaten Handels (d. h. des Nicht-
VOC-Handels). Die Register enthalten unter anderem
Angaben zu Ein- und Auslaufdaten der Schiffe, Her-
kunfts- und Zielorten, Herkunft der Kapitäne, Schiffsty-
pen sowie genaue Informationen über die Art und Men-
ge der transportierten Güter. Für den Umgang mit der
ungeheuren Fülle an Zahlenmaterial bietet sich zunächst
eine quantitative Analyse an, die im Anschluss eine
Interpretation nahe legt. Knaap und Sutherland lassen
sich jedoch, angesichts der vielfältigen methodischen
Probleme berechtigter Weise, nicht zu weitreichenden
theoretischen Folgerungen verleiten, sondern konstru-
ieren aus dem hochgradig spezifischen Material nach
eigenen Angaben bewusst nichts anderes als eine weitere
Quelle bzw. Materialsammlung, die aufgrund der ange-
strebten Datentransparenz anderen Fachkollegen eigene
Rückschlüsse ermöglichen soll.
An die in der Einleitung getroffenen Ausführungen
zu historischem Rahmen und Methodik schließen sich
vier Kapitel sowie - als umfangreichstes Teilstück des
Bandes - ein Appendix mit dem tabellarisch zusam-
mengefassten Zahlenmaterial an. Das zweite Kapitel
behandelt die politischen Rahmenbedingungen für die
Seehandelsaktivitäten im 17. und 18. Jh., die geprägt
waren von Interessenkonflikten zwischen den lokalen
Fürsten und den kolonialen Machthabern. Die instabilen
Verhältnisse beeinflussten den Handel deutlich, zudem
standen privater Handel und derjenige der VOC, die
bemüht war, ihr Gewürzhandelsmonopol mit den Mo-
lukken aufrechtzuerhalten, in starker Konkurrenz zu-
einander. Die systematische Datenpräsentation beginn1-
in Kapitel 3, in dem die unterschiedlichen Schiffsty'
pen beleuchtet werden sowie eine erste Analyse der
heterogenen ethnischen Herkunft von Kapitänen und
Mannschaften vorgenommen wird. Interessant ist hier>
dass im Verlauf des IS.Jhs. eine “Lokalisierung” von
Schiffstypen im Sinne einer kontinuierlichen Zunahme
von Sulawesi-typischen Mustern vonstatten ging, die
auch Auswirkungen auf Handel snetzwerke hatte. Däne'
ben setzte eine wachsende Dominanz von chinesischen
Kapitänen ein, die den angesiedelten Niederländern und
auch den indigenen Händlern mehr und mehr Marktseg'
mente entrissen.
Von besonderer Bedeutung für den Untersuchungsg6'
genstand sind naheliegender Weise die Güterflüsse (K-3'
pitel 4). Akribisch kategorisierten die Autoren Produkte
und Produktmengen, wobei Nahrungsmittel, Textilie11,
zahllose Arten von Handwerksprodukten und schließüc 1
auch Sklaven zu berücksichtigen und in Beziehung 211
ihren Ursprungs- und Zielregionen zu setzen waren.
ließ sich nachweisen, dass sich die Muster von I111
porten und Exporten im Laufe der Jahrzehnte perma
nent veränderten, woraus sich wiederum allgemeine1”6
Tendenzen innerhalb der makroökonomischen Prozess6
ableiten lassen. Diese Informationen werden in Kap1
tel 5 einer noch tiefergehenden Analyse in Gestalt vo11
spezifischen Fallstudien unterzogen.
Was sagt uns nun diese äußerst mühselige AusWßf
tung unzähliger Zahlen und anderer Informationen a
einem einzigen Umschlagplatz von Waren im kolonia
Indonesien? Zweifelsohne handelt es sich hier in ers
Linie um ein Buch für Regionalspezialisten. Audi
sehr kurz gehaltene Conclusio unternimmt nur
einßil
dezenten Versuch, die aus den Daten gewonnenen
Anthropos 101
pol'
.2006
Rezensionen
289
gerungen zu breiter angelegten Theorien in Relation zu
setzen. Dies macht jedoch durchaus Sinn. Zunächst ein-
mal modifizieren die Ergebnisse das bisherige Bild der
maritimen Geschichte Indonesiens im 18. Jh. Einerseits
Wusste man bislang wenig bis überhaupt nichts über
Wachstumsraten des maritimen Handels in historischer
Zeit; hier hat die vorliegende Studie einen bedeutenden
Beitrag zur Wirtschaftsgeschichte des Archipels geleis-
tet. Andererseits ergeben sich auch Hinweise auf eine
neue Sicht des europäisch-kolonialen Einflusses auf den
südostasiatischen Femhandel. Im Unterschied zu Wa-
ren wie Pfeffer, Kaffee und Zucker, für deren Export
Primär die Nachfrage in Europa verantwortlich gewesen
War, zeigt sich anhand der in Makassar umgeschlagenen
Waren, dass die europäische Nachfrage keineswegs den
alleinigen Motor für einen florierenden Handel in Indo-
aesien darstellte. Das vermeintlich typisch europäische
dynamische Element war also im frühen kolonialen
Kontext nicht die entscheidende steuernde Kraft des
Bändels. Insofern ergibt sich eine methodisch exakt be-
gründete Bestätigung der These van Leurs, der in seinem
Meilenstein “Indonesian Trade and Society” bereits vor
50 Jahren Entsprechendes formuliert hatte. Als bedeut-
samste Folgerung lässt sich also festhalten, dass die Ge-
Schichte Indonesiens in dieser Periode weit über die von
den Historikern erschöpfend untersuchte Rolle der VOC
hinausgeht. Hier liegt ein Beitrag vor, der die Analyse
der weltweiten ökonomischen Transformation im 18. Jh.
arri eine regionale Fallstudie bereichert. Während diese
''ansformation für Europa reichhaltig dokumentiert ist,
kann erst der Vergleich mit historischen Prozessen in
den ehemals kolonisierten Regionen aufzeigen, welche
arallelen und Unterschiede zu europäischen Verhält-
j^ssen vorliegen und wo die Ursprünge der wirtschaft-
eten Dominanz Europas möglicherweise zu suchen
^nd. Somit kann ein Werk wie das vorliegende einen
eürag dazu leisten, das vielleicht essentiellste Problem
i o “WtiU XWÜLV11, UUJ V IvllvlVlH
er neueren Geschichte zu entschlüsseln.
Martin Rössler
Uv Knauft, Bruce M. (ed.): Critically Modern. Alterna-
r es> Alterities, Anthropologies. Bloomington: Indiana
aiversity Press, 2002. 329 pp. ISBN 0-253-21538-2.
riCe: £ 16.95
Vq Bas Moderne, Fortschrittliche, aktuell Geltende ist
Wirtallem in Wissenschaft und Forschung, im Kultur-,
in «»chafts- und Sozialbereich gefragt, lässt aber auch
Sc,Zunehmendem Maße Zweifel an der Richtigkeit ver-
, ledener diesbezüglicher Entwicklungstendenzen auf-
in h ITlen‘ Man ^en ätzten Jahren zurückhaltender
es er Bewertung des “Modernen” geworden; z. B. wäre
Indf°blematisch’ es als Gegensatz zum Traditionellen,
'gcnen und Nichtwestlichen zu verstehen.
H0l^.lcherlich versucht man vielerorts, ein höheres öko-
dest1SC^es un(J soziales Niveau anzustreben, es zumin-
§lei * e*ni§en Bereichen westlichen Standards anzu-
damit en- Oft war man dabei der Ansicht, dass die
len Verbundenen ökonomischen Prozesse einen globa-
’ Utllfizierenden Charakter haben, die die ethnischen
Vh
r°P°s 101.2006
und kulturellen Eigenheiten weitgehend verdrängen oder
aufheben werden. Dies traf jedoch nicht zu, eher fand
das Gegenteil statt (1 f.); es kam nämlich zur Entwick-
lung von sog. alternativen, parallelen, einheimischen,
subalternen, multiplen, anderen oder schlechthin “ei-
genen” Modernitäten (modernities), wobei es bei der
betreffenden Bevölkerung zu einer viel stärkeren Aus-
formung des Volkseigenen, der ethnischen Spezifität und
des Selbstbewusstseins kam. Man wollte modern wer-
den, jedoch auf eigene Art, unter Berücksichtigung der
eigenen Kultur und Tradition (105-107).
Die Beiträge in dieser Gemeinschaftsarbeit enthal-
ten nicht nur kritische Reflexionen über das gemeinhin
geltende “Moderne”, sondern auch alternative Vorstel-
lungen und Vorschläge zu diesem, die insbesondere in
den letzten Jahrzehnten in der einschlägigen Literatur
und während Konferenzen erörtert wurden. Bestimmend
jedoch für die Herausgabe dieses Buches waren nicht
so sehr akademische Überlegungen, sondern, wie B. M.
Knauft bemerkt, vor allem seine diesbezüglichen Er-
fahrungen zur Zeit seiner Feldforschungen bei den Ge-
busi in Papua-Neuguinea, deren Willen zur kulturellen
und ökonomischen Innovationen der Herausgeber immer
wieder beobachten konnte.
Als besonders wichtig erachten die Autoren der Bei-
träge eine kritische Auseinandersetzung mit verschiede-
nen gängigen Modernitätsbegriffen vor allem im sozia-
len, ökonomischen und kulturellen Bereich im Zuge der
dominierenden, globalen Entwicklungstendenzen westli-
chen Gepräges. Aber man wollte es dabei nicht bewen-
den lassen, sondern versuchte auch, die Modernisierung
und Fortschrittsförderung in verschiedenen Ländern als
multifaktorielle, differenzierte und tiefgreifende Ent-
wicklung darzustellen (3).
Derartige Modernisierungsprozesse, wenn sie nicht
zerstörerisch sein sollen, sind nicht unproblematisch,
besonders wenn die jeweiligen sozialen und kulturellen
Gegebenheiten berücksichtigt und ideologisch bedingte
Voreingenommenheiten vermieden werden sollen, z. B.
B. M. Knaufts Bewertung der Karl Marxschen Rolle
in der Entwicklung der modernen Gesellschaft dürfte
nicht jedem entsprechen (9), oder auch seine Ausführun-
gen zugunsten des alternativ Modernen (24-42) sind
in einigen Teilpassagen diskutabel und bedürfen einer
theoretischen Vertiefung und Überdenkung.
Die Verwirklichung des alternativ Modernen in einer
konkreten Stammesgesellschaft versucht dieser bekann-
te Neuguineaforscher in seinem interessanten Beitrag
“Trials of the Oxymodern” (105-143) anschaulich dar-
zulegen, dem zum großen Teil die Ergebnisse seiner
Feldforschungen bei den dortigen Eingeborenen zugrun-
de liegen, wo er die Auseinandersetzung zwischen dem
eindringenden globalen “Modernen” und den bisher tra-
ditionellen Werten und Erfahrungen, aber auch die ra-
sche Akzeptanz des Neuen und Fortschrittlichen und
deren Verbindung mit dem bisherigen Kulturerbe zu
einer eigenständigen, lokalen “Modernität” beobachten
konnte. Es waren für die Insulaner Neuerfahrungen ver-
schiedenster Art, z. B. sozialer, politischer, religiöser
und wirtschaftlicher Natur, die man mit der Tradition zu
290
Rezensionen
verbinden, verarbeiten und neu zu gestalten versuchte.
Dieses Bestreben, sich in verschiedenen Bereichen zu
modernisieren, ist für die Gebusi in der postkolonialen
Zeit ein zentrales Anliegen.
Ebenso befasst sich R. J. Fester in seinem informati-
ven theoretisch-kritischen Beitrag mit der Modernitäts-
problematik auf Neuguinea. Die Wahl dieser Kulturre-
gion kommt nicht von ungefähr, galt dies Land doch
noch unlängst als “natürliches Laboratorium” wegen
seiner ethnisch-kulturellen Mannigfaltigkeit und relati-
ven Distanz zur westlichen Kultur (68). Man kann hier
darum fast im Zeitraffertempo verschiedene Modemi-
sierungsprozesse verfolgen, die in der westlichen Welt
in größeren Zeiträumen stattfanden. H. Wardlow geht
in ihrem interessanten Artikel unter anderem der Frage
nach, inwieweit die Geschlechtszugehörigkeit bei den
Melanesiern, insbesondere bei den Huli auf Neugui-
nea, den Modernisierungsprozess beeinflusst. Anhand
kenianischer Verhältnisse versucht I. Karp zu zeigen,
dass “der Fortschritt und die Modernität einander be-
dingen”, aufeinander einwirken; wer das eine erwähnt,
denkt impliziter auch an das andere (83 f.). Aber Ent-
wicklung, Fortschritt, Modernisierung können auch als
politische Richtlinie und Ideologie verstanden, ja selbst
missbraucht werden. Darum hängt viel vom Charakter
und der Persönlichkeit der dafür verantwortlichen Men-
schen ab.
Im zweiten Teil dieses Buches, der stärker kritisch
und polemisch hinsichtlich der Modernität ausgerichtet
ist, machen die Verfasser auf verschiedene Probleme
aufmerksam, die bei einer Analyse des Fortschritts, des
Entwicklungsprozesses und der alternativen Modernität,
besonders in Entwicklungsländern, entstehen. L. Rofel
befasst sich in ihrem theoretisch wichtigen Beitrag mit
der prinzipiellen Frage, was unter dem Begriff “modern”
verstanden wird, welche konkrete Vorstellungen und
Leitziele damit verbunden werden, was mit dem Fort-
schritt erreicht werden soll (175-193). Dass das Mo-
derne, auch als lokale Variante verstanden, auf vielfache
Weise auch auf die Sprache einwirkt, konnte D. A. Spi-
tulnik anhand ihrer Forschungsergebnisse in Sambia, be-
sonders bei den Bemba, überzeugend nachweisen (194-
219). M.-R. Trouillot dagegen geht von der Erkenntnis
aus, dass das Bestreben modern zu sein implizit die
Andersartigkeit der “anderen” beinhaltet, was zu einem
guten Teil mit der hohen Selbstbewertung des eigenen
Modernen in der westlichen Kultursphäre einhergeht.
Eine diskursive, mitunter recht kritische Auseinan-
dersetzung mit der Modernitätsproblematik, die sich
auch auf die bisherigen Artikel erstreckt, enthält der
dritte Teil dieses Buches. Die Ausführungen von D. L.
Donhain, J. D. Kelly und J. Friedman, deren Ansich-
ten hinsichtlich dieser Problematik recht unterschiedlich
sind, zeigen hinlänglich, dass es bezüglich des Mo-
dernen und seiner lokalen Varianten noch viele offene
Fragen gibt und dass man von allgemein akzeptablen
Lösungen auf diesem Gebiet noch entfernt ist.
Die Analysen und Ausführungen in diesem Buche,
denen vielseitige kulturhistorische, völkerkundliche, lin-
guistische und ökonomische Forschungsergebnisse zu-
grunde liegen, zeigen, wie wichtig ein prinzipielles Ge-
samtüberdenken der Modernitätsproblematik, vor allem
des damit zusammenhängenden Begriffsapparates und
der Kriterien des Modernen und seiner regionalen Ab-
wandlungen ist. Sicherlich bieten die vorliegenden Bei-
träge eine wertvolle Einführung in viele Teilbereiche
auf diesem schwierigen Gebiet und eine gut fundierte
Ausgangs- und Diskussionsbasis bei Behandlung dieses
Fragenkreises, obwohl deren Verfasser zum Teil recht
unterschiedliche Auffassungen vertreten (22). Ein all-
gemeiner Einführungsbeitrag über das Moderne, dessen
Prinzipien, Kriterien, Grundlagen und Ziele, seine Ver-
bindung mit Fortschritt und Kultur, hätte einige Proble-
me klären helfen können.
Anerkennend soll bemerkt werden, dass die Verfasser
die besprochenen Probleme oft anhand ihres empiri-
schen Forschungsmaterials lebensnah erörterten und ihre
Grundanliegen klar herausarbeiteten. Beeindruckend ist
auch ihre Objektivität, selbst kritische Einstellung zu
manchen diesbezüglichen Meinungen und ihre Klar-
stellung, dass wir es hier mit einem vielschichtigen,
schwierigen Fragenkomplex zu tun haben, der noch
viele Probleme offen lässt.
Die einzelnen Beiträge sind bibliographisch gut do-
kumentiert; die zitierte Literatur ist meist neueren Da-
tums. Da diese im Anschluss an jeden Artikel steht,
sind Wiederholungen unvermeidbar. Es sind auch et-
liche Illustrationen vorhanden, nicht alle sind von gu-
ter Qualität. Ein ziemlich ausführliches Personen- und
Sachregister befindet sich am Ende des Buches.
Es ist ein interessantes, lesenswertes Buch, das so-
wohl hinsichtlich des gebotenen Forschungsmaterials
aus verschiedenen Ländern, wie auch der kriti scheu
Analysen und Ausführungen recht informativ ist. Es
enthält viele Denkanregungen und weist auf neue Ent'
Wicklungen auf diesem Gebiet hin. Von besonderem
Nutzen könnte seine Lektüre für Kulturanthropologem
Entwicklungshelfer und völkerkundlich orientierte Feld'
forscher sein. Franciszek M. RosihsD
Koch-Grünberg, Theodor: Die Xingu-Expediti°U
(1898-1900). Ein Forschungstagebuch. Hrsg, von ME
chael Kraus. Köln: Böhlau Verlag, 2004. 507 pp. ISB^
3-412-08204-X. Preis: €99,00
En la historia de la antropología se unen a veces
felices coincidencias a voluntades concretas: muestra de
ello es el presente tomo, que recoge la transenpci011
de los diarios del primer viaje a América del Sur de
Theodor Koch-Grünberg, que consignaba por escrito l°s
sucesos cotidianos incluso en condiciones tan adversas
como las de este viaje. A su vez, su familia conservó sas
manuscritos y fotos, que donó al Instituto de Antropd0
gía de la Universidad de Marburgo y a su director, M^
Münzel. A iniciativas de éste, la Sociedad Cientínc,
Alemana (Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft), hnanC
entre los años 1999 y 2002 un proyecto de elabora^0
y publicación de parte de la copiosa herencia ined1
de Koch-Grünberg. Esta comprende - además de
diarios de los tres viajes - una amplia corresponderá
Anthropos 101
.2006
Rezensionen
291
manuscritos de lecciones universitarias y conferencias,
material lingüístico y una enorme cantidad de fotos.
Responsable de realizar la organización e investigación
del material fue el antropólogo Michael Kraus, el editor
de este tomo.
En 1898, a los 27 años, Koch-Grünberg viajó a la
región del Alto Xingu, en el oriente del Brasil, como
miembro de una expedición financiada por Herrmann
Meyer. Esta expedición es un eslabón en la cadena de
empresas similares alemanas al Brasil y en especial al
Xingu, que se sitúa cronológicamente entre las ante-
riores de Karl von den Steinen (1884 y 1887-88) y las
Posteriores de Max Schmidt (1900-1901, 1910, 1914,
i926-28). Objetivo de la misma era reunir colecciones
ergológicas y tomar medidas antropométricas de indivi-
duos de las diferentes etnias de la región; una región que
Se caracteriza por ser el territorio de etnias que presentan
una gran homogeneidad cultural aunque pertenecen a fa-
milias lingüísticas distintas (caribe, aruak, tupí), además
de los trumai, cuya lengua sigue considerándose como
Oslada.
La decisión del editor de insertar al comienzo del li-
br° el contrato de trabajo acordado entre Meyer y Koch-
Grünberg es muy acertada, ya que muestra las condi-
Cl°nes en las cuales el joven etnógrafo participó en la
expedición: entre otras cosas, debía obediencia absoluta
a Meyer, sin cuyo permiso explícito no debía dar confe-
J^ucias ni publicar ningún resultado del viaje. Debía co-
lorar con aquél en la recolección de cultura material,
pero le estaba prohibido coleccionar para sí mismo.
Koch-Grünberg describe la travesía en barco, algunas
Particularidades de Buenos Aires, Asunción y Cuyabá
potros sucesos previos a la partida de la expedición.
esde sus inicios, ésta se enfrenta a graves obstáculos,
parte debido a las particularidades de la orografía
aPidos y cataratas de los ríos), en parte por haber
Se§uido un rumbo errado. Además, el tamaño de la
®xpedición (la partida desde Cuyabá se hace con más de
fie tienta muías cargueras) era un obstáculo para la mo-
^ 'dad. Las desventuras de los viajeros son incontables:
v Ven atacados por brotes graves de malaria, deben
Se ncer numerosos rápidos en el río Ronuro, en los cuales
dan más de treinta hundimientos de canoas, con las
e nsecuentes pérdidas de equipo, material etnográfico y
(je eres necesarios para la supervivencia. Si a los brotes
y P^udismo y otras enfermedades se suma el hambre
de^° enc°ntrar indígenas, no puede extrañar que tantas
^ sventuras influyeran negativamente las relaciones hu-
de, as; ^0r 1° demás, la personalidad irascible e incluso
estas^Ca ^e^er no era precisamente un paliativo a
la f de5racias- Valga como ilustración un sólo suceso:
6stán^na ^Ue s*ente Koch-Grünberg, al saber que por fin
Por Cerca de un asentamiento bakairí, se ve frustrada
meinSu jefe» quien le ordena permanecer en el campa-
,*(136, (Aunque no lo escribe explícitamente, es
qüe a e 9Ue ni siquiera la lectura de la Divina Comedia,
c0n, evaba consigo y en la cual leía esporádicamente,
ara a Koch-Grünberg en este trance.)
Cu era de contactos esporádicos en la región de
a con algunos bororo y apiaká, gran parte de la
Anth
ruta que siguen los conduce por regiones deshabitadas.
Cuando por fin encuentran a los indígenas del Xingu
- entre otros, los trumai, kamayurá y mehinaku -, la
expedición se halla en sus últimos estertores, y los
esporádicos y superficiales encuentros alcanzan solo
para, por medio del trueque, reunir una colección de
cultura material. (Este fue el único resultado obtenido,
ya que de esta empresa no surgieron prácticamente
publicaciones.)
Son sus viajes y sus obras posteriores, de los que
surgieron monografías clásicas, los que otorgaron a
Koch-Grünberg una posición central en la etnografía
amazónica. Entre los años 1903 a 1905 recorrió nue-
vamente el Alto Río Negro y sus afluentes (Koch-
Grünberg, Zwei Jahre unter den Indianera. Reisen in
Nordwestbrasilien 1903/1905; 2 Bde. Graz 1967 [1909/
1910]). De su estadía en Brasil y Venezuela de 1911
a 1913 surgió nuevamente otro clásico de la literatu-
ra antropológica (Koch-Grünberg, Von Roroima zum
Orinoco. Ergebnisse einer Reise in Nordbrasilien und
Venezuela in den Jahren 1911-1913; 3 Bde. Berlin;
Stuttgart 1916-1923).
Luego de regresar del tercer viaje, Koch-Grünberg
es nombrado profesor en la Universidad de Friburgo
y desde 1915 hasta 1924 se desempeñó como director
científico del Museo Linden de Antropología, en Stutt-
gart. Koch-Grünberg renunció a esta función (poco antes
de que caducara por falta de presupuesto), con el fin
de formar parte de la expedición del norteamericano
A. Hamilton Rice. En octubre de 1924 murió de un
ataque de malaria, enfermedad que había ya padecido en
sus expediciones anteriores, en la población brasileña de
Vista Alegre, en las orillas del Rio Branco. Fue enterrado
en el cementerio de Manaos.
Además de un artículo de Michael Kraus, en el que
traza un perfil biográfico de Koch-Grünberg y analiza los
pormenores de la expedición, otras dos contribuciones
de especialistas en la historia y la etnografía brasileñas
completan el presente tomo. Mark Münzel proporciona
una compacta y clara perspectiva diacrònica de la in-
vestigación en la zona, desde las primeras expediciones,
realizadas desde Alemania, a las investigaciones de los
etnógrafos brasileños. Destaca aquello que hace del Xin-
gu una región tan particular en América del Sur: la tarea
de los hermanos Villas Boas, que fructificó en 1961 con
la creación del Parque Nacional do Xingu, una reserva
cuyo fin es la de proteger las sociedades y la ecología
de la región. Este logro ha hecho que los “Xinguanos”
(nombre que se utiliza actualmente para la totalidad de
los indígenas de la región), en comparación con otras
etnias sudamericanas, se encuentren en una situación
envidiable.
Anita Hermannstádter, autora de varios trabajos
sobre las expediciones alemanas a la Amazonia, enlaza
las características de esta expedición con el entorno so-
cial de la alta burguesía de la época de Herrmann Meyer,
el jefe de la misma, y analiza su comportamiento durante
la expedición a base de los diarios inéditos de éste.
La transcripción completa del diario de viaje es
acompañada por gran parte de los dibujos hechos por
lropos 101.2006
292
Rezensionen
Koch-Grünberg y por más de sesenta fotos tomadas por
él. Estas incluyen escenas de la travesía en barco, vistas
de las ciudades de Buenos Aires, Asunción, de Cuyabá,
algunos retratos de bororo y apiaká tomados en esta
última ciudad y de los integrantes de la expedición y la
vida en los campamentos. La calidad de reproducción
de las fotos es excelente. Por el contrario, no hay
fotos de indígenas del Alto Xingu, ya que las placas
y el material fotográfico se perdieron en uno de los
tantos naufragios. Un glosario de flora, fauna y palabras
portuguesas utilizadas en el texto completa la edición.
Se hallan reproducidos tres mapas, dos (no dema-
siado claro), dibujados por Koch-Grünberg, de la ruta
seguida por los viajeros (113 s.) y otro que presenta la
cuenca fluvial de la región (459). Sin embargo, dado que
no están mencionados en el índice, la única forma de
encontrarlos es por medio del incómodo procedimiento
de hojear el libro hasta toparse con ellos. Un mapa con
el trayecto de la expedición ubicado al comienzo de
la obra hubiera permitido al lector seguir fácilmente el
itinerario.
Michael Kraus se refiere acertadamente al valor de
este primer diario al ubicarlo en una “historia social
de la expedición” y el que refleje las circunstancias
de los “años de aprendizaje” del joven Koch-Grün-
berg. Al finalizar la lectura, algunos lectores no podrán
evitar cierta desazón, provocada por la interminable
sucesión de obstáculos y fracasos, que se refleja en
lo paupérrimo de las informaciones etnográficas. Para
evaluar el método de trabajo y las circunstancias poste-
riores, la publicación de sus diarios de los viajes al río
Negro y a la cuenca del Orinoco es vital, de ahí que
es de desear que se obtenga la financiación necesaria
para continuar la evaluación del material inédito de este
gran etnógrafo. Mientras esto no suceda, es aconsejable
la lectura de otros trabajos de Michael Kraus, en los
que analiza los diarios y experiencias posteriores de
Koch-Grünberg en América del Sur, cerrando así in-
terrogantes que este tomo deja necesariamente abiertos
(véanse, entre otros, Kraus: “.. .und wann ich endlich
weiterkomme, das wissen die Gotter ...” Theodor Koch-
Grünberg und die Erforschung des oberen Rio Negro. In:
D. Kurella und D. Neitzke [Hrsg.], Amazonas Indianer.
LebensRáume, LebensRituale, LebensRechte; pp. 113-
130. Berlin 2002a; Forschungserfahrungen bei Theodor
Koch-Grünberg. In: A. Hermannstádter [Red.], Deutsche
am Amazonas. Forscher oder Abenteurer? Expedí donen
in Brasilien 1800 bis 1914; pp. 86-105. Münster 2002b;
Bildungsbürger im Urwald. Die deutsche ethnologische
Amazonienforschung [1884-1929]. Marburg 2004).
La lectura de este tomo ratifica también la inutilidad
de las interpretaciones psicologistas. Si alguien distinto
a Koch-Grünberg se hubiera abstenido, luego de estas
primeras experiencias, de futuros viajes a la región,
hubiera encontrado la comprensión general. De ahí que
parte de la fascinación que ejerce esta lectura se da
justamente por lo que sabemos ahora, luego de más de
un siglo de aquella desdichada empresa; Koch-Grünberg
no se dejó arredrar y ya un par de años más tarde estaría
nuevamente en Brasil.
La función científica de Koch-Grünberg, en su cali-
dad de profesor universitario y director de museo, se hal-
laba aparentemente ligada a una vida económicamente
segura; la realidad, sin embargo, era un poco dife-
rente. Su decisión de acompañar a la expedición de
A. Hamilton Rice se debió a que su puesto de director
científico en el Museo de antropología de Stuttgart (Lin-
denmuseum) estaba por cesar por falta de presupuesto.
Anteriormente, a fin de alargar su estadía en el Río
Negro había recibido un préstamo en dinero de su futura
suegra (Kraus 2002a). Por lo menos la autora de este
comentario, a la valoración previa de la labor cientí-
fica de Koch-Grünberg, suma ahora la valoración de
aspectos, que, no siendo ciencia en sí, la apuntalan y en
última instancia, también la hacen posible: la fortaleza
de carácter del joven etnógrafo y la pasión (por la cual
evidentemente su sacrificio personal para él no era tal)
por las sociedades indígenas.
María Susana Cipolletti
Komter, Aafke E.: Social Solidarity and the Gift-
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. 234 pp-
ISBN 0-521-60084-7. Price: £ 14.99
“Social Solidarity and the Gift” examines the perva-
sive behavior of gift giving among different groups of
people and different members of social networks. The
author, Aafke Komter, is a sociologist who has been
conducting research on gift giving behavior for over a
decade, and has published widely in primarily sociolog-
ically-oriented journals. The promise of this book - that
the issue of social solidarity will be unpacked and then
employed as a theoretical scaffolding for the study of
gift giving - is a compelling one, given the importance
of both the construct of social solidarity to sociology»
anthropology, and other disciplines, and the obvious
economic and social importance of gift exchange.
Many of the chapters provide illuminating insights
into both the positive and negative effects of gift giving
on solidarity in social groups. Of particular interest is the
application of Alan Page Fiske’s theory of psychological
motivations to explain people’s various motivations f°r
gift giving (e.g., to demonstrate power and prestige»
or to simply fulfill an obligation), and how these m°'
tivations can affect solidarity. Furthermore, chapter 3»
“The Anatomy of Gratitude,” discusses how this over-
looked emotion among gift-giving scholars motivates
and hinders such exchange. Finally, the discussions °
solidarity as a key construct in sociology that are offeree
in chapters 8 and 9 are thoughtful, albeit placed at tbe
end of the book, rather than at the beginning, where
they could have framed the discussions of the empirica
research that followed.
In the introduction to the book, Komter explain
how versions of each chapter have appeared in othef
publications or speeches. Because of this fact, the boo
reads as separate chapters that do not always prese
a cohesive picture of how social solidarity Alumina1 l
gift giving. One of the reasons is that while Korn1
tries to tie the chapters together into a logical un
Anthropos 101-200^
Rezensionen
293
in the introduction, the previously published research
spans a fairly wide period of time (1993-2004), and
clearly Komter had different intents with each of her
studies and different audiences in mind when preparing
the separate publications from which these chapters are
derived.
The most inexplicable aspect of this book is that
Komter overlooks a tremendous rich body of literature
on gift giving available to scholars interested in this
topic. In short, Komter presents research by scholars
such as David Cheal and Theodore Caplow as the most
exemplary (and sometimes even the only) studies that
have furthered our understanding of the sociological
aspects of gift giving. But simply put, nothing could be
further from the truth. In fact, much if not most of the
research on gift giving that has been conducted in the
last two decades has been by scholars of consumer be-
havior, who are typically employed in business schools.
In particular, the Journal of Consumer Research is a rich
source of studies that touch on almost every sociological
Phenomenon that Komter argues to be salient in gift-giv-
Ing contexts. It is a source of continuing bewilderment
to those who claim consumer behavior as their home
discipline that while we faithfully and gratefully consult
ar>d cite the work of our colleagues in anthropology,
s°ciology, and other disciplines, the reverse is not often
lhe case. The result of this imbalance continues to be
a lack of awareness of many important studies on gift
exchange that have propelled scholarship in this area
heyond such claims that reciprocity is almost always
Ihe most important driver of gift giving (e.g., articles by
°elk and Coon [1993] and Joy [2001] demonstrate that
this mechanism is not solely, nor even sometimes partly
sahent in gift-giving situations).
In what I hope will be regarded as a service to
those reading this review, I have chosen to allocate
my remaining word count to a reference section that
^'11 point the reader toward the literature in consumer
ri~search that explores gift giving, and that touches on
most every interesting concept within this context
at should interest anthropologists (e.g., power, social
netWorks, roles):
R.\V
Belk, Gift Giving Behavior. In: J. Sheth (ed.),
p vjiii vjivmg Dciiaviui. m. j. oiicui
^search in Marketing; pp. 95-126. Greenwich 1979;
Th ~ - -
C e Perfect Gift. In: C. Otnes and R. F. Beltramini
tf s-)> Gift Giving: A Research Anthology; pp. 59-84.
"°«‘ing Green 1996.
Belk and G. S. Coon, Gift Giving and Agapic
0n°V£ Alternative to the Exchange Paradigm Based
loa atang Experiences. Journal of Consumer Research
393-417.
ical ^en an(I hi- DeMoss, Self-Gifts: Phenomenolog-
a Insight from Four Contexts. Journal of Consumer
^earch 1990: 322-332.
So °^’ Giving in Hong Kong and the Continuum of
255'^ ^*es- Journal of Consumer Research 2001; 239-
th |
enc' L°wrey, G. Otnes, and K. Robbins, Values Influ-
In§ Christmas Gift Selection: In Interpretive Study.
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
In: C. Otnes and R. F. Beltramini (eds.), Gift Giving: A
Research Anthology; pp. 37-56. Bowling Green 1996.
T. M. Lowrey, C. C. Otnes, and J. A. Ruth, Social
Influences on Dyadic Giving over Time: A Taxonomy
from the Giver’s Perspective. Journal of Consumer
Research 2004: 547-558.
C. Otnes, T. M. Lowrey, and Y. Chan Kim, Gift Giving
for “Easy” and “Difficult” Recipients: A Social Roles
Interpretation. Journal of Consumer Research 1993:
229-244.
L. L. Price, E. J. Arnould, and C. F. Curasi, Older Con-
sumers’ Dispositions of Special Possessions. Journal of
Consumer Research 2000: 179-201.
L. L. Price, F. F. Brunei, and C. C. Otnes, An Investiga-
tion of the Power of Emotions in Relationship Realign-
ment: The Gift Recipient’s Perspective. Psychology and
Marketing 2004: 29-52.
J. A. Ruth, C. C. Otnes, and F. F. Brunei, Gift Receipt
and the Reformulation of Relationships. Journal of
Consumer Research 1999: 385-402.
J. F. Sherry Jr., Gift Giving in Anthropological Perspec-
tive. Journal of Consumer Research 1983: 157-168.
J. F. Sherry Jr., M. A. McGrath, and S. J. Levy, The Dark
Side of the Gift. Journal of Business Research 1993:
225-244.
D. B. Wooten, Qualitative Steps toward an Expanded
Model of Gift Giving. Journal of Consumer Research
2000: 84-96.
Cele Otnes
Kraus, Michael: Bildungsbürger im Urwald. Die
deutsche ethnologische Amazonienforschung (1884—
1929). Marburg: Curupira, 2004. 539 pp. ISBN 3-8185-
0397-4. (Reihe Curupira, 19) Preis: €25,00
Michael Kraus legt mit diesem Buch eine umfangrei-
che Beschreibung und Analyse früher deutscher ethno-
logischer Amazonienforschungen vor. Der untersuchte
Zeitrahmen umfasst mit den 45 Jahren zwischen der
ersten Xingü-Expedition Karl von den Steinens und dem
Todesjahr desselben eine kurze Blütezeit der deutschen
Amazonienforschung, die bald darauf wieder zu Ende
ging; nach dem ersten Weltkrieg mangelte es an For-
schungsgeldem, aber auch durch die Hinwendung der
untersuchten Forscher zu anderen Gebieten und durch
den frühen Tod einzelner konnte kaum eine Schülerge-
neration ausgebildet werden.
Im Zentrum des Buches stehen sechs Akademiker
(Karl von den Steinen, Paul Ehrenreich, Konrad Theodor
Preuss, Theodor Koch-Grünberg, Max Schmidt und
Fritz Krause), für die Ethnologie in Deutschland zum
Beruf wurde, als das Fach gerade begann, sich an
Museen und Universitäten zu etablieren.
Michael Kraus behandelt detailliert die Vorbedingun-
gen und Vorbereitungen der untersuchten Reisen, Kon-
taktpersonen, Fragen der Finanzierung und Ausrüstung,
Reisewege und Reiseverläufe, Forschungsgehilfen und
Aufenthalte bei den Indianern, sowie die fachgeschicht-
lichen Hintergründe und Rahmenbedingungen der Ex-
peditionen.
294
Rezensionen
Kraus’ besonderer Zugang zur Thematik besteht
dabei darin, dass er in Verbindung historischer Un-
tersuchungsmethoden mit ethnologischen Betrachtungs-
weisen eine dichte “Ethnographie der Ethnographen”
schreibt: Kraus begnügt sich nicht mit anschaulichen
Einzelfällen und anekdotischen Begebenheiten, er ver-
allgemeinert aber auch nicht vorschnell vom Einzel-
nen auf alle Amazonienforscher dieser Generation. Er
gibt vielmehr den durchaus persönlichen Erfahrungen,
Ansichten und Aussagen der Reisenden einen gemein-
samen Rahmen, indem er ihre Anschauungen in den
sozialen Kontext und die wissenschaftlichen Debat-
ten ihrer Zeit einbettet. Damit grenzt er sich aus-
drücklich von manchen Spielarten der Postmoderne ab,
die vorschnell alte Texte aus heutiger Sicht kritisie-
ren: “Je mehr man sich mit den Lebensformen, Zeit-
umständen und Selbstzeugnissen der Untersuchten aus-
einandersetzt, um so Überdenkens werter erscheinen ei-
nem die theoriegeleiteten Literaturdebatten der eigenen
Zeit” (19).
Als Ausgangsmaterial, das den “native’ s point of
view” der untersuchten Ethnologen verdeutlichen kann,
dienen Kraus neben ihren Publikationen historische
Selbstzeugnisse aus zahlreichen Archiven, darunter nicht
zuletzt der Nachlass von Theodor Koch-Grünberg, den
der Autor mehrere Jahre lang in Marburg an der Lahn
betreut und bearbeitet hat. Bewusst gibt Kraus den Stim-
men der Untersuchten in zahlreichen Zitaten viel Raum
- wodurch die Forscher auch als Persönlichkeiten sehr
lebendig werden -, im Bemühen sich “mit” den unter-
suchten Personen und nicht bloß theoriegeleitet “über”
sie auseinander zu setzen.
In seiner außerordentlich genauen und gewissenhaf-
ten Arbeit gelingt es Kraus, einige gängige Genera-
lisierungen zurückzuweisen. Es stimmt zum Beispiel
nicht, dass es in Deutschland vor dem Ersten Welt-
krieg keine systematische Feldforschung gegeben hätte:
bereits einige Zeit vor Malinowskis Publikation seiner
Methode der Feldforschung in “Argonauten des west-
lichen Pazifik” propagierten die untersuchten Forscher
eine möglichst große Intensität des Zusammenlebens im
Feld. Das kommt auch darin zum Ausdruck, dass sich
die Forschungen im untersuchten Zeitraum tendenziell
“vom extensiven Durchqueren zum intensiveren Ver-
weilen” (233) entwickelten. Auch den aus der “Writing
Culture” Debatte stammenden Vorwurf, dass persönli-
che Schwierigkeiten in frühen Reiseberichten schamhaft
verschwiegen worden wären, kann Kraus anhand zahl-
reicher Beispiele entkräften.
Schließlich gelingt es dem Autor zu zeigen, dass
die behandelten Amazonienforscher durch ihre induktiv
orientierte Vorgehensweise bereits begannen, ihre durch-
wegs evolutionistisch geprägten theoretischen Ansätze
zu hinterfragen und zu durchbrechen. Die von den Un-
tersuchten zunächst vertretene spezifische Form einer
evolutionistischen Stufenleiter basierte weniger auf einer
radikalen Trennung zwischen “Naturvölkern” und “Kul-
turvölkern”, sondern vielmehr - beeinflusst durch ihre
bildungsbürgerlichen Werte - auf der Gegenüberstel-
lung von “Ungebildeten” und “Gebildeten”. Und solche
wären, so die Forscher, in allen Gesellschaften zu finden,
auch in der eigenen “westlichen”.
Wer jetzt aber glaubt, eine historische Abhandlung
mit vielen Zitaten und zahlreichen Fußnoten müsse je-
denfalls trocken zu lesen sein, der täuscht sich gewaltig:
Michael Kraus hat sein Material in eine überaus anre-
gend und angenehm flüssig zu lesende Form gebracht.
Eine Kunst für ein wissenschaftsgeschichtliches Werk.
Dazu erfreuen viele zum Teil bislang unveröffentlichte
Abbildungen auch in visueller Hinsicht.
Ein wahres Lesevergnügen, das aufgrund seines loh-
nenden Zuganges zur Fachgeschichte und hinsichtlich
seiner vielfältigen Anknüpfungspunkte zu Museums-
betrieb und allgemeiner Wissenschaftsgeschichte eine
Leserschaft verdient, die über den Kreis der Lateiname-
rika-Spezialistinnen hinausgeht.
Gabriele Brandhuber
Kraus, Wolfgang: Islamische Stammesgesellschaf-
ten. Tribale Identitäten im Vorderen Orient in sozial-
anthropologischer Perspektive. Wien; Böhlau Verlag,
2004. 420 pp. ISBN 3-205-77186-9. Preis: €49,00
An dem vorliegenden Buch fällt zunächst der ein-
drucksvolle Umfang auf - bemerkenswert gerade ange-
sichts seines Objekts, das ja in der Ethnologie, jedenfalls
der deutschsprachigen, etwas randständig ist. Zweitens,
und vielleicht in besonderem Maße, der ungewöhnliche
Aufbau: einem theoretischen ersten Teil steht, getrennt
durch einen “Bildessay”, ein fast exakt ebenso großer
ethnographischer, die Gesellschaft der Ayt Hdiddu in1
zentralmarokkanischen Bergland beschreibender, zwei-
ter Teil gegenüber. Es könnte also ebensowohl der ers-
te Teil als theoretische Einleitung für die ethnographi-
sche Darstellung, wie umgekehrt diese als Fallbeispiel
der theoretischen Erörterung genommen werden. Kraus
Absichten decken sich mit der letzteren Variante (16)»
was auch darin zum Ausdruck kommt, dass der zweite,
die Ayt Hdiddu betreffende Teil im Titel des Buches
nicht erwähnt wird. Der Platz der ethnographischen
Darstellung im Buch ist damit klar, doch darf man
zweifeln, ob sie sich wirklich im Rahmen der Aufgabe
hält, “die Nützlichkeit der im ersten Teil entwickelten
Perspektiven für die Beschreibung und Analyse einiger
mir für meine Fragestellungen relevant erscheinende!
Aspekte tribaler Identität und Organisation” zu demonS'
trieren (16).
Es drückt sich in diesem - in Hinblick auf die Ziel'
Stellung des Buches etwas problematischen - Gleichge'
wicht die Parallelität von Kraus’ Interessen und P°r'
schungsbemühungen aus, wie er sie eingangs (14 f*
darlegt. Diese umfassen einerseits eine sehr intensiv
und weit ausgreifende Erkundung der theoretischen un
komparativen Grundlagen des Themas, durch die
Verständnis des marokkanischen Einzelfalls wesenthc
gefördert worden ist (die aber über diese Nutzbeziehuiv
weit hinausreicht, wie z. B. Kraus’ großer Aufsatz V1
1996 über den Begriff der Deszendenz zeigt). Andere1
seits die langjährige Beschäftigung mit dem ethnog,a
phischen Gegenstand, die das Bedürfnis, den theoreü
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
295
sehen Reflexionen ein empirisches Gegenüber zu schaf-
fen, ebenfalls weit übersteigt und die Kraus - wie überall
in dem Buch offenkundig ist - zu einem profunden
Kenner nicht nur dieses einen Stammes, sondern der
gesamten Ethnographie Marokkos gemacht hat.
Den Gegenstand seines Buches bestimmt der Au-
tor wie folgt: Es geht darum, “die Grundlagen für
ein historisch fundiertes anthropologisches Verständnis
der Stammesgesellschaften des Vorderen Orients zu er-
arbeiten. ... Untersucht werden sollen ihre kulturel-
len Dimensionen und praktischen Erscheinungsformen
im Spannungsfeld von separater tribaler Identität und
Zugehörigkeit zu größeren politischen und kulturellen
Gemeinschaften” (14). Im Zentrum dieses Vorhabens
steht die Erfassung der “tribalen Identität”. Mit dieser
meint Kraus “die von Personen für sich in Anspruch
genommene und ihnen von anderen zugewiesene Mit-
gliedschaft in konkreten tribalen Gruppen mitsamt ihrem
Geologischen Hintergrund und den aus ihr abgeleiteten
Konsequenzen für soziale Beziehungen und soziales
Handeln” (17). Dass dieser Komplex nicht frei von
Hneindeutigkeiten und Widersprüchen ist, ist ein Punkt,
auf den es dem Autor besonders ankommt.
Der bedeutendste dieser Widersprüche liegt darin,
dass der tribalen Identität eine andere gegenübersteht,
die sich auf die umfassende Einheit der islamischen
Gemeinschaft bezieht und gegenüber deren Führern -
also etwa dem marokkanischen Sultan - nicht-tribale
L°yalitäts- und Gehorsamspflichten impliziert. Wegen
dieser “doppelten Identifikation der tribalen Akteure”
H4, vgl. 49 ff.) können die hier behandelten Stammes-
§esellschaften “islamische” genannt werden.
. Die Konzeptionen von tribaler Identität und die von
jdnen bestimmten formalen Beziehungen sind nun nach
Kraus das, was die wesentliche Gemeinsamkeit der
tarnrnesgesellschaften des untersuchten Raumes aus-
macht. Damit ist dem Vorhaben eine “kulturelle Per-
fektive” vorgegeben, die “tribale Formen als Ausdruck
V°n Ideologien und kulturellen Konzeptionen zu erfas-
Sen sucht”, ohne darum die Rückwirkung der “struktu-
reHen Zusammenhänge” zu verleugnen (17). Am histo-
r'schen Diskurs der betreffenden Gesellschaften macht
lese Perspektive eine weitere Erkenntnis-Chance sicht-
ig und erhöht so dessen Bedeutung für die Ethnogra-
p le: neben der (problematischen) Rekonstruktion des
(je .sehen kann er, vermöge seiner Selektivität und Ten-
^Zl°sität, Aufschluss über die Ideologien (Definition
^ • 18) und kulturellen Konzeptionen geben (18).
(I Kach der Einleitung eröffnet Kraus den theoretischen
9 Teil der Arbeit mit einer Darlegung des Werde-
n§s des Begriffs des Stammes, die in die Feststellung
Irn ndet (Unc* für diese evtl, doch zu ausführlich ist), dass
fmtersuchungsgebiet das ihm entsprechende Phäno-
p ..n Gktisch und das betreffende Konzept “emisch”
ni k6nt s*ncf untl somü die Verwendung des Terminus
^ : Zu beanstanden ist - gleichgültig, wie es sich
jp d in anderen ethnographischen Regionen verhalten
Verb ^ese Richtigstellung erstreckt sich auch auf die
da. reiteten Bemühungen, das Phänomen als konstruiert
^stellen.
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
Die emische Konzeption der tribalen Identität -
greifbar in den verschiedenen Termini der einzelnen
Sprachen, die die “abstrakte Kategorie” des Stammes
bezeichnen - weist bestimmte allgemeine Formalmerk-
male auf, durch die den tribalen Gruppierungen eine
gemeinsame “logisch-konzeptuelle” Fundierung verlie-
hen wird. Es sind dies die Äquivalenz der verschiede-
nen Einheiten (bei dezidierter Nichtäquivalenz mit Au-
ßenstehenden) und ihre wechselseitige “Kontradistink-
tion”. Aus dieser letzteren ergibt sich das Erfordernis
der eindeutigen Mitgliedschaft. Ein weiteres ist das der
“zeitlichen Kontinuität” als Bedingung des korporativen
Charakters der tribalen Gruppen (59 ff.).
Dieses formale Konzept wird nun in den Gesell-
schaften des Nahen Ostens in “kulturell-ideologische
Modelle” übertragen, von denen das weitaus wichtigste
jenes der Verwandtschaft ist. Hier gilt es allerdings,
die verschiedenen Aspekte zu unterscheiden, nämlich
das Prinzip der patrilinearen Deszendenz (Patrifiliation
müsste man hier richtiger sagen), das die Eindeutig-
keit der Gruppenzugehörigkeit sichert, die (u. U. fik-
tive) Abstammungsgemeinschaft, die auch den Stamm
zur Gänze umfassen kann und so seinen Gesamtzusam-
menhang und seine Segmentierung modellhaft vorgibt
bzw. abbildet, und die verwandtschaftliche Moralität,
die sich auf dieser Grundlage in die Gruppenbezie-
hungen ausweitet. Gegenüber der Frage der Kausal-
richtung in dieser Relation nimmt Kraus (wie häufiger
in dem Buch) eine Sowohl-als-auch-Haltung ein, ist
aber unzweideutig in der Feststellung, dass die ein-
heimische Sichtweise die Überzeugung vieler Theore-
tiker, dass das Verwandtschaftliche nur ein Idiom der
Konzeptualisierung politischer Beziehungen sei, nicht
stützt (71).
Zu dem Verwandtschaftsmodell ist in weiterem Sinne
auch die Heirat zu rechnen, die für den Komplex der
tribalen Identität insofern von großer Bedeutung ist, als
sie das Potential der Ungleichheit in ihn einführt, das
dem Äquivalenzpostulat des genealogischen Schemas
als Komplement gegenübersteht. Es schlägt sich nieder
in der Statusempfindlichkeit, wie sie in den Erscheinun-
gen der Isogamienorm, der Hypergamieaspiration und
Hypogamievermeidung zutage tritt, und bringt das für
die tribale Identität vielfach hochwichtige Rangmoment
in der matrilateralen Abstammung hervor.
Nachdem Kraus bis hierher in abstrakter Weise das
Konzept der tribalen Identität erläutert hat, geht er in
Kap. 4 seines Buches auf die “praktischen Erscheinungs-
formen tribaler Organisation” ein und behandelt dabei
auch Themen, wie die ökonomische Basis, die öko-
nomische Spezialisierung, den Konflikt um Ressourcen
etc. Ich will nur eine Bemerkung zu den zwei letzten
Abschnitten des Kapitels (“Stämme als politische Ein-
heiten”, 113; “Formale Aspekte und empirische Erschei-
nungsformen tribaler Identität”, 125) machen, die wieder
enger mit dem Problem der Identität Zusammenhängen,
in seiner Behandlung aber an einigen Stellen Unklarhei-
ten aufweisen.
Kraus referiert hier mit Zustimmung die Auffas-
sung von Lois Beck, dass in den großen iranischen
296
Rezensionen
Stammeskonföderationen die tribale Identität als ein
Aspekt politischer Führung anzusehen sei. Von Becks
Begründung hierfür, nämlich dass die Mitgliedschaft (in
den soziopolitisehen Einheiten von tribe, subtribe etc.)
“grundsätzlich durch die Gefolgschaft gegenüber den
Oberhäuptern definiert” gewesen sei (120), distanziert
er sich jedoch (mit gutem Grund) im Folgenden, sodass
er am Ende eine Kompromißformulierung zurückbehält:
“Insgesamt ist es daher zumindest auf den obersten Ebe-
nen [Hervorh. v. m.] zweifellos gerechtfertigt, die poli-
tische Führung durch tribale Oberhäupter als den zen-
tralen Faktor tribaler Identität aufzufassen” (121). Der
Vorbehalt in diesem Satz lässt sich nur so verstehen, dass
als die Träger der tribalen Identität in Fällen dieser Art
die Gruppen bzw. ihre Repräsentanten zu gelten haben
- da die politische Gefolgschaft ja keine Angelegenheit
der einzelnen Stammesangehörigen ist. Deren tribale
Identität wird in Kraus’ Satz gar nicht angesprochen;
sie besteht auch in den fraglichen Fällen in der durch
Patrihliation vermittelten Gruppenzugehörigkeit, ist an
deren Bedingungen gebunden und enthält das politische
Moment nur als Konnotat.
Die Verwischung dieser Tatsache schlägt sich einige
Seiten weiter, wo Kraus das Problem der Abgegrenztheit
der tribalen Einheiten in diesen Fällen diskutiert, in
einer Aussage von einiger Undeutlichkeit nieder. Be-
zugnehmend auf eine weitere Stelle bei Lois Beck (de-
ren Unklarheit er aber zugleich kritisiert!), schreibt er:
“Dort, wo politische Gefolgschaft ein wichtiger Faktor
für tribale Identität ist, sind die tribalen Abgrenzungen
durchlässiger als in jenen Stämmen, in denen patrilinea-
re Deszendenz ... vorherrsch^], und die individuelle
Mitgliedschaft ist entsprechend uneindeutiger” (129).
Es wäre schwierig anzugeben, was genau hiermit ge-
meint ist.
Am Ende des Kapitels über die tribale Organisation
zieht Kraus ein vorläufiges Resümee: “der Stamm [stellt]
im Vorderen Orient ein kulturelles Grundmodell sozia-
ler und politischer Organisation [dar]. Dieses Modell
bedient sich gewisser formaler Elemente, die, auf un-
terschiedliche Weise miteinander kombiniert, ein weites
Spektrum konkreter lokaler Formen hervorbringen. ...
Das Modell des Stammes, in welcher konkreten Ausfor-
mung auch immer, ist eine Alternative zum staatlichen
Modell politischer Organisation und steht mit ihm in
Konkurrenz” (130 f.).
Das folgende 5. Kapitel, das im Wesentlichen auf
einem 1995 erschienenen Artikel aufbaut, ist den Theo-
rien der Stammesgesellschaften des Vorderen Orients
gewidmet. Kraus behandelt zunächst den Werdegang
des zentralen Begriff der Segmentation und hebt die
Tatsache hervor, dass die Theorie der “segmentary lin-
eage systems” ihre Wurzeln in der Auseinandersetzung
mit Gesellschaften der hier behandelten Region hat. Er
erläutert sodann das Verhältnis der umstrittenen Seg-
mentationstheorie Gellners zur “lineage theory”, mit der
sie nur bei oberflächlicher Betrachtung als identisch
erscheint. Zu beiden in kritischer Gegnerschaft steht
die Gruppe um Clifford Geertz; der Gegensatz ist nach
Kraus’ Überzeugung aber kein bloß sachlicher, sondern
einer der epistemologischen Grundpositionen - angeb-
bar in der Begriffsgegenüberstellung lisemiotisch, idea-
listisch, relativistisch,, vs. “empiristisch, materialistisch,
positivistisch” (140). Der Ort Gellners in dieser polaren
Konfrontation ist Kraus zufolge weniger eindeutig, als
es den Anschein hat.
Beide Theorieansätze - und auch ein dritter, der von
E. Peters - erweisen sich dem Problem des Zusammen-
hangs von Segmentation und sozialer Praxis gegenüber
auf je besondere Weise als unzulänglich. Gleichwohl
teilen alle drei eine Grundannahme, nämlich die von
der “Notwendigkeit eines systematischen Zusammen-
hanges zwischen der Segmentation als konzeptueller
Ordnung und einer ihr entsprechenden empirischen Pra-
xis” (152). Diese Annahme hat sehr wesentlich den
theoretischen Fortschritt behindert, da sie dazu nötigte,
entweder die empirischen Fakten zu missachten oder
aber das Segmentationsprinzip für faktisch wirkungslos
zu erklären. Von den Autoren, die versucht haben, die-
sem Dilemma durch Vermittlungslösungen zu entkom-
men (Dresch, Jamous, Combs-Schilling etc.), hebt Kraus
besonders Salzman hervor, was ein wenig verwundert,
da die Beiträge Salzmans, die Kraus hierbei im Auge
hat (154), wegen ihres stark räsonierenden Charakters
und der großzügigen Verwendung von Ad-hoc-Annah-
men im Ganzen als problematisch angesehen werden
müssen. Er selbst empfiehlt in der Zusammenfassung
(157 ff.) - die auch den 1. Teil des Buches im Ganzen
beschließt - nachdrücklich ein dissoziatives Herange-
hen, d. h. die Anerkennung einer ziemlich weitreichen-
den Kombinationsfreiheit der beteiligten kulturellen und
sachlichen (“strukturellen”) Faktoren, ihres “flexiblen
Wechselspiels” beim Zustandekommen der konkreten
empirischen Einzelfälle. Bei der Erläuterung dieser Dis-
soziation setzt er mehrere Erklärungsebenen und eine
Stufenfolge von drei Dimensionen an, auf denen sich
jeweils bestimmte Modelle der Organisation und der
Identität befinden - auch die Sachverhalte der 2. Di'
mension, “strukturelle Disposition” genannt, die “einen
bestimmten Stamm zu einer bestimmten Zeit” betreffen»
werden, nicht ganz plausibel, als “Modell” geführt. Di®
3. Dimension, die der sozialen Praxis, wird in Kraus
Buch nicht eingehend behandelt. Die 1. Dimension ist
die der “grundlegenden segmentären Ideologie”, die da®
“rein formale Prinzip der Segmentation” mit Werten und
ideologischen Prinzipien (Verwandtschaft, Heirat etc )
verbindet. Auf sie werde ich im Zusammenhang mh
Kraus’ Fallbeispiel noch kurz zu sprechen kommen.
Was dieses angeht - also den anderen, die zwehe
Hälfte einnehmenden Teil des Buches - so ist der Au®'
druck “Fallbeispiel” insofern nicht ganz zufriedenste!'
lend, als der Text weit mehr enthält, als zur Illustra-
tion von Kraus’ Vorschlägen und Thesen erfordert
wäre. Zugleich werden auch die Mitteilungen über du
Geschichte des Stammes, seinen Aufbau und seine In
stitutionen zur Zeit vor den kolonialen Veränderung611
nicht durchweg mit dem Vorbehalt gemacht, dass s*e
kulturelle Repräsentationen der Stammesmitglieder da*
stellen und darum “zunächst einmal als Ausdruck v°
Ideologien und Werten aufzufassen” seien (207)- ^
Anthropos 101
2006
Rezensionen
297
besitzen überwiegend durchaus die Solidität des Fakti-
schen, sodass die Darstellung im Ganzen den Charakter
eines verhältnismäßig ausführlichen ethnographischen
Abrisses aufweist. Diesen ausführlich zu würdigen, fehlt
es hier an Platz - und wäre auch sinnvoller durch einen
Regionalspezialisten Marokkos zu unternehmen.
Diejenigen kulturellen Repräsentationen, auf die das
Gesagte in geringerem Maße zutrifft, sind die, in denen
Widersprüche und Ambivalenzen zutage treten. Kraus
diskutiert daher sehr eingehend das tribale Gewohn-
heitsrecht in seinem prekären Verhältnis zum islami-
schen Recht, das dazu analoge Verhältnis des tribalen
Unabhängigkeitsstrebens zur Loyalität gegenüber dem
Sultan sowie die Diskrepanzen, die zwischen der ge-
nealogischen und der politischen Segmentation der Ge-
sellschaft bestehen. Für Kraus’ theoretisches Anliegen
sind Diskrepanzen dieser Art von besonderer Bedeu-
tung, da es ihm darum geht, den Dualismus von Norm
Und Abweichung, Ideal und unvollkommener Realisie-
rung aus seiner Konzeption von tribaler Identität und
Organisation herauszuhalten. Die Widersprüche sollen
10 das Konzept integriert werden. Kraus erreicht dies
dadurch, dass er alle im Spiel befindlichen sonstigen
Vorstellungen und Bestrebungen durch Definition zu
^odellen verfestigt und vereinheitlicht, um sie dann
ln einen umfassenden Konkurrenz- bzw. Ergänzungszu-
Sanimenhang mit dem primären Modell zu stellen. Nicht
Zu verkennen ist jedoch, dass durch diese Deklarierung
Nichtige Unterschiede in der Natur dieser Momente
aus dem Blick geraten - z. B. eben doch auch der
v°n Norm und gegenläufiger normwidriger Strebung.
Oanz allgemein scheint mir die übermäßige Anwendung
des Modellbegriffs einer der problematischen Punkte an
^aus’ Buch zu sein.
Ein anderer, der an dem Konzept der drei Dimen-
Sl°nen der Identität zu konstatieren ist, tritt auch hier
^eder in Erscheinung. Kraus merkt an, dass häufig
lskrepanzen zwischen der genealogischen und der poli-
^cfien Segmentation durch Anpassungen bereinigt wur-
en- Diese waren jedoch nicht ausschließlich das Ergeb-
|!ls politischer Prozesse, sondern “[hjinter ihnen stand
as Modell einer segmentären tribalen Struktur, in dem
as formale Erfordernis des Gleichgewichts das Grund-
^eöient bildete” (295). Was dieses “Dahinterstehen”
§nitiv oder psychologisch bedeutet, ist hier genauso
, enig wie an anderen Stellen deutlich zu erkennen.
^ Unterschied zu Kraus macht Salzman ansatzweise
salVersuch, die psychisch/kognitive Präsenz und Wirk-
a^^eit der Altemativideologien zu erklären. Gellner
[H ererse*ts diskutiert nur die “notion of segmentation”
jjervorh. v. mir], was auf die Explikation eines Ide-
Scfi US UinäULsläuft, bleibt also abstrakt.) Der empiri-
q 6 Status und die Wirkungsweise des Modells - des
ndbestandteils eigentlich von Kraus’ komparativen
Regungen - bleiben in seinem Buch ungeklärt,
hin !6Ser Schluss wird verstärkt durch eine Beobach-
ausgd an dem Modell selbst. Dieses besteht, wie erläutert,
tracf 6n ketden Momenten der Äquivalenz und der Kon-
üer 1Stlnktion, die auf jeder der vorhandenen Ebenen in
gleichen Weise präsent sind. Was in dem Modell
Vh
r°pos 101.2006
aber fehlt, ist die vertikale Verbindung zwischen den
Ebenen, d. h. das Moment, aufgrund dessen bestimmte
der Einheiten eine Art der Zusammengehörigkeit auf-
weisen, die die Kontradistinktion zwischen ihnen situa-
tiv aufhebt. Das “rein formale Prinzip der Segmentati-
on” enthält daher nicht - wie der Satz p. 157 fortfährt
und behauptet - “eine taxonomische Gliederung tribaler
Zugehörigkeit”. In der genealogischen Struktur anderer-
seits ist das vertikale Moment, ebenso wie die beiden
anderen, und damit das taxonomische Prinzip im Gan-
zen, beispielhaft gegeben. Dieses könnte daher aus den
entsprechenden Sozialgebilden, die ja auch die ältesten
und naturwüchsigsten sind, einfach durch Abstraktion
gewonnen worden sein. Auch dieser Umstand macht
Kraus’ fast an strukturalistische Vorstellungen erinnern-
de Idee der Vorgegebenheit und ordnenden Einwirkung
des Modells als eines logischen Prinzips für mein Gefühl
sehr problematisch.
Ich habe in dieser Besprechung den zweiten, eth-
nographischen Teil fast ganz außer Betracht gelassen,
doch auch die Behandlung des ersten konnte bei dem
Umfang des Buches und der Fülle und Spannweite der
von Kraus erörterten Themen nur eine sehr punktuelle
sein. Dass sie überdies vorwiegend kritisch ist, macht
das Ungenügen der Besprechung als Würdigung von
Kraus’ Leistung noch ausgeprägter. Auch wenn Kraus’
Konzeption der Einheitlichkeit des von ihm untersuchten
Phänomenkomplexes nicht in allen Zügen überzeugen
kann (siehe zum Beispiel die Apostrophierung der unter-
suchten Gesellschaften als “islamische” aufgrund der bei
ihnen gegebenen “doppelten Identifikation” [s. oben].
Im Bereich des shiitischen Islam kann es diese norma-
lerweise nicht geben. Iranische Stämme kennen zwar
eine übertribale Identifikation, doch ist sie wesentlich
nichtreligiösen, nämlich - mutatis mutandis - nationalen
Charakters [Ausnahme: die tribale Anhängerschaft der
Safawiden]), ist doch offenkundig, dass seine langjähri-
ge Bemühung um sie ihm eine Kennerschaft der eth-
nologischen Probleme der Region, ihrer Ethnographie
und der auch entlegeneren theoretischen Literatur ver-
mittelt hat, die zumindest im deutschen Sprachraum
nicht ihresgleichen hat. Jedem, der sich mit dem The-
ma der nahöstlichen Stammesgesellschaften zu befassen
gedenkt, ist Kraus’ Buch an erster Stelle zu empfehlen.
Burkhard Ganzer
Kremling, Verena: Zu kalt um aufzustehen? Ein-
flüsse von Identität und Weltbild auf die Entwick-
lungszusammenarbeit mit Fulbe-Viehhaltern im Liptako
(Burkina Faso). Herbolzheim: Centaurus Verlag, 2004.
344 pp. ISBN 3-8255-0518-9. (Sozioökonomische Pro-
zesse in Asien und Afrika, 9) Preis: € 27,90
Verena Kremling fragt in ihrer Arbeit nach den Ur-
sachen der Schwierigkeiten, in lokalen Bevölkerungs-
gruppen Überzeugung und Motivation für Projekte der
Entwicklungszusammenarbeit (EZ) zu wecken. Hierzu
untersucht sie kulturelle Parameter, wie Weltbild oder
Identität, zeigt ihre Wechselwirkungen mit und ihre Re-
aktionen auf eine sich verändernde soziokulturelle, poli-
298
Rezensionen
tische, ökonomische und ökologische Umwelt. Kremling
begreift das Individuum als Bestandteil eines komplexen
Ganzen, in dem auf einer Vielzahl von Ebenen die darin
enthaltenen Elemente miteinander in Beziehung stehen.
Zentrale Aussage dieser Arbeit ist die Herausstellung
der kulturellen Bedingtheit von Wissen und Handeln
und der daraus resultierenden Notwendigkeit, westliches
bzw. naturwissenschaftliches Wissen nicht dem lokalen
Wissen als übergeordnet zu betrachten. Interkulturelle
Zusammenarbeit bedeutet eben nicht einseitiger (tech-
nologischer) Wissenstransfer, sondern Kommunikation
und Interaktion zwischen gleichwertigen Partnern, die
über unterschiedliche Werte und unterschiedliches Wis-
sen verfügen.
Kremling hat ihre Untersuchungen bei Fulbe in der
Region Liptako, im nordöstlichen Burkina Faso durch-
geführt. Die ersten Kapitel liefern notwendige Hinter-
grundinformationen zur Einordnung der Arbeit in einen
größeren Kontext. Hierbei wird der Wandel des Ent-
wicklungskonzepts in der Ethnologie rekapituliert. Eben-
so werden die Begriffe Desertifikation, Ökologisches
Gleichgewicht, Armut und Vulnerabilität diskutiert.
Die Fulbe, die im Fokus dieser Arbeit stehen, leben
überwiegend in dauerhaften Siedlungen und betreiben
eine Mischwirtschaft aus Ackerbau und Viehhaltung,
worin sie sich nicht wesentlich von anderen ethnischen
Gruppen dieser Region unterscheiden. In der vorkolo-
nialen Gesellschaftsordnung der Fulbe wurde zwischen
privilegierten Adligen und mittellosen Sklaven unter-
schieden. Erstere waren u. a. im Besitz großer Rin-
derherden und leiteten aus diesem nicht nur materiel-
len, sondern ebenso sozialen Wohlstand und politischen
Einfluss ab. Ethische und moralische Werte wie auch
der ethnische Ursprung stehen in engster Beziehung zu
den Rindern. Die Sklaven der Fulbe mussten Ackerbau
betreiben.
Im Zuge von Kolonialherrschaft, Nationalstaatlich-
keit sowie klimatischen Ereignissen veränderte sich die
Gesellschaftsstruktur der Fulbe grundlegend; Sklaven
wurden befreit und einige von ihnen gelangten zu Wohl-
stand. Gleichzeitig dezimierten Dürren die Rinderherden
und ließen viele der entmachteten Adligen verarmen.
Der Besitz von Rindern verbreitete sich zudem rasch
über andere Bevölkerungsgruppen.
Ein Charakteristikum der Fulbekultur ist ihr Werte-
und Normenkodex pulaaku. Hierin sind die Regeln des
würdigen und maßvollen Lebensstils eines Pulo (Sg. von
Fulbe) festgelegt, was als Grundfeste ihrer ethnischen
Identität zu verstehen ist. Die Kontrolle physischer wie
emotionaler Bedürfnisse, sowie das Bewusstsein, auf-
grund der Einhaltung dieses strengen Regelwerks einer
sozialen Elite anzugehören, sind wesentliche Punkte.
Pulaaku beeinflusst nicht nur nach innen, sondern eben-
so nach außen - zu Nicht-Fulbe - ihr Handeln. Dies
äußert sich, nach Kremling, in Bezug auf Projekte der
EZ auf folgenden Ebenen;
Da diese Projekte oftmals über ethnische Grenzen
hinweg reichen, fühlen sich Fulbe zur Nicht-Beteiligung
animiert, um auf diesem Wege ihre soziale Distanz aus-
zudrücken. Auch sind sie immer wieder der Ansicht,
dass ihre Arbeitskraft bereits durch Hirten- und Feld-
arbeit völlig erschöpft wird und daher die Erledigung
aller übrigen Arbeiten von den körperlich kräftigeren
Ethnien (z. B. den ehern. Sklaven) übernommen werden
müssten. Zudem bedeutet in einem EZ-Projekt mitzu-
arbeiten, auch öffentlich zu machen, ein Problem nicht
aus eigener Kraft lösen zu können. Dies käme einem
Eingeständnis von Schwäche gleich, was die Fulbe unter
allen Umständen zu vermeiden suchen. Das Erdulden-
Können von Mangel, sich mit dem zu begnügen, was
zur Verfügung steht, ist dagegen Ausdruck von pulaaku
und somit ein Aspekt ethnischer Identität, was in den
Augen der Fulbe als Stärke - aus der Perspektive des
Westens als Ignoranz - betrachtet wird.
Ein anderer Aspekt von Identität ist Religion. Die
Fulbe des Untersuchungsgebiets gehören dem Islam an.
Neben pulaaku liefert die Religion die maßgeblichen
Werte und Normen der Lebensführung. Zentrales Para-
digma ist die schicksalhafte Ergebenheit in den Willen
Gottes und der daraus abgeleitete geringe Einfluss des
handelnden Individuums auf seine Lebensgestaltung. In
Bezug auf die EZ bedeutet dies beispielsweise, dass
potentielle Mediatoren - die Korangelehrten - sich meist
weder willens noch sich für eine vermittelnde Funktion
überhaupt zuständig sehen. Darüber hinaus werden die
Handlungen der Weißen immer wieder beargwöhnt und
in engen Zusammenhang mit der christlichen Religion
gestellt, von der man sich zu distanzieren sucht.
Selbst wenn ein Pulo Interesse an einer Idee bekundet
und sie als nützlich beurteilt, ist dies nicht gleichbedeu-
tend damit, dass er sie auch ernsthaft umzusetzen ver-
sucht. Hier kalkulieren die Fulbe sehr rational und war-
ten erst einmal ab, welchen tatsächlichen Erfolg ein Pro-
jekt mit sich bringt, um dann zu beurteilen, in welchen1
Verhältnis der Aufwand zum erwartenden Nutzen steht-
Einer Übernahme von Verantwortung und Initiati-
ve, ökonomischen Wandel herbeizuführen, stehen. wie
Kremling in ihrer Arbeit zeigt, noch andere Hindernisse
im Weg; Das Nicht-Vorhandensein von Visionen über
Art und Richtung von Veränderungen auf der Ebene des
einzelnen Akteurs und das Fehlen politischer und/oder
religiöser Führungspersönlichkeiten, die einen solchen
Prozess katalysieren.
Weitere Schwierigkeiten sind außerhalb ethnisch-rß'
ligiöser Bedingtheiten zu suchen. Sie betreffen unter'
schiedliche Institutionen, wie staatliche Einrichtungen’
bi- oder multinationale Projekte sowie die vielfältig611
Aktivitäten einer großen Anzahl NGOs, die eine En1'
Wicklung oder Entwicklungszusammenarbeit vorantrei'
ben wollen. Größtes Manko hierbei sind die meist nnf
wenig untereinander koordinierten, oftmals sich gegel1
seitig konterkarierenden Interventionsstrategien, die
durch ihren Wirkungsgrad gegenseitig verringern
langfristige, nachhaltige, kulturell angepasste Strategie'1
hemmen.
Diese Studie liefert einen wichtigen Beitrag für ^
Arbeit in der EZ, der an sich nicht neu, aber denno^
von großer Aktualität ist. Denn noch immer wird 1
der praktischen Arbeit zu oft ignoriert, dass die be^
gemeinten Interventionen nicht optimal greifen, w'e
Anthropos 101.20^
Rezensionen
299
sie nicht auf hohem Niveau an die lokalen kulturellen
Bedingungen adaptiert sind. Theoretisch oder politisch
konstruierte Strategien der EZ mögen smart und sehr
Political correct” sein und sich gut verkaufen lassen,
d. h. sich dazu eigenen, finanzielle Mittel zu akquirieren.
Sie führen aber auch leicht in Sackgassen, denn sie
berücksichtigen oft nur oberflächlich lokale Werte und
Erfahrungen. Wie gut eine Interaktion geglückt ist, lässt
Slch am praktischen Erfolg eines Projekts beurteilen,
nicht am theoretisch Möglichen; Was hat sich tatsächlich
Wrändert, wer sind die Gewinner, wer die Verlierer
Und warum, wie wird dies beurteilt und welchen Ein-
fluss haben die Veränderungen auf künftige Handlun-
gen?
Es ist eine Kritik an Herangehensweisen, Ausrich-
tung und Zielen der EZ, die häufig auf einer Reduk-
tlQn des Kulturbegriffs fußen: Kultur wird dort nicht
aE ein allumfassendes System gleichwertiger Lebens-
uußerungen und Lebensbereiche gesehen, sondern als
eiu aus autonomen Einheiten bestehendes Ganzes, in-
nerhalb dessen Eingriffe und Veränderungen nicht in
flynarnischer Wechselwirkung mit dem Ganzen stehen.
Römling zeigt eindringliche Beispiele für die Logik
°kalen Handelns und die Hürden, die sich daraus für
eiue EZ ergeben.
Quantifizierendes Zahlenmaterial und eine Diskus-
^'0n zu Validität und Reliabilität der Daten hätten die
, ludie noch ein wenig präziser gemacht. Dennoch alles
lri allem eine sehr spannende Arbeit, anschaulich ge-
trieben, die sehr wichtige Einblicke in Denken und
audeln der Fulbe ermöglicht. Frank Krönke
Lange, Dierk: Ancient Kingdoms of West Africa.
nca-Centred and Canaanite-Israelite Perspectives. A
ollection of Published and Unpublished Studies in
Y^Esh and French. Dettelbach: Verlag J. H. Röll, 2004.
86 PP. ISBN 3-89754-115-7. Price: €59,80
Eie Alte und Mittlere Historiographie Afrikas südlich
1 Sahara ist im deutschen Sprachraum eine fast mar-
a^e Disziplin, nur wenige befassen sich heutzutage
Zu ^esem Raum. Dierk Lange gehörte und gehört
dieser Minderheit; er ist in seiner schaffensreichen
j^. eurtenlaufbahn auch nicht müde geworden, auf den
lssstand der Marginalisierung hinzuweisen.
tr),, Vbt dem umfangreichen Band legt Lange sein Ver-
A . nis vor. Es ist eine Sammlung bereits erschienener
ej in englischer und französischer Sprache und
^ er Reihe neuerer Manuskripte; eingerahmt ist der
(jit Von einem Vorwort, einer Bibliographie, welche
Vol] W^SSenschaftliche Aktivität des Autors eindrucks-
in ri ^°Eumentiert, und einem abschließenden Kapitel,
, 111 er die abgedruckten älteren Beiträge aus heutiger
Ind ^0mmentiert. Das mächtige Werk wird durch einen
perex abgerundet. Alles in allem hat der Band eine sehr
Hit n lcEe Note, was auch durch die Widmung an seine
^ Wle den Dank an die eigene Familie unterstrichen
\y ^ Vorwort erläutert Lange seinen intellektuellen
egang (“intellectual adventure”) und beschreibt,
Anth;
ropos 101.2006
wie er sich zunächst als traditioneller Historiker in Pa-
ris an der ehrwürdigen Sorbonne mit den klassischen
Quellen der Afrikahistoriographie auseinander setzte -
arabische Manuskripte und europäische Reise- und Ko-
lonialliteratur. Da Langes Arbeitsgebiet hauptsächlich
der zentrale geographische Sudan (biläd al-südän) in
Westafrika war, liegt das Augenmerk auf der Islamisie-
rung und Staatenbildung - geschrieben sind die frühen
Studien aus der Perspektive der externen arabischen
und europäischen Quellen. Aus dieser Zeit stammen
zweifelsohne ganz hervorragende Untersuchungen zum
Transsaharahandel aber auch zum Reiche Kanem-Bornu
im Tschadbecken. Viele von diesen klassischen Bei-
trägen sind im Werke noch einmal abgedruckt.
Nach den Jahren in Paris verschlug es Lange nach
Kairo aber auch nach Maiduguri in Nigeria, 1987 erhielt
er dann den Ruf an die Bayreuther Universität, wo er
die Professur für Geschichte Afrikas bekleidete. Dort,
gegen Ende der 1980er Jahre, begann er sich zuneh-
mend für die Hausastaaten zu interessieren. Nun hatte
er auch seinem traditionellen schriftbezogenen Ansatz
abgeschworen und begann, in Feldforschungen Orale
Traditionen aufzunehmen und traditionelle Feste aber
auch soziopolitische Strukturen zu dokumentieren. Die-
se Arbeiten sind im Band im Kapitel 3 abgedruckt.
Nun lässt sich bei Lange auch ein intellektueller Wandel
feststellen: Nicht mehr, wie in den Studien zu Kanem-
Bornu, ist der Einfluss des Islam ab dem 8./9. Jh. und die
Staatenbildung des Mittelalters Thema seiner Studien,
Lange vermutet tiefer liegende, ältere Schichten, ver-
graben in lokalen Traditionen, welche auf einen intensi-
ven Kontakt Westafrikas in das früheisenzeitliche Mit-
telmeergebiet schließen lassen würden. Diesen Ansatz
verfolgte er auch weiter in den jüngeren Forschungen zu
Yorubaland - auch hier hofft er, diese zweitausend Jahre
alte Verbindung in Riten und Festen zu finden. Grundla-
ge all dieser Kontakte, insonderheit auch derjenigen in
den Süden Westafrikas, sei der Sklavenhandel gewesen.
Der Weg wäre, wie historisch für das frühe Mittelalter
dokumentiert, von Tripolis ausgehend zum Tschadsee
verlaufen, von dort aus weiter nach Süden. Zusammen-
gefasst wird Langes Hypothese auf einer doppelseiti-
gen Karte im Vorwort: Ausgehend von der Levante
breitet sich die phönizische Expansion im Mittelmeer
aus, erreicht das heutige Tunesien mit Karthago und
von dort, beziehungsweise auch von Leptis Magna in
Libyen, weisen zwei Pfeile nach Süden. Diese “kanaani-
tisch-israelitische Expansion im 1. Jahrtausend v. Chr.”
(Kartenunterschrift) führt ausweislich der Schattierung
und der erklärenden Kartenlegende im biläd al-südän
zu einer “tertiären kanaanitisch-israelitischen” Staaten-
bildung - Hausa, Kanem und Yoruba. Ausgelöst wur-
de sie, nach einem den Pfeil nach Süden begleitenden
Schriftzug, durch “punische Händler, Krieger und Ad-
ministratoren”. Um diese sind noch weitere “Völker”
(“people” - Kartenlegende) hervorgehoben, die kanaa-
nitisch-israelitische Einflüsse zeigen: Borghu, Songhay
und Ghana.
Im fünften Kapitel widmet sich Lange den Staaten
am mittleren Niger, wiederum bilden ältere Artikel die
300
Rezensionen
Einführung und ein bislang unpubliziertes Manuskript
den Abschluss der Überlegungen. Im Vorwort bezeich-
net er diesen Abschnitt allerdings als “eher konven-
tionell” (4), tatsächlich werden tiefe Zeitphasen nicht
angeschnitten, die Chronologie entspricht dem Üblichen,
der Leser bewegt sich im frühen zweiten Jahrtausend -
nach Christi Geburt.
Bei aller Hochachtung vor Langes früheren Studien
zu Kanem-Bornu und auch einigen Arbeiten zur Staa-
tenbildung in Hausaland kann Rez. dem Autor in seinen
jüngeren Hypothesen nicht folgen. Es bleiben Stücke-
lungen aufgrund scheinbarer struktureller Ähnlichkeiten
in Ritualen und soziopolitischen Organisationsforraen,
die keinerlei wissenschaftliche Beweiskraft besitzen,
auch wenn sich Lange um ein dicht geknüpftes Netz
von Argumenten bemüht. Orale Traditionen, traditionel-
le Teste und soziopolitische Strukturen lassen sich nicht
absolut datieren. Und bislang konnte die Archäologie
Westafrikas keinerlei Hinweise auf allzu frühe Einflüsse
aus dem Mittelmeerraum oder dem Orient aufdecken;
sichere Kontaktfunde aus der Antike fehlen. Das Argu-
ment einer intensiven, früheisenzeitlichen Sklaverei will
nicht recht überzeugen, dann Sklavenzüge hinterlassen
kaum archäologische Spuren; sie bleiben ein Postulat
ex silentio. Zudem ist aus dem antiken Mittelmeerraum
kein Dokument bekannt, das auf einen Handel mit Re-
gionen südlich der Sahara hinweisen würde. Die weni-
gen überlieferten Expeditionsberichte lassen die Länder
fremdartig und geheimnisvoll erscheinen (so etwa der
Fahrtenbericht des Sufeten Hanno, der im Buch offenbar
gar nicht erwähnt wird). Dennoch, und das muss Rez.
zugeben, ist die Idee früher Kontakte zwischen dem Mit-
telmeer und dem Dunklen Kontinent jenseits der Wüste
faszinierend, wenngleich Lange mit diesen Überlegun-
gen in einer alten und bisweilen auch unrühmlichen Tra-
dition steht. Aber ohne greifbare und datierbare Beweise
aus wissenschaftlich abgesicherten archäologischen Zu-
sammenhängen oder Schriftzeugnissen bleiben alle Ver-
mutungen zu “kanaanitisch-israelitischen Perspektiven”
(Titel) in der Tat ein “intellektuelles Abenteuer” (1).
Detlef Gronenborn
Lanik, Monika: Freie Bürger und Freimaurerinnen.
Lokalpolitik am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts. Berlin:
Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2003. 287 pp. ISBN 0-496-
02760-6. Preis; € 39,00
Die Ethnologin Monika Lanik legt mit ihrer Disser-
tation “Freie Bürger und Freimaurerinnen. Lokalpoli-
tik am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts” eine überzeugende
politikethnologische Kommunalstudie über eine baden-
württembergische Stadt vor. Die von ihr mit dem Na-
men Senkenbach anonymisierte Stadt in Schwaben sucht
nach dem Zusammenbruch der Ost-West-Blöcke im Jah-
re 1989 neue Ordnungen für ihre ins Wanken geratene
Lokalpolitik. Lanik fragt, inwieweit freundschaftliche
Netzwerke in politische Prozesse verwoben sind und
wie sich globale Prozesse auf die Mikrostrukturen der
Lokalpolitik auswirken können. Der Autorin gelingt es
hervorragend, klassische ethnologische Themen wie Kli-
entelismus, Rituale und Symbole auf ihre modernen Un-
tersuchungsfelder anzuwenden und einen wesentlichen
Beitrag für die Analyse zivilgesellschaftlicher Prozesse
in modernen Gesellschaften zu leisten.
Lanik geht von der These aus, dass informelle Struk-
turen, so u. a. Freundschaftsnetzwerke, parallel zu den
formalen Strukturen der Lokalpolitik organisiert sind.
Dies schließt nicht zwangsläufig eine demokratische Po-
litik aus und verhindert die Etablierung von modernen
Strukturen nicht. Im Gegenteil können diese Freund-
schaftsmuster zivilgesellschaftliche Momente in sich tra-
gen und einen Beitrag zu demokratischen Organisati-
onsstrukturen leisten. Zivilgesellschaft stellt für Lanik
eine positive Benennung für eine im Entstehen begrif-
fene formelle und informelle gesellschaftliche Organi-
sation dar, wobei das informell Verborgene, das vor der
Öffentlichkeit geheim gehalten wird, nicht zwangsläufig
klienteläre Korruption, illegal und mafios sein muss.
Die Datenbasis von Lanik stammt aus zwei Fel-
dern in Senkenbach. Erstens untersucht Lanik den Ge-
meinderat und dessen jährliche Haushaltsdebatte sowie
drei Politikerinnen und ihre politischen wie privaten
Inszenierungen in der fragmentierten politischen Land-
schaft. Parallel erforscht sie, zweitens, eine feminine
Freimaurerloge. Lanik führte ihre Feldforschung von
März 1995 bis Dezember 1997 in Senkenbach durch. Sie
machte Interviews, Archivrecherchen und teilnehmende
Beobachtung. Zudem erhob sie Netzwerkdaten über die
politischen und sozialen Verhältnisse. Die Ethnologin in'
terpretiert ihre Daten im foucaultschen Verständnis von
Diskurs und Macht. Ihre detaillierte, bisweilen klein-
teilige Diskursanalyse über Aussagen der Akteure und
Akteurinnen in der Lokalpolitik bietet gleichsam eine
Kritik an Habermas’ Modell vom öffentlichen Diskurs-
Der gemeinsame Nenner der Diskurse in der politischen
und freimaurerischen Szene ist, dass Lanik Inszenierun-
gen und Körperpraktiken der Akteure und Akteurinnen
als einen Ritualkomplex annimmt, aus dem sich Politik
als Performance, als Erfahrung generiert, die - abhängU
vom gesellschaftlichen Milieu - eine entsprechende dis-
kursive Verhandlung in der Öffentlichkeit erfährt.
Nach einer hervorragenden und klar strukturierte’1
theoretischen Einführung in Klientelismus, Ritual nn
Symbol spiegelt Lanik im ersten Teil ihres Buchen
die neue politische Unübersichtlichkeit und Unsichet
heit durch den Zusammenbruch übergeordneter p0*1
tischer Strukturen in der geographischen Kleinkam111^
rigkeit der vulkanischen Umgebung Senkenbachs an
dessen Geschichte wider. Die in Senkenbach praU1
zierte “Vetterleswirtschaft” wird in der politischen P’a
xis nicht als korrupt skandalisiert, sondern produzi6
durch ihre Inszenierung in der politischen Öffentlichke
eine bestimmte diskursive Ordnung. Die Sichtbar*^
der Akteure und ihr Agieren stellt eine strategie1
Praxis dar, die politische Transparenz im kleinräutf1’
gen Feld der Lokalpolitik ermöglicht und deuil'
macht, wie Zweckbündnisse Fragmentierungen übet
gern können. Informelle (männliche) Freundschaftsm
ter überlagern die zersplitterte Parteienlandschatt u11
stellen alte, bewährte Ordnungsmuster wieder her. U
Anthropos 101
,2006
Rezensionen
301
männlichen Gestaltungspakt, der die jährliche Haus-
haltsdebatte prägt und zur jahrzehntelangen strukturellen
Verhinderung der Etablierung einer Frauenbeauftragten
und der Errichtung eines Frauenhauses führt, hebt Lanik
als eine Konstante in der lokalen Mikropolitik hervor.
Diesen strukturellen Ausschluss von Frauen aus der Fo-
kalpolitik interpretiert die Ethnologin als ein säkulares
Ritual, eine politische Inszenierung, die die gegebenen
politischen Verhältnisse zementiert und die kleinkamm-
rige Lokalpolitik, “das geosoziologische Relief’ mit sei-
nem “gehemmten Vulkanismus” bestätigt.
Lanik will wissen, wie Frauen einen Zugang in die
Lokalpolitik finden und sich in ihr verorten können. Am
Beispiel von drei Frauen auf ihrem Weg zur Politikerin
führt sie vor, dass die Politikerinnen im Gegensatz
zu ihren männlichen Kollegen Menschsein und Politik
nicht trennen dürfen, sondern dass sie als Frau, Single
oder Mutter in der Öffentlichkeit verhandelt werden.
Diese Emotionalisierung der Politik verhindere eine
Solidarität unter Frauen, bei deren Politik Öffentliches
und Privates nicht getrennt wird, wie es umgekehrt im
männlichen Gestaltungspakt geschieht. Frauen kommen
dagegen über die Inszenierung des privaten Bereiches in
Öffentlichkeit, weil das Publikum diese Kompetenz
v°n ihnen anerkennt.
Im zweiten Teil ihres Buches kontrastiert Lanik das
säkulare Ritual” mit einem gesellschaftlichen Gegen-
modell. Lanik begegnet in ihrer Erforschung des Ge-
meinderats Frauen, die als Mitbegründerinnen der fe-
mininen Loge in Senkenbach in Erscheinung treten. Die
Lthnologin nimmt an der letzten Phase des Formierungs-
Prozesses beobachtend teil und lässt sich, wie andere
rauen auch, zur Freimaurerin initiieren. Ihr leitendes
uteresse ist, ob im geheimen Raum der femininen
mirnaurerloge andere Formen der Solidarität existieren
Und welche Wirkkraft Freimaurerrituale zur Verände-
[Ung oder Machbarkeit einer guten Gesellschaft haben
°nnen. Laniks Initiation öffnet ihr den Weg in eine neue
uterpretation der femininen Freimaurerei. Galt bisher
le Aufklärung als Ausgangspunkt der Freimaurerei,
^ stellt Lanik den Initiationscharakter des gesamten
. eimaurerischen Rituals in den Vordergrund und sieht
osoterischen-mystischen, vormodernen, nicht auf-
Urerischen Denken eine die Gesellschaft verändernde
mft. über ihre Initiation als ethnographisches Datum
^hWeigt die Ethnologin, “das Geheimnis schließt die
°ge”. Doch sie macht anschaulich, dass die Initiation
s e Praxisorientierte Weitergabe von Wissen und ge-
schäftlicher Verantwortung ist.
s , *m Ritual wird Wirklichkeit im Geheimen neu ge-
uffen und gerade durch die Gleichheit aller (Frauen)
pQtsteht eine Konkurrenzentlastung, die ein Solidaritäts-
ti0 enUal freisetzt, das eine Variante innovativer Varía-
te uSn *n ^er Senkenbacher (gesellschaftlichen) “Verhal-
lt” ist. Der alternative Raum der Frauensolidarität
Pringt nicht einem geheimen und nischenbezogenen
he Öe^n’ sonBem wird von ihr als Beitrag zur Gene-
tetrün§ von positiv gelagerten sozialen Kräften gedeu-
en’ ^em Ritual und dessen gemachter Erfahrung
Pnngen. Die Freimaurerinnen beziehen sich in der
nthroPos 101.2006
Konstruktion ihrer Gemeinschaft auf konkrete Momente
des mittelalterlichen Kathedralenbaus, deren architekto-
nische Konstruktion in Korrespondenz mit materiellen
und sozialen wie transzendenten Ordnungen steht. Win-
kelmaß und Zirkel als Symbole der mittelalterlichen
Steinmetzkunst und die Bauhütten dienen als Modell
für die Schaffung einer mythischen Gemeinschaft im
geheim geschützten Raum, der sich zu einem neuen
Raum des inneren Erlebens formiert. Dies geschieht
durch das im Ritual geordnete Erleben, das die Frauen
gerade nicht in ihren bürgerlichen Rollen bekräftigt, son-
dern diese Grenzen aufhebt und Toleranz wie Solidarität
möglich macht. Der “Rationalismus” des Mittelalters ist
das konkrete Vorgehen der Baumeister und ihr Wissen,
das die Ideengeschichte der Architektur ausdeutet sowie
die sozioökonomischen Voraussetzung für die Bauwerke
mit einschließt. Diesem Rationalismus liegt das Bild des
aufrechten Menschen als Menschenbild zugrunde, das in
das Bild der Kathedrale gefasst wird. Lanik schließt ihre
Analyse mit der These, dass Freimaurerinnen, die im
Ritual erfahrene Sicherheit im öffentlichen Raum des
Alltags selbstsicher umsetzen und denselben meistern
können. Denn der Bau einer Kathedrale entspricht im
übertragenen Sinne der Bildung einer Gesellschaft, die
nur in Gemeinschaft möglich ist.
Die Arbeit zeigt, wie kleine Ordnungsmuster, Freund-
schaftsmuster und das freimaurerische Ritual globale
Veränderungen, wie sie 1989 ausgelöst wurden, auf der
Lokalebene mitgestalten und nicht als bloßer Reflex auf
sie zu verstehen sind.
Laniks Dissertation ist mit diesem Ergebnis zu
würdigen. Allerdings birgt die thematische Zweiteilung
des Buches die Gefahr in sich, dass dem Leser / der Le-
serin der praxisbezogene Zusammenhang zwischen der
Lokalpolitik und der femininen Freimaurerei verschlos-
sen bleibt. Zudem bleibt die Problematik vage beant-
wortet, wie aus dem im geheimen Raum durchgeführten
Ritual der Freimaurerinnen tatsächlich soziale, positiv
gestärkte Kräfte zur Etablierung einer Zivilgesellschaft
in die Öffentlichkeit transformiert werden können.
Annemarie Gronover
McCann, James C.: Maize and Grace. Africa’s
Encounter with a New World Crop, 1500-2000. Cam-
bridge: Harvard University Press, 2005. 289 pp. ISBN
0-674-01718-8. Price: $27.95
This excellent and provocative book is only the
second volume to survey maize in Africa, the first being
Marvin Miracle’s “Maize in Tropical Africa” (Madison
1966). It raises a wide range of important questions
about the impact of maize and provides impressive
bibliographic resources on the history of maize in Africa
and its current effects and problems. This volume is
essential reading for anyone interested in Africa because
Africa is the continent most dependent on maize which
is Africa’s most important food. 95% of Africa’s maize
goes for human consumption unlike the rest of the world
where most maize goes for livestock feed or industrial
use and only 4% goes for human food.
302
Rezensionen
McCann early on describes the key features of maize
in terms of the problems it presents for those who
grow it. Breeding maize is complex and difficult to
control since its pollen is wind-borne; this is important
since modern high-yield maize is hybrid and must be
planted each year from new, industrially-grown seed.
Varieties of maize are myriad presenting a vast range of
types responding to different conditions of climate and
providing widely different yields, different requirements
in processing, and different colours and qualities of
taste. Maize production cannot, therefore, be considered
without also considering relevant factors of rain-pat-
terns, temperature, and economic needs and resources of
those who grow it. Poor farmers are unlikely to afford
hybrids to be planted with new seeds every year nor
are they necessarily interested in the standardized maize
needed by industrial processing mills. Maize in North
America and Europe is industrially produced in large
farming operations. Much of Africa’s maize, used for
food, is produced by small-scale farmers and where it is
industrially-produced for food, this has been by Whites
who have geared their production to part of a broader
exploitation of Black city-dwellers and mine-workers
who consume such food. White, industrial production of
maize in Africa was long also associated with political
and economic oppression of small-scale African farm-
ers. One of the key, implicit arguments in McCann’s
book is that the deep political implications of maize pro-
duction and its control and consumption in Africa, espe-
cially in the southern and eastern parts of the continent,
have not been properly addressed by social scientists.
McCann provides a valuable survey of what we
know about how and where maize was introduced into
Africa, modifying the assumption that its introduction
was mainly through the Portuguese and that Arabs and
Africans were not key players in its spread. McCann
presents two useful chapters in which he contrasts the
different ways that maize could affect regions where it
has been introduced. In chapter 3 he contrasts the effects
of maize in Ghana (mainly Ashante) and Nigeria; in
chapter 4 he contrasts the impact of maize in 16th and
17th century Veneto, northern Italy, with the effects in
highland Ethiopia. This is especially interesting because
Africanists can learn much by comparing how alien
maize affected areas outside Africa.
In chapter 5 McCann explains how Africa’s maize
turned white, noting that most of the contemporary
world produces yellow maize. McCann relates the dra-
matic increase in Africa’s production and consumption
of maize with dramatic changes in scientific breeding
of hybrid maize which spectacularly increased yields.
He notes how the enormous rise in African cities and
industrialized areas (based on cheap Black labour) are
grounded in huge increases in maize production. Even
so, today the industrialized West produces over twen-
ty-five times more maize per hectare than does Africa,
a clear indication of many of the economic development
problems addressed by the author.
In chapters 6 through 9 McCann develops his earlier
arguments about the impact of global scientific research
and economic policies upon Africa. Increasingly maize
research has been centered in American and European
interests and needs. Few scientific researchers actual-
ly pay much attention to the particular local needs
and knowledge of Africans and this has sometimes
made such research poorly fitted to long-term needs
of Africa. Instead, standardizing research focuses on
hybrids geared to high-production but also bound to
high-imputs of chemical fertilizers, prevalent water sup-
plies, and mechanized cultivation and processing. Little
attention is paid to the fact that most Africans have little
access to fertilizers or machines and need to respond
to a wide range of soil and climatic conditions which
are often better served by agricultural practices tuned to
many variations even within a small area. Furthermore,
researchers, in their quest for ever-higher yields, are
often unaware of possible negative outcomes from the
new, globally-oriented major hybrids of maize. Maize
can foster a number of nutritional deficiencies, can even
promote certain diseases, and may cause soil exhaustion-
The unanticipated outcomes of modern scientific food
production have alarmed many in recent times, espe-
cially Europeans viewing the new genetically-modified
crops advocated by huge American industrial agricultur-
al giants. McCann provides disturbing information on
why we all need to be concerned with many current
agricultural developments.
This work does not present answers to most of the
many questions it raises nor does it aim to do so-
il is an immensely stimulating and provocative book
that underscores the enormous and growing impact that
maize has had, for better or worse, on modem Africa-
I do, however, wish that the author had chosen a bettet
title rather than one punning on the old Protestant hymn
“Amazing Grace,” though since that hymn was written
by a reformed British slave-dealer, who exploited Wes1
Africa, perhaps an ironic and bitter point is intended.
T. O. Beidelma11
MacClancy, Jeremy (ed.): Exotic No More. An'
thropology on the Front Lines. Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press, 2002. 456 pp. ISBN 0-226-50013-6-
Price: $25.00
Was geht Juristen Anthropologie an? Das Recht igt
ein Faktor bei der Gestaltung der sozialen Ordnung. Set'
ne Effektivität hängt auch davon ab, wie gelungen es af
die reale Welt anknüpft. Findet das Recht in der RealiN1
keinerlei Entsprechung, so wird es oft nicht effektiv sei11
Juristische Figuren dürfen zwar durchaus Kunstprodukte
sein und von der Realität abstrahieren. Letztlich rmlsS
es aber doch eine Entsprechung in der Wirtschaft
und Sozialordnung geben und ein Regelungsbedürfft
befriedigt werden. So steht beispielsweise die Figur o
juristischen Person auch von der Fiktionstheorie v
betrachtet mit unserer Wirklichkeit in Einklang, vV('
sie bei uns sinnvoll eingesetzt werden kann. Juristise
Figuren können aber auch mit einer sozialen Struk
unvereinbar sein. Dies führt dazu, dass entweder ö
soziale Struktur gestört wird, oder - und dies ist 0
Anthropos 101
,2(#
Rezensionen
303
wahrscheinlicher - das Recht in der Wirklichkeit igno-
riert wird. Aus diesem Grund ist den Juristen dringend
zu empfehlen, sich gut über das Verhältnis des Rechts
zur realen Welt zu informieren.
Diese reale Welt umfasst auch die Frage, wie die
Normadressaten denken. Oft wird man hier kein Pro-
blem vermuten. Doch spätestens in einem kulturüber-
greifenden Zusammenhang ist dies anders. Ein sol-
cher mag sich bereits auf nationaler Ebene finden. In
diesem Fall sind Juristen gut beraten, die Erkenntnis-
se der sozialen Anthropologie heranzuziehen. Der hier
besprochene Sammelband bietet sehr beeindruckende
Beispiele für die Relevanz und Leistungsfähigkeit der
Anthropologie, deren juristische Verarbeitung Rechts-
anthropologie genannt wird. Die Rechtsanthropologie
ergänzt sich hervorragend mit der Rechtsökonomie und
“behavioural law and économies”, da die Anthropologie
entscheidende, empirisch belegte Hinweise auf die in
der Rechtsökonomie betrachteten Anreizstrukturen der
Beteiligten liefern kann.
Sehr lesenswert und klar verständlich ist die Ein-
leitung. Sie macht deutlich, dass das Buch die soziale
und nicht etwa die biologische Anthropologie behan-
delt. Kemanliegen des Buches ist, wie schon der Titel
Reffend sagt, die Wahrnehmung vom Gegenstand der
Anthropologie zu verändern, sie aus der Ecke der reinen
Beschäftigung mit exotischen Völkern herauszuholen
Ur*d zu zeigen, was sie zur Lösung heutiger Proble-
me beitragen kann. So kann sie z. B. Schwächen in
§roßen politischen Programmen aufzeigen. Die Anthro-
Pologie ist anderen Forschungsansätzen oft überlegen,
^ eil sie eine den Dingen auf den Grund gehende Tiefe
Reicht. Dies erreicht sie mit der sehr aufwendigen
eldforschung, die sich über Jahre erstreckt und ein
echtes Verständnis der sozialen Strukturen ermöglicht,
^il sie die Probleme von falschen Auskünften durch
k'e Betroffenen, die auf Misstrauen oder Höflichkeit
eruhen, durch echtes Eindringen in Strukturen über-
^ndet. Soziale Anthropologie versucht zu erklären, wie
ertschen die Welt verstehen und in ihr handeln. Die auf
Qualitative Informationen ausgerichtete Feldforschung
SeTbÖgllCht es, die Kulturabhängigkeit vermeintlicher
Anthri
^Verständlichkeiten zu entlarven. Die der sozialen
*eitw,
opologie eigene Form der Feldforschung, die eine
e f eise Integration in die zu untersuchende Gruppe
ordert, ist von anderen, oberflächlicheren Vorgehens-
^ lsen zu unterscheiden, auch wenn sich diese mit dem
** der Feldforschung zu schmücken suchen. Gut
an S,tantBerte anekdotische Belege sind vielfach näher
z er Wahrheit als große statistische Erhebungen, die
Zahlen produzieren, aber deren Ausgangs-
tne 6. n'cht immer der Realität entsprechen. Ökono-
eine leben nackte Zahlen, während Anthropologen auch
sje n Bersönlichen Blick ins Wohnzimmer werfen, bevor
j^lch eine Meinung bilden.
Mefhen Beiträgen liegt ein an dieser Feldforschung als
po] 0(*e orientiertes Verständnis der sozialen Anthro-
Cle zugrunde. So steht das Aufzeigen und Erklären
E*er sozialer Fragestellungen im Vordergrund, die
lcklung großer grundlegender Theorien,
wie sie
Aoth
r°P0s 101.2006
z. B. Fikentscher in seinem gerade in zweiter Auflage er-
schienenen Werk “Modes of Thought” leistet, versuchen
die Beiträge nicht. Die Beiträge sind teilweise Berichte
über einzelne Feldforschungen und teilweise Übersichts-
aufsätze über die anthropologische Forschung zu einem
Thema. In letztere Kategorie fällt etwa Jane Schneiders
Beitrag “World Markets; Anthropological Perspectives”,
der einen Überblick über anthropologische Forschung
zur weltweiten Ausbreitung der westlichen Variante der
Marktwirtschaft gibt. Die Kultur des freien Marktes ist
mit folgenden Annahmen verbunden; Das Streben nach
Vorteil und Gewinn ist die wichtigste Quelle mensch-
lichen Verhaltens. Märkte treiben den Fortschritt vor-
an und sollen daher nicht durch Regulierung gehemmt
werden. Ungestörte Märkte können für alle Menschen
Glück und Wohlstand bringen. Soweit Märkte Armut
und Wohlstandsgefälle erzeugen, handelt es sich um
vorübergehende Zustände, die oft durch Fehler der Ver-
lierer zu erklären sind.
Die vorgestellte anthropologische Forschung stellt
die westlichen Theorien samt der Annahme ihrer Uni-
versalität auf den Prüfstand. Ein wichtiger früher Beitrag
in der Erforschung anderer Kulturen mit verschiede-
nen Strukturen ist die Beschreibung einer Kultur des
Schenkens von Mauss. Für den Leser drängt sich hier
die Assoziation mit der “open source” Bewegung im
Bereich von Computersoftware auf, die z. B. hinter dem
Betriebssystem Linux steht. Von Aktualität für viele
Länder sind Polanyis kritische Analysen der Privatisie-
rung des bislang für alle zur Nutzung zur Verfügung
stehenden Landes im 18. Jh. in England (enclosure).
Dies zwang die Bauern, ihre Arbeit zu verkaufen, und
schuf damit einen Markt für Arbeit. Arbeit, Land und
Kapital wurden damit zu Waren, die Gegenstand von
Kosten-Nutzen-Analysen sind. Einige Länder haben erst
kürzlich eine solche Entwicklung erlebt. Spannend -
auch für denjenigen, dem dies zu sehr nach grober Kapi-
talismuskritik ausschaut - ist die dahinter liegende Fra-
ge, welche Lebensbereiche und Sachen alle dem Markt
unterworfen werden sollen, und die Klarstellung, dass
die Antwort keine Selbstverständlichkeit, sondern von
der jeweiligen Kultur abhängig ist. Je nach kulturellem
Wertmaßstab kann sich die Überlegenheit des westlichen
Systems relativieren. Die vielfältigen Beispiele für alter-
native Vorstellungen von Eigentum aus aller Welt, die
Schneider anführt, mögen für sich betrachtet als Anoma-
lien erscheinen, in ihrer Gesamtheit erzwingen sie aber
eine Relativierung des westlichen Systems als naturge-
gebener Ordnung. Schneider präsentiert viel Material
und überlässt die Bewertung weitgehend dem Leser.
Unter den Überschriften “Global Factory” und
“Financial Markets and Structural Adjustment” stellt
Schneider anschließend Studien der Folgen des ökono-
mischen Wandels in Ländern vor, in denen jetzt Wa-
ren für den Weltmarkt produziert und konsumiert wer-
den. Negativ betroffene Arbeiter können passiv bleiben
(Michigan, USA), aggressiv nach außen gegen die Re-
gierung sein (Bolivien) oder aggressiv nach innen inner-
halb der sozialen Gruppe reagieren (Mexiko). Schneider
streift Überlegungen zum Verhältnis Markt und Kultur
304
Rezensionen
mit dem Extremfall der USA, in denen der Markt heute
die Kultur darstellt. Der abschließende Ausblick weist
darauf hin, dass, wenn China wieder eine Weltmacht
wird, die chinesische Kultur die Vorherrschaft des west-
lichen Marktmodells mit einer chinesischen Variante der
Ökonomie herausfordern könnte.
Alex de Waals Beitrag “Anthropology and the Aid
Encounter” enthält zwei schlagende Beispiele für die
Notwendigkeit, die westliche Brille abzusetzen und den
Dingen auf den Grund zu gehen. In Äthopien konnten
Hilfsorganisationen nicht verstehen, warum die hun-
gernden Flüchtlinge die Lager verlassen wollten und
nach Ansicht der Helfer in den sicheren Tod marschie-
ren wollten. Erst anthropologische Forschung über die
Strategien der Betroffenen für Hungersnöte brachte den
Grund ans Tageslicht. Die Flüchtlinge waren nicht völlig
perspektivlos ins Flüchtlingslager gekommen, sondern
planten die Zeit im Flüchtlingslager nur als eine kurz-
fristige Überbrückung, und jetzt war es mit dem einset-
zenden Regen Zeit, wieder die Felder zu bestellen, die
samt Saatgut und Ochsen auf sie warteten. Das andere
Beispiel wirft ein kritisches Licht auf den IWF. Der IWF
presste den Sudan in ein Zwangskorsett, weil man sich
auf falsche Zahlen verließ. Die amtlichen Statistiken
ließen, wie durch anthropologische Methoden ermittelt
wurde, den riesigen Zufluß harter Währungen von in den
Golfstaaten arbeitenden Sudanesen völlig außer Acht, so
dass versucht wurde, ein so nicht vorhandenes Problem
des Zahlungsausgleichs zu behandeln.
David Napiers Beitrag “Our Own Way: On Anthro-
pology and Intellectual Property” ist von Leidenschaft
geprägt. Thema ist der Schutz von Naturvölkern vor
der Ausbeutung ihres Wissens etwa um die Heilwirkung
bestimmter Pflanzen durch westliche Unternehmen. Es
geht also um den Wissenstransfer von “denen” zu “uns”.
Napier stört sich vehement daran, dass die Völker an den
Profiten der westlichen Unternehmen nicht hinreichend
beteiligt werden. Napier ist zuzustimmen, dass unsere
Wege, Wissen zu einer Ware zu machen, an der man
“geistiges Eigentum” haben kann, sehr kulturspezifisch
sind und kaum in ihrer Gesamtheit Universalität bean-
spruchen können. Der Westen bringt die Naturvölker
in ein Dilemma, weil sie sich den westlichen Formen
unterwerfen müssten, um am Gewinn beteiligt zu wer-
den. Die Schwächen von internationalen Konventionen
und vertraglichen Lösungen werden ausgiebig erläutert.
Von unmittelbarem juristischen Interesse ist die unglei-
che Behandlung von Gruppenwissen, auf die Napier
hinweist. Die Figur der juristischen Person macht es
möglich, dass hunderte Menschen eine Erfindung ken-
nen, sie aber nicht als Allgemeinwissen behandelt wird,
weil die Menschen unter der juristischen Person zu einer
einzigen Person zusammengefasst werden. Naturvölker,
in denen sogar weniger Individuen eingeweiht sein
mögen, wird hingegen die fehlende Handelsregisterein-
tragung “Naturvolk XY Inc.” zum Verhängnis, weil eine
größere Zahl von eingeweihten individuellen Personen
oft die Patentierbarkeit hindert. Aus juristischer Sicht
ist zustimmend zu ergänzen, dass dies nicht ernsthaft
das letzte Wort sein kann: Wir nehmen uns das Wissen
ohne Gegenleistung, lassen aber unsere Weiterentwick-
lungen in jenen Ländern über TRIPs patentieren!? Wenn
dies die Konsequenz der Dogmatik ist, dann ist etwas
mit der Dogmatik nicht in Ordnung. Das Patentrecht
ist zur Schaffung eines Mindestmaßes an anthropologi-
scher Fairness aufgerufen. So muss man erwägen, solche
Völker für Zwecke des Patentschutzes gegebenenfalls
als juristische Personen zu fingieren.
Einen wichtigen eurozentrischen Einwand gegen
einen Schutz für die Naturvölker spricht Napier nicht
an. Strikt ökonomisch besteht die Rechtfertigung für Pa-
tente und sonstige “geistige Eigentumsrechte” allein in
der Anreizfunktion, wie dies in den USA, anders als in
Europa etwa für das Urheberrecht, auch der Rechtslage
entspricht. Da die Naturvölker nicht aktiv forschen, son-
dern “nur” traditionelles Wissen weitergeben, ist in juris-
tischer Terminologie die ratio legis für den Schutz nicht
erfüllt. So zu argumentieren, wäre aber eher zynisch
und unangebracht, weil der positive Beweis, dass das
westliche Patentsystem (außerhalb von speziellen Fällen
wie der Pharmaindustrie) die Forschung tatsächlich sub-
stantiell beflügelt und effizienter ist als öffentlich finan-
zierte Forschung, bislang ebenso wenig erbracht wurde
wie der Beweis dafür, dass der Nutzen des Zuwachs an
Forschung den durch die Monopolstellung der Unter-
nehmen auf Seiten der Abnehmer eintretenden Schaden
aufwiegt.
Viele weitere Beiträge, z. B. zu den Rechten von Kin-
dern, liefern die eindringliche Anregung, die westliche
Sichtweise wenigstens kurz abzulegen und sich für neue
Perspektiven zu öffnen. Insgesamt ist der vorliegende
Sammelband hervorragend gelungen und wird seinem
Ziel, die soziale Anthropologie aus dem Exotenwinkel
zu holen und in das Bewusstsein anderer Wissenschafte11
zu rücken, in hervorragender Weise gerecht.
Markus Müller
McKnight, David: Going the Whiteman’s Way-
Kinship and Marriage among Australian Aborigines-
Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2004. 252 pp. ISBN 0'
7546-4238-0. Price: £45.00
Following a 2002 special issue of the Australia11
journal Anthropological Forum entitled “Kinship ana
Change in Aboriginal Australia” (vol. 12/2), a recent
special issue of the Australian Journal of Anthropology
(16.2005/1), “Paradigm Lost? The Study of Kinship
in the 21st Century,” reported on kinship’s death an
recent resurrection (1). David McKnight’s interest in №
subject, however, has never faded since he first starts
his anthropological fieldwork on Momington Island 111
1966. His continued interest over some 35 years has
added greatly to the scope and detail provided in thlS
latest work, “Going the Whiteman’s Way.”
Here, in classical anthropological terms, he focus ^
on the differences between the ideal and the
in respect of kinship and marriage practices
Aboriginal people of the Wellesley Islands —
of Carpentaria, Australia. Within that area, Morning10
Island and the Lardil “tribe” feature most prominent)
Anthropos 101 -20^
real (xxvj
amongst th^
in the Gult
Rezensionen
305
His previous work, “People, Countries, and the Rainbow
Serpent: Systems of Classification amongst the Lardil of
Mornington Island” (1999), which focuses on the Lardil
“tribe” and their country identifications, was relied upon
by Cooper J. of the Federal Court of Australia in the
matter of the Lardil Native Title Claim (see [2004] FCA
298). In his latest work, McKnight convincingly shows
that for the Lardil “it is not identification with Country
which determines or plays a crucial role in determining
what people call one another” (85). Rather, “supposed
genealogical relationships and marital histories were the
operative criteria” (85). Referring to “Countries,” how-
ever, although intended as general indications of their
locations only, McKnight has included some erroneous
references to the Kimberley in his map of “Tribes and
Places in Australia” (xxxi). The Lungu, for example (i.e.,
Lunga, or Kija speaking people), should be mapped
further to the southeast, while, despite my two years
of work there, the Wilawa and Warma remain unknown
groupings to me. Wilawa, however, given its location on
lhe map, might refer to Wurla, a language of the North
Kimberley Language Family.
The most outstanding features of this book are the
various case studies of the political power struggles
between the old and the young as evident in a selection
°1 richly described marriage disputes on Mornington
island. Similarly thorough are the analyses of changes
that occurred there in tracing the subsection membership
°f children born in unions considered not to be “straight-
head.” The Lardil marriage system is of the Aranda-type,
^ith a preferred marriage between MMBDC/FFZSC.
brought into the centre of the study, however, are
¡Ke irregular marriages which contravene “the system.”
through their irregularity, with the husband and wife
Possessing subsections that should ideally not marry,
arnbiguous situations arise as to how to trace the sub-
action membership of any children; through the moth-
or through the father. McKnight observed in detail
°w such marriages and resultant ambiguities are used
y the elders as opportunities to make public political
Paiements in defence of the “old” ways. For the older
deration they were in fact one of the few opportunities
gaining to assert some kind of authority, for they had
«their more physical methods of persuasion in terms
the spear, the club, and sorcery” (226). Through
x.°ng-term analysis of these ambiguities and disputes
th^Knight indeed found himself on fertile grounds for
study of social change.
KlcKnight’s continuing interest in the emotional and
r ^hological aspects of kinship (xiii) has inter alia
^ Red in a focus on the prescribed and observed be-
repl0Ur between individuals in named kin and affinal
J^Hslfips (part I). The abundant details and clear
SlVee the descriptions, combined with a comprehen-
ini e knowledge of the theoretical debates, are most def-
“st ^ strengths of this book. His findings regarding
'Vo however, are not always as transparent as I
stirn C ^aVe bked. If I draw various aspects together in
*h*«y. McKnight, for example, seems to argue that,
e the changed marriage practices amongst young
people, referred to locally as “going the Whiteman’s
way” or “marrying for love,” are also linked to their
“ignorance of tradition” (222) and an apparently “nearly
completely changed [situation in the way] how power
is perceived and managed by Mornington Islanders, ...
the basic structural situation remains unchanged” (xxi).
McKnight nevertheless also warns against too much
rigidity with the particular argument that “if kinship and
marriage were systemic and prescriptive there would be
little or no discussion and fights ...” (225). Although
this argument is not convincing in itself, McKnight has
provided ample evidence that irregular marriages and
disputes always formed part of “the system.” While I
readily accept that, I think some further consideration
by McKnight of the terms “system” and “structure,”
as related to both his understanding of anthropological
theory and locally observed practices, would have been
appropriate here. Those issues could have been explored
when he summarises the difficulty by stating that “de-
pending on how one views systems and social phenom-
ena, kinship is not a thing in itself and yet it is also a
thing in itself’ (231). In my opinion, these views and
their consequences deserved some further clarification.
In part I, as mentioned, the author provides char-
acterisations of various Lardil paternal, maternal, and
affinal relationships. A total of 19 relationships are
reviewed, focused on the terminology used and the
contrast between the prescribed and observed forms of
behaviour. A chapter on wrong marriages and changes
in relationships, the concluding chapter, in effect serves
as an introduction to the marriage disputes described in
part III. Throughout this first part, McKnight introduces
the main principles governing the use of kinship and
affinal terms but also points the readers’ attention to
certain manipulations and anomalies that seem to defy
the “system” as referred to above.
Part II is entitled “Classes and Identity” and, besides
an interesting perspective on totemism and the diffu-
sion route of the subsection system, includes the most
rewarding section on the observed changes in tracing
subsection membership. Here, the depth of his fieldwork
has allowed McKnight to make a number of evaluations
that show how, in quantative terms, a shift occurred
from tracing subsection membership through the mother
amongst older people (over 50 years), to tracing that
membership through the father amongst younger people
(younger than 50 years). In the final conclusions of
the book McKnight articulates an explanation for this
particular development by stating that “with the decline
of rituals [initiation ceremonies, childhood yirri cere-
monies, betrothal deneenymen ceremonies, and mortuary
rituals, all related to matrilateral authority] many people
became uncertain of what their [ritual] duties were ...
[and] into this breach stepped fathers whose rights were
buttressed and partly created by the missionaries” (224).
McKnight has included a particularly strong example of
missionary viewpoints through the transcripts of state-
ments made during a marriage dispute by the missionary
Rev. Belcher, but I suggest the local practice of this “cre-
ating” and “buttressing” could have been given some
Vl>thr
'°P°s 101.2006
306
Rezensionen
more attention in order to further illustrate the impact
of missionary life on ritual and kinship practices.
Part III is fully dedicated to marriage disputes and
contains a 40-page case study of a particular mar-
riage dispute, referred to above, interestingly portrayed
through the transcripts of a public “Meeting of Elders.”
These transcripts give the reader a valuable insight into
the rhetoric that various older people apply in rela-
tion to such cases, but it must also be understood in
light of other social changes that are occurring around
them. Their diminishing capacities to control the be-
haviour and marriages of the young people stand out
in particular. The missionary Rev. Belcher participates
in this discussion but, as McKnight observes, while he
is sympathetic to their arguments, he engages on sub-
stantially different cultural premises. As he represents
Whiteman’s law, he also engages from a substantially
different, and dominant, power position. Importantly, the
younger people had learned to use these circumstances
to their advantage, knowing the missionary would sup-
port their intentions to “marry for love” if they were
old enough to do so under Whiteman’s law. To a large
extent then the old people were fighting a losing battle,
and, as can be concluded from the transcripts, they
knew it.
At the end of Part III, McKnight provides an analysis
of 6 additional marriage disputes in which the tensions
between both maternal and paternal relations come
to the fore. In these examples too, particularly in
relation to making marriage arrangements, McKnight
demonstrates a shift towards the dominance of fathers.
Again, the excellent attention to detail is a highlight
worth mentioning here.
In conclusion, this latest work by David McKnight
is extraordinarily rich in detail and substantially con-
tributes to the anthropological analysis of social change.
While the title of the book suggests cultural loss and a
relatively one-way development, his focus on the ideal
and the real has resulted in fascinating descriptions of
the “system” versus the observed practices of inventive
human beings. Through that focus, McKnight has con-
vincingly demonstrated, in varying forms, the continued
importance and resilience of named kin and affinal re-
lationships amongst the Lardil of Mornington Island. In
my view, it is especially this aspect of practice, with its
inconsistencies, anomalies, and disputes, that has made
this book into necessary reading for every anthropol-
ogist interested in Australian Aboriginal kinship and
marriage. Kim de Rijke
Marx, Christoph: Geschichte Afrikas. Von 1800 bis
zur Gegenwart. Paderborn: Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh,
2004. 391 pp. ISBN 3-8252-2566-6. (UTB Geschichte,
2566) Preis: € 18,90
Das Werk befasst sich mit der Geschichte des afri-
kanischen Kontinents während der letzten zweihundert
Jahre. Sofern die Wurzeln bestimmter Erscheinungen
wie etwa die des Sklavenhandels zeitlich darüber hinaus
greifen, werden auch diese in die Betrachtung mit ein-
gezogen. Alle Regionen Afrikas, auch der in vergleich-
baren Werken oft ausgeklammerte Norden und Süden,
werden berücksichtigt. Angesichts der Begrenzung des
zur Verfügung stehenden Raums erwächst dem Autor ein
Massenproblem. Auf der einen Seite hat er das Bestre-
ben, sich über ein reines Nachschlagewerk mit Stich-
wortcharakter zu erheben und auch die Interaktionen
sowie die gedanklichen Hintergründe individueller Ak-
teure der afrikanischen Geschichte mit einzubeziehen,
andererseits möchte er dem Leser in der verwirrenden
Fülle der historischen Aspekte und Themen, die mit der
Vielfalt eines ganzen Kontinents von 52 unabhängigen
Staaten und weit über tausend gewachsenen und teil-
weise sehr divergenten Kulturen verbunden sind, den
Durchblick vermitteln. Dies gelingt ihm in didaktisch
vorbildlicher Weise dadurch, dass er das Werk straff
gliedert und in der Darstellung eine Mischung aus struk-
turgeschichtlichen Informationen, biographischen Noti-
zen zu den jeweiligen Akteuren und monographischen
Einschüben zu einzelnen Themen und Problemkreisen
bietet.
Seiner Grundstruktur nach besteht das Werk aus drei
Teilen. Der erste Teil, etwas dunkel mit “Expansion
überschrieben, befasst sich zunächst mit der Entwick-
lung vom Sklavenhandel zu den Handelssystemen des
19. Jhs. Ein besonderes Unterkapitel (Kap. 1.2) behan-
delt die in Südafrika praktizierte Transformation der
1834 durch das britische Parlament abgeschafften Skla-
verei in sublimere, aber gleichfalls diskriminierende
Abhängigkeitsverhältnisse, die bis 1974 de jure in Kraft
blieben. Das zweite Kapitel, “Eroberungen und Reichs-
bildungen” überschrieben, thematisiert die Ereignisse im
Einflussbereich der Kapkolonie im südlichen Afrika, den
von Frankreich eroberten Gebieten in Algerien und am
Senegal, die Entstehung der islamischen Herrschaften
in den ariden und semiariden Gebieten Zentralafrikas
und die Etablierung eines christlichen Kaisertums m
Äthiopien. Die verstärkte Präsenz der Europäer auf dem
afrikanischen Kontinent induzierte staatliche Reformen
auf Seiten einiger Länder in allen Teilen Afrikas, um
ihre Herrschaftsbereiche vor dem europäischen Zugriff
zu sichern. Diese Thematik ist im dritten Kapitel abge'
handelt.
Das vierte Kapitel betrifft vornehmlich die Au®'
breitung von Islam und Christentum zwischen 18°1
und 1880. Etwas unvermutet werden darunter in einem
Unterkapitel (Kap. 4.3) auch die europäischen Afrika'
forscher subsumiert, obschon sie durchaus nicht aHe
Missionare waren, wie die dort eingefügte biographisch2
Miszelle über Heinrich Barth zeigt. Im fünften Kapft2
befasst sich der Autor unter der Überschrift “EinwaU
derung und Siedlung” mit Menschen, die von and2
ren Kontinenten kamen, um sich auf Dauer in Afrika
niederzulassen. Schwerpunktmäßig wird die Landnahm2
der Franzosen in Algerien, die Rückwanderung betreu
Sklaven aus Amerika nach Sierra Leone und Libcr
sowie die Zuwanderung britischer Siedler in die ehema
burische Kapkolonie behandelt.
Die Kapitel 6 und 7 thematisieren, dem chronolog1^
sehen Faden folgend, zunächst die koloniale Aufteim p
Anthropos 101.20°
Rezensionen
307
Afrikas und anschließend die europäisch-afrikanischen
Kolonialkriege, die sich daraus ergaben. Dem Herero-
krieg in Deutsch-Südwestafrika (Kap. 7.5) und dem Ma-
jimaji-Krieg in Ostafrika (Kap. 7.6) sind jeweils eigene
Unterkapitel gewidmet. In der Diktion folgt der Autor
dabei plakativ und ohne Diskussion der allgemeinen
Sichtweise vor allem deutscher Historiker, den Here-
ro-Krieg als “Völkermord” zu bezeichnen. Inzwischen
gibt es Untersuchungen (Andreas E. Eckl: “S’ist ein
übles Land hier.” Zur Historiographie eines umstritte-
nen Kolonialkrieges. Tagebuchaufzeichnungen aus dem
Herero-Krieg in Deutsch-Südwestafrika 1904 von Georg
Hillebrecht und Franz Ritter von Epp. Köln 2005), die
Wohlbegründet in der Sache eine andere Meinung ver-
beten, ohne dabei die Gräuel an den Herero in Abrede
zu stellen. Als Literatur zum Majimaji-Krieg, dessen
Ausbruch sich 2005 zum hundersten Mal jährt, wäre als
Weiterführende Literatur noch die thematisch einschlägi-
ge und sehr informative Monographie von Jigal Beez
(Geschosse zu Wassertropfen. Köln 2003) nachzutragen.
Der zweite Hauptteil (Kap. 8 und 9) trägt den Titel
Lebenswelten unter kolonialer Herrschaft”. Der Au-
tor beschreibt die sozialen und politischen Verhältnisse
ln den Kolonien der einzelnen europäischen Mächte
Schwerpunktmäßig in den 1920er Jahren, wobei er
zunächst die Kolonien nach den Kolonialherren ein-
teilt und anschließend nach unterschiedlichen Typen der
kolonialen Ausbeutung in Plantagen-, Bergbau- oder
Siedlerkolonien. Dies Vorgehen ist insofern angemes-
Sen, als die Mitwirkungsmöglichkeiten der afrikani-
Schen Bevölkerung an ihrer eigenen Verwaltung und ihre
Abhängigkeit von den Rechtsordnungen, denen sie sich
uuterwerfen mussten in der Tat je nach Kolonialmacht
kochst unterschiedlich waren. Hinzu kam, dass die po-
'tische Dominanz der Siedler je nach Wirtschaftstyp
^schieden ausgeprägt war. Auch spielte es in Ost- und
Südafrika eine große Rolle, ob man als Siedler aus ei-
neiu europäischen Staat oder aus Asien kam. In dem Un-
terabschnitt “Nicht-privilegierte Siedler aus Südasien”
"0) findet sich eine Miszelle über Gandhi, der bis zu
girier Heimkehr nach Indien in Südafrika lebte und dort
en friedlichen Widerstand der indischen Siedler gegen
le diskriminierende Kolonialgesetzgebung der Briten
0r§anisierte.
Der zweite Hauptteil gibt darüber hinaus dem Au-
r Gelegenheit, auf eine Vielzahl von Themen einzu-
^ehen, etwa auf die koloniale Infrastruktur (Kap. 9.1),
s*e landwirtschaftliche Entwicklung (Kap. 9.2), das Ge-
^’ndheitswesen (Kap. 9.3), die Situation der Frauen
^P- 9.4), das Verhalten der einheimischen Bevölke-
gegenüber kolonialen Maßnahmen (Kap. 9.5) so-
. e die teilweise rasante Entwicklung der Städte mit
n Vor- und Nachteilen des urbanen Lebens für die
okanische Bevölkerung (Kap. 9.6). In diesem Unter-
‘k ltCl ^nc*et sich ein® längere Miszelle mit dem Titel
niturgeschichte: Zum Beispiel der Kampf ums Bier”
Ler]teC^t (201 ff.). Die Ausführungen des Autors über
afrifUtUn^ un(* Auswirkungen des Alkoholgenusses in
anischen Gesellschaften sind völlig korrekt, wenn
n darunter eine Fallstudie etwa für die Völker des
nthropos 101.2006
südlichen Ghana versteht. Sie wirken jedoch klischee-
haft und pauschal, wenn man auch andere afrikanische
Gesellschaften und Regionen mit in Betracht zieht. Na-
hezu jede Gesellschaft hat andere Regeln des Alkohol-
konsums entwickelt und unter den Augen europäischer
Beobachter diese auf ihre Weise transformiert, so dass
beim gegenwärtigen Forschungsstand eine allgemeine
Theorie zu dem gesellschaftlich höchst wichtigen Thema
im Afrika der 1920er Jahre noch verfrüht erscheint.
Instruktiver und ausgewogener sind die nächsten Ka-
pitel über Religion und Missionierung (Kap. 9.7), das
Kulturleben und den Habitus (Kap. 9.8-9.9) sowie die
Entstehung sozialer Gruppierungen unter der afrikani-
schen Arbeiterschaft (Kap. 9.10). Die letzten beiden Ka-
pitel des zweiten Hauptteils, “Politische Strömungen”
(Kap. 9.11) und “Nationalismus: Ägypten - Südafrika”
(Kap. 9.12) greifen eigentlich schon über die 1920er
Jahre hinaus in die Zeit nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg.
Hier verlässt der Autor häufig seinen deskriptiven Stil
zugunsten eines mehr argumentativen Stils. In vielen
seiner Aussagen kann man ihm folgen, zumal diese auch
weitgehend herrschender Lehre entsprechen.
Der dritte Teil des Werkes (Kap. 10-14) trägt die
Überschrift “Brüche und Kontinuitäten”. Auf 136 Seiten
wird hier die gesamte Entwicklung von den 1930er
Jahren bis zur Gegenwart abgehandelt. Bei der Fülle und
der Vielfalt der Fakten sicherlich ein schwieriges Unter-
fangen, das der Autor unter Beachtung der Chronologie
und der Herausarbeitung innerer Zusammenhänge und
Abläufe jedoch gut meistert, ohne dabei dem Leser seine
eigenen Anschauungen und Meinungen zu den oft wi-
dersprüchlichen Vorgängen vorzuenthalten. Im 10. Ka-
pitel, das zugleich das erste Kapitel dieses Teils ist, wird
die Entwicklung von der Weltwirtschaftskrise, die sich
auch in Afrika bis auf die Dorfebene hinab auswirkte,
bis zur Unabhängigkeit der ersten afrikanischen Staaten
abgehandelt. Der in dieser Phase allenthalben spürba-
re Nationalismus erfüllte nur auf dem Wege zur Un-
abhängigkeit eine wichtige politische Funktion, später
nach Meinung des Autors (251) jedoch nicht mehr. Was
dann daraus entstand, war der Patronagestaat mit seinen
bekannten Protagonisten Kwame Nkrumah, Léopold Sé-
dar Senghor, Hastings Banda und Idi Amin. Dem ist das
11. Kapitel gewidmet.
Unter der Überschrift “Der Einbruch der Wirtschaft”
werden in Kapitel 12 nicht nur globale Faktoren wie
die Ölkrise von 1973 (Kap. 12.2) oder der Ost-West-
Konflikt (Kap. 12.3) abgehandelt, sondern auch innere
Faktoren wie die Ujamaa-Bewegung in Tansania oder
der allenthalben aufkeimende Nepotismus in der Politik
(Kap. 12.6). Der Autor bringt alle diese Faktoren in
einen Zusammenhang mit den einheimischen Volkswirt-
schaften und deren Niedergang. Die nachkolonialen Bil-
dungssysteme (Kap. 13), die einerseits an der nachlas-
senden Finanzkraft der Staaten, andererseits an der de-
mographischen Explosion zu leiden hatten, wurden auf
Seiten der Regierten zu Keimzellen des Protests gegen
die regierenden Klassen und Cliquen. Trotz des äußeren
Drucks, demokratische Verhältnisse einzuführen, ent-
standen nur selten demokratische Strukturen. Stattdes-
308
Rezensionen
sen waren Terror sowie mitunter Jahrzehnte andauernde
Bürgerkriege und Staatszerfall die Folge (Kap. 13.4-
13.5).
Im Schlusskapitel 14 werden unter der Überschrift
“Gesellschaftliche und kulturelle Entwicklungen am En-
de des 20. Jahrhunderts” ganz unterschiedliche Aspekte
des gesellschaftlichen Lebens in Afrika zusammenge-
fasst. Dazu gehört die gigantische Zunahme der Urbani-
sierung (Kap. 14.1), die Entstehung einer sogenannten
Zivilgesellschaft (Kap. 14.3) ebenso wie die religiöse
Emanzipation der einfachen Bevölkerung (Kap. 14.4).
Einige Unterkapitel zum Schluss des dritten Teils haben
mehr zusammenfassenden Charakter, so die Ausführun-
gen zum “Kulturleben am Ende des Jahrhunderts”
(Kap. 14.5), “Intellektuelle, Gewalt und die Abwande-
rung” (Kap. 14.6), “Kulturelle Medien und Institutio-
nen” (Kap. 14.7) sowie die Entwicklung der Landwirt-
schaft (Kap. 14.8). Diese Themen hätten eigentlich eige-
ne Monographien erfordert, was aus Platzgründen hier
nicht möglich war. Trotzdem verwundert es ein wenig,
dass das wichtige AIDS-Problem mit seinen für Afrika
geradezu apokalyptischen Ausmaßen nur in der Einlei-
tung zum 14. Kapitel mit einigen Zeilen zur Sprache
kommt.
Für den Leser, der sich vertieft mit dem einen oder
anderen Thema befassen möchte, sind alle Kapitel mit
einer Auswahl weiterführender Literatur versehen. Ei-
ne weitere thematische Bibliographie findet sich am
Schluss des Buches ebenso wie ein Verzeichnis wich-
tiger Internetadressen. Ein Abbildungsnachweis und ein
Namens- und Sachregister runden das Werk ab.
Das Buch ist trotz der ungeheueren Materialfülle auf
teilweise bis zu fünf hierarchischen Ebenen übersichtlich
gegliedert. Photos und Karten lockern den Text, der
intellektuell auf einem hohen Niveau, trotzdem auch
für einen Fachfremden gut verständlich gestaltet ist, auf.
Gliederung und Schlagwortregister ermöglichen es dem
Leser, sich auch zu einzelnen Fragen schnell informieren
zu können, ohne das Werk vom Anfang an lesen zu
müssen. Das Buch eignet sich daher gut zum themati-
schen Einstieg für Studenten der Afrika-Wissenschaften,
für Politologen, Journalisten, Entwicklungshelfer und
letztlich für jeden an Afrika interessierten Laien. Ob
es dem Autor wirklich gelungen ist, eine Geschichte zu
verfassen, in der die Afrikaner als geschichtlich Han-
delnde (12) auftreten, mag angesichts seiner von euro-
päischen Geschichtstraditionen nicht ganz unbeeinfluss-
ten Betrachtungsweise für einzelne Abschnitte bezwei-
felt werden. Er ist zwar ohne die ethnologischen Kon-
zepte von “Stamm”, “Ethnie” und ethnische “Identität”
ausgekommen (15), aber schließlich hat er sich auch
mit der Geschichte von Nationen und nicht mit der
Geschichte auf dem Niveau von Ethnien innerhalb der
Nationen befasst. Wie dem auch sei. Es ist ein modernes
und sehr informatives Werk entstanden, zu dem man den
Autor beglückwünschen kann.
Wilhelm J. G. Möhlig
Mauzé, Marie, Michael E. Harkin, and Sergei Kan
(eds.): Coming to Shore. Northwest Coast Ethnology,
Traditions, and Visions. Lincoln: University of Nebras-
ka Press, 2004. 508 pp. ISBN 0-8032-8296-6. Price:
$ 29.95
With “Coming to Shore,” the outcome of the North-
west Coast Ethnology Conference, held in June 2000 at
the Collège de France in Paris, finally returns to port
with a collection of invigorating essays. The choice
of venue and timing - just one year after Claude Lé-
vi-Strauss’s 90th birthday - and his presence, as an
honoree, at the conference, is the emblematic leitmotif.
As the editors point out in their thought-provoking and
well-constructed introductory essay, “neither side played
‘host’ to the other’s ‘guest,’ and as a consequence, ...
differences were perhaps more openly addressed” (xiii).
In this case, American, Canadian, French, and other
European scholars picked up the thread of the French
tradition with Claude Lévi-Strauss and the American
school with the German-educated Franz Boas.
The volume opens with Claude Lévi-Strauss’s essay
reflecting upon his visit of the Pacific Northwest Coast
Hall at the American Museum of Natural History, some
60 years ago - and finally Northwest Coast art entering
the Louvre - a milestone regarding the transformation of
ethnographic objects to art (“Reflections on Northwest
Coast Ethnology”).
This introduction is followed by twenty-one essays,
grouped into four thematic sections. In the first thematic
section (“The Legacy of Northwest Coast Research”),
Régna Darnell argues that despite “fundamental differ-
ences” in their paradigms, Claude Lévi-Strauss’s French
approach, based on “Enlightment rationalism and uni'
versalism” and the “German-turned-American” (7) Franz
Boas and his “Germanic ... Weltanschauung” (21), their
schools converge, stimulate, and complement one an-
other (“Text, Symbol, and Tradition in Northwest Coast
Ethnology from Franz Boas to Claude Lévi-Strauss”)-
Her statement, characterizing the American school as
“remarkably insular, a myopia reflected more in super'
ficiality of historicists consciousness than actuality," Ф
will undoubtedly anchor many discussions in the field-
Frederica de Laguna looks back on her scholarly
career spanning seven decades, during which she was
active until her end. This not only offers an illuminatiiU
autobiographical insight into finding her true vocation-
she also indulges us with her personal thoughts an
insights and sets a path and a benchmark for futur6
generations of female anthropologists (“Becoming al1
Anthropologist: My Dept to European and Other Scho
ars Who Influenced Me”).
Marie-Françoise Guédon, a former student of
Laguna, follows de Laguna’s footsteps and strong con1
mitment to the four-fields approach to Northwest
ethnology and extending the mainstream definition
Northwest Coast “as something that starts with the Ь
lish and ends with the Tlingits” (53) (“Crossing Bonn
aries: Homage to Frederica de Laguna”). g
Marie Mauzé (“When the Northwest Coast HaU°
French Anthropology: A Discrete but Lasting Presence
Anthropos Ю1
.2006
Rezensionen
309
traces French influence on Northwest Coast anthropol-
ogy from the early 19th century French explorers to
the “giants” of French anthropology, Lévi-Strauss and
Mauss. Remarkably, Lévi-Strauss, who actually never
conducted extended fieldwork, discovered the key to
certain mythological problems, such as in Boas’s minute
collection of Kwakiutl salmon recipes. As Mauzé re-
marks, “a characteristically French juxtaposition of food
and thought” (79).
Pierre Maranda, a French-Canadian anthropologist,
deals with the introduction and promotion of structural-
ism which reached the New World in the late 1960s and
early 1970s (“Structuralism at the University of British
Columbia, 1969 Onward”).
Majorie Myers Halpin, who tragically passed away
shortly after the conference, focuses similarly on the
interpretation and application of “Lévi-Straussian Struc-
turalism on the Northwest Coast.” Her paper, there-
fore, serves as a tribute to the memory of a distin-
guished scholar in Northwest coast studies (xx). Mar-
garet Seguin Anderson (“Asdiwal: Surveying the Ethno-
graphic Ground”) explores Lévi-Strauss’s famous essay
°n the Asdiwal story, testing Lévi-Strauss’s hypothesis
against contemporary Tsimshian ethnographic data.
In the second thematic section, “Texts and Narra-
hves,” Judith Berman’s approach of exploring first-en-
counter narratives offers fascinating insights into the
complexity and diversity of this genre (“ ‘Some Myste-
n°us Means of Fortune’: A Look at North Pacific Coast
^ral History”). The Canadian poet, Robert Bringhurst,
°Pens up new vistas with his off-beat essay (“The
Audible Light in the Eyes: In Honor of Claude Lévi-
Strauss”). Comparing Haida literature with the works of
Old European Masters, Bringhurst invites the reader
l° “pay it the same attention and respect to that we rou-
hnely pay to works from Europe” (176). His provocative
Ascription of teaching literature in the Americas and
Selling pizza “as something foreign at its root, now also
J^ade - bigger if not better - in the good old U.S.A.”
^7), gives a fresh impetus to approaching the subject.
Marline J. Reid and Daisy Sewid-Smith, the grand-
aughter of noblewoman Agnes Alfred, provide with
eir essay (“Voices of One’s Life”), a foretaste of
^ adcUing to Where I Stand,” the first biography written
Л ar|d about a Kwakwakowakw woman at the turn of the
^th century.
tio *^е f°4°wing section, “History and Representa-
ns’ ’ Sergei Kan looks into the similarities and dif-
^rences of 19th century tourists visiting Sitka and the
Q,°uthwest (“‘It’s Only Half a Mile from Savagery to
lyfiization’: American Tourists and the Southeastern
aska Natives in the Late 19th Century”). Focusing on
as a< the tourists regarded the “salmon fed” Tlingits,
“ SuPerior to the rest of the Native America, on the
^аШе evolutionary ladder as the Japanese” (212). The
and°‘^ ^0Г c^ass^yin§ Alaskan Natives as less “exotic”
0y Picturesque” - an aspect which has been often
ite(j °oked - is as Kan suggests that most tourists vis-
Poti ^ns^e Passage during summer, when no major
atches took place.
Anth
r°pos 101.2006
Ira Jacknis reviews in her case study (“‘A Magic
Place’: The Northwest Coast Indian Hall at the Amer-
ican Museum of Natural History”) the history of the
hall and its influence on scholars, artists, and the pub-
lic. Interestingly, contrasting Boas’s desire for constant
change, for Holden Caulfield, the protagonist of J. D.
Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye” (Boston 1951), “the
best thing” was that in the American Hall “everything
always stayed right where it was” (241).
In the last thematic section, “Politics and Cultural
Heritage,” Richard and Nora Marks Dauenhauer deal
in their essay (“Evolving Concepts of Tlingit Identity
and Clan”) for the first time directly with the concept
of the changing clan identity. Although the authors also
stress that changes can be exiting since they prove that
a culture is “alive and not fossilized” - confusion will
no doubt continue and “time will tell” (267, 276, 278).
Aaron Glass deals in his essay (“The Intention of
Tradition: Contemporary Contexts and Contests of the
Hamat’sa Dance”) on the performance of the Hamat’sa
for entertainment and money, by non-Kwakwaka’wakw
and by women - current issues hotly debated in Native
communities - a “complex Hamat’sa” indeed.
Bruce G. Miller (“Rereading the Ethnographic Rec-
ord: The Problem of Justice in the Coast Salish World”)
discusses the value and challenges in examining his-
torical ethnographic materials dealing with prior justice
practices and their challenges and dangers in transferring
them to contemporary issues.
Daniel L. Boxberger examines the role of the “expert
witness,” and the value of oral histories in cases con-
cerning Native land and resources. Providing a forum for
Native perspectives, Patricia Pierce Erikson explores the
challenges of collaborative research, free from “ethical
angst” (355), fostering “finer-grained, more accurate,
and more reflexive ethnographies” (358) (“‘Defining
Ourselves through Baskets’: Museum Autoethnography
and the Makah Cultural and Research Center”). In his
essay, “The Geography of Tlingit Character,” Thomas
F. Thornton reflects on the relationships between place,
personhood, and character. He concludes that the ideal-
ized person in Tlingit society is not only highly knowl-
edgeable regarding his or her respective ancestral lands,
“but embodies and draws upon the character of the
land in a variety of material and symbolic ways to
develop, instill, and reflect individual and social group
character” (365).
Michael E. Harkin sets out the “Walk the Wilde
Side Heritage Trail”, developed by the Nuu-cha-nulth.
Following the physical footsteps of John Muir, Harkin
reflects on modern eco- and ethnotourism, traveling
trails possessing “too much trash and too little signage”
(399) and concludes that it is in the very “nature of trails
to resist any single meaning” (404).
Janine Bowechop’s discussion on “Contemporary
Makah Whaling” superbly illustrates the reactions and
opposition of non-Native peoples to the first whale
hunt in approximately 80 years in 1999. While most
of the member of the Neah Bay community watched
the hunt live on local TV, protesters and even non-Na-
310
Rezensionen
tive sympathizers - who had created images of Indians
“worshipping all mother earth’s creatures” - could not
fit this tradition into their framework of what “real and
good Indians” are supposed to do (418).
In closing, “Coming to Shore” not only features
many pivotal contributions from leading experts in the
field, but the volume also draws from the rich ex-
periences and dialogue between individuals from very
diverse cultural, professional, national. Native and non-
Native, and generational backgrounds. Although the vol-
ume, at first view, will appeal to readers with a special
interest in the area, it can also be highly recommend-
ed for junior students since it provides insights into
the history and theory of the discipline. Frederica de
Laguna’s descriptions of struggling with Lewis Henry
Morgan’s “Ancient Society” (1877), and funding her
dissertation by writing historical novels and detective
stories, might also be an incentive to future generations
of students.
Altogether, one can only wish that further ventures
will set sail in the near future! Alexandra V. Rothe
Merry, Sally Engle, and Donald Brenneis (eds.):
Law and Empire in the Pacific. Fiji and Hawai’i. Santa
Fe: School of American Research Press; Oxford; James
Currey 2003. 313 pp. ISBN 1-930618-25-5; ISBN 0-
85255-944-5. Price: £ 16.95
This collection of essays is a product of a seminar
held at the School of American Research focusing on the
role of law in shaping institutions and practices during
the colonial past and the postcolonial present in Fiji and
Hawai’i. There are sound reasons for this comparative
project. Both island groups went through a process of
political consolidation in the nineteenth century, and in
both cases Europeans were implicated in this process.
After an initial period of guarded tolerance, powerful
chiefs in both island groups embraced Christianity.
Both island groups experienced a period of independent
constitutional monarchy, albeit more successfully in
Hawai’i’s case. But in both island groups the demands
of European settlers ultimately resulted in the loss of
sovereignty.
In short, there is ample material for comparison here
and justification for a volume devoted to it. The articles
in this collection are well-written and each of them
is an addition to scholarship on the Pacific. This is
certainly true of Collier’s (35-60) comparison of the
cultural logic of chiefdoms and the capitalist system
that replaces them. The title of her article comes from
a Luganda proverb, and the generalizations she makes
are said to be based on reading on chiefdoms in Africa,
Southeast Asia, the Americas, and the Pacific. Certainly,
her generalizations will ring true for anyone familiar
with the chiefdoms of Western Polynesia.
In her article (101-121), Silva discusses the legal
suppression of the hula, its cultural importance, and the
publication, in Hawaiian, of hula mo’olelo (narratives)
as a means of keeping this important form of knowledge
alive and “talking back to empire.”
John Kelly (61-100) focuses on the role of Fiji’s first
governor, Sir Arthur Gordon, in creating the legal struc-
ture of the colony. Gordon sought large-scale investment
for the colony in order to establish a secure tax base. The
sugar industry was the solution, but sugar was a very
labor-intensive crop. Reflecting his prior experience in
Trinidad and Mauritius, Gordon turned to British India
for the necessary labor. Fijians and Indians were treated
differently from the very beginning. The legal system
regulating life in Fijian villages was to be based, as far
as possible, on custom (as understood by Gordon and
administrators). In contrast, Indian workers were simply
units of labor whose lives were regulated by contract
and English common law. There was no attempt to make
the law reflect Indian values or customs and no separate
administrative system for Indian residents of the Colony.
Kelly argues that Gordon was influenced in this regard,
not by Sir Henry Maine’s evolutionary views of law,
but by the practical prescriptions of J. W. B. Money.
The one problem with this book is that it is not
more thoroughly comparative. Merry’s (123-152) ar-
ticle pursues comparison most directly, but there are
two ways that the book as a whole might have been
strengthened. One would have been to pair scholars with
similar interests in the two island groups so that each
article would be accompanied by a counterpart. The
other strategy would have been for individual authors
to look at their specific topic comparatively. In Kel-
ly’s case. Money’s emphasis on recognition of racial
differences as key to effective colonial administration
could have been more central to the paper (it does not
appear until page 24 of the article). This could have led
into a discussion of differential treatment of the various
ethnic groups on Hawaiian plantations, the specific ideas
behind these policies, and the impact on the lives of
plantation workers.
Similar opportunities are overlooked with other ar-
ticles. Kaplan (153-186) discusses an interesting case
in which a particular cluster of Fijian descent groups»
despite being dispossessed by Native Lands Commission
decisions, continue to maintain their fundamental con-
nection to the land in question. They state their claim8
in the language of Christianity; the Christian God gave
them that land. During the crisis following the coup
of 2000, these people took possession of a bottling
plant that marketed water from a spring that they claim-
Among their demands was one that the Prime Minister»
President of the Republic, or Minister of Lands me£t
with them and discuss their grievances. This would have
placed the matter within a Fijian framework for dispute
settlement, governed by Fijian protocol rather than the
arcanum of bureaucratic or Western legal procedures-
Kaplan (176) finds these people’s tenacious sense 0
ownership and entitlement to be remarkable. In fad»
though, it is resignation to the fact of dispossession ma
would be remarkable in the Fijian context. (See Sir Vija^
Singh’s comments about Fijian attitudes to land quote
by Lai on p. 272 of the same volume.)
Kaplan’s discussion of this Fijian case would see
to have been a logical point for a discussion of ™
Anthropos 10 i
.2 Où6
Rezensionen
311
tive Hawaiian’s attitudes towards land division, reg-
istration, and dispossession at the time of the Great
Mahele (“Division”) and today. There are references to
this scattered throughout the book, but because of the
cultural importance of land to Native Hawaiians, this
topic deserves more extended treatment. Riles’s (187—
212) discussion of the importance of land titles and title
transfers among Part-Europeans in Fiji also could have
led into such a discussion. Riles distinguishes between
two aspects of law; expressive law defines meaning and,
in particular, creates classes of persons. Instrumental
law is designed to bring about particular ends. Laws
or ordinances establishing the bureaucratic procedures
for land registration fall into this second category. In
his article (239-259), Miyazaki shows how one Fijian
community has mastered the evolving evidentiary forms
and procedures of the formal land tenure system in an
effort to have their land claims reopened. While Fijians
and Part-Europeans both adapted to the procedures of
formal registration, most Native Hawaiians avoided the
Process at the time of the Great Mahele, and a discussion
°f this difference would have been a valuable addition
to the book.
Johnathan Osorio (213-237) discusses the differ-
ences in goals, strategies, and ideas about Hawaiian
^entity that exist between two organizations seeking
a return of Hawaiian sovereignty, Ka Lahui Hawaii
and the Council of Regency. In these differing visions
°f what a sovereign Hawaiian nation would be, there
are parallels to the ethnonationalism that motivated the
c°ups in Fiji and the competing vision of a fully multi-
ethnic nation in which there are no second class citizens.
Each of the articles in this book opens possibilities
f0r comparison that are largely unexplored. The reality
18 that the participants for such seminars are chosen for
what their research interests are, not what reviewers
^ght wish them to be. As it is, the volume is an
•mportant contribution to scholarly understanding of the
P°stcolonial Pacific. And as the article by Lai (261 —
°0) makes poignantly clear, these are not issues of
mere scholarly concern; they go to the very heart of
a People. James Turner
Michels, Stefanie: Imagined Power Contested. Ger-
ans and Africans in the Upper Cross River Area
Cämeroon, 1887-1915. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004.
J°PP- ISBN 3-8258-6850-8. Preis: €35,90
Drei mit dünnen Stäben geschmückte Schädel sind
Cn dem ansonsten in schlichtem türkisblau gehaltenen
cj^Ver des Buches zu sehen. Sie wurden Stefanie Mi-
£ s im so genannten Palast des Dorfes Takwai als die
ren ac^e' deutscher Offiziere präsentiert. Vermutlich wa-
t an den Stäben einmal Federn angebracht, wie ich sie
der 6 der ^80er und 1990er Jahre selbst auf vielen an-
Se.ren rituellen Gegenständen und Aufsatzskulpturen ge-
Sc, e.n habe. Die drei Schädel, zusammen mit der Über-
üe nit ^ma§ined Power Contested”, illustrieren das An-
al}fen ^er Autorin, zu zeigen, dass die deutsche Koloni-
6rrschaft eigentlich nie wirkliche Macht in Kamerun
Vh:
r°pos 101.2006
inne hatte, sondern sich Stärke durch Überlegenheitsdis-
kurse und direkte Gewalt gegenüber der Bevölkerung
immer wieder auf brutale Weise zu beweisen suchte.
Zumindest am Anfang errang diese Bevölkerung noch
ihre eigenen Erfolge im Widerstand gegen die Inbesitz-
nahme ihres Landes durch die Kolonisatoren (372-376).
Die Erinnerung daran ist heute noch lebendig.
Mit dieser Aussage lässt sich die Arbeit in die statt-
liche Reihe von Arbeiten zur Kolonialkritik Kameruns
einordnen. Von ihren Vorgängern unterscheidet sich die
Arbeit von Stefanie Michels jedoch durch klare Vortei-
le. In akribischer Kleinarbeit bearbeitete sie gründlich
und in kurzer Zeit sämtliche auffindbaren deutschen
Kolonialakten zum oberen Cross River-Gebiet in den
diversen Archiven (Yaounde, Buea, Berlin) und Missio-
nen (Basel, Limburg). Es gelang ihr, aus den schriftli-
chen Quellen eine mal mehr mal weniger ausgeprägte
Denkweise und Psychologie deutscher Kolonialbeamter
herauszuarbeiten. Zudem befragte sie während eines
zehnmonatigen Forschungsaufenthaltes die Bewohner
des oberen Cross River-Gebiets nach ihrem Wissen und
ihren Erinnerungen aus dieser Zeit. Mit vorliegender
Arbeit entstand erstmals ein sehr differenziertes Bild der
Ereignisse der deutschen Kolonialzeit zwischen 1887-
1915 im oberen Cross River-Gebiet. Für ihre auf Eng-
lisch verfasste Doktorarbeit, auf der das Buch basiert,
bekam sie denn auch den Studienpreis 2004 für über-
durchschnittliche Dissertationen.
Die Arbeit umfasst zehn, meist in sich vielfach un-
tergliederte Kapitel, denen ein Vorwort, Verzeichnisse
von Karten, Abbildungen, Abkürzungen und eine Art
Glossar deutscher kolonialer Termini vorangestellt so-
wie Anhänge zu den Quellen und einige zeitgenössische
Fotografien nachgestellt sind. Im ersten Kapitel, der
Einleitung, geht es um die Problematisierung “histori-
scher Wahrheit”, um Begriffe und Klassifikationen, die
Grenzen der Untersuchungseinheit “Upper Cross River
area” sowie um ethnische und sprachliche Einheiten.
Des Weiteren stellt die Autorin in klarer Weise ihre
Quellen vor und endet mit einem kurzen Überblick über
die im Cross River-Gebiet lebende Bevölkerung und
die bisher verfassten Arbeiten über dieses immer noch
wenig untersuchte Gebiet.
Kapitel 2, “Economic and Social Networks”, befasst
sich mit der Geschichte des Cross River-Gebiets und
gibt einen Überblick über Wirtschaftsweise, Handels-
beziehungen, politische Autoritäten und Veränderungen
während der Kolonialzeit, soweit dies aus den vorhande-
nen Quellen und der heutigen Sicht nachvollziehbar war.
Hübsche Excel-Grafiken geben statistische Überblicke
(z. B. S. 33) über das Alter der von der Autorin befragten
Personen (wobei Altersangaben in oralen Gesellschaften
immer vage bleiben müssen) oder S. 50 über die quanti-
tative Verteilung von Sprechern verschiedener Sprachen
zu unterschiedlichen Zeiten im Cross River-Gebiet.
Kapitel 3, “Making the Road to Bali - Upper
Banyang 1888-1893”, beschreibt die ersten kolonia-
len Begegnungen im oberen Cross River-Gebiet. Die
Autorin spannt einen weiten Bogen vom Beginn des
deutschen kolonialen Unterfangens, um ihre Leser so-
312
Rezensionen
dann zu den Reisen Eugen Zintgraffs zu führen, der mit
seinen ehrgeizigen Bestrebungen, in bisher unbekanntes
Land vorzustoßen, den Prototyp kolonialer Ideologie
zu verkörpern scheint. Er wollte die Küste und das
niedrig gelegene Waldgebiet mit dem hochgelegenen
Kameruner Grasland verbinden und für Deutschland
neue Handelswege eröffnen. Die Autorin analysiert die
ersten Begegnungen Zintgraffs mit den lokalen politi-
schen Autoritäten im Banyang-Land. Diese Begegnun-
gen ergänzt sie durch aufschlussreiche Erinnerungen der
Nachkommen dieser Autoritäten, die Zintgraff damals
auf seinen Reisen (1888-1891) angetroffen hatte - man
hätte davon gerne noch mehr gelesen. Ihre Analyse
führt Stefanie Michels zu dem Schluss, Zintgraffs bedin-
gungsloser Wille zur Durchsetzung seiner patriotischen
Absichten, ließen ihn diese ersten Begegnungen nega-
tiv bewerten, sobald die Bevölkerung seinem Freund-
schaftsangebot, das eigentlich bereits ein Befehl war,
nicht Folge leistete. Im Gegensatz hierzu steht Zintgraffs
Begegnung mit Garega, dem politischen Oberhaupt von
Bali, mit dem er ohne Umschweife Blutsbrüderschaft
schloss.
Kapitel 4, “‘New Order’ (1895-1903)”, beschreibt
die Zeit, in der die Bevölkerung im Cross River-Ge-
biet bei ihren Versuchen, die Stärke der deutschen
Kolonialmacht herauszufordern, zunehmend mehr Op-
fer verzeichnen musste. Der in der deutschen Koloni-
alliteratur sogenannte Ekoi-Aufstand begann mit dem
Tod Leutnant von Queis und Conraus 1899. Hierauf
folgte Leutnant von Bessers grausame Strafexpedition,
die sogar das Berliner Tageblatt 1900 als “Muthwillige
Zerstörungen, grausame Mißhandlungen und grundlose
Tödtungen” charakterisierte (169). Kapitel 5, “Making
Colonial Boundaries”, thematisiert die Festlegung der
nationalen Grenze zwischen dem englischen Nigeria und
dem deutschen Kamerun sowie die Debatten und das
koloniale Gerangel nicht nur um einzelne Orte, sondern
ganze Gegenden und “Stämme”.
Kapitel 6, “GNK - Concession, Claims, and Chaos”,
und Kapitel 7, “Military into Civil Administration -
‘dem Schwert muss der Pflug folgen’”, stellen das ei-
gentlichen Kernstück der Arbeit dar. Hier werden die
Errichtung der Regierungsstation “Ossidinge”, die Ver-
gabe der Konzession an die Gesellschaft Nordkamerun
(GNK), die “chaotische Handelspolitik” und die Strei-
tigkeiten der GNK mit der Kolonialregierung um die
Frage des Eigentums am Konzessionsland und der darin
durch Bevölkerung erwirtschafteten Produkte beschrie-
ben. Hinzu kamen chaotische Zustände auf der Regie-
rungsstation. Beides führte 1904 zur Tötung weiterer
Deutscher und zu den Mpawmanku-Kriegen, die in der
kolonialen Literatur als Anyang-Aufstand verharmlost
werden, so die Autorin. Die Folge waren Bestrafungs-
maßnahmen seitens der Kolonialregierung, jedoch wur-
den auch ausreichend Schuldzuweisungen gegenüber der
GNK gesammelt, so dass ihr 1910 die Konzession ent-
zogen wurde. Kapitel 8, “New ‘Eingeborenenpolitik’
- ‘Gebranntes Kind scheut das Feuer’ (1904-1914)”,
behandelt die Zeit nach den Mpawmanku-Kriegen, die
Herstellung der Ordnung durch den neuen Stationsleiter
Alfred Mansfeld, Fragen der Besteuerung, der Zusam-
menlegung von Dörfern zur leichteren Administration
und von Schadenszahlungen seitens der Bevölkerung.
Kapitel 9, “Germany Must Go (1914-1939)”, themati-
siert den Verlust der Kolonie durch den ersten Weltkrieg
und bietet einen provisorischen Ausblick. Kapitel 10,
“Conclusion - ‘Blood Has Fertilised the Soil’ ”, fasst die
aus der Menge des dargestellten Materials zu ziehenden
Erkenntnisse zusammen.
Drei inhaltliche Blöcke erhalten in der kurzen deut-
schen Kolonialgeschichte im Cross River-Gebiet Ka-
meruns hier größtes Gewicht: 1. die erste Begegnung
der Deutschen mit der Bevölkerung im Cross River-Ge-
biet, die das Folgende programmatisch vorzubestimmen
schien. 2. Der Ekoi-Krieg und darauffolgende Strafexpe-
ditionen. 3. Die Vergabe der Konzession an die Gesell-
schaft Nordkamerun und die Mpawmanku-Kriege. Ste-
fanie Michels identifiziert anhand zahlreicher Beispiele
koloniale Diskurse, die ihre These untermauern, dass
diese Diskurse Maßnahmen der Rechtfertigung für die
koloniale Unterwerfung und Bestrafung darstellten so-
wie der Vorspiegelung eigener imaginierter Mächtigkeit.
So legt die Autorin explizit Wert darauf, dass es sich
nicht um Aufstände handle, sondern um Kriege, um Wi-
derstand gegen die koloniale Unterwerfung, vor denen
es noch gar keinen Zustand der Unterwerfung gegeben
habe. In ähnlicher Weise werde das Argument des Auf-
brechens der Handelsmonopole der lokalen Bevölkerung
als Rechtfertigung zur Unterwerfung verwendet.
Sicherlich wird es in einer so detailreichen Arbeit
immer Kleinigkeiten geben, die man so oder so sehen
oder interpretieren kann, gerade auch da es viele wi-
dersprüchliche Quellen gibt und mehrfach verschiedene
Schreibweisen und Versionen, die, wie die Autorin zu
Recht aufzeigt, mit bestimmten Interessen beladen sind-
Anregend wäre weiterhin, die Ereignisse noch stärker als
Interessenkonflikte verschiedener Parteien zu sehen und
noch mehr Einblicke in die Perspektive der Bevölkerung
zu geben. Insgesamt stellt Stefanie Michels gut lesbare
Arbeit nicht nur die erste detaillierte Untersuchung zur
deutschen Kolonialgeschichte des Cross River-Gebiß'
tes dar, sondern es ist ihr auch in überzeugender und
differenzierter Weise gelungen, die kolonialhistorischen
Daten mit eigener Forschung vor Ort und der Befragung
von Zeitzeugen aus der betroffenen Bevölkerung zu
verknüpfen. Im Erscheinungsjahr 2004 der Arbeit liege11
nun 100 Jahre seit den Mpawmanku Kriegen zurück "
höchste Zeit für die Einbeziehung von Zeitzeugen!
Ute Röschenthale1
Murray, Colin, and Peter Sanders: Medicine Mu1'
der in Colonial Lesotho. The Anatomy of a MoU
Crisis. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007'
493 pp. ISBN 0-7486-2284-5. (International African U'
brary, 31) Price: £50.00
Wie kaum ein anderes Thema erhitzen so genannt®
“Medizinmorde” seit der Kolonialzeit ethnologische uu
öffentliche Debatten im südlichen Afrika. Mit ihrer v°
luminösen Studie, die ganz von den Quellen her arbeit®1'
Anthropos 101-2^
Rezensionen
313
bieten Colin Murray und Peter Sanders einen neuen In-
terpretationsansatz. Murray forscht seit vielen Jahren als
Sozialanthropologe über Strukturen und Veränderungen
der Basotho-Gesellschaft und Sanders war in den 1960er
Jahren Kolonialbeamter in Lesotho. Seine Bücher über
Moshoeshoe und die Basotho-Preisgesänge zählen zu
den Klassikern über das Königreich in den Drakensber-
gen. Auch wenn die zwei Autoren sich aus ganz unter-
schiedlichen Perspektiven dem Thema annähern, versu-
chen sie dennoch die Hintergründe für die Morde aus der
Handlungsrationalität der Basotho heraus zu verstehen
und den Anstieg der gerichtlich verfolgten Morde Ende
der 1940er Jahre im Spiegel kolonialpolitischer Eingriffe
und daraus resultierender Umbrüche zu betrachten. Dazu
'Veiten sie umfangreiches Aktenmaterial von über 130
Mordfällen im Nationalarchiv Lesothos sowie im Public
Record Office in London aus und führen Interviews
mit Zeitzeugen durch. So entwirren sie ein schillerndes
Hickicht von Indizien, Verdächtigungen, Behauptungen
und rassistischen Projektionen. Nach mehreren Jahren
Forschung setzen sie ein neues, komplexes Puzzle zur
Geschichte der Basotho Mitte des 20. Jhs. zusammen.
Mit feinen Linien zeichnen sie nach, welche religiösen
und politischen Konfliktebenen den Morden zugrunde
Ggen, also warum Chiefs morden ließen und dadurch
'hre ins Wanken geratene Herrschaft wieder stabilisieren
Sollten.
Das Buch gliedert sich in zwei Teile mit insgesamt
neun Kapiteln; zudem illustrieren ein umfangreicher
Quellenteil sowie detaillierte Landkarten, Abbildungen
und Fotos die Aussagen der Autoren. Während der ers-
te Teil in die historischen Kontexte einführt und vier
Mordfälle nachzeichnet, widmet sich der zweite Teil den
Motiven der Mörder, ihren Komplizen, den Ermittlern
ünd den juristischen Verfahren. In einem Ausblick wird
ie Aufarbeitung der Morde innerhalb der Basotho-Ge-
SeUschaft beleuchtet; zudem werden sogenannte Medi-
jUnrnorde in Südafrika hinsichtlich ihrer Vergleichbar-
eU geprüft. Abschließend weisen die Autoren darauf
ln, dass sie nichts von großen Würfen halten, die pau-
Schal Hexerei und Medizinmorde aus ihren spezifi-
Schen kulturellen Bedeutungszusammenhängen und his-
Oschen Kontexten herausreißen und weitreichende
I lüsse ziehen, mögen diese sprachlich auch noch so
°9uent formuliert sein. Mit diesem diskreten Seiten-
eb an die Adresse namhafter US-amerikanischer Fach-
en - in der subtilen Form des englischen Under-
ements angedeutet - betonen sie einmal mehr, wie
s- cubg historisch und ethnographisch fundierte Studien
b, die dann Wesentlichen aus sich selbst heraus
^•chen.
p Gerade weil das Buch auf ausufernde theoretische
^r§üsse verzichtet und am Material selbst arbeitet, liest
q Slch wie ein Krimi, der eine Zeitreise in die politische
Richte Lesothos erlaubt. So können die Mordfälle
Mp6 C*er 1940er Jahre nur im Kontext fortdauernder
der, ScFaftlicher Strukturveränderungen verstanden wer-
§inn ^^rend Lesotbo im ausgehenden 19. und be-
cj^den 20. Jh. durch umfangreiche Überschusspro-
l0n als Kornkammer im südlichen Afrika galt, was
Vh
eine beachtliche Prosperität und stetiges Bevölkerungs-
wachstum zur Folge hatte, brach diese Entwicklung zu-
sammen, als ein Großteil der fruchtbaren Landesflächen
vom Oranje Freistaat beansprucht wurde. Die männliche
Bevölkerung wurde über Generationen zu schlecht be-
zahlter Wanderarbeit in die Minen Südafrikas gezwun-
gen. Dennoch reichte der mühsam verdiente Lohn kaum
für die von der Kolonialverwaltung erhobene Steuerlast.
So erhielt die von den Briten konstruierte historische
Dichotomie der Idylle Basotholand auf der einen Seite
- ein Gegenentwurf zum problembeladenem, von Ge-
walt gekennzeichneten Zululand auf der anderen Seite
- immer mehr Risse.
Die Machtbasis der lokalen Autoritäten geriet aber
nicht nur durch die massive Abwanderung der Männer
ins Wanken, auch die wiederholten Reformprogramme
zur Einbindung der Chiefs in den kolonialen Verwal-
tungsapparat seit Ende der 1930er Jahre führten zu fort-
dauernden Irritationen über die Legitimität ihrer Herr-
schaft. So hatte die bruchstückhaft umgesetzte Reform
der “indirect rule”, z. B. die zahlenmäßige Reduzierung
der traditionellen Autoritäten und ihrer Gerichte, eine
grundlegende Verunsicherung zur Folge. Während in
Südafrika die Apartheid eingeführt wurde, sollte im
heutigen Lesotho die gesamte Chief-Struktur umgewid-
met und weisungsbefugten Kolonialoffizieren unterstellt
werden. Aus einem ererbten Amt wurde ab Mitte der
1940er Jahre ein bezahlter Posten, so dass die Verant-
wortung der Chiefs gegenüber der lokalen Gesellschaft
drastisch beschränkt wurde.
Eindrücklich legen Murray und Sanders dar, wie ein-
zelne Chiefs versuchten, ihre Herrschaftsansprüche neu
zu legitimieren, indem sie sich durch “Medizinmorde”
übernatürliche Kräfte verschafften. Aus der Perspektive
vieler Zeitzeugen entsprach es durchaus vorkolonialen
Strategien, politische Macht in Krisenzeiten zu bewei-
sen - dies wird in Interviews ebenso deutlich wie in
literarischen Texten. Währenddessen bestritten nationa-
listische Bewegungen schon in den 1950er Jahren die
Existenz der Morde und sprachen von einer kolonialen
Verschwörung, die die Basotho diffamieren wollte.
Während der 1950er und 1960er Jahre sank die Zahl
der Morde, im Gefolge der Unabhängigkeit verloren sie
ihre politische Brisanz. Auch wenn die Medien ab den
1970er Jahren von vereinzelten Mordfällen berichteten,
wurden diese von noch gravierenderen Problemen wie
der fortschreitenden Verarmung durch Bodenerosion und
Arbeitslosigkeit überdeckt - heute bedeutet HIV/AIDS
eine zusätzliche Bürde. Mit diesem Ausblick verdeut-
lichen die Autoren abermals, wie sehr “okkulte Prakti-
ken” historisch zu kontextualisieren sind. Während sie
die Akten ihrer Ermittlungen zuklappen, wird ihr Buch
sicherlich Kontroversen auslösen - sowohl über ihre Be-
funde, als auch hinsichtlich der Zusammenarbeit eines
renommierten Ethnologen mit einem früheren Kolonial-
beamten. Rita Schäfer
Ntukula, Mary, and Rita Liljeström (eds ): Um-
leavyo - The Dilemma of Parenting. Uppsala: Nordic
lr°pos 101.2006
314
Rezensionen
Africa Institute, 2004. 152 pp. ISBN 91-7106-522-9.
Price: € 18,00
Der Titel des Buches nimmt auf ein Kiswahili-
Sprichwort Bezug, das wie in einem Brennglas die zen-
trale Thematik dieses Sammelbandes fokussiert: “So wie
du ein Kind erziehst, so wird es erwachsen.” Damit wird
die große Bedeutung der familiären Sozialisation für die
Persönlichkeitsentwicklung betont. Doch viele Eltern
fühlen sich angesichts der rapiden sozialen Umbrüche
überfordert, ihre Kinder auf die Herausforderungen der
Erwachsenenwelt vorzubereiten - eine nicht nur für die
tansanische Gesellschaft zutreffende Beobachtung.
Die hier versammelten Beiträge beleuchten verschie-
dene Facetten des komplexen Strukturwandels und set-
zen den Akzent auf die Transformationen der Ge-
schlechter- und Generationenbeziehungen in einzelnen
Landesteilen Tansanias. Das Buch bildet den Abschluss
einer ganzen Reihe, die sich mit dem reproduktiven
Verhalten von Jugendlichen befasst.
Seit 1989 erforschten tansanische Sozialwissenschaft-
lerinnen in enger Zusammenarbeit mit skandinavischen
Sozialanthropologinnen und Soziologinnen die Verände-
rungen des Ehe- und Familienlebens sowie brüchig ge-
wordene Normen in städtischen und ländlichen Regio-
nen des ostafrikanischen Landes. Ihr Blick richtete sich
auf die Erosion traditioneller Strukturen, die Sexualität,
Ehe und Elternschaft regelten, wobei Einschätzungen
von Erwachsenen und Jugendlichen gegenübergestellt
wurden.
Dieser Ansatz, die verschiedenen Meinungen junger
und älterer Männer sowie von Frauen und Mädchen zu
dokumentieren, bildet auch die Grundlage der vorlie-
genden Publikation. Hier präsentieren sechs Autorinnen,
fünf tansanische Soziologinnen und Gender-Expertinnen
- allesamt Mitglieder der Women’s Studies Group an der
Universität von Dar es Salaam - sowie eine schwedische
Soziologin, ihre Forschungsergebnisse.
Virginia Bamurange zeigt auf, wie die Kluft im
Generationenverhältnis dazu beiträgt, dass die Zahl der
Teenager-Schwangerschaften steigt, ohne dass die jun-
gen Väter sich für ihre Partnerinnen und deren Kin-
der verantwortlich fühlen. Die Autorin kritisiert ältere
Männer, die es sich selbst leicht machen, indem sie ihren
heranwachsenden Söhnen zumuten, sie sollten durch ei-
gene Fehler lernen und auf diese Weise offene Kritik und
Konflikte vermeiden. Solche ausweichenden Antworten
seien angesichts der grassierenden HIV/AIDS-Epidemie
unverantwortlich. Gleichzeitig ergreift Bamurange Par-
tei für junge Mädchen, denn auch sie würden von ihren
Müttern unzureichend aufgeklärt, wobei sich die Mütter
jedoch in einer besonders zwiespältigen Situation befin-
den: Einerseits werden sie für die Schwangerschaften
ihrer Töchter verantwortlich gemacht, denn ihnen wird
vorgeworfen, die Mädchen nicht richtig erzogen zu ha-
ben. Andererseits sind die Mütter selbst in einer unterge-
ordneten Stellung; so spiegeln die Vorwürfe gegenüber
ihnen und ihren Töchtern die Geschlechterhierarchien.
Auch Juliana C. Mziray fordert die Eltemgeneration
auf, mehr Verantwortung für die Erziehung der Jugendli-
chen zu übernehmen und neue Dialogformen zu finden,
um diese über sexuelle Fragen aufzuklären und ihnen
Orientierungen im Leben zu bieten. Mziray hat eine
islamisch und eine christlich geprägte Pare-Siedlung im
Norden des Landes verglichen und festgestellt, dass die
zu Beginn des 20. Jhs. einsetzende Missionierung in
beiden Orten Normenkonflikte zur Folge hatte, die zur
Aufgabe traditioneller Initiationsriten führten, ohne dass
neue Institutionen wie die Schulen derartige Funktionen
übernahmen. Dennoch machen viele ältere Menschen
heute die Jugendlichen selbst für die aktuellen Proble-
me verantwortlich, wobei sie auch einen umfassenden
Respektverlust beklagen. Schließlich ging es im Rah-
men traditioneller Initiationsriten darum, Gehorsam ge-
genüber Autoritäten einzuüben und herrschende Macht-
strukturen anzuerkennen.
Genau diese Zielsetzung hat, wenn man die Situati-
on der Mädchen betrachtet, eine fatale Verzerrung an-
genommen, wie Mary Ntukula am Beispiel der Yao-
Gesellschaft feststellt. Denn widersprüchliche Normen
verlangen von den Mädchen einerseits fraglose Unter-
ordnung unter die Entscheidungsbefugnis von Männern
und bezichtigen sie andererseits der Unmoral, wenn sie
schwanger werden. Während die Tanten der Mädchen,
konkret die Schwestern der Väter, in vorkolonialer Zeit
für die Aufklärung zuständig waren, haben sie diese
Funktion eingebüßt. Bis heute gibt es keine Alternativen,
die die Kluft zwischen gesellschaftlichen Erwartungen
nach jungfräulichen Eheschließungen und der geringen
Verhandlungsmacht der Mädchen schließen könnten.
Auch Rosalia Sam Katapa untersucht widersprüchli-
che Geschlechterkonzepte, wobei sie die unterschiedli-
che Beurteilung der Feldarbeit von Mädchen und Jun-
gen, aber auch die Möglichkeiten und Grenzen der
Schulbildung in der Nyakyusa-Gesellschaft betrachtet-
Dort gilt es inzwischen als Zeichen weiblicher Stärke,
wenn Mädchen und Frauen immer mehr landwirtschaft-
liche Arbeitsaufgaben von Männern übernehmen, zumal
immer weniger Jungen und Männer heute ihren tra-
ditionellen Arbeitspflichten nachkommen. Schulbildung
fördere die Verbesserung der Lebensverhältnisse, ande-
rerseits wird ihr angelastet, dass sie zum Traditionsver-
lust der Jugendlichen beitrage. Die Autorin stellt abe>
nicht nur solche gesellschaftlichen Kontroversen voi-
sondern befragt auch junge Männer und junge Frauen
nach ihren eigenen Einschätzungen. Dabei kristallisieft
sich heraus, dass Jungen in Gesprächen mit gleichalt-
rigen Geschlechtsgenossen Mädchen nach ihrem An*'
sehen abschätzen und deren Verhalten als moralisc11
oder unmoralisch kategorisieren. Ihr eigenes Verhaften
reflektieren sie dagegen nicht. Mädchen unterhalten si^
häufiger über ihre schwierige Situation, von Jungen
Männern abhängig zu sein, weil ihre Bildungs- Ul1
Beschäftigungsmöglichkeiten gering sind.
Zubeida Tumbo-Masabo widmet sich den Einste
lungen unterschiedlicher Altersgruppen zu HIV/AI”.j
In einem als Vergnügungsviertel bekannten Stadtte
Dar es Salaams interviewte sie Jugendliche, aber au
Frauen und Männer unterschiedlichen Alters. Währen
junge Männer die Krankheit als “Betriebsunfall a s
tun und auch ältere Männer kaum Handlungsbe
daff
Anthropos 101
_2(#
Rezensionen
315
sehen, fühlen sich vor allem junge Mädchen, Witwen
und geschiedene Frauen mit mehreren Kleinkindern
von HIV/AIDS bedroht. Dies spiegelt das strukturelle
Problem wider, dass sich marginalisierte Frauen ge-
zwungen sehen, ihre wirtschaftliche Existenz durch se-
xuelle Kontakte zu sichern. Allerdings beklagen auch
verheiratete Frauen wegen ihrer untergeordneten Ver-
handlungsposition die begrenzten Möglichkeiten, von
ihren Ehemännern die Benutzung von Kondomen zu
fordern. Tumbo-Masabo belässt es aber nicht dabei, die
Doppelmoral in der urbanen Gesellschaft anzuprangern,
vielmehr sucht sie nach Ansatzpunkten, neue Dialog-
foren zu schaffen. Dazu zählt sie den Rückgriff auf
traditionelle Begrifflichkeiten aus dem Initiationskon-
text ebenso wie Diskussionen darüber, welche Aufgaben
Eltern und Schulen in der Erziehung zukommen. Sowohl
wn Generationen- als auch im Geschlechterverhältnis sei
es wichtig, neue Vertrauensgrundlagen zu schaffen.
Rita Liljeström unterstreicht in ihrer Zusammenfas-
sung diese Herausforderung, die sie in konzeptionelle
Überlegungen zur sozialen Interaktion einbaut. Sie hofft,
dass die multiethnische tansanische Gesellschaft die
Stigmatisierung schwangerer Mädchen überwindet und
v°n Männern mehr väterliche Verantwortung einfordert.
Ausgangspunkt dafür ist ihrer Meinung nach die Tatsa-
che, dass Geschlechterverhältnisse ausgehandelt werden.
Dies eröffne eine Chance, neue Wege zwischen Tradi-
ll°n und Moderne zu finden und den widersprüchlichen
Realitäten im Kontext der rapiden sozialen Veränderun-
gen zu begegnen.
Insgesamt bietet das Buch facettenreiche Einbli-
cke in aktuelle wissenschaftliche Auseinandersetzungen
zentralen Problemen der tansanischen Gesellschaft.
¿War mögen einige hiesige Ethnologen der Anwen-
dungsorientierung dieser Untersuchungen mit Zurück-
haltung begegnen, aus der Perspektive der tansanischen
°rscherinnen ist sie jedoch verständlich. Wünschens-
^ert wäre indes, dass sich mehr Männer an den Gen-
er'Forschungen beteiligen. Rita Schäfer
£ Pellow, Deborah: Landlords and Lodgers. Socio-
Patial Organization in an Accra Community. Westport:
ü'aeger Publishers, 2002. 262 pp. ISBN 0-275-97600-9.
Ece: $ 89.95
Auf den ersten Blick könnte man Fellows Studie le-
^§lich für einen weiteren Beitrag zur Hausa-Diaspora in
estafrika halten. Seit Abner Cohens Untersuchung ei-
s Hausa-Viertels in Ibadan von 1969 wurde eine Reihe
^ n Studien über die Migration aus den hausasprachigen
^ponen Nordnigerias und Südnigers in westafrikani-
^ e Städte oder ländliche Gunsträume durchgeführt.
üabei stand vor allem die Frage im Vordergrund, wie
Unter welchen Umständen eine Hausa-Identität er-
terf erfunden oder verteidigt wird. Auch für Pellow
r das Phänomen der kulturellen Kontinuität eines
üittle
§o
Verweile 100 Jahre alten Hausa-Viertels, Sabon Zon-
’'u Accra Ausgangspunkt ihrer Forschung.
q eIl°ws Arbeit geht aber über die Rekonstruktion der
cuichte einer muslimischen Hausa-Gemeinschaft in
üthr,
°Pos 101.2006
einem überwiegend christlich-westlichen, urbanen Kon-
text hinaus. Sie kritisiert an den bisherigen Studien
über Hausa-Gemeinschaften außerhalb des Hausa-Lan-
des, dass sie die jeweilige Lokalität nur als Hintergrund
behandelten. Pellow erweitert daher die Perspektive um
eine räumliche Dimension im Sinne der “theory of sec-
ondary agency”: “considering place as an active partic-
ipant in social life, exploring the relation between built
form and culture in seeking out spatial meanings”. Ihre
zentrale These ist, dass sich eine Gemeinschaft nicht
nur durch bestimmte soziale Praktiken, insbesondere
Austausch, sondern auch durch raum-zeitliche Prakti-
ken konstituiert. Dieser sozialen Produktion des Raumes
geht Pellow unter anderem anhand detaillierter Unter-
suchungen über die Entwicklung von Gehöftformen in
Sabon Zongo nach.
Das Buch beruht auf einer Langzeitforschung in Ac-
cra seit 1982. Es ist in eine Einleitung und acht thema-
tisch geordnete Kapitel untergliedert. Das zweite Kapitel
nach der Einleitung zeichnet die Besiedlungsgeschichte
Accras bis zur Gegenwart nach. Wie andere afrikanische
Städte auch ist Accra (heute ca. drei Mio. Einwohner)
eine Hybridstadt, in der sich seit dem 15. Jh. histori-
sche Siedlungskerne, koloniale Gründungen und rasch
wachsende Migrantenviertel zu einer multikulturellen
und -lingualen Metropole verbunden haben.
Im dritten Kapitel wird die Entstehung von Sabon
Zongo rekonstruiert. Muslimische Migranten aus ver-
schiedenen Regionen Westafrikas lebten seit dem 19. Jh.
zunächst in einem Fremdenviertel im Stadtzentrum von
Accra. Wie andernorts waren die Hausa als Händler
bzw. Makler im Kolahandel tätig, aber auch als Soldaten
und Polizisten. Auf religiösem Gebiet waren die Hausa
führend und fungierten als Imame. 1910 zog ein Teil
der Hausa-Bevölkerung in ein neues Viertel außerhalb
des damaligen Stadtgebietes um. Dafür gab es mehrere
Gründe: Überbevölkerung des Fremden Viertels in der
Stadt, koloniale Pläne zur räumlichen Neuordnung der
Stadt infolge der Beulenpest von 1908 und Differenzen
mit anderen Gruppen, insbesondere Konflikte um die
Position des Anführers im Fremdenviertel. Das Haupt-
motiv des Begründers der neuen Siedlung, Malam Bako,
scheint aber die Konstruktion eines möglichst homo-
genen muslimischen bzw. Hausa-Viertels gewesen zu
sein. Malam Bako war sowohl religiöses wie weltliches
Oberhaupt, und infolge seines Einflusses verblieb der
Führungsanspruch in seiner Familie. Bis in die 1930er
Jahre war das Viertel überwiegend von Hausa bewohnt.
Das vierte Kapitel umreißt die physischen Merkma-
le von Sabon Zongo und beschreibt sowohl die erra-
tische Infrastruktur wie die lebhaften wirtschaftlichen
Aktivitäten in diesem aus Sicht vieler Bewohner “ver-
nachlässigten” Stadtteil. Obwohl die Grenzen zu be-
nachbarten Stadtteilen und zwischen verschiedenen Zo-
nen innerhalb des Viertels je nach Perspektive variieren,
besteht Einigkeit über das Zentrum von Sabon Zongo:
ein offener, multifunktioneller Platz für Markt, Feste,
Versammlungen, Fußball etc.
Grenzen zu anderen Stadtteilen sind nicht nur räum-
lich, sondern auch kulturell definiert. Auch wenn Sabon
316
Rezensionen
Zongo heute eine heterogene Bewohnerschaft hat, be-
sitzt der Stadtteil einen spezifischen Charakter. Hierzu
gehört vor allem die Orientierung an der Hausa-Kultur
und ein gewisses Gemeinschaftsgefühl. Wie Pellow her-
vorhebt, ist die Selbst- oder Fremdzuordnung “Hausa”
eine oft eher vage, inklusive und situative Kategorie. In
Sabon Zongo sind es vor allem der Bezug auf eine Her-
kunft aus den hausasprachigen Gebieten, Islam, Hausa
als Hauptverkehrssprache, ein bestimmter Kleidungsstil
und auch die Präferenz für die Hausa-Küche, die das
Hausa-Flair des Viertels ausmachen.
Unterhalb dieser äußerlich wahrnehmbaren Merkma-
le spielen verwandtschaftliche Bindungen eine wichti-
ge Rolle für die Kontinuität der Gemeinschaft. Pellow
dokumentiert in den Kapiteln 5 und 6 detailliert, wie
die vier “großen” Familien des Viertels durch Heirats-,
Austausch- und Patron-Klient-Beziehungen miteinander
verbunden sind. Viele Gehöfte gehören den Nachkom-
men der ersten Bewohner - daher der Buchtitel (Hausa-)
landlords gegenüber unterschiedlichen lodgers. Auch
Bewohner des Viertels, die weder Hausa, noch Muslime,
noch Hausbewohner sind, werden durch ihre Bezie-
hungen zu landlords und Nachbarn in Alltagsroutinen,
Festlichkeiten und andere Formen lokaler Gemeinschaft-
lichkeit eingebunden.
In den Kapitel 7 und 8 beschäftigt sich Pellow ein-
gehend (und stellenweise etwas zu detailliert) mit den
physischen und sozialen Komponenten von Gehöften
in Sabon Zongo. Dabei beobachtet sie, wie das Ide-
al eines urbanen Hausa-Gehöfts zunächst nachgeahmt,
dann aber aus verschiedenen Gründen modifiziert wird.
Das idealtypische Hausa-Gehöft ist von einer Mauer
umschlossen; männliche Nichtverwandte haben nur zur
Eingangshalle zaure Zugang; und der Aktionsraum von
Frauen ist auf den Innenbereich beschränkt. Obwohl
an einer (idealisierten) Hausa-Lebensweise festgehalten
wird, fällt ein für Nordnigeria ganz charakteristisches
Element weg: die Seklusion von verheirateten Frauen
ist in Gehöften, wo nicht nur Verwandte, sondern auch
nichtverwandte Mieter wohnen, undurchführbar. Pellow
zeigt anhand eines Vergleichs von 19 überwiegend ge-
mischt-ethnischen Gehöften in Sabon Zongo die große
Bandbreite möglicher Wohn- und Interaktionsformen:
die Modifikation von männlich und weiblich definierten
Räumen (einschließlich einer kompletten Umkehr der
Nutzung von Eingangshalle und Innenhof); der fließende
Übergang zwischen häuslichen und gewerblichen Akti-
vitäten; die mehr oder weniger physisch vorhandenen
Grenzen zu Nachbargehöften und zwischen Einzelhaus-
halten innerhalb des Gehöfts; und das Phänomen der
“öffentlichen Privatheit”. Wo sich Familie und Frem-
de beengten Wohnraum teilen und wenig verborgen
bleiben kann, entwickelt sich eine “shared morality of
user behavior”: Privatheit wird durch bestimmte Ver-
haltensweisen wie z. B. Vermeiden von Blickkontakt
hergestellt. Diese Modifikationen von Siedlungsweise
und Lebensstil sind Ausdruck der Transformationen, die
Sabon Zongo seit seiner Gründung durchlaufen hat.
Besonders eindrücklich geschildert und mit vielen
Grundrissen illustriert ist das Phänomen der “Involu-
tion” von Gehöften: da die Gehöfte aus Platzgründen
nicht expandieren können, “wachsen” sie gleichsam
nach innen zu, wobei gleichzeitig die Bewohnerschaft
heterogener wird. Diese Überfüllung trägt dazu bei, dass
das Viertel in anderen Teilen von Accra als besonders
ärmlich und schäbig gilt - gekoppelt mit Vorurteilen
gegenüber Muslimen und “Nordlern”. Dass die Bewoh-
ner von Sabon Zongo (auch christliche Ghanaer) sich
trotz dieses Rufs mit ihrem Stadtteil identifizieren und
zum Teil sogar dort wohnen bleiben, obwohl sie sich
etwas Besseres leisten können, führt Pellow auf mehrere
Faktoren zurück: Migranten aus Nordnigeria können
sich dort in einem vertrauten Milieu bewegen; die Mie-
ten sind vergleichsweise billig; das Zusammenleben ist
überwiegend friedlich; und es hat sich ein spezifisches
Gemeinschaftsgefühl herausgebildet, das auch von jenen
geteilt wird, die nicht zu den “angestammten” Bewoh-
nern gehören. Dieses trotz interner Differenzierungen
und Konflikte dominierende Gemeinschaftsgefühl nennt
Pellow zongwanci: “an overarching social identity”, die
über kulturelle und sprachliche Grenzen hinausreicht.
Pellows Buch über Sabon Zongo ist nicht nur eine
faszinierende Studie darüber, wie sich aus einem ur-
sprünglich kulturell homogenen Einwandererdorf ein
multikulturelles Stadtviertel entwickelt, das für seine
Bewohner zu einer Heimat wird. Es gestattet auch einen
Einblick in die typischen Probleme afrikanischer Städte
aus einer lokalen Perspektive und die individuellen Stra-
tegien, mit denen z. B. ein Neuankömmling überhaupt
Wohnraum finden kann oder wie die Einwohner konkret
mit dem Mangel an Raum, Wasser, Elektrizität usW-
umgehen. Darüber hinaus thematisiert es in gelungener
Weise die Wechselwirkungen zwischen der Konstruk-
tion von Wohnraum und den Transformationen kollek-
tiver Identität. Daher kann man es gleichermaßen als
einen Beitrag zur Hausa-Diaspora, zur Sozialgeschichte
Ghanas und zu einer Anthropologie des Raumes lesen-
Katja Werthmann
Peterson, Derek R.: Creative Writing. Translation-
Bookkeeping, and the Work of Imagination in ColoniaJ
Kenya. Portsmouth: Heinemann, 2004. 287 pp. ISB^
0-325-07131-4. Price; $27.95
This is an important book considering problems not
previously well-considered in African social studies-
Peterson, an historian with a good grasp of cultura
anthropology and language studies, describes how the
introduction of literacy and writing profoundly altere
the ways an African people learned both how to con
struct new ideas about themselves and their society-
terson’s study examines the Gikuyu of Kenya, a peopJ
who have figured centrally in historical thinking abo
the ways East Africans have both modernized and als^
resisted the disintegrative forces of colonialism. Centi ^
to Peterson’s arguments are the ways translation an
redefinition of the Gikuyu language have provided nc
ways for politicized Gikuyu to claim political and cun
al legitimacy yet also forge new modes of organizan
and social criticism.
Anthropos 101-2
Rezensionen
317
Peterson’s central Gikuyu theme is the concept and
social processes of ituika, the legitimate changes em-
bodied in each new generation’s succession to the pow-
er, authority, and resources commanded by traditional
elders. Ituika involves the cultural replication of tra-
ditional Gikuyu values of hard work, social responsi-
bility, and communal cohesion, all transmitted in new
ways with each new generation’s confrontation of new
social problems and difficulties. Obviously, the intro-
duction of British colonial rule with its accompanying
factors of racism, capitalistic exploitation, Christianity,
and the growth of severe social inequalities led to se-
rious fractures in the ways successive generations of
Gikuyu sometimes were positioned toward one another.
Less available land, overpopulation, loss of wealth, and
erosion of family, village, gender, and age roles all
Posed dire threats to the earlier Gikuyu values of mbari
(community).
Peterson’s study focuses on Nyeri, an area one
hundred miles north of Nairobi. This is an area where the
Politics of changing family values was especially hard-
fought, in part because it was an area hard-hit by the
absence of men drawn off as wage labourers striving to
find a living as land shortages and rising costs of living
undermined communal security. Nyeri was also the
Scene of the most horrific massacre of Gikuyu by Gikuyu
during the Mau-mau rebellion against British rule.
Peterson’s brilliant study reflects a deep and percep-
hye grasp of the Gikuyu language, one that is attuned
to the problems of standardization in the face of con-
Slderable dialectical differences regionally as well as to
lhe difficulties of orthography. He cleverly shows how
Such linguistic issues involve important political issues
ab°ut who and where proper Gikuyu will be created and
defined as well as how these reflect contended claims for
^hat meanings of words are valid and traditional. Peter-
s°n is especially insightful in showing how translations
Christian literature, especially the New Testament,
lnto Gikuyu afforded means for Gikuyu to forge their
ideas about the meaning of both their traditional
ehefs and how these related to new ideas and values,
ikuyu far more than the British missionaries used such
nations to construct a new ethos combining tradition
and
Giku
uiodernity. Literacy provided important ways for
'Yu to examine and argue about a wide range of
aUd emS reSard’nS family order, gender, a work ethic,
communal cooperation. Pursuing such language-
to educated Gikuyu set new and crucial importance
es c°ntrolIing their own education and their new us-
aati^ Gikuyu and English. The rise of Gikuyu
'Vas°na^Sm anC* t^le P°Lrical independence movement
the' lnseParable from Gikuyu concerns over controlling
in °Wn *ocal schools and what language was taught
(tide em *n tum to t^ie fountfing of Gikuyu
^°Cafen^ent cfiurcLes- Th®86 activities also encouraged
ailcj Gikuyu record-keeping, diaries, autobiographies,
tent- other writings which facilitated constructive con-
Valul°n and creation of reformulated Gikuyu beliefs and
c0joes which better served the new challenges posed by
njal economic and political policies.
nthroP°s 101.2006
In his final chapter, Peterson shows how the writ-
ings of the great Gikuyu novelist, Ngugi wa Thiong’o,
continue such innovative use of the Gikuyu language.
Ngugi relinquished writing in English in order to pro-
mote a new Gikuyu political and cultural consciousness,
one acutely critical of contemporary Kenyan politics
and society. Peterson shows how Ngugi has used key
Gikuyui words in new ways in order to argue for
political, economic, and cultural reforms. Peterson’s
analysis provides the most insightful criticism of Ngu-
gi to have recently appeared. He shows how Ngugi’s
work, especially his famous novel “Matigari” (banned
in Kenya), comes full-circle to take up the issues first
presented in the earlier Gikuyu writings of the 1920s,
1930s, and 1940s where ituika, institutionalized genera-
tional conflict and change, embodying the strengths and
dynamism of Gikuyu society at its best, allows each
generation to seek to reformulate traditions to respond
to the new social and economic challenges that it con-
fronts.
This is a deeply original and valuable study. It
demonstrates how language and literacy in Africa are
profoundly embedded in the political and economic
changes that have revolutionized the continent. I rec-
ommend it to anyone interested in social and cultural
change in Africa.
I have, however, one minor criticism, perhaps col-
ored by my own brief experiences in Kenya. I first
arrived in East Africa in Nairobi in 1957 during the
final period of the Mau-mau emergency. Gun installa-
tions were in the heart of the city, pass-laws bedev-
iled all African movement, and huge relocation (con-
centration) camps marked the landscape. Later visits
to the Gikuyu countryside, especially to the Aberdare
Mountains which were the final refuge of Mau-mau
fighters, were very frightening. Fear and suspicion and
menace seemed everywhere. For me, Peterson’s account
of the divisions and violence that rent Gikuyu society
during the emergency seems understated. The writings
of Ngugi, especially his first novels, bring such menace
clearly to recognition as do the brilliant writings of Greet
Kershaw which Peterson cites. Perhaps more account
of these negative aspects would have better shown the
power and importance (but also serious strains and
difficulties) in this tormented society. The grudges and
ill will of the emergency and the difficult times that
followed with independence remain central to Kenyan
life and continue to cast a sense of menace in this
unfortunate country. After his imprisonment in Kenya
where many of his writings were banned, Ngugi left to
live and write in the United States. He returned briefly
to Kenya in the summer of 2004. Then he was beaten
and tortured and his wife raped. While some explain
this as a case of the robbery and violence rampant in
Kenya today, others think it likely that other, political
and ethnic, forces were behind this attack. Ngugi, of
course, has returned to the United States to continue
working at my university.
These sorry events only underscore the continued im-
portance of Gikuyu controversial writing and language
318
Rezensionen
for understanding Kenya politics and society. They re-
inforce my strong recommendations for all Africanists
to read this excellent book. T. O. Beidelman
Rabben, Linda: Brazil’s Indians and the Onslaught
of Civilization. The Yanomami and the Kayapo. Seattle:
University of Washington Press, 2004. 214 pp. ISBN
0-295-98362-0. Price: $ 18.95
Is there any future for Brazil’s indigenous peoples?
Pessimistic questions like this one prevailed in national
and international debates until the 1980s and 1990s.
Notwithstanding the continuance of these visions in
some human rights activist circles, nowadays the in-
digenous population is the most increasing segment of
Brazil’s society in demographic terms. The last nation-
al census, from 2000, for example, indicated a total
number of more than 700,000 individuals classifying
themselves as indigenous, denoting not only a strong
numerical contrast to the results a decade ago, but also
an increasing encouragement in indigenous self-identi-
fication. With the exception of some very small groups,
Brazil’s Indians in their totality are no longer a physi-
cally endangered population. The menaces became more
cultural and territorial than genocidal. One of the first
anthropologists who called our attention to this changing
situation was Mércio Pereira Gomes (Os indios e o
Brasil. Ensaio sobre um holocausto e sobre uma nova
possibilidade de convivência. Petrôpolis 1988; review
in Anthropos 85.1990: 601 f. Transi.; The Indians and
Brazil. Gainesville 2000).
Rabben’s book should be seen as part of this current
trend to present Brazil’s Indians in a new light. It is a
revised and enlarged edition of her “Unnatural Selection.
The Yanomami, the Kayapô, and the Onslaught of
Civilization” (London 1998). Her peg is that many in-
digenous groups in Brazil face threats to their cultural
and even physical survival, but that the Kayapô and
the Yanomami played a special role in this context by
gaining world’s public attention and by this way the
chance to reverse their presumed destiny.
The book has an explicitly nonscientific character,
and it would be unfair to evaluate it by scientific stan-
dards. The author’s motivations come from her human
rights advocacy, which becomes quite clear in the au-
tobiographical parts of her introduction where she also
distinguishes the political engagement of many Brazilian
anthropologists as an important contribution to indige-
nous rights advocacy. As Rabben, an anthropologist and
independent consultant to nongovernmental organiza-
tions, is quite explicit in her positions, the principal
review criteria become the information transmitted and
the kind of its representation, formal standards to be
neglected.
In Rabben’s view, the Kayapô and Yanomami repre-
sent some kind of paradigms, and not only illustrative
examples, of how Brazil’s indigenous peoples might
react with different success to encroachments on their
territories and societies on the “frontier.” One of the
distinguished features is the role played by some indige-
nous leaders with exceptional mobilization capacities
and knowledge about the nonindigenous world and their
rules, exemplified by the Kayapo Paulinho Payakan and
the Yanomami Davi Kopenawa. So the central parts of
the book focus on two chapters with general information
about the two peoples and two political biographies
of Payakan and Kopenawa. Rabben emphasizes the
enormous risk of wear and tear these leaders generally
suffer by their public exposition on international stages.
Certainly, Payakan’s comet-like career as a symbol of
ecological sanctity and its abrupt end in 1992 catalyzed
by the well-known rape charge (later publicly assumed
by him) are the best example which could be chosen.
These biographical chapters are clearly the best parts of
the book, while the two chapters with general informa-
tion about Kayapo and Yanomami historical experiences
with “civilization” suffer from not having consulted
many publications of important specialists as Lux Vidal,
Gustaaf Verswijver, or William Fisher for the Kayapo,
for example, which could have considerably enriched
the information presented.
In Rabben’s juxtaposition, the Kayapo “model” is
based on a high level of self-organization, grim defense
of their territories, broad visibility in the media, and
good alliances with nonindigenous supporters from all
over the world, while the Yanomami have to cope with
a high degree of intercommunity dissention and conflict
and, consequently, greater vulnerability, making their
defense extremely dependent on outside nonindigenous
supporters. This makes it clear that indigenous survival
in Brazil is not only dependent on concrete political
actions, but also on a variety of images about Indians
circulating around the world. For this reason, Rabben
underlines the importance to take a look at the imaginary
about Brazilian Indians since colonial times, but focuses
especially the quite polemical debates around the “cor-
rect” representation of the Yanomami, dedicating a total'
ly new chapter not published in the former edition to the
well-known debates provoked by Tierney’s “Darkness
in El Dorado” (New York 2000). Another new chapt£l
is about the fascinating ethnogenetic processes in the
Northeast during the last decades.
Rabben’s book is easy lecture in a positive sense-
interesting, fluid, and few endnotes. Save some unneC'
essary reiterations, it is almost impossible to get then
from it. But this does not mean that the book has
no shortcomings, and some of them are serious. The
chapters generally are very descriptive and the reads's
might miss more analysis, but this is not the main point-
The book’s objective requires concise narratives abo^
the general traits of Brazilian history and social an
economic development, but Rabben’s historical recap11
ulations became too simplistic, schematic, and super
ficial, generously forgetting critical evaluations oi 111
few sources consulted. Some simplifications are qul?s
horrible, and even clearly wrong, indicating the author
ignorance of important details of Brazilian history-
For example, on p. 33 can be read a generali21 ^
statement that “the Indians retreated into Brazil’s m°
remote areas.” But, taking this declaration for graU6
:d,
Anthropos Ю1
,2006
Rezensionen
319
how to explain the “emerging Indians” of chapter 8
who live in the older colonization areas of Northeastern
Brazil and even in metropolitan regions like that of
Fortaleza and Sao Paulo? On the other hand, clearly
wrong information is given about the notorious Decree
1775/96, stating that the demarcation process of indige-
nous lands can be legally contested and interrupted at
any stage before being registered at the local land office.
This is not true. There is only one phase in the whole
regularization process of indigenous lands which permits
legal contestations by interested individuals and groups;
during a three-month period after the publication of the
identification results with limits proposals in the Federal
Government’s official daily gazette (“Diàrio Oficial da
Fhfiào”). Although these applications can seriously slow
down demarcation processes, most are dismissed by
federal courts if the delimitation proposal is founded
°n good anthropological expertise.
It is also wrong to state that demarcation guarantees
‘preferential use and control” of indigenous lands (97).
Brazil’s current Federal Constitution does not concede
Preferential use of their lands to the Indians, but exclu-
sive use, and this makes a great difference.
Other kinds of errors are more amusing than irri-
tating, for example, the statement that “the Villas Boas
brothers founded the Xingu Indigenous Park” (36). How
^as this possible? Private persons can “found” indige-
n°us lands on federal territory? Another example: how
was it possible that the famous writer Stefan Zweig
became “German” [sic!]?
Simplistic or even wrong information, however, are
tbinor problems comparing to a series of unexplained
°r badly demonstrated causalities important for under-
handing political and other processes. To confine our-
Selves only to the Kayapo case, it becomes difficult for
readers to comprehend why some of their political and
Military actions result from others, why the Gorotire
Ullage suddenly became “dirty” after contact with gold
i ners (61), why sexually transmitted diseases came
P m that village (who transmitted them and by what
ay7), and so on. It is impossible to understand some
failure change processes among the Kayapo, while other
tural descriptions explain nothing. For example, you
,n re&d that “chiefs derived their power from their
Uity to withdraw with their followers to start or join
pother village” (54), but how did they get this ability?
nP this ability is not a kind of power?
tatiSome of these problems of information, represen-
c l0n’ and explanation could have been avoided by
the more publications written by specialists on
ter resPec9ve topics. This becomes evident in the chap-
cj about indigenous ethnogenesis in the Northeast,
wea^est chapter. Important specialists about
^aKk UCUm anc* Patax° Ha-Ha-Hae are ignored so that
v en could declare that “a few years ago, they [the
Cq CUru] were said to be ‘extinct’” (150), but mention
of babictorily that “in 1944 the SPI [the predecessor
nUm,e current Indian board FUNAI] said the Xucuru
0ev erec* 2,191” (155). On the contrary, the Xucuru
er Were declared extinct, even if complete assimi-
Vhr
lation was their officially prognosticated fate, but this
did not happen, and the Xucuru, nowadays the most
numerous indigenous people in Pernambuco state, re-
inforced their ethnic boundaries. So, a declaration like
“the Xucuru people of Northeastern Brazil have come
back from the dead” (150) should be understood as a
kind of funny irony. A more cautious approach could
have helped to avoid to characterize Xucuru religion as
“animistic” (152) or to declare the colonial aldeamentos
as places of refuge (153), while these were missionary
settlements which concentrated indigenous populations
of different ethnic origins with the aim not only to cate-
chize them but also to “cleanse” the ethnic landscape so
that their former indigenous territories could be occupied
by colonizers. On the same page, Rabben affirms that the
aldeamentos were transformed into vilas in the middle
of the eighteenth century, bringing together members of
different groups, but this already had happened in the
aldeamentos on the legal basis of a royal charter from
1700.
While readers may miss more information in some
chapters, other parts are unnecessary for understanding
the subject, for example, the section about Lévi-Strauss
and his vision of the Indians and their future. Rabben’s
standpoint is quite explicit, favoring an engaged version
of anthropology and its narratives, but some positions
could have been better explained. Regarding the “Dark-
ness in El Dorado” debate, for example, why Chagnon’s
adversaries are called “opponents,” while his defenders
are termed “partisans”? And why Chagnon’s biosocio-
logical approach to Yanomami intrasocietal conflicts is
criticized, but not Brian Ferguson’s materialistic theory?
The latter is politically more tolerable?
Rabben’s book is a good introduction to the enor-
mous challenges faced by Brazilian Indians nowadays
- for laypersons and for some undergraduate lessons.
Specialists, on the contrary, might feel disappointed for
not finding new aspects or explanations. An interesting
book, well written and recommendable, but somehow
only bonitinho (“nice”), as Brazilians say.
Peter Schroder
Riese, Berthold (Hrsg.): Crónica Mexicayotl. Die
Chronik des Mexikanertums des Alonso Franco, des
Hernando de Alvarado Tezozomoc und des Domingo
Francisco de San Antón Muñón Chimalpahin Quauht-
lehuanitzin. Aztekischer Text ins Deutsche übersetzt
und erläutert. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 2004.
425 pp. ISBN 3-89665-271-0. (Collectanea Institut! An-
thropos, 44) Preis: € 59,00
Nach Sahaguns “Historia de las cosas de Nueva
España” ist die “Crónica Mexicayotl” eines der hervor-
ragendsten Dokumente des Korpus, das ungefähr 1550-
1650 in der klassischen aztekischen Sprache (Nahuatl)
verfasst wurde. Bertold Riese, der sich lange Jahre der
Maya-Archäologie und -Epigraphie gewidmet hat, hat
sich jetzt der aztekischen Geschichte und Kultur zu-
gewandt und erschließt hier für die deutschsprachigen
Amerikanisten diesen bemerkenswerten Text.
'°Pos 101.2006
320
Rezensionen
Die “Crónica” ist eine geschichtliche Erzählung, in
der aus aztekischer Sicht von den legendären Zeiten von
Aztlan und der Wanderung bis zu den Ereignissen des
Jahres 1579 berichtet wird. Ungefähr 1590 von Her-
nando de Alvarado Tezozomoc geschrieben, ist uns die
“Crónica” aber durch ein späteres Manuskript bekannt,
eine Abschrift vom berühmten Chronisten Chimalpahin,
mit einer Einleitung von einem gewissen Alonso Franco.
Dieses Manuskript wird heute in der British and Foreign
Bible Society in Cambridge aufbewahrt. In der Univer-
sidad Nacional Autónoma de México hat Adrián León
1949 eine Ausgabe mit spanischer Übersetzung heraus-
gegeben, basierend auf einer Abschrift, dem Manuskript
311 der Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris.
In seiner Einleitung (13-31) stellt Berthold Rie-
se den Text vor und gibt einen geschichtlichen Über-
blick über die verschiedenen späteren Versionen. Er
erklärt und rechtfertigt einige Aspekte seiner eigenen
Edition (Einführungen, Tilgungen, Veränderungen), was
die Textmarkierungen, die Buchstabenschreibung und
die Worttrennung betrifft. Schließlich gibt er einige
Auskünfte über seine sprachlichen und historischen
Quellen.
Es folgt der Text selbst, mit einer deutschen Über-
setzung (33-346). Riese hat ihn inhaltlich sehr klar und
detailliert gegliedert: etwa 280 Überschriften nennen
die wichtigen Ereignisse, z. B. “Tod des des Coxcoxtli”
(127) , “Achitometl wird Adlersprecher in Culhuacan”
(128) , “Huitzilopochtli kündigt das Erscheinen seiner
Großmutter Yaocihuatl an” (128), “Die Mexikaner er-
bitten Achitometls Tochter” (129), “Achitometls Tochter
wird geschunden” (131) usw. Aber sein wichtigster und
wertvollster Beitrag sind die zahlreichen Anmerkun-
gen (insgesamt 1764!) von lexikalischem, grammatikali-
schem, historischem, kulturellem, ja sogar zoologischem
und botanischem Interesse.
Im Anhang findet man eine Liste von Symbolen
und Abkürzungen, eine Bibliographie von ungefähr 180
Titeln, ein Register mit über 1000 Eigennamen von
Personen und Orten, die im Text erscheinen, Faksimiles
von 13 Seiten der Handschrift und 3 Karten.
Mit diesem vielgestaltigen wissenschaftlichen Bei-
trag, mit den Querverbindungen und der ausführlichen
Gliederung, nötig “für Referenzzwecke, zum flüssigen
Lesen und für die Koordination von Text und Über-
setzung” (22), hat Riese ein sehr schönes, lehrreiches
und angenehmes Buch konzipiert und verfasst. Gleich-
zeitig (und das spiegelt sich auch in der Bibliographie
wider) erinnert er uns an die Bedeutung und die Qualität
der deutschsprachigen Amerikanistik, aus sprachlichen
Gründen leider oft unterschätzt, zumindest außerhalb
Europas.
Wenn eine Kritik berechtigt zu sein scheint und hier
ausgedrückt werden darf, so betrifft sie den grammati-
schen Bereich. Ungefähr ein Drittel der Notizen wird
Fragen der Grammatik gewidmet, von denen etwa 170
morphologische Analysen von langen oder komplizier-
ten Wortbildungen sind. Leider ist die Methode nicht
immer zutreffend und die Quellen werden nicht immer
ausreichend genutzt.
So ist eine “flache” Analyse, die als einzige Di-
mension die lineare Abfolge der Morpheme in Be-
tracht zieht, manchmal eher verwirrend als klar. Zum
Beispiel, xitlahtocayotican (En 822) “ihr sollt die Herr-
schaft begründen” ist nicht direkt abgeleitet vom Verb
tla-hto(a) “sprechen”, “etwas sagen”, sondern vom No-
men tlahto(h)-ca-yo-(tl) “Herrschaft”, ein abstraktes No-
men, abgeleitet von tlahtoa-ni / tlahtoh-ca- “Redner”:
die Struktur ist nicht xi-tla-htoh-ca-yo-ti-can, sondern
(xi-((((tla-htoh)-ca)-yo)-ti)-can). Wenn Riese in einigen
Beispielen eine phonologische Abschrift benutzt, ist er
berechtigt, einige Phoneme mit zwei Buchstaben zu
notieren (z. B. /tl/, /ch/), aber nicht dasselbe Phonem /k/
bald /c/, bald /qu/, je nach der spanischen Rechtschrei-
bung.
Riese wendet manchmal grammatischen Regeln un-
zureichend an, die er sonst kennt und benutzt. Zum
Beispiel, die “Ligatur” -ti-, die ein Verballexem mit
einem Koppelverb verbindet, kann auf keinen Fall nach
einem Nominallexem erscheinen. So ist die Interpre-
tation (En 363) von o-ten-ti-mo-man mit -ten- als No-
men “Lippe” unmöglich: es ist eigentlich das Verb tenii
“kommen bis zum Rand”, und so meint es “(das Wasser)
floss aus (mo-man) voll” (was mit dem Zusammenhang
motecac in atl “das Wasser breitete sich aus” überein-
stimmt). In En 123 fragt sich Riese bezüglich nelhua-
yohua “Wurzeln schlagen”, wie die Gesamtbedeutung
“Wurzeln schlagen” aus den Einzelbedeutungen nelhua
“Wurzel” und yohua “dunkel werden” zu bilden ist, aber
er sieht diesmal nicht die richtige Struktur: nelhua “Wur-
zel” + -yo- “abstrakt” + -wa, ein sehr übliches Suffix, das
auf abstrakte Nomina Verben bildet, mit der Bedeutung
“überfliessen vor”, “voll sein”, z. B. a-yo-hua “sein voll
Wasser”, azca-yo-hua “wimmeln vor Ameisen” usw.
Riese denkt nicht immer an gewisse grammatische
Morpheme und Strukturen, wie zum Beispiel an die
Inkorporation (Zusammensetzung von einem VerbalR'
xem mit einem Nominallexem). So ist z. B. (En 1093)
nicmacahua nicht ein Fehler für ni-c-maca “Ich gebe
ihm es” ist, sondern ni-c-ma-cahua “Ich verlasse es >
“Ich lasse es aus meinen Händen fallen” (von -cahaa
“lassen” und -ma- “Hand”). In En 1662 ist quidahtocat'
lallica nicht ein Fehler für quitlahtocatlallico (mit den1
“zentripetalen” Suffix -co), sondern ein Plusquamp61'
fekt in -ca (richtig erkannt in En 402), eine Form, d,e
in Nahuatl gebraucht wird, um gescheiterte Ereignisse
zu ausdrücken (der Text sagt eigentlich: “der Markgra
setzte den Don Juan Velazquez Tlacotzin als Herrsche1
ein ... Er hätte hier herrschen sollen, aber er starb )•
Manchmal sieht es so aus, als hätte Riese eine un
zureichende Vertrautheit mit den Texten des Korpn^
in aztekischer Sprache, was ihn daran hindert, einig^
recht üblichen Ausdrücke zu erkennen. Zum Beisp1
toxiuh molpili (En 306), wörtlich “Unsere Jahre bande
sich aneinander”, erscheint häufig in anderen Chronik6^
besonders in Chimalpahin, und ist keinewegs
phologisch undurchsichtig”. In En 635-636 wird
totlalcahualtilizque timitztotlapololtilizque übersetzt
“Wir werden dir das Land (-dal-) hinterlassen (-cahua ^
wir wollen dich begrüßen”, aber in diesem Sinn ist
2006
Anthropos 101-
Rezensionen
321
Applikativ cahui-lia, nicht ein Kausativ cahua-ltia er-
wartet, und “begrüßen” ist eigentlich tlapaloa. In Wirk-
lichkeit erscheint diese doppelte Formulierung in meh-
reren Texten des Buchs VI der “Historia General” und
meint wörtlich “Wir werden euch dazu bringen (-lti[a],
Kausativ in beiden Verben), alles (-da-) zu vergessen
(/ijlcahua), alles zu verderben (polo[a])”\ dies ist ein
Ausdruck der Entschuldigung am Anfang einer Rede,
was zu verstehen ist als “wir sind armselige Redner”.
Diese Kritik darf jedoch nicht überbewertet werden.
Die fehlerhaften Analysen sind selten, sie haben wenig
Einfluss auf eine Übersetzung, die im Ganzen sehr genau
ist, und Riese ist in dieser Hinsicht viel zuverlässiger
als manche Historiker des mexikanischen Altertums, die
auf die Grammatik der azteki sehen Sprache wenig Auf-
merksamkeit verwenden und so eine verfälschte Version
Von Texten und der Kultur überliefern. Außerdem sind
diese ausdrücklichen Analysen ein Beweis, dass Riese
auf eine bessere Überlieferung der Sprache und der
Kultur hinzielt und dass er dafür Risiken eingeht, im
Gegensatz zu vielen anderen, die dem Leser keinerlei
Begründung ihrer problematischen Übersetzungen ange-
ben. Man kann so erwarten, dass, was Riese selbst (29)
ehrlich und bescheiden über seine “mangelnde Kenntnis
der aztekischen Syntax und Textstrukturen” bemerkt,
nur eine vorläufige Etappe ist, und behaupten, dass die
Gemeinschaft der Mexikanisten mit diesem Buch reicher
Und glücklicher geworden ist. Michel Launey
Robinson, Rowena: Christians of India. New Delhi;
thousand Oaks: Sage Publications, 2003. 235 pp. ISBN
81-7829-292-0; 0-7619-9822-5. Price: £29.99
Among the Orientalists, India was imagined largely
as “Hindu” and Hinduism itself is constructed as mostly
a complex but integrated whole. Other religious com-
munities tend to be studied with the same conceptual
m°dels and categories as are used for Hinduism. The
rientalist perception is problematic, because as an es-
Sentialist perception of one community it precipitates
art essentialist construction of others, which are then
Studied in the context and the shadow of the first.
■ a result, anthropological interest in other religious
k endties in the subcontinent has been marginal at
esh especially the demographically smaller religious
^mmunities. Perhaps, the Muslims, who are politically,
^ st°rically, and demographically more important have
too significant to be ignored. But they remain
, lbe counterpoint “other” and increasingly so in
Qay’s contested context. However, Imtiaz Ahmad’s
a ,1^ °n Muslims in India has achieved something of
reakthrough for Islam in India.
SQc^bristians are still not really represented in the
"logical and anthropological literature despite some
Seminal
works to date. And when they are, this is done
j-L ' ----- .. — j -,
same sociological categories as are prevalent
bav ^Ursueci for the majority Hindu Community. There
t0oe.^een path-breaking regional studies on Christians
Ce’ ln Kerala, Goa, the North-East Christian tribals in
ral India, but not many all-India studies in any detail
nthroPos 101.2006
and depth as yet. Robinson’s book makes an important
contribution to filling this gap.
This book is part of her oeuvre, building up an
ethnography of Christians in India. “Conversion, Conti-
nuity, and Change: Lived Christianity in Southern Goa,”
appeared in 1998. “Religious Conversion in India: Mod-
els, Motivations, and Meanings,” edited with Sathia-
nathan Clarke in 2003, was published after the volume
under review. “Sociology of Religion in India,” edited
by her in 2004, covered other religion communities as
well. This volume must then be read as a part of such
an ongoing work-in-progress.
There are many Hindu religion traditions, a veritable
“Parliament of Religions” in Swami Vivekananda’s fe-
licitous phrase. Counter-posed to the many “Hinduisms”
there are indeed many Christianities in India, as indeed
many Islams too. For as Gramsci had pointed out that
every religion is in fact many religions. The origins of
these Christian communities, the methods and circum-
stances of their conversion to Christianity, their rela-
tionships and integration with the larger more universal
church and to the local communities are different and
distinct in the specific history and geography of each
community. Robinson’s ethnographic detail establishes
the great diversity of Christian communities in India,
that have far more in common with regional cultures
than with a constructed all-Indian Christian one.
Christianity in South India predates colonialism, but
it is the colonial period that marked the missionary
enterprise in the churches, inevitably leading to the
image of a Westernized religious tradition, a church
transplanted from Europe, and alien to this soil. This
is a gross oversimplification. Indian Christianity’s rela-
tionship with colonialism was far more ambiguous than
has been projected. It is evident that at times it was very
much under the imperial shadow, but frequently its mis-
sion was in opposition to the colonial government and
neither were the Christian communities dependent on it.
The postcolonial Christians are now moving “From
the Periphery to the Centre” (ch. 1). With care and sensi-
tivity, Robinson traces the journeys through the “Social
Worlds of Conversion” (ch. 2) and sketches the immense
variety in the “Patterns of Internal Differentiation” of
the local churches (ch. 3). There is “Consonance and
Conflict” as these local religious traditions negotiate
their social space and eventually form a “composite”
rather than a “syncretic” culture (ch. 4). Kinship rela-
tions, marriage practices, inheritance norms, etc., remain
bound to local custom and practices, despite prevailing
personal law for all Christians at the all-India level
(ch. 5). Today the “Challenges to the Church” from their
own internally marginalised communities, particularly
Dalits and Tribals, is changing the churches (ch. 6).
The story of the “Christians of India” is long and
rich, beginning in Kerala in the 1st century of the Chris-
tian era, finding new energy with the colonial expansion,
and now seeking to establish their rightful place on the
national scene, this is a saga of accommodation and as-
similation, or syncretism and synthesis, that establishes
their diverse distinctiveness, not only in regard to the
322
Rezensionen
subcontinental religious traditions, but in the worldwide
community of the Christians as well.
Robinson’s presentation is made on a broad, com-
parative canvas and it questions the received wisdom
of conventional understandings. The historical detail
and ethnographic richness of this book merits earnest
recommendation to scholars and students in the sociol-
ogy and anthropology of religion, as also to Indologists
and others engaged with Indian religions. Given the
increasingly controversial role of religion, Robinson’s
book provides an important initiation for the generally
concerned reader who is interested in contemporary
India. Rudolf C. Heredia
Rubel, Paula G., and Abraham Rosman (eds.):
Translating Cultures. Perspectives on Translation and
Anthropology. Oxford; Berg, 2003. 289 pp. ISBN 1-
85973-745-5. Price: £ 16.99
The eleven chapters of this volume were originally
presented at a conference titled “Translation and Anthro-
pology,” held at Barnard College, Columbia University,
10-12 November 1998. Contributions at that conference
by Suzanne Blier, S. Gavronsky, A. Krupat, S. Ortiz, and
D. Robinson are not included. In addition, the editors,
Rubel and Rosman, have written a well-balanced intro-
duction, which informs about the history of translation
theory, the relationship between fieldwork and transla-
tion as well as the emergence of theories which think of
anthropology as a science of translation and intercultural
communication, on the one hand, or which call into
question the legitimacy of translation altogether, on the
other hand.
One could try to evaluate this book by looking at
publications of the same scope and group of themes.
On the cover it is proudly announced as “the first book
to fully address translation in anthropology.” However,
the contributions of a conference entitled “Translationes
- A Conference on Intercultural Understanding,” held
at Leipzig in September 2000, were published in the
same year (T. Maranhâo and B. Streck [eds.], Transla-
tion and Ethnography. Tucson 2003). The three-volume
encyclopedia of translation studies (H. Kittel et al. [eds.],
Übersetzung - Translation - Traduction. Berlin 2004 ff.)
will exhaustively enlighten about all problems concern-
ing translation. Here, Mueller-Vollmer’s contribution
“Sprachphilosophie und Übersetzung” and Bachmann-
Medick’s “Kulturanthropologie und Übersetzung” (in
the first volume published already in 2004) supplement
part I (General Problems of Translation) of the book
under review and refer to a good number of anthologies,
readers, classical authors (for example Schleiermacher
and Benjamin), and canonical problems (for example
the Sapir-Whorf-hypothesis or the culture-as-text-pro-
posals).
While Mueller-Vollmer and Bachmann-Medick may
aim at completeness and systemization, the general and
introductory chapters of the “Translation and Anthropol-
ogy/Ethnography”-volumes have to develop their ideas
by overcoming the contingencies of the individual con-
tributions. Surprisingly, the frame is the same in all
contributions: the recent history of translation in the
narrow sense of glossing and, in the broadest sense, as
cross-cultural understanding starts with Schleiermacher
and leads to, among others, Steiner, Asad, and Clif-
ford, the problems are transferred from hermeneutics
to symbolic and interpretive anthropology, and methods
and models are determined by what the anthropologists
actually do during the different phases of their fieldwork.
They move from primary glossing to contextualization,
from linguistic to cultural translation, from more or less
adequate meaning equivalences to the construction of
different universes of meaning.
Both volumes extend into nonverbal semiotic sys-
tems. In the volume edited by Maranhâo and Streck,
Jean Jackson investigates the verbalization of pain, the
transfer of nonverbal meanings into a source language
before its translation into a target language. MacGaffey
(chap. 10, “Structural Impediments to Translation in
Art,” in Rubel and Rosman) looks at artifacts and objects
of art as displayed in museums. These objects require
“translation,” that is narrative information, the adequate
presentation consisting in “endowing an object with an
enabling narrative” (263). The meaning of an object is
translated from the visual code into language, which
functions as a metalanguage to all other codes.
The general problem of this kind of translation is dis-
cussed by Silverstein (chap. 3), who makes a difference
between translation, transduction, and transformation-
The term “translation” probably refers to lexical as well
as grammatical equivalences, to establishing “dénota-
tional textuality - coherent language-as-used to repre-
sent states-of-affairs involving things-in-universe-of-ref-
erence” (76). By “transduction” is meant “a process
of reorganizing the source semiotic organization ... by
target expressions-in-co(n)text of another language pre'
sented through perhaps semiotically diverse modalities
differently organized” (83). Thus, with respect to “oh'
scenities, imprecations, curses, etc., ... the denotation^!
literalness ... plays a small role in the choice of a props1
and best ‘translation’” (87): transduction is required-
Finally, there is always the possibility of transformation’
e.g., “Victor Hugo’s novel ‘Les Misérables’ ‘adapted
- ‘translated’ - to the musical stage by Sir Andrei
Lloyd Webber and associates” (91 f.), a process which
requires the change of symbolic systems. The role °
a metalanguage, the natural reflexivity of speech in al
kinds of translation, is not clearly seen and discussed,
only shows up, when the connection between a source
language and the analytical concepts of the ethnographe
are discussed (see Rubel and Rosman in the “Introduc
tion” [12], and Rosman and Rubel in chap. 11, *
Kinship Terminologies and Kinship Concepts Transit
able?”). Having discussed how Morgan, Rivers, Mal)
nowski, and others collected the kinship terms, Rosing
and Rubel conclude that “the analytical categories whic
allow cross-cultural comparison ... can be of enorrno
help to the translator” (282). g
Besides M. Silverstein, A. A. Yengoyan and T. J011 „
write in part I on “General Problems of Translation
Anthropos 101-200
Rezensionen
323
The first author presents the views of Lyotard and
Wittgenstein in order to explain how linguistic and
cultural translations differ - how the first leads to
deficiencies and the latter to exuberances. The second
author investigates the connection between “Translation
and Belief Ascription”: “The nature of belief is such that
we may never be sure we know what others are thinking
and saying. ... If translators would begin to more fully
integrate their vast knowledge of other’s lifeways, with
other researchers’ knowledge about the mind, we could
come much closer to what Clifford Geertz describes as
the fundamental goal of studying others” (69).
In part II, “Specific Applications,” M. Herzfeld treats
“ethnographic translation and literary translation as two
different, if closely related, enterprises” (110), the folk
theory of a Moroccan storyteller is described by Deborah
Kapchan, W. Keane assesses the role of Indonesian as
a national language, B. Messick presents notes on Ara-
bic-to-English transliteration, finally, two contributions
relate to religion; the difficulties of translating the
concept of trinity are discussed by B. Saler, and A. Segal
famines “some of the strangest literature of the ancient
^orld, where the metaphor of translation to heaven also
expresses a biblical concept of ecstasy” (213).
The sequence of seemingly diverse contributions can
be pieced together into a mosaic work which helps to
represent how linguistic and cultural translation depend
°n each other, how the philological attempts of glossing
and transliteration develop into cultural translations, and
how translation depends on the knowledge of different
symbolic systems and the possibility of constructing a
Metalanguage. The mosaic work, however, sometimes
remains, so to say, like a mere shadow. I believe that
too many by-ways are gone over, furthermore, too many
^orks of other researchers (e.g., Malinowski) are quoted
(()n more than one occasion so that the fragmentary
eatures of one’s proper research are inappropriately
stressed. Conversely, the discussion of philosophers and
translation theorists proceeds from anthologies, not from
ae original texts. The contributions rely on cultural
translations and are preliminary.
Volker Heeschen
Sanga, Glauco, and Gherardo Ortalli (eds.): Nature
riowledge. Ethnoscience, Cognition, and Utility. New
5?rk: Berghahn Books, 2003. 417 pp. ISBN 1-57181-
ö23'5. Price: £ 17.00
> Natur überrascht den Menschen noch im modernen
^eben durch ihre Vielfalt und Unberechenbarkeit. Das
eaken und Wissen über diese komplexe Lebensfülle
; ierhalb des eigenen Bewusstseins ist daher schon
tuMer zentraler Gegenstand der vergleichenden Kul-
n Wissenschaft gewesen, auch wenn die jeweils einge-
pr^mene Perspektive das Ergebnis entscheidend vor-
(j §t. Die mit Umwelt beschäftigte Ethnologie ist sich
Di^e^ahr, den naturwissenschaftlichen Umweltbegriff
^ tmodernen Gesellschaften zu unterstellen, nicht im-
^ r bewusst. Das lehrt auch der hier zu besprechende,
§eheuer reichhaltige Sammelband, an dem namhaf-
te Wissenschaftler aus Italien, Frankreich, Niederlande,
USA und Großbritannien sich beteiligt haben.
Es handelt sich um den sechs Jahre später heraus-
gekommenen Tagungsband einer internationalen Konfe-
renz, die unter dem Titel “Nature Knowledge / Saperi
naturalistici” vom 4. bis 6. Dezember 1997 in Venedig
abgehalten wurde. Obwohl als Ziel “thè folk, tradition-
al, and local forms of knowledge and uses of nature”
angegeben war, konnte die Ethnologie schon deswegen
kaum die Blickrichtung vorschreiben, weil sie sich mit
Historikern, Ökonomen, Linguisten und Biologen die
Zeit - und oft auch die Argumente - zu teilen hatte. Der
prinzipielle Unterschied zwischen einem wissenschaftli-
chen und einem nichtwissenschaftlichen Zugang zur be-
lebten und - materialistisch gesehen - unbelebten Natur
vermochte diese Venezianische Umweltdebatte kaum zu
stören, weil er weitgehend ausgeklammert blieb. Trotz-
dem enthält der dicke Band viele lesenswerte Beiträge
und dürfte vor allem für Ethnosemantiker, aber auch für
Wissenshistoriker eine willkommene Veröffentlichung
darstellen.
Die sehr heterogenen und wenig aufeinander bezo-
genen Aufsätze sind in fünf Abteilungen sortiert: “Clas-
sification”, “Naming”, “Thought”, “Use” und “Conser-
vation”. Jede Gruppierung wird von einer “Discussion”
abgeschlossen, in denen die Diskutanten immerhin teil-
weise sich antworten oder gar befehden und die von
Koordinatoren redigiert (und stark gekürzt) wurden.
In seiner Einleitung betont der Herausgeber Glauco
Sanga aus Venedig, dass es ihm nicht um eine Re-
naissance des Strukturalismus oder des Relativismus
gehe, sondern um das Bewusstsein, dass Ausbeutung
der Natur immer auch Ausbeutung des Menschen und
seiner Kultur bedeute, die die “Natur” hervorbringe und
auch bewahren müsse.
Der Band führt den Leser zunächst in die Kogniti-
ve Anthropologie und deren Probleme, “folk classifica-
tions” zu ermitteln, wie es Ethnosemantik, Sprachanaly-
sen und Rhetorikforschung seit einiger Zeit leisten. Eher
neu ist die Frage nach dem evolutionären Beginn des
Klassifizierens (das damals noch unbekannte MPIEVA
in Leipzig arbeitet heute daran), das wiederum eng mit
der Rolle des Nützlichkeitsgedankens (z. B. Honig für
den Menschen und Wachs für die Gottheit) verbun-
den ist. Dazu scheint auch die Geschlechtertrennung
zu gehören wie Berlin (1992) und Lakoff (1990), die
wichtigsten Autoritäten auf diesem Gebiet, betonen. Die
Abteilung enthält hoch interessante Ausführungen über
die schriftlich beglaubigte Geschichte der Taxonomie
und des ordnenden Denkens, aber auch schwer bis nicht
lesbare Passagen voller Formeln und Schaubildern. In
der Diskussion kam der transitorische und situationale
Charakter von Klassifikationen heraus, auch wenn der
Drang, in die Umwelt Ordnung zu bringen, eine anthro-
pologische Universale sei.
Die zweite, ebenso spannende Abteilung beschäftigt
sich mit der vorrangigen Methode des Ordnungschaf-
fens, der Nomenklatur. Namensgebung ist Neuschaf-
fung, Behauptung und Ummantelung in einem. Mario
Alinei aus Utrecht verfolgt die Genese von Begriffen in
Vh
r°pos 101.2006
324
Rezensionen
europäischen Sprachen und das Wandern von Lexemen
über Sprachgrenzen hinaus. Für archaisches Denken hält
er fest, dass die “natürliche” Welt nahtlos in die “über-
natürliche” eingehe und für jede Sprache gelte, dass sie
hauptsächlich aus “recyceltem” Material bestehe. Brent
Berlin aus Athens/USA überprüft (positiv) am Beispiel
des Gegensatzes südamerikanischer Bezeichnungen für
Tapir und Eichhörnchen die These von Thomas Aqui-
nus, dass Namen die Natur des Bezeichneten reflek-
tieren, und schlussfolgert, daß “if Neanderthals could
pronounce a high front vowel, in their ancient words it’s
likely that they did not use them for ‘mammoth’ ” (126).
Ebenso faszinierend sind die Überlegungen von
Maurizio Gnerre aus Neapel über die Entstehung von
Personen- und Ortsnamen sowie den Zusammenhang
zwischen beiden bei den Jivaro/Shuar. Jane H. Hill aus
Tucson/USA untersucht den Verlust von Namen und
Wissen am Beispiel der Tohono O’odham im ariden
Südwesten. Weitere Beispiele bis hin zum Zusammen-
hang zwischen Vogelgesängen, Ideophonen und Wortbil-
dungen in der austronesischen Palawan-Familie (Nicole
Revel vom CNRS, Paris) runden den Gang durch die
Wunderwelt der Namensgebung ab. In der Diskussion
wird festgehalten, dass die Shuar in historischer Zeit
ihre Flussnamen schon dreimal geändert hätten, während
in Europa dieses Genre zu den ältesten und stabilsten
Wörtern überhaupt zu gehören scheint. Auch Berlins
Phonosymbolismus wird hier in Frage gestellt, z. B. von
Barbara Turchetta aus Viterbo, die darauf verweist, dass
Italiener wie “ha ha ha” lachen, die Ewe aber wie “iki”.
Der dritte Abschnitt gilt dem symbolischen Gebrauch
von Natur, die als Modell und Metapher alle Sprachen
durchzieht und damit ein ideales Feld zum Studium ele-
mentarer Religion liefert. (Jean-Pierre Albert aus Tou-
louse: “religion may well be a sociocognitive arrange-
ment intended to accredit the unbelievable”; 236.) Ein-
gangs verweist Marlène Albert-Llorca aus Toulouse auf
die ethnosemantische Korrektur des Whorfschen Relati-
vismus: Morphologische und/oder ökologische Kriterien
führen überall zu ähnlichen Klassifikationen (Sperber
1975) und führt das anhand der universellen Auslegung
des Bienenstaats als jungfräulicher Reproduktionsveran-
staltung vor. Auch Giulio Angioni aus Cagliari/Italien
wendet sich gegen den “Pansemiologismus” der Whor-
fisten, weil Wissen nach André Leroi-Gourhan in non-
verbaler Praxis und nicht in explanatorischer Theorie
begründet sei. Eine Frau, die strickt, dabei ihr Baby
wiegt und Fernsehen schaut, ist Homo faber und nicht
Homo loquens.
Hier ist es dann Zeit für Jack Goody, der die eth-
nologische Einsicht in die Widersprüchlichkeit “primi-
tiven” Denkens anmahnt, die eben in den indigenen
Taxonomien nicht eingefangen würde, so wichtig diesel-
ben gegen den Sprachrelativismus auch seien. Er nennt
es das “black-is-beautiful problem”, weil die wertende
Unterscheidung zwischen den Farben Schwarz und Weiß
ebenfalls universal sei. So wie Heidentum die Botschaft
des Pluralismus enthalte, so bestehe das nichtwissen-
schaftliche Leben aus einer Pluralität von Taxonomien.
Auch die Attitude zur Ausbeutung der Natur sei ambi-
valent, z. B. das Töten des Korns oder des Opfertieres -
Widersprüche, der mit keiner Ethnosemantik beizukom-
men sei.
Keil (1979) hat das “unklare” Denken von Kindern
“ontologisch” genannt, wie Francis Zimmermann aus
Paris erinnert. Das sei aber auch Grundlage allen nicht-
wissenschaftlichen Klassifizierens; deswegen finde man
die Humoraltheorie als Bestandteil vieler archaischer
Medizindomänen - konditionale Universalien im Sinne
Greenbergs (1980). In der anschließenden Diskussion
führt Tim Ingold aus Aberdeen Hallowells Arbeit über
die “Ojibwa Ontology” (1960) an, in der das Fehlen des
Abstraktums “Natur” erläutert wird, die dafür konkret
bald als tot, bald als beseelt, bald als “Person” aufgefasst
wird. Ebenso sei Sprache als Abstraktum nicht exis-
tent, sondern gelte vielmehr als Leben des Sprechers.
Ergänzend erinnert Goody an die verschiedenen Formen
des Ikonoklasmus (im Judentum, im Christentum, im
Islam, aber auch im Buddhismus und Konfuzianismus),
die gewöhnlich mit besonderen Schüben der Rationali-
sierung einhergingen.
Im vierten und fünften Abschnitt tritt dann endgültig
die moderne Instrumentalisierung der Natur wie auch
die Sorge um ihren Erhalt in den Vordergrund. Doch
gehören dazu auch so spannende Themen wie das
Verhältnis von Naturkonzept und Eurozentrismus oder,
wie Giulio Angioni aus Cagliari formuliert, die Mission
von Christentum, Zivilisation und Kommerz. In diesem
Jahrhunderte währenden Trend wurde “Indigenous Envi-
ronmental Knowledge” (IK - nach Roy Ellen und Holly
Harris aus Kent) sukzessive zurückgedrängt, auch wenn
es immer wieder zu Vermischungen aus globalen und
lokalen Konzepten kommt. Tim Ingold problematisiert
hier die Grenze zwischen Organismus und Umwelt und
trifft gleichzeitig die Unterscheidung zwischen “tradi-
tional knowledge in modernist conception” (MTK) und
“traditional knowledge in local conception” (LTK).
Letzterer geht es um substantielles Denken, in Ersterem
um Prozesse, um Anwendbarkeit und Verfügbarkeit.
Michael Warren aus Ames/USA versteht sich als
Entdecker der “indigenous knowledge - IK” (1979. mlt
Brokensha und Werner), das seither systematisch gesarU'
melt und gespeichert werde. In der Diskussion wird dar-
an erinnert, dass insbesondere Weltbank, UNO und d(e
US-Regierung davon Gebrauch machten. Warren verte1'
digt sich, dass das IK nur für Kleinvorhaben mit einge'
planter Partizipation relevant sei, nicht für Mega-Projek'
te wie Tunnels oder Dämme. Hier wird dann auch die
Figur des “edlen Ökologisten” (Ellen 1986) erneut pr°'
blematisiert, zumindest wird ihm der “savage destroyer
zur Seite gestellt und die “primitive” Naturerhaltuiü
eher als Zufallsprodukt denn als intelligentes VorhaU’11
ausgelegt. Mauro Ambrosoli aus Undine/Italien verfoL
dazu die systematische Verbesserung des Saatgutes 1
frühneuzeitlichen Europa, während Gherardo Ortalli a 1
Venedig an die biblische Enthemmung vor der ^
tur erinnert, die Entheiligung von Quellen, Felsen al1
Bäumen sowie die Rodung in großem Stil, cHe 11
der mittelalterlichen Christianisierung einherging-
heute in Europa als Natur empfunden werde, sei c
Anthropos 101
2(#
Rezensionen
325
Kulturprodukt, wie etwa die für die italienische Land-
schaft typischen Bäume, die erst nach der Französischen
Revolution gepflanzt wurden.
Der Mangel dieser reichhaltigen Material- und Mei-
nungssammlung liegt, wie eingangs betont, auf der
häufigen Interpretation lokalen Wissens in Begriffen
des modernen Begreifens, das enthemmt, herrschaftlich,
logisch und instrumenten vorgeht. Goodys Einwand,
dass es sich im Heidentum selten um positives Wis-
sen handle, wurde von der Mehrzahl der versammelten
Umweltgelehrten nicht verstanden. Und Abhandlungen,
die anstelle von Nutzen und Pflege der Natur die Angst
vor ihr und die Partialbündnisse mit Teilen von ihr
thematisierten, fehlen gänzlich. Insofern ist der überaus
lesenswerte Sammelband nicht auf der Höhe ethnolo-
gischer Forschung, die mit Konzepten wie “interakti-
ve Arbeit” (Spittler) oder “qualitative Um weit Wahrneh-
mung” (Streck) der im nichtwissenschaftlichen Denken
dominanten Subjektivität der objektiven Welt gerecht zu
'Verden versucht. Bernhard Streck
Schareika, Nikolaus: Westlich der Kälberleine. No-
madische Tierhaltung und naturkundliches Wissen bei
den Wodaabe Südostnigers. Münster; Lit Verlag, 2003.
347 pp. ISBN 3-8258-5687-9. (Mainzer Beiträge zur
Afrika-Forschung, 9) Preis; € 25,90
Mobilität ist eines der aktuellen Themen der Sozial-
ünd Kulturwissenschaften. Die Fulfulde-sprechenden
Wodaabe, die zumeist in Niger sowie in Nordnigeria,
ln Kamerun, im Sudan und Tschad leben, praktizie-
ren bis heute eine traditionelle Form der Mobilität: sie
smd Rindernomaden. Neben einigen Bororo-Gruppen
können die Wodaabe als reine Nomaden unter den Pul-
ke betrachtet werden, mit ein Grund, dass sie in der
Philologischen Fulbe-Forschung eine besondere Rolle
einnehmen.
“Westlich der Kälberleine” von Nikolaus Schareika
dp die nomadische Tierhaltung mit den jahreszeitlich
öurchgeführten Wanderungen und das naturkundliche
gissen der Wodaabe zum Thema. Die Arbeit, die an der
niversität Mainz 2001 als Dissertation vorgelegt wur-
.e’ ist das Ergebnis einer 20-monatigen Feldforschung
den Jahren 1996, 1997 und 1998. Schareika wählt eine
esondere Form im Aufbau seiner Untersuchung, indem
^ große Teile seiner Ausführungen um wiedergegebene
^riginalzitate und deren Übersetzung herum aufbaut. Im
er>trum der Arbeit steht das große ökologische Wissen
er Wodaabe. So gäbe es kein Gespräch, in dem sie nicht
°rt ihre Tiere und Phänomene der natürlichen Um-
^ . thematisieren. Ihr ganzes wirtschaftliches Handeln
k e*st um die Rinder mit dem Ziel, die Herdenfrucht-
^Pkeit zu steigern, was man über eine Verbesserung
p,er körperlichen Verfassung der Tiere durch eine reiche
s Utterversorgung zu erreichen sucht. Primäres Ziel ihrer
dieS°na^en Wanderung ist es, das Nahrungsangebot für
® Tiere innerhalb eines gezielt ausgesuchten Raumes
Phtnal zu nutzen.
tü 1. Kapitel werden die theoretischen und metho-
chen Grundlagen diskutiert. Studien zum Nomadis-
Wth
roPos 101.2006
mus bzw. Untersuchungen zur tierhalterischen Mobi-
lität waren und sind Teil der wirtschaftsethnologischen
Forschung. Oft stand die Bedeutung der physischen
Umwelt für die ethnologische Untersuchung von Hir-
tengesellschaften im Zentrum: Weide, Wetter und Was-
ser als Determinismen einer tierhalterischen Mobilität.
Vorstellungen, dass die Verknappung der natürlichen
Nahrungsressourcen die Weidewanderungen in ariden
Gebieten hauptsächlich bestimmt, finden sich auch in
neuern Arbeiten. Für Schareika stellt sich jedoch die
Frage, wie knapp diese Ressourcen werden müssen,
um die Hirten zu Gegenstrategien greifen zu lassen.
Die Weidewanderung ist für ihn eine Option, eine le-
bens- und existenzbedrohende Situation abzuwenden.
Die Tierhalter reagieren nicht nur, sondern sie agieren
aktiv. Nach der ausführlichen Darlegung seiner methodi-
schen Vorgehensweise, wird knapp, jedoch ausreichend
(3 V2 Seiten) die untersuchte Ethnie beschrieben und auf
die recht umfangreiche Literatur hingewiesen.
In den Ausführungen mit dem fast prosaisch klin-
genden Titel “Der Busch, die Kuh und der Bodaado”
(Kap. 2) wird das enge Verhältnis der Wodaabe zu ih-
rer natürlichen Umwelt verdeutlicht, ein Beziehung, die
sich, so der Autor, auf einen einfachen Syllogismus brin-
gen lasse: “die Wodaabe leben von den Rindern, diese
leben vom Busch, und somit leben die Wodaabe mit
den Rindern vom und im Busch” (73). Für Nomaden ist
die Beziehung zu ihren Tieren entscheidend, denn ihre
Existenz ermöglicht es dem Menschen zu überleben,
befriedigen sie doch seine grundlegenden materiellen
Bedürfnisse. Daraus resultiert neben einer moralischen
Verantwortung den Rindern gegenüber eine geradezu
symbiotische Beziehung mit den Tieren, was mit zahl-
reichen Interviews eindrücklich belegt wird: “Ich habe
meine Rinder getötet”, so eine ihrer Aussagen, wenn
Verluste in den Herden auftreten. Sich um die Tiere zu
kümmern, wird nicht als eine freie Willensentscheidung,
sondern als eine tradierte, unveränderliche Tatsache ge-
sehen. Zentrale Bedeutung besitzt bei den Wodaabe der
Busch, der Ort der Weide, ein Raum, der als frei von al-
len Beschränkungen für Rinder und Halter gesehen wird.
Dem entgegengesetzt wird das Dorf mit den Feldern
der Bauern. Folglich findet eine starke Abgrenzung und
Differenzierung zwischen dem Raum der Rinder und
dem der Menschen, einem ökologischen und sozialen
Raum, statt.
Unabdingbar für die Wodaabe ist ihre Mobilität. Die
hohe Mobilität des Haushaltes und der Herde sind für
den Autor zugleich Prinzip und Garant einer erfolgrei-
chen Tierhaltung (Kap. 3). Das zentrale Element ist das
Ziehen von Weide zu Weide sowie die Begrenzung der
Verweildauer. Von großem Belang sind die räumliche
Organisation des Haushalts, der Rinderstellplatz und die
Kälberleine. Nun erklärt sich auch der Titel der Publi-
kation: “Westlich der Kälberleine”. An diese Leine, die
zwischen zwei Pflöcken in Nord-Süd Richtung gespannt
wird, werden die Kälber angebunden. Sie ist jedoch
weit mehr als nur eine Leine, sie besitzt einen hohen
symbolischen Wert. Sie trennt zugleich das Lager in
zwei Bereiche: eine westliche, männliche Hälfte, die
326
Rezensionen
sich mehr auf die Herde bezieht, und eine östliche,
häusliche, weibliche Hälfte, die sich eher auf die Familie
bezieht. Eine räumliche Konzeption, die zugleich auf die
gesellschaftlichen Beziehungen innerhalb des Haushal-
tes übertragen werden kann. So werden beispielsweise
an der Leine die Kälber nach ihrem Alter festgebunden:
die ältesten im Süden. Ein Nord-Süd-Prinzip der Senio-
rität, das auch für die agnatische Verwandtschaftsgruppe
zählt: der verheiratete Sohn platziert sein Lager nördlich
dem des Vaters.
Schareika unterscheidet drei verschiedene Formen
der Weidewanderung: 1. die historische Migration, 2. die
saisonale Wanderung zwischen den ökologischen Zonen
und 3. der Wechsel der Weiden innerhalb dieser ökolo-
gischen Zone. Als letzte historische Migration wird die
Wanderung in den Südostniger gesehen (Kap. 4).
Das bemerkenswerte Umweltwissen und eine Weide-
wanderung im Verlauf der Jahreszeiten werden sehr ein-
drücklich in 5. Kapitel beschrieben, indem der Autor den
Leser auf solch eine saisonale Weidewanderung, eine
West-Ost Wanderung (Regen-, Trockenzeit), gewisser-
maßen mitnimmt. Offenkundig wird, dass die Wodaabe
ihre Umwelt primär als Viehhalter begreifen, dass sie
alles in Relation zu den Zielen ihrer Tierhaltung setzten.
Die Nutzbarkeit der Bäume und Gräser als Nahrungsres-
sourcen für die Tiere sahen alle Befragten als das ent-
scheidende Kriterium an. Um die Tiere auf eine optimale
Weide führen zu können, sind präzise Naturbeobachtun-
gen notwendig. Die Wodaabe begreifen die jahreszeitli-
chen Veränderungen der ökologischen Situation primär
als ein vom Raum abhängiges Phänomen. Der Übergang
von Frische- zur Trockenphase wird als ein fundamen-
taler Wandel gesehen, womit sich zugleich die tierhalte-
rischen Ziele ändern. Es ist die Zeit, in der auch Bilanz
gezogen wird. Erfolg wird nicht nur in der ausreichen-
den Bereitstellung von Nahrung gesehen, ebenso wird
die körperliche Verfassung der Rinder beurteilt. Und so
ist der Vergleich der Tiere ein bestimmendes Thema auf
den großen Lineage-Treffen am Ende der Regenzeit.
Obwohl Dürrejahre die Existenz der Wodaabe bedro-
hen, hebt der Autor zu Recht hervor, dass Krisen nicht
immer auf externen Bedingungen beruhen sondern eben-
so auf unrichtigen tierhalterischen Entscheidungen in
Verbindung mit ungünstigen klimatischen Bedingungen.
Im Abschlusskapitel wird die Veränderung des Büschs
seit der Migration in das untersuchte Gebiet geschildert.
Aufgeführt werden zahlreiche Aussagen, die eine Ent-
wicklung zum Schlechteren hin beschreiben: weniger
Niederschläge, Rückgang des Tschadsees (Tränke der
Rinder in der Trockenzeit), Rückgang von Futtergräsern
oder die Konkurrenz mit der bäuerlichen Bevölkerung
und den Viehherden anderer Ethnien.
In diesem Kontext kann auch die Frage nach der
Zukunft dieser Wirtschaftsform gestellt werden. Kommt
es bei der untersuchten Gruppe ebenso zu einer tem-
porären Migration in die urbanen Zentren, wie Elisabeth
Boesen in ihrer Arbeit über die Wodaabe Zentral-Nigers
berichtet (2004)? Schareika geht in seiner Untersuchung
auf diese Frage nicht genauer ein. Seine fundierte Un-
tersuchung belegt aber, dass die Wodaabe mit ihrem
Lebensraum eine besondere Mensch-Umwelt-Beziehung
verbindet, einen Raum, den sie weder als karg, bedroh-
lich, hart oder wenig fruchtbar empfinden. Ihr umfassen-
des Wissen über das komplizierte Ökosystem mit seinen
zahlreichen ökologischen Prozessen werde, und dies ist
ein entscheidender Punkt, in einer sich wandelnden Um-
welt von den Wodaabe modifiziert und weiterentwickelt.
Man verfügt über äußerst erfolgreiche Strategien in der
Nutzung des ökologischen Raumes, wozu die zyklische
Herdenführung, die Mobilität der Herden und Haushalte,
die das ganze gesellschaftliche Leben bestimmen, sowie
eine optimale und zugleich schonende Ausnutzung der
ökologischen Bedingungen in Hinblick auf eine opti-
male Ernährung der Rinder gehören. So ergänzen sich
eine qualifizierte Herdenführung mit umfassenden na-
turkundlichen Kenntnissen zu einer vom Autor anschau-
lich geschilderten Gesamtkonzeption, wobei jedoch die
Behandlung der Frage, wie und an wen dieses Wissen
tradiert wird, etwas ausführlicher hätte sein können.
Schareika ist eine außerordentlich fundierte Arbeit
gelungen, die nicht nur wirtschaftsethnologisch sondern
ebenso ethnobotanisch von großem Interesse ist, trotz
der ethnographischen Beschränkung der Arbeit, die sich
aus seinem methodischen Ansatz ergibt, wie er selbst
betont. Deutlich herausgearbeitet wurde das umfassende
naturbezogene Wissen der Wodaabe. Sehr gelungen und
informativ erscheint die Form der Wiedergabe mit den
ausgewählten Zitaten, die, nicht zuletzt auch aufgrund
einer Transparenz der aufgenommenen Daten wegen, so
der Autor, gewählt wurde. Ebenso gelungen ist seine
Intention, den Leser gewissermaßen auf eine Weidewan-
derung der Wodaabe mitzunehmen. Sehr gründlich und
detailliert sind ebenso der umfangreiche Anhang und das
thematische Glossar. Andreas Volz
Seligmann, Linda J.: Peruvian Street Lives. Cul-
ture, Power, and Economy among Market Women
of Cuzco. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2004-
249 pp. ISBN 0-252-07167-0. Price: $20.00
Seligmann writes about the lives of market women
as they are shaped by as well as shaping the market-
Her locations are the markets of Cuzco, Peru, which as
she states, “resemble many others around the world” (!)•
Indeed, readers familiar with “The World of Sofia W'
lasquez” (H. Buechler and J.-M. Buechler; New York
1996), a market woman of Bolivia, will discover famiHal
themes and issues. And the commonalities do not just
extend to other South American countries as G. Clark s
“Onions Are My Husband” (Chicago 1994), a study 0
market women in Ghana, demonstrates.
This book focuses on relationships: between the
market women themselves, with their suppliers an
their customers, their families and their communitieS
in general. Seligmann also pays much attention to the
obvious but frequently ignored issue of spatial relation^
Shirley Ardener (Women and Space. Oxford 1981) ha ^
pioneered the topic of women and space early on b
few, at least in anthropology, followed suit. Seligmann -
observations and comments are, therefore, esped
ally
Anthropos 101
,2006
Rezensionen
327
valuable. She highlights the heightened sensitivity that
Andean people bring to this issue due to the specific
topography of their environment. According to her, this
ability “to use space to advantage rather than being
constrained by it” (29) also informs the strategies of the
market women. For this very reason it would actually
have been beneficial to have maps or at least a map of
the central market of Cuzco included.
The author draws on a broad basis of data: interviews
with vendors, wholesalers, lenders, government officials,
NGO personnel, tax collectors, and bank loan officers.
She has spent countless hours at markets, both in urban
and rural areas, and attended fiestas in which vendors
participate. Both traditional as well as new Evangelical
belief systems and practices are addressed as they affect
the activities of these women. These types of data are
supplemented with information from archival records
which Seligmann also discussed with her informants,
a strategy that aids a more informed understanding.
Helpful, especially to novice fieldworkers, should be her
°pen discussion of the difficulties to find interviewees
due to the busy schedules of her informants and the
vendors’ mistrust towards “officials,” real or imagined.
Throughout the book she uses what she calls “vi-
gnettes,” personal accounts, both from vendors and her
own field journals. This is done very effectively in some
°f the discussions on how race and class affect relations
between vendors and customers (cf. ch. 7 and 8). The
nurnerous photos also help the reader to enter the world
°f the people who work in the Cuzco markets.
As is known from other locations (cf. Buechler and
^uechler 1996 for Bolivia; Clark 1994 for Ghana; Wat-
S°n-Franke 1967-87 [Fieldnotes on Wayuu, Venezuela]),
fhe market women from Cuzco have not infrequently
difficulties with government officials and the police. Yet,
°n the local level, especially wholesalers who control
,Tl0re capital than the informal or regular retail vendor
§et involved in local politics holding offices and playing
eading roles in religious fiestas by acting as sponsors.
One issue that is a central concern to market women
Worldwide is the interplay of reciprocity and compe-
ltion. Right at the beginning of her book, Seligmann
Glares that there is a “lack of competition between
Vendors” (3), however, throughout the text one actually
^tties across numerous examples stating the opposite.
116 ideal is obviously cooperation. But as countless
^ases indicate, this can obviously only be approximated
y upholding an ideology idealizing actual relationships
^ud rules and regulations. Apart from such tensions
^utween the vendors themselves, the market women
Ce challenges from producers, wholesalers, and those
rking in transport, each defending their rather specific
eeds and interests.
det^* §reat interest to many readers will also be the
aiicd discussion of loan and credit arrangements (cf.
in.6h Various sources of credit are available: informal,
Wtdually arranged loans; credit from wholesalers;
•tal 1ClPatt°n in rotating credit associations; startup cap-
fin *r°m NGOsi anc* ^an^ i°ans- The information on
ancial matters, as Seligmann found out, is, not sur-
prisingly, difficult to obtain and statistics seem to be
quite vague. Still, we get some idea when we learn that
only 3-10% of the women are able to borrow from
banks (113).
The book describes the successes and the difficulties,
market women face be that intervention by municipal
officials, prejudice from middle-class customers, or even
harsh criticism from the priest. Seligmann dedicates
a whole chapter (ch. 9) to the role of religion in
the vendors’ lives. She gives a thorough but also
colorful and entertaining description and analysis of the
relationships interlinking women’s lives in the market
with their roles in the fiestas.
“Peruvian Street Lives” shows the dilemma of strong
women occupying public space when they should sit
demurely at home, and it addresses the tension between
the indigenous woman versus the mestiza, though these
lines are blurred in the market making the situation even
more complex. At the same time this account like others
makes clear that market women know their place and
they define it as one not only of survival but also of
power.
This book will be of interest to readers concerned
with women’s lives in South America, but equally so
to those who want to learn more about market women
around the world. Maria-Barbara Watson-Franke
Stelzig, Christine: Afrika am Museum für Völker-
kunde zu Berlin 1873-1919. Aneignung, Darstellung
und Konstruktion eines Kontinents. Herbolzheim: Cen-
taurus Verlag, 2004. 450 pp. ISBN 3-8255-0399-2. Preis:
€31,90
“Jedes Museum ist eine Bühne”, so führt Christine
Stelzig ihr Sujet ein, die “von verschiedenen Regisseu-
ren zu verschiedenen Zeiten mit unterschiedlichen Insze-
nierungen bespielt” wird (9). Die Bühne, um die es sich
hier handelt, ist das Berliner Museum für Völkerkunde
und die Regisseure sind die ersten drei Kuratoren seiner
Afrika-Abteilung: Adolf Bastian, Felix von Luschan und
Bernhard Ankermann. Ihr museales Wirken stellt den
zeitlichen Rahmen der zu besprechenden “Inszenierun-
gen” dar; In vorliegender Arbeit beginnen diese im Jahre
1873 mit der Gründung des Museums und enden 1919
mit dem Ausschluss Deutschlands aus der Reihe der
Kolonialmächte, der dem Ende der Amtszeit des dritten
Kurators um wenige Jahre vorausgeht.
Dieser Zeitraum umfasst die klassische Zeit des
Sammelns. Der afrikanische Kontinent wurde erstmals
weiträumig durchreist und die Befürchtung des “Ver-
schwindens der Naturvölker” noch vor der “Sicherung”
ihrer materiellen Kultur legitimierte das rigorose Sam-
meln und Heraustragen aus dem Kontinent. Das Berliner
Museum ist nicht nur eines der ältesten, sondern auch
das größte seiner Art in Deutschland. Die Afrika-Ab-
teilung umfasst 70.000 bzw. heute 75.000 Objekte, eine
beachtliche Sammlung von Fotografien und eine um-
fangreiche Korrespondenz der Museumsleitung mit den
Forschern. Der überwiegend größte Teil dieser Objek-
te stammt aus dieser klassischen Zeit des Sammelns.
^nth
roPos 101.2006
328
Rezensionen
Nach 1920 gelangten vergleichsweise wenige neue Ge-
genstände in die Sammlung. Die “Bühne” des Muse-
ums wurde freilich weiter bespielt, und in den 1990er
Jahren hatte die Autorin selbst eine nicht unbedeutende
kleine Nebenrolle auf ihr, während der die vorliegende
Veröffentlichung als Dissertation entstand.
Mit der Sammlungsgeschichte der Abteilung Afrika
wurde Christine Stelzig im Rahmen eines von der Volks-
wagen-Stiftung geförderten Projekts zur Erschließung
des schriftlichen Archivbestands der Afrika-Abteilung
bekannt, in dem sie die Korrespondenz zwischen den
Kuratoren und den Sammlern der Ethnographica für
das Museum bearbeitete. Fasziniert war die Autorin
von der Frage, welche Motivationen und Denkweisen
diese Briefe hervorbrachten, was die Kuratoren mit der
Sammlung beabsichtigten und wie sie damit das Afri-
kabild in Deutschland formten. Also untersuchte Chris-
tine Stelzig die Korrespondenz systematisch nach drei
Fragestellungen: 1. Nach welchen Vorgaben sammelte
man und eignete sich die materielle Kultur an? Wurde
alles gesammelt, was zu finden war? 2. In welcher Form
unterrichteten die Kuratoren die Öffentlichkeit über die
eintreffenden Ethnographica? 3. Welche Ziele verfolgten
sie mit dem Sammeln und welches Bild vermittelten die
Sammlungen und Ausstellungen von dem afrikanischen
Kontinent?
Christine Stelzig versteht ihre Arbeit als einen Bei-
trag zur Museums- und Sammlungsgeschichte. Stelzig
moniert, es seien bislang zu diesem Thema nur Wer-
ke zur Bedeutung der materiellen Kultur afrikanischer
Völker, zur Geschichte der Museen, Bestandskataloge,
Objektbiografien verfasst worden sowie Abhandlungen
über Museumsgründer, Mitarbeiter und Mäzene, die
eher im Stile enzyklopädischer Aufzählungen geschrie-
ben seien, und keine historischen Arbeiten: “Eine histo-
rische Untersuchung, die einzig und allein die museale
Auseinandersetzung mit ‘nur’ einer außereuropäischen
Region thematisiert, stellt”, so Stelzig, “hinsichtlich der
Völkerkundemuseen im deutschsprachigen Raum jedoch
noch immer ein Novum dar” (29). Eediglich Bettina von
Briskorn habe eine vergleichbare Untersuchung über das
Überseemuseum Bremen und dessen Auswahlkriterien
für Objekte aus Afrika verfasst.
Ihre nun gedruckt vorliegende Dissertation umfasst
neben einem Vorwort sechs auffallend ungleich lange
Kapitel, gefolgt von Anhängen zum statistischen Samm-
lungszuwachs, einer Karte zur Aufteilung der Afrika-
Sammlung nach Regionen, einem Verzeichnis der be-
deutendsten Mitarbeiter jener Zeit, einer Eiste von ange-
fertigten Museumsführern, dem Literaturverzeichnis und
einem knappen Index. Ein Abbildungsverzeichnis habe
ich nicht gefunden. Das ansprechend gestaltete Cover
zeigt die drei genannten regieführenden Kuratoren im
Porträt zusammen mit drei kunstvoll beschnitzten Ob-
jekten aus den Sammlungen zum Kameruner Grasland.
Nachdem die Autorin im ersten Kapitel den kon-
zeptionellen Rahmen der Untersuchung abgesteckt hat,
stellt sie im zweiten Kapitel den zu bearbeiteten Zeit-
raum und die Entstehungs- und Baugeschichte des Mu-
seums in seinem lokalen historischen und weltgeschicht-
lichen Kontext vor. Hierfür analysierte sie u. a. sämtli-
che Erwerbsbücher des Museums, um die quantitative
Bedeutung Afrikas für das Museum insgesamt zu be-
legen. Die Sonderstellung des Berliner Museums für
Völkerkunde zeigt sich darin, dass es 1889, nachdem
Deutschland seine ersten Schutzgebiete bekommen hat-
te, durch einen Bundesratsbeschluss das Monopol auf
alle mit Bundesmitteln aus diesen Gebieten erworbenen
Sammlungen erhielt (30).
Das dritte Kapitel stellt die drei Kuratoren vor: ihren
Berufsweg, ihre Arbeit am Museum und ihren Bezug
zu Afrika. Alles begann damit, dass Adolf Bastian 1868
die Berliner Gesellschaft für Anthropologie, Ethnolo-
gie und Urgeschichte gründete und später, 1873, das
Museum für Völkerkunde zu Berlin. 1899 wurde er
bekanntlich zum ersten ordentlichen Honorarprofessor
für Ethnologie berufen. Adolf Bastian, als “visionärer
Weltenbummler” charakterisiert (59), war Kurator von
1873 bis 1885. Sein Ziel war die Anhäufung von Mu-
seumsstücken, ihre wissenschaftliche Bearbeitung stand
im Hintergrund. Zur Eröffnung des Museums 1886 plat-
zierte er 10.000 Objekte aus Afrika in 29 Schränke.
Der Betrachter sollte sich auf die Objekte konzentrieren
und die Inhalte der Schränke vergleichen. Auf jeden
Fall sollte eine Ähnlichkeit mit einem Kuriositäten-
kabinett vermieden werden (54). Felix von Luschan,
“der kunstsinnige Manager” (82) und Vertreter paralleler
kultureller Entwicklungen, hatte den ersten Lehrstuhl
für Anthropologie inne und war Kurator der Abteilung
Afrika von 1885 bis 1910. Er erwarb Benin-Bronzen für
das Museum, war bekannt durch seine Ausgrabungen in
Anatolien und reiste immer in Begleitung seiner Frau.
Von Luschans Ziel war es, das Berliner Museum zur
weltweit größten Sammlung ethnographischer Objekte
zu machen. Sein Nachfolger, der “bescheidene Erbe”
(121) Bernhard Ankermann, leitete die Afrika-Abtei-
lung von 1911 bis 1924. Er war Mitbegründer der
Kulturkreislehre, kam jedoch erst spät zur Wissenschaft
und stand zeitlebens im Schatten seiner Vorgänger und
Kollegen, u. a. da er nur wenige seiner theoretischen
Erkenntnisse schriftlich niederlegte. Ankermann war der
erste Wissenschaftler des Museums, der direkt zur Sani'
mel- und Forschungsreise nach Afrika gesandt wurde.
Im vierten Kapitel analysiert Christine Stelzig die
Sammlungstätigkeit der drei Kuratoren hinsichtlich ihrer
Interessen und Vorlieben. Hierfür untersucht sie “das
Genre der Anleitungen zum Beobachten und Sammeln
(31) der jeweiligen Kuratoren. Diese Anleitungen stell'
ten “bis in die erste Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts • • •
den einzig offiziellen, wissenschaftlich sanktionierten
Fragenkatalog in Deutschland dar, mit dessen Hifte
Weltenbummler und Geschäftsreisende, Missionare unn
Kolonialbeamte im Schnellverfahren zum Ethnographen
ausgebildet werden sollten”, so die Autorin (31 f.).
Kapitel 5 ist mit 140 Seiten das bei weitem längst
Kapitel. Es widmet sich der Unterrichtung der Offen1'
lichkeit über das Eintreffen der Ethnographica nn
die hierfür gewählte Darstellungsform in den vorhan
denen Museumsführern, museumseigenen Zeitschrift611'
Veröffentlichungen zu Kolonialausstellungen, Sitzung5
101.20°6
Anthropos
Rezensionen
329
und Rechenschaftsberichten des Museums. Ein weite-
res spannendes Untersuchungsfeld wäre die Präsentation
der Ethnographica selbst gewesen, wobei das größte
Hindernis hierfür die kaum existierenden Angaben zu
Ausstellungsformen darstellten.
Ein kurzes Kapitel 6 kontextualisiert die Ergebnisse
der Arbeit im allgemeinen Rahmen der Entwicklung des
Faches Ethnologie in Deutschland, das zu jener Zeit
noch mit der Begrifflichkeit und Klassifikation seines
Gegenstandes zu kämpfen hatte, und begreift die Sam-
niel- und Ausstellungstätigkeit des Museums als Teil der
europäischen Selbstdarstellung und Rechtfertigung der
Ausbeutung der Kolonien.
In dieser materialreichen und informativen Muse-
ums- und Sammlungsgeschichte kommen die Kurato-
ren nicht nur in Kapitelüberschriften zu Wort, sondern
auch in zahlreichen, sorgfältig ausgewählten Zitaten.
Hierdurch kommt Gewichtiges von ihrem Wollen, ihren
Absichten und Gedankengängen im Vokabular der Zeit
zum Ausdruck. In heutigen Ohren klingt es zweifellos
makaber, wenn zum Beispiel von Luschan in seiner
Sammlungsanleitung empfiehlt, man solle nie versäum-
em “größere Hautstücke mit Ziernarben für die Näch-
st zu retten”, sowie zahlreiche “künstlich deformierte
Lippen, in Alkohol eingelegte oder anderweitig kon-
servierte Penisse” und “ganze, kopfnah abgeschnittene
Laartrachten”, “möglichst große Serien von Schädeln”,
uud “thunlichst vollständige Skelette (es genügt ober-
flächliche Reinigung)” (169). Diese Zitate illustrieren
Am subtile Kritik der Autorin am Aneignungswillen
fl£r Abteilungsleiter des Museums, der im Verlauf des
°andes zu Recht immer wieder problematisiert und an-
§eprangert wird. Ute Röschenthaler
Tall, Aminatou: Das Frobenius-Institut unter Eike
Laberland. Marburg: Tectum Verlag, 2005. 88 pp., CD-
H°M. ISBN 3-8288-5187-8. Price: €37,00
Considering the number of his critics and rivals, it
c°mes as something of a surprise to find a predomi-
nantly positive, albeit relatively short (88-page) study of
e Frobenius-Institut (Frankfurt am Main) under Eike
aberland, its director from 1967 until his death in
, It is based on an M. A. thesis written in Frankfurt
°rily after Haberland’s death by a Senegalese student,
minatou Tall. Given the limited time allowed for the
^filing 0f such a thesis (6 months), Tall deserves to
i C(mgratulated upon this initial study, upon which
^Jture scholars will hopefully build. Although she did
sid ^now Haberland personally, she assembled a con-
c er&ble amount of material written by or about him,
the ^^ernentinS L WFF interviews she conducted with
j^e historian Joseph Ki-Zerbo and several scholars in
to ar- As one might expect, particular emphasis is given
fr 116 ways in which Haberland adhered to or diverged
Leo Frobenius, to Frobenius’s importance for the
the^ritU^e” niovement, and to Haberland’s response to
^filings of Cheikh Anta Diop.
uMi
^Ler a brief review of the history of the institute
er Frobenius, Adolf Ellegard Jensen, and C. A.
Whr°Pos 101.2006
Schmitz we are offered a review of Haberland’s decision
to focus the institute’s work solely upon Africa (rather
than the ethnology of the whole world), of his own
research in Ethiopia in the 1960s and 1970s, and of
his shift to Burkina Faso in the 1980s. But he was
less important as a scholar than as a manager of
diverse documentation projects conducted by younger
people, especially on African mud architecture, pottery,
archaeology, and material culture in general. A few
projects were quietly abandoned during his lifetime,
notably the attempted continuation of the “Atlas Afri-
canus” begun by Frobenius. Others, such as Beatrix
Heintze’s work on early Portuguese sources concerning
Angola, were tolerated rather than actively supported
by Haberland. But he certainly succeeded in stimulating
research of a kind that was unpopular elsewhere.
Reading between the lines of this study, it is easy
to detect contradictions in Haberland’s own statements
and to see how changing circumstances obliged him to
modify some of his ideas. Tall tends to accept rather
easily Haberland’s own version of what happened, rather
than searching for supplementary sources outside the
institute. But it is a moving tribute, reminding us of
something today’s wiz-kids often forget: that whilst our
thinking about Africa tends to age very quickly (then as
now), solid research is impossible without painstaking
documentation. Adam Jones
Voell, Stéphane: Das nordalbanische Gewohnheits-
recht und seine mündliche Dimension. Marburg; Curu-
pira, 2004. 365 pp. ISBN 3-8185-0395-8. Preis: € 20,00
This book deals with the general question of what
happened in the countries of Eastern Europe after 1989.
Countries like Albania, and others, are generally de-
clared to be “post-socialist,” implying that either, so-
cialism has been overcome and something “new,” most
often classified as “democracy” has been implemented,
or the country has fallen into the dark ages of so-called
“traditions.” In this way, S. Voell’s book is a very
valuable contribution to the ethnography of so-called
post-socialist countries that justifies a more refined look
at the realities of these Eastern European countries.
In particular the book is about the kanun, that is
the customary law, that was practiced traditionally in
northern Albania, had been oppressed during the social-
ist regime of Enver Hoxha, and has resurfaced during
the difficult political and social restructuring of Albania
after 1991. Voell reports that the kanun is discussed by
his informants as an “Albanian identifier,” that what
makes Albania what it is, coined by its people, social
structure, and topography; others discuss the kanun as
dangerous antistructure to law and social integrity, es-
pecially in respect to blood revenge. Voell discusses this
in detail, but I was surprised that Chr. Boehm’s “Blood
Revenge: The Anthropology of Feuding in Montenegro
and Other Tribal Societies” (Lawrence 1984) did not
find entry in any of Voell’s discussion. It would have
been an interesting ethnography for Voell to compare
his material to.
330
Rezensionen
In this respect, I did miss some central East European
ethnographies Voell’s general thesis would have gained
from, such as Todorova’s “Imagining the Balkans,”
Humphrey’s or Verdery’s ethnographies, or Burawoy’s
“Uncertain Tradition.” Instead, Voell relies, maybe to
heavily, on discussing the work of his two Ph. D. super-
visors Miinzel and Krasberg. In addition, his discussion
of the kanun as habitus and the ensuing discussion of
the habitus-idiom by Bourdieu reads more like a univer-
sity paper and is limited. That does not mean that his
discussion of the kanun as habitus is not very interesting
and persuading and certainly adds to the understanding
of orality in anthropology. He neglects the historical and
societal perspective of the kanun in this book in order
to discuss solely the issue of orality and social change.
I recommend reading other works of Voell for a fuller
understanding of the historicity of the kanun.
In this book, he stresses that the habitus concept of
Bourdieu invites itself to explain the kanun arriving from
the dynamic relationship of the specific socioeconomic
conditions of society and the individual within. Through
socialization, the kanun derives meaning that could not
be understood if it would be seen as a document. The
kanun is a living dynamic law that could not be under-
stood as a contract or code. Voell’s main point lies in this
“living dynamic” since it explains why the kanun still
exists today in northern Albania despite the repressive
politics of the socialist system that had intended to erase
“tradition” from living memory. Voell’s discussion of
the socialist system as trying to change tradition but in
turn actually strengthening those traditions by its own
political creation is most interesting. His introduction,
comparing the pyramid structure of the National Cultural
Centre in Tirana with the traditional pyramid structure
of the Albanian household, being topped by the fis, the
group that derives its origin from a common ancestor,
and Enver Hoxha’s political structure, with him at top
of a pyramid, shows very powerfully how social change
is implemented on old structures that are supposed to
be toppled. The dynamic of this contradiction explains
social change in more detail than simply assuming that
“old” replaces “new.” Anthony Cohen’s work comes
to mind, especially “The Symbolic Construction of
Community.” After 1991, Voell insists, the underlying
structure of the kanun continues to exist whereas most
political structures have not proven to be viable in the
recent political upheaval in Albania.
Voell explains the kanun as based on specific values:
besa, which is honour, and other normative social rules
that anybody knows in northern Albania. As such the
kanun gives societal guidelines on how to treat guests,
whom to marry, and so on. As such, Voell introduces the
kanun as a very broad guideline that directs hospitality,
inheritance, or even agriculture and as a specific norm
in respect to what is seen as lawful. He stresses that
this does not lead to abstract law but a general sense of
justice. The kanun understood in both its broad as well
as specific application still exists in northern Albania.
However, Voell is saying that in most literature the ka-
nun is only portrayed in its restricted sense, and Voell is
stressing that, as such, the kanun as traditional law is not
practiced anymore. The kanun needs to be understood
as habitus, however, and it is this that Voell proposes.
What I was missing in Voell’s discussion of the
orality of the kanun was an ethnography of orality, that
is, the actual words of his informants of how the kanun
was talked about. His discussion on orality is a very
literary abstract discussion and is lacking the depth that
one is used to from anthropological ethnographies. This
is especially significant in a discussion on orality.
I was disappointed with the editing of VoelTs book.
There are several spelling mistakes in the book that
just should have been caught by the editor, such as the
misspelling of “Bourdieu” as “Bourdie” (74), “Bruiider"
(159), or “analysirt” (150), another author’s name as
Schwandner(-Sievers) (215) and a time span given as:
1977-1933 (41).
In his discussion of the “pyramid-structure,” other
ethnographies of the area would have been very infor-
mative and his work would have benefited from a discus-
sion on religion, since one would suspect that the habitus
of the kanun Voell is talking about and religion would
have been related in its relationship to socialism and in
today’s Albania. One major flaw of Voell’s discussion is
that many of his statements on the kanun and its practice
are missing ethnographic context and his heavy reliance
on other people’s published materials instead of on his
own ethnographic research. However, Voell’s book is a
very insightful discussion on an area of Eastern Europe
that is still far too little under investigation. I am looking
forward to learning more from Voell in the future. I can
recommend his book to anybody who is interested in
Albania and social change in Eastern Europe after 1990-
Ilka Thiessen
Williamson, Margaret Holmes: Powhatan Lords of
Life and Death. Command and Consent in Seventeenth'
Century Virginia. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,
2003. 323 pp. ISBN 0-8032-4798-2. Price; £42.95
This is a rather ambitious revisionist ethnohistoi)
of the Powhatan confederation of seventeenth-century
Virginia. Based on her B. Litt. thesis of 1972 at Oxfonj
University, Williamson’s reconsideration of histories
data has been inspired by subsequent fieldwork among
the Kwoma of Papua New Guinea and her engagerne'11
with structuralist theory. As Americanist ethnohis10'
ry is surely not overburdened with theoretical refleC'
tion, Williamson’s interesting endeavor definitely mei'lts
close attention. ,
Her theoretical approach and main goals are lal
out in detail in the introduction. Williamson argu6S
that previous interpretations of Powhatan society havS
suffered from a Eurocentric reading of the source8,
which are quite plentiful, and calls for interpretati^
of the documentary record against the background 0
contemporary European ideas from politics and theology
and a holistic analysis of Powhatan culture and p°ldlC^
structure from an emic perspective in order to arrive
a correct interpretation. This is undoubtedly correct,
Anthropos 101
2 0$
Rezensionen
331
sounds a bit like selling commonplace historical method-
ology as a revolutionary new approach to the past. Put
into practice, this approach means to Williamson that
the form of dual sovereignty Williamson is assuming
must be related to other examples of a set of dual
categories or oppositions in the cultural whole in order
to be validated. She is confident that by following this
procedure her analysis “is probably correct because it
provides an explanation for everything that we know that
they did, and, moreover, it establishes logical kinds of
relationships among all those things” (8). Williamson’s
main interest lies with the explanation of the Powhatans’
notion of politics, which she explains with reference to
the key opposition of authority and power.
Before specifically addressing this subject in more
detail, Williamson presents an overview of Powhatan
ethnography and colonial history. In chapter 3 (Kings
and Councilors in Tidewater Virginia) she then begins
to unravel the native dyarchic system with regard to
civil leaders in Powhatan society. Here, she identifies the
'werowance” (who is called “king” in the contemporary
sources), the embodiment of his polity, as representative
°f authority, while his complementary subordinate, the
cockarouse,” represents power and acts as executive
force of the “werowance”’s decisions. Much the same
°Pposition can be found in the analysis of the two differ-
ent types of religious practitioners, the “priest” and the
conjuror,” undertaken in chapter 4. In the fifth chapter
^ual Sovereignty in Tidewater Virginia), Williamson
finally outlines her understanding of the general prin-
ClPle of dyarchy, which consists of the opposition of
Spiritual authority and mundane power. This principle is
n°t confined to political structure but must be seen as an
Expression of the “totality of symbolic classification in
Powhatan culture” (206). In order to illustrate the holis-
fic nature of dyarchy, a long list of symbolic oppositions
18 cited, including masculinity-femininity, west-east,
fi'e elevated-the nether, the right hand-the left hand,
desiccation-moisture, and, ultimately, death-life. The
relevance of these fundamental classifying principles
111 all realms of culture is then further elaborated by
Presenting a plethora of details from gender symbolism
an element of a wider moral topography of the world,
r°m the wet-dry opposition in the fields of cuisine,
caring, and sacrifice, and from color classification.
^ In conclusion of this presentation of examples,
nliamson stresses once again the dualistic nature of
^.e Powhatan worldview where any pair of entities
'splayed the same structure: the superior was always
6 authority and was more spiritual, more masculine,
n physically higher than the subordinate who was the
■ wer, the more mundane, the more feminine, and phys-
^fiy lower. Social hierarchy was only one expression
this fundamental notion, one way to be in harmony
tfie u cosmos- In fi16 overaH structure of oppositions,
chief’ and the “shaman” occupied an intermediate
stfion, ensuring order.
fo wfifi anY kind °f structuralist analysis, such ef-
ij.rts at categorization are much more easily appreciated
0r,e is sympathetic to the premises of structuralist
Vnthn
°pos 101.2006
thinking in general. To the skeptical reader Williamson’s
effort to analyze the whole of Powhatan culture in terms
of oppositional pairs may seem a bit farfetched, and a
certain amount of doubt cannot be dispelled if all of
these details of the indigenous worldview can indeed
be derived from the sources and are not to some ex-
tent the result of speculation on the author’s part. This
skepticism even increases when Williamson argues in
her final thoughts for the recognition of authority and
power, as “qualities with different functions, obligations,
and rights” (260), as a basic structure of all social
systems which would revolutionize the study of society.
Yet despite such reservations about some aspects of her
theoretical approach, Williamson deserves applause for
her valiant effort to interpret the historical record of
Powhatan culture within a rigid theoretical framework.
One may not agree with all the details of her analysis
and with the broad generalization of her conclusions,
but she has definitely brought some fresh insights to
the ethnohistory of early colonial Virginia which make
thoroughly interesting reading. Ingo W. Schroder
Wolf, Eric R.: Pathways of Power. Building an An-
thropology of the Modern World. With Sydel Silverman.
Foreword by Aram A. Yengoyan. Berkeley: University
of California Press, 2001. 463 pp. ISBN 0-520-22334-9.
Price: $ 24.95
There is no excuse for but one advantage to being a
late reviewer: time passed may clear up situations from
minor or said to be major elements. This is clearly the
fact in reviewing the collection of articles by Eric Wolf
published two years after his death. In these days when
hardly a paper or even paragraph can do without the
attribute globalized, when identities are at least multiple,
when after the fact the world is in pieces, when after the
linguistic turn and the ethnographic turn and many other
turns we are still waiting for the turning turn it does good
to read serious work. And when it is fashionable to talk
about deconstruction, while Gadamer wanted already to
call it destruction but found that too destructive, and a
conscious use of analysis would have done in most cases
it does good to read and reread essays composed under
the criteria of integrity and responsibility. And in view
of the squabbles about the many sub-anthropologies and
about the “right” name for them it is good to remember
Eric Wolf’s warning “They divide and divide and call it
anthropology.”
The present volume consists of 28 articles and, as
introduction, “An Intellectual Autobiography” by Eric
Wolf plus a helpful and sympathetic foreword by Aram
Yengoyan: “Culture and Power in the Writings of Eric R.
Wolf.” All articles are briefly introduced by Eric Wolf
as part of the editorial work which was then finished
by Sydel Silverman. The period of publication of the
articles stretches over a period of half a century, starting
with the less well-known contribution on “The Social
Organization of Mecca and the Origins of Islam” of
1951, written, as Wolf says, as an intellectual vacation
while writing his Ph.D. thesis. All elements of Wolf’s in-
332
Rezensionen
terest and later writings appear in this article, economic
circumstances, the role of kinship and power, and ide-
ology and religion. And never in his whole work would
he think of these fields without demonstrating their
processual character and their historical interrelatedness.
Thus, in the article on “American Anthropologists and
American Society” (1969), which is thematically very
close to Eric Wolfs small and still important book
“Anthropology” (Englewood Cliffs 1964), he turns away
from a history of anthropology as sheer history of ideas
and regards ideas, theories, and fields of interest as
closely interrelated with American economic and social
history, interwoven with history in general.
The articles are not arranged chronologically, but
under four major themes; Anthropology, Connections,
Peasants, and Concepts. In the first part, one finds be-
sides the just mentioned article the contribution on A. L.
Kroeber, one of the lectures held at the City University
of New York in 1976, when the central administration of
the university wanted to skip anthropology. This series
of lectures brought about a general revival of anthro-
pology in the United States. This part also contains the
hitherto unpublished lecture “On Fieldwork and Theo-
ry,” a most compact view of anthropology, as well as his
last published lecture, held in the Frankfurt Paulskirche
in September 1998, in which Eric Wolf takes up again
the theme so important to him, power, in “Anthropology
among the Powers.”
It is obvious that power plays a central role in the
articles which are included in the other three parts.
This holds true for the early (1958) contribution on the
Virgin of Guadalupe as Mexican national symbol, which
belongs to the period when Wolf wrote his first widely
read book “Sons of the Shaking Earth” (Chicago 1959).
“Closed Corporate Peasant Communities in Mesoameri-
ca and Central Java” with its reexamination a quarter of
a century later (1986) demonstrates not only the out-
standing analytical power of Eric Wolf but also the
awareness of shortcomings in the first article caused
mainly by insufficient data and the necessity to get rid
of these shortcomings. These articles demonstrate nicely
Wolfs conviction “that anthropology is a cumulative
enterprise, that new work should build on that which
came before, whether to develop it further or to criticize
it and change course. He detested that some younger
colleagues dismissed anything published before a given
date as ‘old stuff and he was often bemused by the
reappearance of old ideas in new clothing” (Silverman;
xix f.).
Eric Wolf was always sceptical about the Romantic
idea of a culture, and two of his highly relevant
contributions are included in the fourth part of the
book. “Culture: Panacea or Problem” is critical about
the imagined continuity of “cultures” which seemed to
exist hardly changed over long periods. “Perilous Ideas”
demonstrates how concepts like culture can take over the
dangerous role of concepts like race.
Anthropology in the second half of the 20th century
was mainly influenced by Eric Wolf and his books
“Peasants” (1966), “Peasant Wars of the Twentieth
Century” (1969), “The Hidden Frontier” (1974, with
J. Cole), “Europe and the People Without History”
(1982), and “Envisioning Power” (1999). This collection
of essays will help this influence to continue into this
century. What makes Eric Wolfs anthropological work
so valuable is his deeply humane attitude, thinking of
people even when working on a highly theoretical level.
The motto for his book “Anthropology” was Dylan
Thomas’s sentence “Man be my metaphor.”
Wolfgang Marschall
Yurkova, Irina: Der Alltag der Transformation.
Kleinunternehmerinnen in Usbekistan. Bielefeld; tran-
script Verlag, 2004. 209 pp. ISBN 3-89942-219-8. (Bi-
bliotheca Eurasica, 2) Preis: € 25,80
Im Bereich der sozialen Sicherung bedeutete die Auf-
lösung der Sowjetunion für die zentralasiatischen Nach-
folgestaaten einen besonders tief greifenden Bruch. Was
zu sozialistischen Zeiten vom Staat übernommen wurde
- sichere Arbeitsplätze mit garantierten Löhnen, subven-
tionierte Preise und Wohnungen, kostenlose Ausbildung,
Krankenversorgung und Kinderbetreuung -, dafür trägt
im Postsozialismus zunehmend jeder Haushalt selbst die
Verantwortung.
Diese Situation verlangt von den Betroffenen eine
Orientierung an “neuen Formen der Kooperation und
Gruppenbildung” (Finke). Die wissenschaftliche Forde-
rung steht im Raum, dass die sozialen Ordnungen in
den zentralasiatischen Gesellschaften jenseits von Ver-
wandtschaft und Nachbarschaft neu zu vermessen sind;
sie geht bislang allerdings einher mit einer diesbezüglich
noch am Anfang stehenden ethnologischen Zentralasien'
forschung.
Die vorliegende Arbeit von Irina Yurkova kann als
Beitrag zu beidem gelesen werden: “Der Alltag der
Transformation. Kleinuntemehmerinnen in Usbekistan’
erweitert einerseits als Ergebnis eines 11-monatigc11
Feldaufenthalts ganz allgemein den Bestand ethnolO'
gischer Forschung über Usbekistan und Zentralasien;
andererseits beleuchtet die Autorin mit dieser überarbei'
teten Dissertation die Organisation neuer “Handlung8'
felder”, deren Erscheinen im Zusammenhang steht nah
dem sukzessiven Rückzug des Staates aus seiner frühe1
so umfassenden Rolle als Garant des sozialen Siche'
rungsnetzes.
In Kapitel 1 (Die geschlechtsspezifische Dimensi'
on der Transformation in Usbekistan) etabliert YurkO'
va zunächst die Subjekte ihrer Forschung: Selbständig
tätige Frauen im Bereich des städtischen Kleingewerbe8
entsprechen ihrem Forschungsinteresse, weil sie “8lC
an der Schnittstelle von Markt- und Subsistenzprodnh
tion sowie von produktiver und reproduktiver Tätig
keit” (14) befinden. Daran schließt sich konsequentei
weise die Darlegung der entsprechenden theoretische11
Grundpositionen an. Yurkova betrachtet die usbekisch®®
Kleinhändlerinnen aus handlungstheoretischem Bhc
winkel, versteht also deren Verhalten als eingebettet
eine “institutioneile Matrix”, die wiederum abhäng »
vom Handeln der Akteure gestaltbar wird. Vor de*
Anthropos 101.20°
Rezensionen
333
Hintergrund dieser wechselseitigen Einflüsse stellt sie
in den nächsten Kapiteln kontinuierlich die Frage nach
der strukturierenden Rolle des Geschlechts.
Die Darstellung der zeitlichen Verankerung einer sol-
chen Geschlechterordnung in den ökonomischen Hand-
lungsfeldern der Kleinunternehmerinnen steht am Be-
ginn des 2. Kapitels (Sicherung des Lebensunterhalts
in der Transformationszeit: Kontinuität und Wandel).
Hs geht hier um das spannungsreiche Verhältnis zwi-
schen Erwerbstätigkeit und staatlichen, beziehungswei-
se privaten Beiträgen zur sozialen Sicherung vor und
nach dem Zusammenbruch der Sowjetunion. Herausge-
arbeitet wird, dass zahlreiche der früher vom sowje-
tischen Staat bereitgestellten Dienstleistungen, “die in
anderen Gesellschaften in der Verantwortung der Frauen
lagen” (42), in der heutigen Zeit wieder in den weibli-
chen Bereich der Hauswirtschaft zurückkehren. Aller-
dings ohne dass sich dadurch für die meisten Frauen
die Möglichkeit des Rückzugs aus dem Erwerbsleben
ergibt: War es bereits zu Sowjetzeiten häufig erforder-
lich, die zwei Gehälter einer Familie mit Nebenver-
diensten aufzubessern, so ist dies in der heutigen Zeit
beinahe unabwendbar - und gleichbedeutend mit einer
Mehrbelastung der weiblichen Haushaltsmitglieder, lin-
ier diesen Notwendigkeiten verbindet sich für Yurkova
das Handlungsfeld der Hausarbeit mit anderen Hand-
langsfeldem. Über die meisten von ihnen - über die
reziproken sozialen Beziehungen unter den Nachbarn
der “Machalla”, innerhalb der “Gefälligkeitsnetzwerke”
1 blat-Netzwerke”) und über die Produktion für lokale
Märkte - eröffnen sich für Frauen Möglichkeiten, wirt-
Schaftlich aktiv zu werden.
Die soziale Organisation dieser kleinunternehmeri-
Schen Tätigkeiten bildet den Kern des 3. Kapitels (Or-
ganisation wirtschaftlicher Tätigkeit: Alternative Akku-
j^ulationsmodi). Yurkova will anhand “typischer Ak-
^arnulationsmodi” aufzeigen “wie bestimmte strukturel-
e Arrangements Vorteile und Möglichkeiten generie-
ren” (72); über den Arbeitsplatz des Ehemanns wird
®lne Kleinhändlerin mit kostenlosen Plastikfolien für
en heimischen Zitronenanbau versorgt; über das tägli-
cbe Miteinander in der Nachbarschaft lassen sich Mit-
arbeiter, Kreditgeber, Konkurrenten und Absatzchan-
cen identifizieren; das Engagement im transnationalen
emhandel macht Frauen zu Pendlerinnen zwischen
',1eirnat und ausländischen Ein- und Verkaufsorten; in
flexiblen Strukturen des “Parallelmarkts” finden
nrer zusätzliche Schüler für besser bezahlte Nach-
rin 6StUnc*en- Zusammengenommen erkennt die Auto-
M daraus geschlechtsspezifische Merkmale der weib-
s- en rnarktorientierten Tätigkeit: Frauen engagieren
ü vornehmlich im Dienstleistungsbereich der Leicht-
n , Nahrungsmittelindustrie; zu Beginn ihrer Unter-
^ mungen verfügen sie meist über geringes Start-
inp^tah ihr Informationsaustausch verläuft vorwiegend
Son Netzwerken aus Verwandten, Freunden oder Per-
bP n.’ denen sie Gemeinsamkeiten bezüglich Le-
We|SSitUat*on, Beruf, Nationalität oder Wohnort auf-
sjc^Sen- Stets, so stellt Yurkova heraus, stabilisieren
diese weiblichen Netzwerke eher über “eine Form
Anth
r°Pos 101.2006
der Loyalität” (88) als entlang reinem wirtschaftlichem
Interesse.
Diese Erkenntnis hat auch im nächsten Kapitel Be-
stand. Richtete sich der Blick bisher vor allem auf die
Anbindung der Kleinhändlerinnen an ihre Märkte, so
schwenkt das Interesse in Kapitel 4 (Produktionspro-
zesse in ihrer gesellschaftlichen Einbettung) über auf
die Frage nach der Anbindung dieser Kleinhändlerinnen
an ihre Kunden. Ins Zentrum rückt damit der Begriff
der “Frauenökonomie”. Mit ihm verbindet die Auto-
rin eine in den sozialen Kontext eingebettete weibliche
Handlungsrationalität, die gekennzeichnet ist durch die
“untrennbare Verflechtung von Gewinnstreben und Fa-
milienversorgung” (90). Wie werden unter dieser Grund-
annahme Handlungsräume gestaltet? In den Beziehun-
gen zu den unmittelbaren Familien- und Haushaltsan-
gehörigen (dem Bereich des “Innen”) treten dabei vor
allem zwei Charakteristika von Frauenökonomien her-
vor: die räumliche Zusammenlegung von Produktion
und Betreuung sowie die Mitarbeit von Angehörigen.
Die Bäckerin bereitet ihre Torten in der heimischen
Küche zu, um die älteste Tochter täglich zum Englisch-
unterricht begleiten zu können - ohne die Hilfe der
Schwiegermutter, in der Küche und bei der Betreuung
der anderen Tochter, wäre dies allerdings nicht möglich.
Nach “Außen” - gegenüber Interaktionspartnern, die
“nur in funktionaler Beziehung zum ‘Innen’ von Be-
deutung” (89) sind - tritt für Yurkova der moralöko-
nomische Charakter der Frauenökonomie hervor. Ent-
lang der Achsen einer zweifachen Kontrolle, ausgeübt
einmal durch die vom Staat geforderte Registrierung
der erwerbsmäßigen Tätigkeiten, andererseits durch die
soziale Kontrolle der Öffentlichkeit, typologisiert die
Autorin ihr Material. Im Ergebnis identifiziert sie grund-
legende Handlungsparameter der Frauenökonomie: Ver-
trauen und Solidarität sind die wichtigsten Bausteine zur
Erreichung des höchsten Ziels, der familiären sozialen
Sicherheit; die Einbettung des wirtschaftlichen Handelns
in gemeinschaftliche Zusammenhänge genießt Priorität
vor den monetären Gewinnen; und: ein Legitimations-
potenzial, gespeist vom “Bild der Frau, die für das
Überleben ihrer Familie sorgt” (131), macht staatliche
Sanktionsmöglichkeiten gegenüber der oft unregistrier-
ten kleinunternehmerischen Tätigkeit verhandelbar.
Eine Frauenökonomie gewinnt letztlich ihren ana-
lytischen Sinn aus der Gegenüberstellung zu einer
“Männerökonomie”. Da Yurkova auf deren Spezifität
jedoch nicht eingeht, entsteht das Bild einer männlichen
Wirtschaftsweise, die rein materiell orientiert ist und de-
ren vorrangiges Ziel nicht in der sozialen Sicherung der
Familie liegt. Allein das Beispiel eines Medizindozen-
ten, der morgens vor dem Antritt seiner eigentlichen Ar-
beit einen Krämerladen neben dem zentralen Kaufhaus
betreibt, um den Lebensstandard für sich und seinen
Sohn zu erhöhen, lässt daran Zweifel aufkommen.
Im 5. Kapitel (Identitätsbildung zwischen Freiheit
und Marginalisierung) unternimmt die Autorin den Ver-
such, aus den bis dahin beschriebenen Handlungen
der Kleinunternehmerinnen “rückzuschließen” auf de-
ren “Sinnsetzungen”. Die Frage nach dem Sinn der
334
Miszelle
"m
Selbständigkeit beantwortet sie mit einem “Konzept des
menschenwürdigen Lebens” (135). Der rote Faden reißt
auch hier nicht ab; letztlich beruht dieses Konstrukt
auf den “emischen Statuseinschätzungen” zu materiel-
lem Wohlstand (“genug essen”) und sozialem Austausch
(“klar kommen”). Quasi als Gegenspieler zur sozialen
Praxis positioniert Yurkova den vom autoritären us-
bekischen Staat dominierten öffentlichen Diskurs über
islamische Werte, Nationalkultur und traditionelle Insti-
tutionen. Aus Sicht der Autorin ist dabei der Teildiskurs
über “das Bild ‘unserer Frauen’” (157) ein von diesen
eigentlichen Diskurssubjekten nicht wahrgenommener,
und für diese ebenso folgenloser Versuch des staatlichen
Apparates, ambivalente Werte des Postsozialismus (mo-
derne, berufstätige Frau) und Traditionalismus (Haus-
frau und Mutter) zu vereinigen.
Unverständlich bleibt, warum die Autorin ihre Prot-
agonistinnen gerade in diesem Abschnitt, konzipiert als
diskurstheoretischer Kommentar zum handlungstheore-
tischen Grundansatz, so wenig zu Wort kommen lässt.
Yurkova belässt es bei ihren Schlussfolgerungen, anstatt
die Verarbeitung der widersprüchlichen Staatspropagan-
da im privaten Gespräch zu dokumentieren, und das pri-
vate Gespräch als Kommentar zum alltäglichen Handeln
der Kleinunternehmerinnen im Spannungsfeld moderner
und traditionaler Ansprüche zu nutzen.
Kritisch an Yurkovas Studie ist letzten Endes vor
allem das Missverhältnis zwischen präsentiertem eth-
nographischem Material und dem Anspruch an Verall-
gemeinerung. Aufwendige Typologisierungen und stark
umfassende Konzepte müssen ein ums andere Mal im
Angesicht der “Daten” relativiert werden. Auf letzt-
lich knapp 200 Seiten finden sich vor allem Inter-
vie wfragmente: diese dienen einerseits vorrangig der
Bestätigung der ausgebreiteten Theoriegerüste, als dass
sie zum Ausgangspunkt maßvollerer Schlussfolgerungen
werden; andererseits erfahren sie kaum eine “Einbet-
tung” in detaillierte Beschreibungen des sozialen Um-
felds der Kleinunternehmerinnen. Aus den handlungs-
theoretisch-institutionellen Grundannahmen müsste je-
doch mehr abgeleitet werden als eine “Interview-Eth-
nologie”. Die Arbeit scheitert an dem im Klappen-
text formulierten Anspruch “ein tieferes Verständnis des
postsowjetischen Transformationsprozesses insgesamt”
zu erschließen, “das weit über Usbekistan hinaus Gültig-
keit beanspruchen kann”. Trotzdem liefert Irina Yurkova
einen wichtigen Beitrag für die Zentralasienethnologie:
die von ihr gewährten Einblicke zeugen vor allem von
der individuellen Flexibilität und der Dynamik sozia-
ler Organisation aus der Perspektive bewundernswerter
“Managerinnen des Sozialen”. Philipp Schröder
Im Dienst der Mission und der Wissenschaft. Zur
Entstehungsgeschichte der Zeitschrift Anthropos
(Karl Josef Rivinius). - Angesichts des im 19. Jahr-
hundert zunehmenden Interesses für Völkerkunde und
Sprachwissenschaft dachte P. Wilhelm Schmidt SVD
an die Gründung einer entsprechenden Fachzeitschrift.
Sie sollte den Missionaren die Möglichkeit bieten, darin
ihre völkerkundlichen und sprachwissenschaftlichen Ar-
beiten zu publizieren, außerdem sie zu Forschungen in
ihrem jeweiligen Lebens- und Wirkungsbereich motivie-
ren und anleiten. Schmidt legte zudem besonderen Wert
auf den wissenschaftlichen Charakter der Zeitschrift»
weshalb er von Anfang an Fachgelehrten, Nichtkatholi-
ken eingeschlossen, die aktive Mitarbeit anbot.
Im Februar 1906 erschien das erste Heft der neuen
Zeitschrift für Völker- und Sprachenkunde, Anthropos-
Vorliegende Studie behandelt die Genese der Zeitschrift
sowie ihre wechselvolle Entwicklung in ihrem weiteren
historischen und situativen Kontext bis zum Jahr 1909-
- ([Studia Instituti Anthropos, 51] Fribourg: AcadernK
Press Fribourg Switzerland, 2005. 352 pp. ISBN 3-7278-
1478-0. Preis: € 50.00)
Anthropos 101-20^
Neue Publikationen
Abrahams, Roger D.: Everyday Life. A Poetics of Ver-
nacular Practices. Philadelphia: University of Penn-
sylvania Press, 2005. 286 pp. ISBN 0-8122-3841-9.
Adogame, Afe, and Cordula Weissköppel (eds.): Re-
ligion in the Context of African Migration. Bay-
reuth: Bayreuth University, 2005. 366 pp. ISBN
3-927510-89-0. (Bayreuth African Studies, 75)
Al-Azm, Sadik J Islam und säkularer Humanismus.
Hrsg, von Eilert Heims. Tübingen; Mohr Siebeck,
2005. 118 pp. ISBN 3-16-148527-0.
Allahar, Anton L. (ed.): Ethnicity, Class, and Nation-
alism. Caribbean and Extra-Caribbean Dimensions.
Lanham; Lexington Books, 2005. 281pp. ISBN
0-7391-0893-X.
Almeida, Luiz Sâvio del, etal. (eds): Indios do Nord-
este. Temas e problemas; vols. 2, 3, 4 y 5. Ma-
ceiö: EDUFAL, 2000; 2002; 2004; 2004. 448 pp.;
271 pp.; 203 pp.; 123 pp. ISBN 85-7177-078-6; 85-
7177-092-1; 85-7177-184-7; 85-7177-182-0.
A|thoff, Gerd: Die Macht der Rituale. Symbolik und
Herrschaft im Mittelalter. Darmstadt: Primus Ver-
lag, 2003. 256 pp. ISBN 3-89678-473-0.
A*tderson, David G., and Eva Berglund (eds.): Eth-
nographies of Conservation. Environmentalism and
Distribution of Privilege. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2004. 226 pp. ISBN 1-57181-696-8.
^do, Marita, und Inge Seiwert: Berührungen. Gerd
Thielemann, ein Leipziger Maler und Sammler in
Mittelasien und Russland. Leipzig: Museum für
Völkerkunde, Grassimuseum, 2003. 36 pp., Fotos,
1 CD-ROM. ISBN 3-910031-31-5.
üdrews, E. Wyllys, and William L. Fash (eds.):
Copan. The History of an Ancient Maya Kingdom.
Santa Fe: School of American Research Press; Ox-
ford; James Currey, 2005. 492 pp. ISBN 1-930618-
^ 38-7; ISBN 0-85255-981-X.
^foun, Richard T.: Documenting Transnational Mi-
gration. Jordanian Men, Working and Studying in
Europe, Asia, and North America. New York: Berg-
hahn Books, 2005. 325 pp. ISBN 1-84545-037-X.
a (New Directions in Anthropology, 25)
Utweiler, Christoph: Southeast Asia. A Bibliography
°f Societies and Cultures - Südostasien. Eine Bi-
bliographie zu Gesellschaften und Kulturen. Singa-
pore: ISEAS; Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 130 pp.,
1 CD-ROM. ISBN 971-230-272-7; ISBN 3-8258-
7706-X. (South Asian Dynamics, 3)
Anthr°Pos 101.2006
Anyanwu, L. A.: Nigeria. Owerri People and Their
Culture. Owerri: Madonna Computers, 2004. 89 pp.
ISBN 978-2579-54-8.
Arayam, Manuel, et ai: A Voice from Mt. Apo. Oral
and Written Essays on the Culture and World View
of the Manobo. Ed. by Melchor Bayawam. Manila:
Linguistic Society of the Philippines, 2005. ISBN
971-780-021-9.
Arens, Werner, und Hans-Martin Braun: Die Indianer
Nordamerikas. Geschichte, Kultur, Religion. Mün-
chen; Verlag C.H. Beck, 2004. 127 pp. ISBN 3-
406-50830-8. (Beck’sehe Reihe, 2330)
Arhem, Kaj, and Diego Samper: Makuna. Portrait of
an Amazonian People. Pbk. reissue. Washington:
Smithsonian Books, 2004. 172 pp., photos. ISBN
1-58834-092-9.
Asal, Susanne, und Hubert Stadler: Patagonien, Feuer-
land. Land am Ende der Welt. München: C. J. Bu-
cher Verlag, 2005. 288 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-7658-
1496-2.
Aveiga del Pino, Maria (ed.): Cuentos populäres y
mitos indigenas del Ecuador. Palma de Mallorca:
Libre Mundi y José J. de Olaneta, 2003. 118 pp.
ISBN 84-9716-215-3.
Baer, Harald, etal. (Hrsg.): Lexikon neureligiöser
Gruppen, Szenen und Weltanschauungen. Orientie-
rungen im religiösen Pluralismus. Völlig neu be-
arb. Ausg. Freiburg: Verlag Herder, 2005. 1474 Sp.
ISBN 3-451-28256-9.
Bâez-Jorge, Félix: Los disfraces del diabolo. Ensayo
sobre la reinterpretacion de la nocion cristiana del
Mal en Mesoamérica). Xalapa: Universidad Vera-
cruzana, 2003. 689 pp. ISBN 968-834-617-9.
Ballard, Chris, et al. (eds.): The Sweet Potato in
Oceania. A Reappraisal. Pittsburgh: University of
Pittsburgh, 2005. 227 pp. ISBN 0-945428-13-8.
(Ethnology Monographs, 19; Oceania Monograph,
56)
Banerjee, Sudeshna: Durga Puja. Yesterday, Today,
and Tomorrow. New Delhi: Rupa, 2004. 102 pp.
ISBN 81-291-0547-0.
Barnett, Norman: Black Heroes and the Spiritual
Onyame. An Insight into the Cosmological Worlds
of Peoples of African Descent. Croydon: Filament
Publishing, 2005. 214 pp. ISBN 0-9546531-7-3.
Barnhart, Terry A.: Ephraim George Squier and the
Development of American Anthropology. Lincoln;
336
Neue Publikationen
University of Nebraska Press, 2005. 425 pp. ISBN
0-8032-1321-2.
Barth, Fredrik, et ai: One Discipline, Four Ways.
British, German, French, and American Anthro-
pology. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
2005. 406 pp. ISBN 0-226-03829-7.
Basilow, W.N.: Sibirische Schamanen. Auserwählte
Geister. Berlin: Reinhold Schletzer Verlag, 2004.
255 pp. ISBN 3-921539-38-2. (Studia Eurasia, 9)
Bastian, Jean-Pierre, étal, (éds.) : La globalisation du
religieux. Paris ; L’Harmattan, 2001. 282 pp. ISBN
2-7475-0237-6.
Bauer, Kenneth M.: High Frontiers. Dolpo and the
Changing World of Himalayan Pastoralists. New
York: Columbia University Press, 2004. 270 pp.
ISBN 0-231-12391-4.
Bauer, Stefan, etal. (Hrsg.): Bruchlinien im Eis. Ethno-
logie des zirkumpolaren Nordens. Wien: Lit Verlag,
2005. 316 pp. ISBN 3-8258-8270-5. (Beiträge zum
zirkumpolaren Norden, 1)
Bauman, Richard, and Charles L. Briggs: Voices of
Modernity. Language Ideologies and the Politics
of Inequality. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2003. 356 pp. ISBN 0-521-00897-2.
Baumer, Christoph; Frühes Christentum zwischen
Euphrat und Jangtse. Eine Zeitreise entlang der
Seidenstraße zur Kirche des Ostens. Stuttgart; Ver-
lag Urachhaus, 2005. 336 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-8251-
7450-6.
Beauperin, Yves : Anthropologie du geste symbolique.
Paris: L’Harmattan, 2002. 302pp. ISBN 2-7475-
3086-8.
Ben-Dor Benite, Zvi: The Dao of Muhammad. A Cul-
tural History of Muslims in Late Imperial Chi-
na. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005.
280 pp. ISBN 0-674-01774-9. (Harvard East Asian
Monographs, 248)
Bennun, Neil: The Broken String. The Last Words of
an Extinct People. London: Penguin Books, 2005.
420 pp. ISBN 0-14100-823-7.
Bérard, Laurence, et Philippe Marchenay : Les
produits de terroir entre cultures et règlements.
Paris : CNRS Éditions, 2004. 229 pp. ISBN 2-271-
06211-X.
Bertels, Ursula, et al. (Hrsg.): Aus der Feme in die
Nähe. Neue Wege der Ethnologie in die Öffent-
lichkeit. Münster: Waxmann Verlag, 2004. 253 pp.
ISBN 3-8309-1375-3. (Praxis Ethnologie, 2)
Betz, Hans-Dieter, etal. (Hrsg.): Religion in Geschich-
te und Gegenwart. Handwörterbuch für Theologie
und Religionswissenschaft. 4., völlig neu bearb.
Aufl.; Bd. 8: T-Z. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005.
1966 Sp. ISBN 3-16-146948-8.
Bianchi, Robert R.: Guests of God. Pilgrimage and Pol-
itics in the Islamic World. New York: Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 2004. 358 pp. ISBN 0-19-517107-1.
Binder, Beate, etal. (Hrsg.): Ort, Arbeit, Körper.
Ethnografie europäischer Modernen. 34. Kongress
der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, Berlin
2003. Münster: Waxmann Verlag, 2005. 565 pp.
ISBN 3-8309-1530-6. (Schriftenreihe Museum Eu-
ropäischer Kulturen, 3)
Blanchetière, François : Les premiers chrétiens étaient-
ils missionnaires? (30-135). Paris: Les Éditions
du Cerf, 2002. 225 pp. ISBN 2-204-07010-6.
Blankenborn, David, etal. (eds.): Does Christianity
Teach Male Headship? The Equal-Regard Marriage
and Its Critics. Grand Rapids: William B. Erdmans
Publishing, 2004. 141 pp. ISBN 0-8028-2171-5.
Blesse, Giselher: Kunst aus Ostafrika. Leipzig: Museum
für Völkerkunde, 2004. 48 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-
910031-34-X.
Blount, Jackie M.: Fit to Teach. Same-Sex-Desire,
Gender, and School Work in the Twentieth Century.
Albany; SUNY Press, 2005. 229 pp. ISBN 0-7914-
6267-6.
Boekels, Ernst (Hrsg.): “Orbi lingua.” Kurzsprache für
den Erdkreis. Tönisvorst: Selbstverlag, 2005.
Boff, Leonardo: Global Civilization. Challenges to So-
ciety and to Christianity. London: Equinox Pub-
lishing, 2003. 102 pp. ISBN 1-84553-005-5.
Bofinger, Jörg: Untersuchungen zur neolithischen Be-
siedlungsgeschichte des Oberen Gäus. Mit Bei-
trägen von C.-J. Kind und E. Stephan. Stuttgart:
Konrad Theiss Verlag, 2005. 721 pp. ISBN 3-8062-
1742-4. (Materialhefte zur Archäologie in Baden-
Württemberg, 68)
Bolduan, Anka, etal. (Red.): Ein Faden verbindet.
Weltumspannende Fadenspiele. Bremen: Übersee-
museum Bremen, 2005. 59 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-
88299-092-9.
Bourquin, Alexandre : Histoire des Petits-Blancs de la
Réunion, XIXe - début XXe siècle. Aux confirm
de Toubli. Paris ; Éditions Karthala, 2005. 327 pp'
ISBN 2-84586-646-1.
Boutinet, Jean-Pierre : Anthropologie du projet. Paris :
Presses Universitaires de France, 2005. 405 pp-
ISBN 2-13-054708-7.
Boyer, Dominic: Spirit and System. Media, Intellectu-
als, and the Dialectic in Modem German Culture-
Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005-
323 pp. ISBN 0-226-06891-9.
Bradshaw, Joel, and Francise Czobor (eds.): Otto
Dempwolff s “Grammar of the Jabêm Languag6
in New Guinea.” Honolulu: University of Hawai 1
Press, 2005. 116 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2932-8. (Ocean-
ic Linguistics Special Publication, 32)
Brandt, Hermann: Spiritualität und Protest. Religi°n
und Theologie in Lateinamerika. NeuendettelsaU
Erlanger Verlag für Mission und Ökumene, 2005-
195 pp. ISBN 3-87214-613-0.
Brown, Michael F.: Who Owns Native Culture? CaiU'
bridge: Harvard University Press, 2003. 315 pP’
ISBN 0-674-01633-5. f
Bryant, Rebecca: Imaging the Modem. The Cultures 0
Nationalism in Cyprus. London: I. B. Tauris, 200
307 pp. ISBN 1-85043-462-X.
Bsteh, Andreas, und Tahir Mahmood (Hrsg.): Intole
ranz und Gewalt. Erscheinungsformen - Gründe
Zustände. 2. Vienna International Christian-IslalT1
Anthropos 101-20^
Neue Publikationen
337
ic Round Table, Wien, 21. bis 24. Februar 2002.
Mödling: Verlag St. Gabriel, 2004. 186 pp. ISBN
3-85264-601-4. (Vienna International Christian-Is-
lamic Round Table, 2)
Buc, Philippe : Dangereux rituel. De l’histoire médiéva-
le aux sciences sociales. Paris ; Presses Universitai-
res de France, 2003. 372 pp. ISBN 2-13-052889-9.
Bunce, Fredrick W.: Buddhist Textiles of Laos, Lan
Na, and the Isan. The Iconography of Design Ele-
ments. New Delhi: D. K. Printworld, 2004. 411 pp.,
photos. ISBN 81-246-0250-6.
Burt, Ben: Africa in the World. Past and Present. A
Museum History. London; The British Museum
Press, 2005. 63 pp., photos. ISBN 0-7141-2571-7.
Cabrera, Lydia : La forêt et les dieux. Religions a-
fro-cubaines et médecine sacrée à Cuba. Paris :
Éditions Jean-Michel Place, 2003. 604 pp. ISBN
2- 85893-673-0. (Les cahiers de Gradhiva, 33)
Cairns, Ed, and Micheál D. Roe (eds.): The Role of
Memory in Ethnic Conflict. Basingstoke: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2003. 201 pp. ISBN 0-333-75133-7.
Centres Culturels Catholiques - Catholic Cultural Cen-
tres - Centros culturales católicos - Centros cultu-
ráis católicos - Katholische Kulturzentren - Centri
culturali cattolici. Éd. par Pontificium Consilium de
Cultura. 4e éd. Città del Vaticano: Librería Editrice
Vaticana, 2005. 190 pp.
p 1 1
Cameron, Deborah, and Don Kulick: Language and
Sexuality. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2003. 176 pp. ISBN 0-521-00969-3.
Campbell, George Van Pelt: Everything You Know
Seems Wrong. Globalization and the Relativizing
of Tradition. Lanham: University Press of America,
2005. 223 pp. ISBN 0-7618-3078-2.
'“handler, Stuart: Establishing a Pure Land on Earth.
The Foguang Buddhist Perspective on Moderniza-
tion and Globalization. Honolulu: University of
Hawai’i Press, 2004. 371 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2746-5.
harlesworth, Max, etal. (eds.): Aboriginal Religions
in Australia. An Anthology of Recent Writings.
Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2005. 324 pp. ISBN
0-7546-5128-2.
ludad Ruiz, Andrés, etal. (eds.) Antropología de la
eternidad. La muerte en la cultura Maya. Madrid:
Sociedad Española de Estudios Mayas y Centro de
Estudios Mayas, 2003. 551 pp. ISBN 84-923545-
3- 4. (Publicaciones de la S. E. E. M., 7)
attimer, John: Diaspora and Identity. The Sociology
°f Culture in Southeast Asia. Selangor: Pelanduk
ç Publications, 2002. 339 pp. ISBN 967-978-791-5.
ark-Deces, Isabelle: No One Cries for the Dead.
Tamil Dirges, Rowdy Songs, and Graveyard Pe-
htions. Berkeley: University of California Press,
ç 2005. 242 pp. ISBN 0-520-24314-5.
assen, Constance (ed.): The Book of Touch. Oxford:
Cl Eerg, 2005. 461 pp. ISBN 1-84520-059-4.
eVen°t, Dominique, und Gérard Degeorge: Das
Ornament in der Baukunst des Islam. München:
Hirmer Verlag, 2000. 224 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-7774-
8690-6.
Vh
Clouser, Roy A.: The Myth of Religious Neutrality.
An Essay on the Hidden Role of Religious Belief in
Theories. Rev. ed. Notre Dame: University of Notre
Dame Press, 2005. 397 pp. ISBN 0-268-02366-2.
Cockburn, Cynthia: The Line. Women, Partition, and
the Gender Order in Cyprus. London: Zed Books,
2004. 243 pp. ISBN 1-84277-421-2.
Cohen, Myron L.: Kinship, Contract, Community,
and State. Anthropological Perspectives on China.
Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005. 359 pp.
ISBN 0-8047-5067-X.
Corbey, Ramond: The Metaphysics of Apes. Nego-
tiating the Animal-Human Boundary. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2005. 227 pp. ISBN
0-521-54533-1.
Cortes, Gustavo: Dança, Brasil! Pestas e danças po-
pulares. Belo Horizonte: Editora Lettura, 2000.
187 pp., fotos. ISBN 85-7358-321-5.
Couto, Patricia Brandào: Festa do Rosario. Iconografìa
e poètica de um rito. Niterói: Editora da Univer-
sidade Federal Fluminense, 2003. 268 pp. ISBN
85-228-0365-X. (Coleçào Antropologia e Ciência
Politica, 32)
Cucilo, Gabriel, et Loie Robin : Les Malinke du Kon-
kodugu. Paris: L’Harmattan, 2005. 326pp. ISBN
2-7475-8226-4.
Culture, Ethnicity, and Justice in the South. The South-
ern Anthropological Society, 1968-1971. Tusca-
loosa: The University of Alabama Press, 2005.
623 pp. ISBN 0-8173-5173-6.
Cuti (Luiz Silva) e Maria das Dores Fernandes (org.);
Consciência negra do Brasil. Os principals livres.
Belo Horizonte: Mazza Ediçôes, 2002. 111 pp.
ISBN 85-7160-213-1.
Cuypers, Jan-B. : L’habillement du Rwanda ancien.
Typologie et technologie des vêtements ; perspec-
tives historique et sociale et catalogue du Musée
National du Rwanda. Tervuren : Musée Royal de
l’Afrique Centrale, 2004. 206 pp., ph. ISBN 90-
75894-53-8. (Annales Sciences Humaines, 168)
Dacher, Michèle : Cent ans au village. Chronique fa-
miliale gouin (Burkina Faso). Paris : Éditions Kar-
thala, 2005. 399 pp. ISBN 2-84586-602-X.
Darlington, Patricia S. F., and Becky Michele Mul-
vaney: Women, Power, and Ethnicity. Working
Toward Reciprocal Empowerment. New York: The
Haworth Press, 2003. 241 pp. ISBN 0-7890-1058-5.
Deliège, Robert : La religion des intouchables de
l’Inde. Villeneuve d’Ascq ; Presses Universitaires
du Septentrion, 2004. 165 pp. ISBN 2-85939-841-
4. (Mythes, imaginaires, religions, 3)
Del Pozo-Vergnes, Ethel: De la hacienda a la mun-
dialización. Sociedad, pastores y cambios en el
altipiano perdano. Lima: IFEA, 2004. 283 pp. ISBN
9972-51-099-9. (Estudios de la sociedad rural,
23)
Denieuil, Pierre-Noël : Femmes et entreprises en Tuni-
sie. Essai sur les cultures du travail féminin. Paris :
L’Harmattan, 2005. 170 pp. ISBN 2-7475-8284-1.
Descola, Philippe: Antropologia de la naturaleza. Lima:
,r°pos 101.2006
338
Neue Publikationen
IFEA, 2003. 91 pp. ISBN 9972-623-23-8. (Colec-
ción Biblioteca Andina de Bolsillo, 19)
Despret, Vinciane: Our Emotional Makeup. Ethnopsy-
chology and Selfhood. New York; Other Press,
2004. 326 pp. ISBN 1-59051-036-4.
DeVotta, Neil: Blowback. Linguistic Nationalism, Insti-
tutional Decay, and Ethnic Conflict in Sri Lanka.
Stanford; Stanford University Press, 2004. 276 pp.
ISBN 0-8047-4924-8.
Diawara, Mamadou (éd.) : L’interface entre les savoirs
paysans et le savoir universel. Bamako ; Le figuier,
2003. 249 pp. ISBN 2-84258-040-0.
Dilan, Hasan : La mission du lycée Saint-Benoît dans
les relations turco-françaises. Paris : L’Harmattan,
2003. 227 pp. ISBN 2-7475-5777-4.
Djamba, Yanyi K. (ed.): Sexual Behavior of Adoles-
cents in Contemporary Sub-Saharan Africa. Lewis-
ton: The Edwin Mellen Press, 2005. 286 pp. ISBN
0-7734-6243-0. (Studies in African Health and
Medicine, 11)
D’Onofrio, Salvatore : L’esprit de la parenté. Europe
et horizon chrétien. Paris : Editions de la Maison
des sciences de l’homme, 2004. 297 pp. ISBN 2-
7351-1001-X.
Dores Fernandes, Guti das, e Maria das Dores Fer-
nandes (eds.): Consciência negra do Brasil. Os
principáis livres. Belo Horizonte; Mazza Ediçôes,
2002. 111pp. ISBN 85-7160213-1.
Downey, Greg: Learning Capoeira. Lessons in Cunning
from an Afro-Brazilian Art. Oxford; Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 2005. 272 pp. ISBN 0-19-517697-9.
Dreyfus, Martine, et Caroline Juillard : Le plurilin-
guisme au Sénégal. Langues et identités en deve-
nir. Paris : Éditions Karthala, 2004. 358 pp. ISBN
2-84586-618-6.
Dschingis Khan und seine Erben. Das Weltreich der
Mongolen. Katalog zur Ausstellung; vom 16. Juni
bis 25. September 2005, Kunst- und Ausstellungs-
halle der Bundsrepublik Deutschland, Bonn; vom
26. Oktober 2005 bis 29. Januar 2006, Staatli-
ches Museum für Völkerkunde München. Koordi-
nation Jutta Frings. München: Hirmer Verlag, 2005.
432 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-7774-2545-1.
Ebauch, Helen Rose (ed.): Handbook of Religion
and Social Institutions. New York: Springer, 2005.
439 pp. ISBN 0-387-23788-7.
Elsas, Christoph: Religionsgeschichte Europas. Reli-
giöses Leben von der Vorgeschichte bis zur Ge-
genwart. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell-
schaft, 2002. 239 pp. ISBN 3-534-15621-8.
Erny, Pierre : L’éducation au Rwanda au temps des
rois. Essais sur la tradition culturelle et pédagogique
d’un pays d’Afrique centrale. Paris : L’Harmattan,
2005. 351 pp. ISBN 2-7475-8275-2.
Etzioni, Amitai, and Jared Bloom (eds.): We Are
What We Celebrate. Understanding Holidays and
Rituals. New York: New York University Press,
2004. 253 pp. ISBN 0-8147-2227-X.
Evans, Toby Susan, and Joanne Pillsbury (eds.): Pal-
aces of the Ancient New World. A Symposium at
Dumbarton Oaks 10th and 11th October 1998. Wash-
ington: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Col-
lection, 2004. 416 pp. ISBN 0-88402-300-1.
Falola, Toyin, and Matt D. Childs (eds.): The Yoru-
ba Diaspora in the Atlantic World. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 2004. 455 pp. ISBN 0-
253-21716-4.
Femenías, Blenda: Gender and the Boundaries of Dress
in Contemporary Peru. Austin: University of Texas
Press, 2005. 368 pp. ISBN 0-292-70263-9. (Louann
Atkins Temple Women and Culture Series, 6)
Fernández Distel, Alicia : Iconografía prehispánica de
Jujuy. Una visión desde la arqueología. Buenos
Aires: Editorial Dunken, 2004. 138 pp. ISBN 987-
02-0737-5.
Fernández Garay, Ana: Diccionario Tehuelche-Es-
pañol. Indice Español-Tehuelche. Leiden: CNWS
Publications, 2004. 208 pp. ISBN 90-5789-092-5.
(Lenguas Indígenas de América Latina, 4)
Florentino, Manolo, e Cacilda Machado (eds.); Ensa-
ios sobre a escravidáo; voi. 1. Belo Horizonte: Edi-
tora UFMG, 2003. 287 pp. ISBN 85-7041-366-1.
Fonseca, Denise Pini Rosalem da, e Tereza Marques
de Oliveira Lima: Noticias de outros mundos.
Lendas, imagens e outros segredos das deusas nagò.
Rio de Janeiro: Historia y Vida, 2002. 346 pp. ISBN
85-89369-01-3. (Historia e estórias, 1)
Fontanille, Jacques : Soma et sèma. Figures du corps-
Paris ; Maisonneuve & Larose, 2004. 270 pp. ISBN
2-7068-1823-9.
Fontijne, Louis: Guardians of the Land in Relimado.
Louis Fontijne’s Study of a Colonial District in
Eastern Indonesia. Ed. by Gregory Forth. Leiden:
KITLV Press, 2004. 266 pp. ISBN 90-6718-223-0-
(Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volken-
kunde: Translation Series, 27)
Forth, Christopher E., and Ana Cardden-Coyne
(eds.): Cultures of the Abdomen. Diet, Digestion,
and Fat in the Modern World. New York: Palgrav'6
Macmillan, 2005. 264 pp. ISBN 1-4039-6521-8.
Frenz, Matthias: Gottes-Mutter-Göttin. Marienvereh-
rung im Spannungsfeld religiöser Traditionen in
Südindien. Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2004. 223 pp-
ISBN 3-89913-343-9. (Beiträge zur Südasienfot'
schung, 195)
Frömmlet, Wolfram, und Henning Wagenbreth: Mon
und Morgenstern. Eine Geschichte aus Afrika
Neuaufl. Wuppertal: Peter Hammer Verlag, 2004-
44 pp. ISBN 3-87294-784-2.
Gächter, Othmar: The Encounter between Religi0llS
and Cultures. 100 Years of Anthropos - Internatio^
al Review of Anthropology and Linguistics. Sep-'
Verbum svd (Nettetal) 2005: 193-205.
Gandhi, Maneka: The Penguin Book of Hindu NaflU5
for Boys. New Delhi: Penguin Books India, 200
429 pp. ISBN 0-14-303168-6.
--- The Penguin Book of Hindu Names for Girls. Ne
Delhi: Penguin Books India, 2004. 151 pp-
0-14-303169-4.
Garcia Icazbalceta, Joaquín: Juan Diego y las apa
Anthropos 101.200
Neue Publikationen
339
riciones del Tepeyac. Un estudio científico por el
máximo erudito en historia colonial mexicana. Mé-
xico: Publicaciones para el estudio científico de las
religiones, 2002. 63 pp. ISBN 970-92771-3-8.
Gauditano, Rosa, e Percival Tirapeli: Festas de Fé
- Festivals of Faith. Säo Paulo; Metalivros, 2003.
228 pp., fotos. ISBN 85-85371-51-X.
Geisenhainer, Katja, und Katharina Lange (Hrsg.);
Bewegliche Horizonte. Festschrift zum 60. Ge-
burtstag von Bernhard Streck. Leipzig: Leipziger
Universitätsverlag, 2005. 609 pp. ISBN 3-86583-
078-1.
Ghareeb, Edmund A.: Historical Dictionary of Iraq.
Lanham: The Scarecrow Press, 2004. 459 pp. ISBN
0-8108-4330-7. (Historical Dictionaries of Asia,
Oceania, and the Middle East, 44)
Giaccaria, Bartolomeo, e Cosma Salvatore: Iniciaçâo
Xavante à vida adulta (Danhono) - The Xavante
Initiation to Adulthood (Danhono). Campo Grande:
UCDB, 2001. 91 pp., fotos. ISBN 85-86919-59-4.
Gibson, Thomas: And the Sun Pursued the Moon. Sym-
bolic Knowledge and Traditional Authority among
the Makassar. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i
Press, 2005. 262 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2865-8.
Glowczewski, Barbara : Rêves en colère avec les Ab-
origènes australiens. Alliances aborigènes dans le
Nord-Ouest australien. Paris : Éditions Plon, 2004.
437 pp., 1 CD-ROM. ISBN 2-259-19931-3.
^°guel d’Allondans, Thierry : Rites de passage, rites
d’initiation. Lecture d’Arnold van Gennep. Saint-
Nicolas : Les Presses de l’Université Laval, 2002.
146 pp. ISBN 2-7637-7864-X.
^°od, Charles M.: The Steamer Parish. The Rise and
Fall of Missionary Medicine on an African Fron-
tier. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
2004. 487 pp. ISBN 0-226-30282-2. (University of
Chicago Geography Research Paper, 244)
°ttschalk, Burkhard: Kunst aus Schwarzafrika. Vom
Gimbala zum Kongostrom. Düsseldorf: Verlag U.
Gottschalk, 2005. 239 pp., Fotos. (Africa incogni-
G ta’ 1}
ranada, Daniel: Reseña histórico. Descriptiva de
antiguas y modernas supersticiones del Río de
la Plata. Montevideo: Editorial Capibara, 2003.
G 486 pp. ISBN 9974-7743-0-6.
fasniueck, Oliver: Geschichte und Aktualität der
Daoismusrezeption im deutschsprachigen Raum.
Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 145 pp. ISBN 3-8258-
Ur ^017-0. (Religionen in der pluralen Welt, 2)
eeiL Sarah F.: Notes from the Balkans. Locating
Marginality and Ambiguity on the Greek-Alban-
lan Border. Princeton: Princeton University Press,
0 2005. 313 pp. ISBN 0-691-12199-0.
rundmann, Dietmar, et al: Goldene Sterne, Stähler-
ne Wolken. Pracht und Magie Indonesiens. Leipzig;
Museum für Völkerkunde, Grassimuseum, 2002.
0r 3.6PP-, Fotos, 1 CD-ROM. ISBN 3-910031-29-3.
uP<oni, Luís Donisete Benzi (org.): indios no Brasil.
4a ed. Säo Paulo: Global Editora, 2000. 279 pp.,
Mtos. ISBN 85-260-0615-0.
^ath
Gunter, Ann C., and Stefan R. Hauser (eds.): Ernst
Herzfeld and the Development of Near Eastern
Studies, 1900-1950. Leiden: Koninklijke Brill,
2005. 636 pp. ISBN 90-04-14153-7.
Gutmann, Mathias: Erfahren von Erfahrungen. Dialek-
tische Studien zur Grundlegung einer philosophi-
schen Anthropologie; 2 Bde. Bd. 1: Hauptstücke I
und II; Bd. 2; Hauptstücke III und IV. Bielefeld:
transcript Verlag, 2004. 765 pp. ISBN 3-89942-
187-6.
Gutwirth, Jacques: The Rebirth of Hasidism. 1945 to
the Present Day. London: Free Association Books,
2005. 198 pp. ISBN 1-85343-774-3.
Haarmann, Harald: Lexikon der untergegangenen Völ-
ker. Von Akkader bis Zimbern. München; Verlag
C.H. Beck, 2005. 294 pp. ISBN 3-406-52817-1.
(Beck’sehe Reihe, 1643)
Haley, Shawn D., and Kurt Fukuda (eds.): The Day
of the Dead. When Two Worlds Meet in Oaxaca.
New York: Berghahn Books, 2004. 149 pp., photos.
ISBN 1-84545-083-3.
Haller, Dieter, and Cris Shore (eds.): Corruption. An-
thropological Perspectives. London: Pluto Press,
2005. 255 pp. ISBN 0-7453-2157-7.
Halm, Heinz: Die Schiiten. München: Verlag C. H.
Beck, 2005. 128 pp. ISBN 3-406-50858-8. (Beck’-
sche Reihe, 2358)
Harness, Dennis M.: The Nakshatras. The Lunar
Mansions of Vedic Astrology. Reprint. New Del-
hi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 2004. 177 pp.
ISBN 81-208-2068-1.
Hasler, Juan A.: El lenguaje silbado y otros estudios de
idiomas. Cali: Universidad del Valle, 2005. 444 pp.
ISBN 958-670-336-3.
Hatzfeld, Jean: Nur das nackte Leben. Berichte aus den
Sümpfen Ruandas. Gießen: Verlagsgruppe Haland
und Wirth, 2004. 251 pp. ISBN 3-89806-933-8.
Heidemanns, Katja, und Marco Mörschbacher
(Hrsg.): Gott vertrauen? AIDS und Theologie im
südlichen Afrika. Freiburg: Verlag Herder, 2005.
280 pp. ISBN 3-451-28621-1. (Theologie der Drit-
ten Welt, 32)
Heine, Bernd, et Derek Nurse (éds.) : Les langues
africaines. Paris : Éditions Karthala, 2004. 468 pp.
ISBN 2-845586-531-7.
Heiss, Johann (Hrsg.): Veränderung und Stabilität. Nor-
men und Werte in islamischen Gesellschaften. Wien:
Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wis-
senschaften, 2005. 263 pp. ISBN 3-7001-3548-3.
(Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften,
philosophisch-historische Klasse: Sitzungsberich-
te, 729; Veröffentlichungen zur Sozialanthropolo-
gie, 7; Forschungsschwerpunkt Lokale Identitäten
und überlokale Einflüsse, 2)
Henare, Amiria J. M.: Museums, Anthropology, and
Imperial Exchange. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 2005. 323 pp. ISBN 0-521-83591-7.
Henley, David: Fertility, Food, and Fever. Population,
Economy, and Environment in North and Central
Sulawesi, 1600-1930. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2005.
lroPos 101.2006
340
Neue Publikationen
711 pp. ISBN 90-6718-209-5. (Verhandelingen van
het Koninklijk Instituât voor Taal-, Land- en Vol-
kenkunde, 201)
Héritier, Françoise (éd.) : De la violence ; 2 vols. Paris :
Odile Jacob, 2005. 396 pp. ; 350 pp. ISBN 2-7381-
1605-1 ; 2-7381-1625-6.
Herrou, Adeline : La vie entre soi. Les moines taoïstes
aujourd’hui en Chine. Nanterre : Société d’ethno-
logie, 2005. 520 pp. ISBN 2-901161-68-5.
Hertl, Michael: Totenmasken. Was vom Leben und
Sterben bleibt. Stuttgart: Jan Thorbecke Verlag,
2002. 215 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-7995-0099-5.
Die Hethiter und ihr Reich. Das Volk der 1000 Götter.
Katalog zur Ausstellung vom 18. Januar bis 28.
April 2002, Kunst- und Ausstellungshalle der Bun-
desrepublik Deutschland, Bonn. Koordination Jutta
Frings. Darmstadt; Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell-
schaft, 2002. 375 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-534-15936-5.
Hiery, Hermann Joseph: Bilder aus der deutschen Süd-
see. Fotografien 1884-1914. Paderborn: Ferdinand
Schöningh, 2005. 277 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-506-
70112-6.
Hildebrand, Milton, and George E. Goslow: Verglei-
chende und funktionelle Anatomie der Wirbeltiere.
Berlin: Springer-Verlag, 2004. 709 pp. ISBN 3-
540-00757-1.
Hinfelaar, Hugo: History of the Catholic Church in
Zambia, 1895-1995. Lusaka: Bookworld Publish-
ers, 2004. 465 pp. ISBN 9982-24-026-9.
Hirsch, Jennifer S.: A Courtship after Marriage. Sex-
uality and Love in Mexican Transnational Fami-
lies. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003.
376 pp. ISBN 0-520-22871-5.
Hitz, Florian: “Zuerst die Freunde, dann die Frau.”
Verantwortung jemenitischer Männer gegenüber ih-
ren Familien. Eine empirische Untersuchung in der
Altstadt von Sana’a. Berlin; Klaus Schwarz Verlag,
2005. 105 pp. ISBN 3-87997-327-X. (Studies on
Modern Yemen, 7)
Hobart, Angela, and Bruce Kapferer (eds.): Aesthetics
in Performance. Formations of Symbolic Construc-
tion and Experience. New York: Berghahn Books,
2005. 239 pp. ISBN 1-57181-567-8.
Hocart, Arthur Maurice : Au commencement était
le rite. De l’origine des sociétés humaines. Pa-
ris : Éditions La Découverte / M. A. U. S. S., 2005.
224 pp. ISBN 2-7071-4676-5.
Hoek, A. W. van den: Caturmâsa. Celebrations of
Death in Kathmandu, Nepal. Ed. by J. C. Heester-
man etal. Leiden: CNWS Publications, 2004.
188 pp. ISBN 90-5789-098-4.
Holt, John Clifford: The Buddhist Visnu. Religious
Transformation, Politics, and Culture. New York:
Columbia University Press, 2004. 442 pp. ISBN
0-231-13323-5.
Hoops, Johannes: Reallexikon der germanischen Alter-
tumskunde. 2., völlig neu bearb. u. stark erw. Aufl.
Hrsg, von H. Beck et al.; Bd. 28: Seddin - Skirings-
sal. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2005. 645 pp. ISBN
3-11-018207-6.
---- Reallexikon der germanischen Altertumskunde. 2.,
völlig neu bearb. u. stark erw. Aufl. Hrsg, von H.
Beck etal.; Bd. 29: Skirnismal - Stiklestad. Ber-
lin: Walter de Gruyter, 2005. 637 pp. ISBN 3-11-
018360-9.
Hörning, Karl H., und Julia Reuter (Hrsg.): Do-
ing Culture. Neue Positionen zum Verhältnis von
Kultur und sozialer Praxis. Bielefeld; transcript
Verlag, 2004. 261 pp. ISBN 3-89942-243-0.
Hutter, Manfred: Being Hindu in Malaysia. On a Par
with Other Religions or a Cause of Disharmony?
Sep.: Religious Harmony: Problems, Practice, and
Education (Yogyakarta) 2005: 151-160.
Ilahiane, Hsain: Ethnicities, Community Making, and
Agrarian Change. The Political Ecology of a Mo-
roccan Oasis. Lanham: University Press of Ameri-
ca, 2004. 225 pp. ISBN 0-7618-2876-1.
Inda, Jonathan Xavier (ed.): Anthropologies of Moder-
nity. Foucault, Governmentality, and Life Politics.
Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2005. 280 pp. ISBN
0-631-22827-6.
Itier, César : La littérature orale quechua de la région de
Cuzco, Pérou. Paris : Éditions Karthala ; INALCO,
2004. 239 pp. ISBN 2-84586-593-7. (Paroles en
miroir, 2)
Jaeger, Friedrich, und Jürgen Straub (Hrsg.): Was
ist der Mensch, was Geschichte? Annäherungen an
eine kulturwissenschaftliche Anthropologie. Jörn
Rüsen zum 65. Geburtstag. Bielefeld: transcript
Verlag, 2005. 378 pp. ISBN 3-89942-266-X.
Janosi, Peter: Die Pyramiden. Mythos und Archäolo-
gie. München: Verlag C. H. Beck, 2004. 127 pp-
ISBN 3-406-50831-6. (Beck’sehe Reihe, 2331)
Jardin Japonais. Éd. par Monique Crick. Genève:
Musée des Arts d’Extrême-Orient, 2005. 47 pp., ph-
(Collection Baur, Bulletin, 66)
Jäschke, Ernst: Unterwegs. Berufen - gesandt - g6'
tragen. Ein Missionarsleben im XX. Jahrhundert-
Neuendettelsau: Erlanger Verlag für Mission und
Ökumene, 2001. 428 pp. ISBN 3-87214-518-5.
Jebens, Holger: Pathways to Heaven. Contesting Main-
line and Fundamentalist Christianity in Papua Ne^'
Guinea. New York: Berghahn Books, 2005. 284 pp-
ISBN 1-84545-005-1.
Jones, Adam, and Peter Sebald (eds.): An African
Family Archive. The Lawsons of Little Popo/Ane-
ho (Togo) 1841-1938. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2005. 566 pp. ISBN 0-19-726308-9.
Jones, David M., und Brian L. Molyneaux: Die
Mythologie der Neuen Welt. Die Enzyklopadj6
über Götter, Geister und mythische Stätten 111
Nord-, Meso- und Südamerika. Reichelsheim: Edi
tion XXL, 2002. 240 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-89736'
313-5.
Kaberry, Phyllis M.: Women of the Grassfields.
Study of the Economic Position of Women
Bamenda, British Cameroons. London: Routledg6,
2004. 220 pp. ISBN 0-415-32000-3. . j
Kanogo, Tabitha; African Womanhood in Colotlia
Kenya, 1900-50. Oxford; James Currey; AthenS
lOl-20°6
Anthropos
Neue Publikationen
341
Ohio University Press, 2005. 268 pp. ISBN 0-
85255-445-1; ISBN 0-8214-1568-9.
Kapfer, Reinhard: Die Frauen von Maroua. Liebe,
Sexualität und Heirat in Nordkamerun. Wuppertal:
Peter Hammer Verlag, 2005. 188 pp. ISBN 3-7795-
0033-7.
Karjalainens, K. F.: K. F. Karjalainens südostjakische
Textsammlungen; vol. 3: Kommentare zu den Tex-
ten von Edith Vertes. Helsinki; Finnisch-Ugrische
Gesellschaft, 2004. 388 pp. ISBN 952-5150-69-0.
(Mémoires de la Société Finno-Ougrienne, 247)
Käser, Lothar: Fremde Kulturen. Eine Einführung in
die Ethnologie für Entwicklungshelfer und kirch-
liche Mitarbeiter in Übersee. 3. Aufl. Neuendet-
telsau: Erlanger Verlag für Mission und Ökume-
ne; Bad Liebenzell: Verlag der Liebenzeller Missi-
on, 2005. 342 pp. ISBN 3-87214-287-9; ISBN 3-
921113-84-9.
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Properties of Culture - Culture
as Property. Pathways to Reform in Post-Soviet
Siberia. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2004.
323 pp. ISBN 3-496-02768-1.
-— Rebuilding Identities. Pathways to Reform in Post-
Soviet Siberia. Berlin; Dietrich Reimer Verlag,
2005. 280 pp. ISBN 3-496-02778-9.
Kawano, Satsuki: Ritual Practice in Modern Japan.
Ordering Place, People, and Action. Honolulu:
University of Hawai’i Press, 2005. 152 pp. ISBN
0-8248-2934-4.
Keck, Verena: Social Discord and Bodily Disorders.
Healing among the Yupno of Papua New Guinea.
Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2005. 336 pp.
ISBN 0-89089-404-3.
Kelly, William W. (ed.): Fanning the Flames. Fans and
Consumer Culture in Contemporary Japan. Albany:
SUNY Press, 2004. 202 pp. ISBN 0-7914-6032-0.
Kenny, Anna, and Scott Mitchell (eds.): Collaboration
and Language. Alice Springs: Northern Territory
Government, 2005. 102 pp. ISSN 1327-9858. (Oc-
casional Paper, 4)
Kepel, Gilles: The War for Muslim Minds. Islam and
the West. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Har-
vard University Press, 2004. 327 pp. ISBN 0-674-
01575-4.
Ketan, Joseph: The Name Must Not Go Down. Political
Competition and State-Society Relations in Mount
Hagen, Papua New Guinea. Suva: Institute of
Pacific Studies, University of the South Pacific,
2004. 437 pp. ISBN 982-02-0352-X.
^han, Dominique-Sila: Crossing the Threshold. Un-
derstanding Religious Identities in South Asia.
London: LB. Tauris Publishers, 2004. 185pp.
ISBN 1-85043-435-2.
leI> Albrecht: Fünf Kausalitätsformen zwischen Zu-
fall und Wirklichkeit. Wege von den Naturwissen-
schaften zur Anthropologie. Würzburg: Ergon Ver-
lag, 2005. 301 pp. ISBN 3-89913-444-3. (Spektrum
Philosophie, 27)
Hodong: Holy War in China. The Muslim Rebel-
lion and State in Chinese Central Asia, 1864-1877.
Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2004. 295 pp.
ISBN 0-8047-4884-5.
Kishigami, Nobuhiro, and James M. Savelle (eds.):
Indigenous Use and Management of Marine Re-
sources. Osaka: National Museum of Ethnology,
2005. 455 pp. ISBN 4-901906-29-1. (Senri Ethno-
logical Studies, 67)
Kment, Patric: Afirikä yeye mi! Meine Mutter Afrika!
Reafrikanisierung, kulturelle Expansion und Trans-
formation der Örishä-Religion Trinidads. Geschich-
te und Grundlagen der Veränderungsprozesse ei-
ner afroamerikanischen Religion im Spannungsfeld
von Eklektizismus, Synkretismus und Reafrikani-
sierung. Wien: Lit Verlag, 2005. 227 pp. ISBN 3-
8258-7262-9. (Afrika und ihre Diaspora, 4)
Knab, Timothy J.; Mad Jesus. The Final Testament
of a Huichol Messiah from Northwest Mexico.
Albuquerque; University of New Mexico Press,
2004. 279 pp. ISBN 0-8263-3204-8.
Knecht, Michi, und Levent Soysal (Hrsg.): Plausible
Vielfalt. Wie der Karneval der Kulturen denkt, lernt
und Kultur schafft. Berlin: Panama Verlag, 2005.
284 pp. ISBN 3-938714-01-8.
Knighton, Ben: The Vitality of Karamojong Religion.
Dying Tradition or Living Faith? Aldershot: Ash-
gate Publishing, 2005.349 pp. ISBN 0-7546-0383-0.
Koch, Angela (Hrsg.): Xenopolis. Von der Faszination
und Ausgrenzung des Fremden in München. Eine
Veröffentlichung im Auftrag des Kulturreferats der
Landeshauptstadt München. Berlin: Metropol Ver-
lag, 2005. 384 pp. ISBN 3-936411-74-3.
Köhler, Florian: Jahre in Nso. Begegnungen in Kame-
run. Leipzig: Museum für Völkerkunde, Grassimu-
seum, 2003. 36 pp., 1 CD-ROM. ISBN 3-910031-
32-2.
Kok, Bregje de: Christianity and African Traditional
Religion. Two Realities of a Different Kind. A
Cultural Psychological Study of the Way Chris-
tian Malawians Account for Their Involvement in
African Traditional Religion. Zomba; Kachere Se-
ries, 2005. 119 pp. ISBN 99908-76-17-7. (Sources
for the Study of Religion in Malawi, 19)
Konner, Melvin: Unsettled. An Anthropology of the
Jews. London: Penguin Compass, 2003. 500 pp.
ISBN 0-14-219632-0.
Köpke, Wulf, und Bernd Schmelz (Hrsg.): Die Welt
des tibetischen Buddhismus. Hamburg: Museum
für Völkerkunde, 2005. 1039 pp. ISBN 3-9809222-
4-3. (Mitteilungen aus dem Museum für Völker-
kunde Hamburg, Neue Folge, 36)
Krone und Schleier. Kunst aus mittelalterlichen Frau-
enklöstern. Katalog zur Ausstellung: Die frühen
Klöster und Stifte 500-1200, Ruhrlandmuseum,
Essen; Die Zeit der Orden 1200-1500, Kunst- und
Ausstellungshalle der Bundesrepublik Deutschland,
Bonn. Koordination Jutta Frings und Jan Gerchow.
München: Hirmer Verlag, 2005. 583 pp., Fotos.
ISBN 3-7774-2565-6.
Krupnik, Igor, etal. (eds.): Northern Ethnographie
Landscapes. Perspective from Circumpolar Na-
Vh
,ropos 101.2006
342
Neue Publikationen
tions. Washington: Arctic Studies Center, Smith-
sonian Institution, 2004. 415 pp., photos. ISBN 0-
9673429-7-X. (Contributions to Circumpolar An-
thropology, 6)
Kurasawa, Fuyuki: The Ethnological Imagination. A
Cross-Cultural Critique of Modernity. Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 2004. 249 pp. ISBN
0-8166-4240-0. (Contradictions, 21)
Kusimba, C. M., etal. (eds.); Unwrapping the Textile
Traditions of Madagascar. Los Angeles: UCLA
Fowler Museum of Cultural History, 2004. 196 pp.,
photos. ISBN 0-930741-95-1. (UCLA Fowler Mu-
seum of Cultural History Textile Series, 7)
Kwak, Misook: Das Todesverständnis der koreanischen
Kultur. Der Umgang der koreanischen Christen-
heit mit dem Tod im Licht der biblisch-theolo-
gischen Tradition. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2004.
298 pp. ISBN 3-631-53245-8. (Internationale Theo-
logie, 11)
Lachnitt, Georg: Damreme’Uwaimramidzé. Estudos
sistemáticos e comparativos de gramática Xavante.
2a ed. experimental. Campo Grande: Editora Uni-
versidade Católica Dom Bosco, 1999. 202 pp.
Lai, Brij V. (ed.): Bittersweet. The Indo-Fijian Expe-
rience. Canberra; Pandanus Books, 2004. 407 pp.
ISBN 1-74076-117-0.
---- Pacific Places, Pacific Histories. Essays in Honor of
Robert C. Kiste. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i
Press, 2004. 345 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2748-1.
Lamoureux, Patricia, and Kevin J. O’Neil (eds.):
Seeking Goodness and Beauty. The Use of the
Arts in Theological Ethics. Lanham: Rowman &
Littlefield, 2005. 172 pp. ISBN 0-7425-3210-0.
Lanik, Monika: Freie Bürger und Freimaurerinnen.
Lokalpolitik am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts. Berlin:
Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2003. 285 pp. ISBN 3-496-
02760-6.
Lapatin, Kenneth: Mysteries of the Snake Goddess.
Art, Desire, and the Forging of History. Cam-
bridge: Da Capo Press, 2003. 274 pp. ISBN 0-306-
81328-9.
Lardellier, Pascal (éd.) : Des cultures et des hommes.
Clés anthropologiques pour la mondalisation. Pa-
ris : L’Harmattan, 2005. 211pp. ISBN 2-7475-
8304-X.
Lassiter, Luke Eric: The Chicago Guide to Collab-
orative Ethnography. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 2005. 201 pp. ISBN 0-226-46890-9.
Learman, Linda (ed.): Buddhist Missionaries in the Era
of Globalization. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i
Press, 2005. 245 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2810-0.
Lebra, Takie Sugiyama: The Japanese Self in Cultur-
al Logic. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press,
2004. 303 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2840-2.
Lecouteux, Claude: Eine Welt im Abseits. Zur niede-
ren Mythologie und Glaubens weit des Mittelalters.
Dettelbach: Verlag J. H. Roll, 2000. 196 pp. ISBN
3-89754-154-8. (Quellen und Forschungen zur eu-
ropäischen Ethnologie, 22)
Lee-Kalisch, Jeong-Hee, und Wolfgang Fritz: Korea.
München: Hirmer Verlag, 2002. 216 pp., Fotos.
ISBN 3-7774-9350-3.
Lenaerts, Marc : Anthropologie des Indiens Ashéninka
d’Amazonie. Nos sœurs Manioc et l’étranger Ja-
guar. Paris: L’Harmattan, 2004. 273pp. ISBN 2-
7475-7832-1.
Lester, Rebecca J.: Jesus in Our Wombs. Embody-
ing Modernity in a Mexican Convent. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2005. 344 pp. ISBN
0-520-24268-8.
Levy, André, and Alex Weingrod (eds.): Homelands
and Diasporas. Holy Lands and Other Places.
Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005. 362 pp.
ISBN 0-8047-5079-3.
Lewis, E. D. (ed.): Timothy Asch and Ethnographic
Film. London: Routledge, 2004. 297 pp. ISBN 0-
415-32774-1. (Studies in Visual Culture, 3)
Lewis, Reina: Rethinking Orientalism. Women, Travel,
and the Ottoman Harem. London; I. B. Tauris,
2004. 297 pp. ISBN 1-86064-730-8. (Library of
Ottoman Studies, 4)
Liberski-Bagnoud, Danouta : Les dieux du territoire.
Penser autrement la généalogie. Paris : CNRS Edi-
tions ; Editions de la Maison des sciences de
l’homme, 2002. 244 pp. ISBN 2-271-06014-1;
ISBN 2-7351-0957-7.
Linger, Daniel Touro: Anthropology through a Double
Lens. Public and Personal Worlds in Human Theo-
ry. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press,
2005. 236 pp. ISBN 0-8122-3857-5.
Loimeier, Roman, et al. (Hrsg.): Globalisierung im
lokalen Kontext. Perspektiven und Konzepte von
Handeln in Afrika. Münster; Lit Verlag, 2005.
347 pp. ISBN 3-8258-6893-0. (Beiträge zur Afri-
kaforschung, 20)
Lopez Beltran, Clara, y Akira Saito (eds.); Usos del
documente y cambios sociales en la historia de Bo-
livia. Osaka: National Museum of Ethnology, 2005-
150 pp. ISBN 4-901906-32-1. (Senri Ethnological
Studies, 68)
Lorenz, Sönke, etal. (Hrsg.): Wider alle Hexerei
und Teufelswerk. Die europäische Hexenverfol'
gung und ihre Auswirkungen auf Südwestdeutsch-
land. Stuttgart: Jan Thorbecke Verlag, 2004. 668 pp-
ISBN 3-7995-0137-1.
Löschmann, Jörg (ed.): Identities versus Globalisa'
tion? Chiang Mai: Heinrich-Böll-Foundation, 2004
207 pp., photos.
Lugira, Aloysius M.: African Religion. Rev. ed. Ne^
York; Facts On File, 2004. 144 pp. ISBN 0-8160-
5729-X. (World Religion Series)
Lüke, Ulrich, etal. (Hrsg.): Darwin und Gott. Das
Verhältnis von Evolution und Religion. Darmstadt.
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2004. 183 pP'
ISBN 3-534-17535-2.
Lukens-Bull, Ronald: A Peaceful Jihad. Negotiating
Identity and Modernity in Muslim Java. New York-
Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. 152 pp. ISBN 1-4039
6660-5.
Lurker, Manfred: Lexikon der Götter und Symbo e
Anthropos 101-2006
Neue Publikationen
343
der alten Ägypter. Neuausg. Frankfurt: Fischer
Taschenbuch Verlag, 2005. 254 pp. ISBN 3-596-
16693-4. (Taschenbuch, 16693)
Lütkehaus, Ludger (Hrsg.): “Dieses wahre innere Afri-
ka.” Texte zur Entdeckung des Unbewussten vor
Freud. Gießen; Psychosozial-Verlag, 2005. 254 pp.
ISBN 3-89806-397-6.
Lynch, Patricia Ann: African Mythology A to Z. New
York: Facts On File, 2004. 137 pp. ISBN 0-8160-
4892-4.
Mabona, Mongameli: Diviners and Prophets among the
Xhosa (1593-1856). A Study in Xhosa Cultural
History. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 463 pp. ISBN
3-8258-6700-5.
Macedo, Bispo: Doutrinas da Igreja Universal do Rei-
no de Deus; 3 vols. Rio de Janeiro: Grâfica
Universal, 1998; 1999; 2000. 108 pp.; 116 pp.;
99 pp. ISBN 85-7140-052-0; 85-7140-070-9; 85-
7140-105-5.
Macedo, Edir: Aliança com Deus. Rio de Janeiro:
Grâfica Universal, 2004. 205 pp. ISBN 85-7140-
349-X.
McKinnon, Susan, and Sydel Silverman (eds.): Com-
plexifies. Beyond Nature and Nurture. Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 2005. 330 pp.
ISBN 0-226-50024-1.
McKnight, David: Of Marriage, Violence, and Sorcery.
The Quest for Power in Northern Queensland.
Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2005. 259 pp. ISBN
0-7546-4465-0.
Macri, Martha J., and Matthew G. Looper: The
New Catalogue of Maya Hieroglyphs; vol. 1; The
Classic Period Inscriptions. Norman: University
of Oklahoma Press, 2005. 375 pp. ISBN 0-8061-
3497-6. (The Civilization of the American Indian
Series, 247)
Hadan, T. N. (ed.): India’s Religions. Perspectives
from Sociology and History. New Delhi: Ox-
ford University Press, 2004. 428 pp. ISBN 0-19-
566829-4.
Madison, D. Soyini: Critical Ethnography. Method,
Ethics, and Performance. Thousand Oaks: Sage
Publications, 2005. 245 pp. ISBN 0-7619-2916-9.
Mafundikwa, Saki: Afrikan Alphabets. The Story of
Writing in Africa. West New York: Mark Batty
Publishers, 2004. 171 pp. ISBN 0-9724240-6-7.
ahlke, Kirsten: Offenbarung im Westen. Frühe Be-
richte aus der Neuen Welt. Frankfurt: Fischer
Taschenbuch Verlag, 2005. 349 pp. ISBN 3-596-
. > 16235-1. (Taschenbuch, 16235)
Larry L., etal: The Cambridge Dictionary of
Human Biology and Evolution. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2005. 648 pp. ISBN 0-521-
M 66486-i.
arston, John, and Elizabeth Gutrie (eds.): Histo-
ry, Buddhism, and New Religious Movements in
Cambodia. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press,
^ 2004. 260 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2868-2.
arrin, Jeannett: Been-To, Burger, Transmigranten?
Zur Bildungsmigration von Ghanaern und ihrer
Rückkehr aus der Bundesrepublik Deutschland.
Münster: Lit Verlag, 2005. 329 pp. ISBN 3-8258-
8079-6. (Beiträge zur Afrikaforschung, 22)
Matos Moctezuma, Eduardo: Los Aztecas. México;
Conacuita, 2000. 239 pp., fotos. ISBN 970-18-
5314-8.
Maurieres, Arnaud, etal. : Reines de Saba. Itinéraires
textiles au Yémen - Reinas de Saba. Itinerarios
textiles en el Yemen. Aix-en-Provence : Édisud,
2003. 176 pp., ph. ISBN 2-7449-0433-3.
Mauss, Marcel: On Prayer. Ed. by W. S. F. Pickering.
New York: Durkheim Press / Berghahn Books,
2003. 158 pp. ISBN 1-57181-633-X.
Mauzé, Marie, etal. (eds.): Coming to Shore. North-
west Coast Ethnology, Traditions, and Visions. Lin-
coln; University of Nebraska Press. 2004. 508 pp.
ISBN 0-8032-8296-6.
Mead, Margaret: The World Ahead. An Anthropolo-
gist Anticipates the Future. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2005. 348 pp. ISBN 1-57181-818-9. (Mar-
garet Mead: The Study of Contemporary Western
Culture, 6)
Menschenrechte. Jahrbuch Mission 2005. Red. durch
Frank Kürschner-Pelkmann. Hamburg: Missions-
hilfe Verlag, 2005. 336 pp. ISBN 3-921620-70-8.
Michels, Stefanie: Imagined Power Contested. Germans
and Africans in the Upper Cross River Area of
Cameroon, 1887-1915. Münster; Lit Verlag, 2004.
430 pp. ISBN 3-8258-6850-8. (Encounters / Begeg-
nungen, 2)
Miller, Daniel (ed.): Materiality. Durham: Duke Uni-
versity Press, 2005. 294 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3542-5.
Miller, Mark Edwin: Forgotten Tribes. Unrecognized
Indians and the Federal Acknowledgement Pro-
cess. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2004.
355 pp. ISBN 0-8032-3226-8.
Mines, Diane P.: Fierce Gods. Inequality, Ritual, and
the Politics of Dignity in a South Indian Vil-
lage. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005.
247 pp. ISBN 0-253-21765-2.
Miyazaki, Koji (ed.): Dynamics of Border Societies in
Southeast Asia. Tokyo: ILCAA, Tokyo University
of Foreign Studies, 2004. 261 pp. ISBN 4-87297-
899-4.
Mohanty, Bijoy Chandra: Ikat Fabrics of Orissa and
Andhra Pradesh. 2., rev. ed. Ahmedabad; Sara-
bhai Foundation, 2003. 212 pp., photos. ISBN 81-
86980-17-2.
Mohanty, Scema: The Book of Kali. New Delhi: Vi-
king/Penguin, 2004. 147 pp. ISBN 0-67-005773-8.
Molder, Hedwig te, and Jonathan Potter (eds.):
Conversation and Cognition. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2005. 284 pp. ISBN 0-521-
79369-6.
Mong, Sai Kam: The History and Development of the
Shan Scripts. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2004.
374 pp. ISBN 974-9575-50-4.
Mora Vázquez, Teresa, y María Sara Molinari Soria-
no: Tradición e identidad. Semana santa en Yan-
huitlán, Oaxaca. México: INAH; Plaza y Valdés,
344
2002. 110 pp. ISBN 970-18-8310-1; ISBN 970-
722-089-9.
Moraes, Fernando Oliveira de: A festa do divino
em mogi das cruzes. Folclore e massificafäo na
sociedade contemporánea. Säo Paulo: Annablume
editora, 2003. 156 pp. ISBN 85-7419-384-4.
Moreau, Filipe Eduardo: Os indios ñas cartas de
Nóbrega e Anchieta. Säo Paulo: Annablume edi-
tora, 2003. 355 pp. ISBN 85-7419-385-2.
Morgenthaler, Fritz: Psychoanalyse, Traum, Ethnolo-
gie. Vermischte Schriften. Hrsg, von Judith Valk.
Gießen: Psychosozial-Verlag, 2005. 245 pp. ISBN
3-89806-471-9.
Moses, A. Dirk (ed.): Genocide and Settler Society.
Frontier Violence and Stolen Indigenous Children
in Australian History. Pbk. ed. New York: Berg-
bahn Books, 2005. 325 pp. ISBN 1-57181-411-6.
(Studies on War and Genocide, 6)
Moura, Carlos Eugenio Marcondes de (org.): As sen-
horas do pássaro da noite. Escritos sobre a religiäo
dos Orixás V. Säo Paulo: Edusp; Axis Mundi
Editora, 2003. 248 pp. ISBN 85-314-0214-X; ISBN
85-85554-26-6.
Mrázek, Jan: Phenomenology of a Puppet Theatre.
Contemplations on the Art of Javanese wayang
Kulit. Leiden; KITLV Press, 2005. 567 pp. ISBN
90-6718-252-4. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
lijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- and Volkenkunde,
230)
Muecke, Stephen: Ancient and Modern. Time, Culture,
and Indigenous Philosophy. Sydney: UNSW Press,
2004. 197 pp. ISBN 0-86840-786-0.
Müller, Daniela: “Ketzerinnen” - Frauen gehen ihren
eigenen Weg. Vom Leben und Sterben der Katha-
rerinnen im 13. und 14. Jahrhundert. Würzburg:
Religion und Kultur Verlag, 2004. 287 pp. ISBN
3-933891-11-6.
Müller, Telmo Lauro: 175 anos de imigraqäo alemä.
Porto Alegre: Edifòes Est, 2001. 109 pp.
Munduruku, Daniel: O banquete dos deuses. Conversa
sobre a origem da cultura brasileira. Säo Paulo:
Editora Angra, 2000. 126 pp. ISBN 85-85969-15-6.
(Coleqäo Jovem Século, 21)
Murray, Colin, and Peter Sanders: Medicine Murder
in Colonial Lesotho. The Anatomy of a Moral
Crisis. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press,
2005. 493 pp. ISBN 0-7486-2284-5. (International
African Library, 31)
Nascimento, Elisa Larkin: O sortilègio da cor. Identi-
dade, raqa e gènero no Brasil. Sao Paulo: Summus
Editorial, 2003. 413 pp. ISBN 85-87478-23-0.
Neich, Roger, and Mick Pendergrast: Pacific Tapa.
Photography by Krzystof Pfeiffer. Repr. Honolulu:
University of Hawai’i Press, 2004. 160 pp., photos.
ISBN 0-8248-2929-8.
The New Encyclopaedia Britannica. 33 vols., 15th,
updated ed. Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica,
2003. ISBN 0-85229-961-3.
Nott, J. C., and Geo. R. Giddon: Encyclopaedia of
Ethnology. Types of Mankind. Researches Based
Neue Publikationen
upon Ancient Monuments, Paintings, Sculptures,
and Crania of Races and upon Their Natural,
Geographical, Philological, and Biblical History;
3 vols. New Delhi: Cosmo Publications, 2005.
905 pp. ISBN 81-307-0069-7.
Ntukula, Mary, and Tita Liljeström (eds.): Umleavyo.
The Dilemma of Parenting. Uppsala; Nordiska Af-
rikainstitutet, 2004. 152 pp. ISBN 91-7105-522-9.
Nyasulu, Timothy: Missiology. A Study of the Spread
of the Christian Faith. Zomba: Kachere Series,
2004. 112 pp. ISBN 99908-76-07-X. (Kachere
Tools, 2)
Obeyesekere, Gananath: Cannibal Talk. The Man-Eat-
ing-Myth and Human Sacrifice in the South Seas.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005.
320 pp. ISBN 0-520-24308-0.
O’Brien, Derek (ed.): The Penguin India Reference
Yearbook 2005. New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2005.
973 pp. ISBN 0-14-303247-X.
Ochoa Abaurre, Juan Carlos: Mito y chamanismo en
el Amazonas. Pamplona: Ediciones Funate, 2003.
198 pp. ISBN 84-7768-142-2.
Ochsenschlager, Edward L.: Iraq’s Marsh Arabs in
the Garden of Eden. Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthro-
pology, 2004. 285 pp. ISBN 1-931707-74-X.
Olujubu, Oyeronke: Women in the Yoruba Religious
Sphere. Albany: SUNY Press, 2003. 172 pp. ISBN
0-7914-5886-5.
Partridge, Christopher (ed.): New Religions. A Guide.
New Religious Movements, Sects, and Alternative
Spiritualities. New York; Oxford University Press,
2004. 446 pp. ISBN 0-19-522042-0.
Pechilis, Karen (ed.): The Graceful Guru. Hindu Fe-
male Gurus in India and the United States. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2004. 260 pp. ISBN 0-19'
514538-0.
Peers, Chris, and Raffaele Ruggeri: Warrior People8
of East Africa, 1840-1900. Oxford: Osprey Pub-
lishing, 2005. 48 pp., photos. ISBN 1-84176-778-6-
(Men-at-Arms, 411)
Pereira, Magali Cecili Surjus: Meninas e meninos
kaingáng. O processo de socializaqäo. Londrina:
Editora UEL, 1998. 158 pp. ISBN 85-7216-144-9-
Pérez, Elvia: From the Winds of Manguito. Cuban
Folktales in English and Spanish - Desde los vien-
tos de Manguito. Cuban Folktales in English and
Spanish - Cuentos folklóristicos de Cuba, en i0'
glés y español. Ed. by Margaret Read Macdonald-
Westport: Libraries Unlimited, 2004. 157 pp. ISBN
1-59158-091-9.
Perez, Gina M.: The Near Northwest Side Story. M*'
gration, Displacement, and Puerto Rican Famih68’
Berkeley: University of California Press, 200
276 pp. ISBN 0-520-23368-9.
Pérez Galán, Beatriz: Somos como Incas. Autoridad^8
tradicionales en los Andes peruanos, Cuzco. l^a
drid: Iberoamericana; Frankfurt: Verwuert, 200 ■
270 pp. ISBN 84-8489-163-1; ISBN 3-86527-172-4
Perlmutter, Dawn: Investigating Religious Terrorism
101-2006
Anthropos
Neue Publikationen
345
and Ritualistic Crimes. Boca Raton: CRC Press,
2004. 453 pp. ISBN 0-8493-1034-2.
Peteet, Julie: Landscape of Hope and Despair. Pales-
tinian Refugee Camps. Philadelphia; University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2005. 260 pp. ISBN 0-8122-
3893-1.
Philbrick, Nathaniel: Sea of Glory. America’s Voy-
age of Discovery, the U.S. Exploring Expedi-
tion, 1838-1842. London: Penguin Books, 2003.
452 pp. ISBN 0-1420-0483-9.
Piepke, Joachim G.: The Anthropos Institute. The Task
of Basic Research in Mission. Sep.: Verbum svd
(Nettetal) 2005; 179-192.
Piette, Albert : Le temps du deuil. Essai d’anthropolo-
gie existentielle. Paris : Les Éditions de l’Atelier /
Éditions Ouvrières, 2005. 125 pp. ISBN 2-7082-
3831-0.
Pinch, Geraldine: Egyptian Myth. A Very Short In-
troduction. Oxford; Oxford University Press, 2004.
143 pp. ISBN 0-19-280346-8. (Very Short Intro-
ductions, 106)
Pitts, Victoria L.: In the Flesh. The Cultural Politics of
Body Modification. New York: Palgrave Macmil-
lan, 2003. 239 pp. ISBN 0-312-29311-9.
Poirier, Sylvie: A World of Relationships. Itineraries,
Dreams, and Events in the Australian Western
Desert. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005.
303 pp. ISBN 0-8020-8414-1.
P°mpa, Cristina: Religiâ como traduçào. Missionaries,
Tupi e “Tapuia” no Brasil colonial. Bauru: EDUSC,
2003. 443 pp. ISBN 85-7460-213-2.
Powell, Joseph F.: The First Americans. Race, Evo-
lution, and the Origin of Native Americans. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. 268 pp.
ISBN 0-521-53035-0.
Pfobiesch, Kerstin: Louis Farrakhan und die Nation of
Islam. Marburg: Philipps-Universität, 2000. 95 pp.
ISSN 0174-5603. (Africana Marburgensia, Sonder-
heft, 18)
r°bst, Peter: Kalumbas Fest. Lokalität, Geschichte
und rituelle Praxis in Malawi. Münster: Lit Verlag,
2005. 370 pp. ISBN 3-8258-6981-4. (Beiträge zur
Afrikaforschung, 19)
r°bst, Peter, and Gerd Spittler (eds.): Between Re-
sistance and Expansion. Explorations of Local Vi-
tality in Africa. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 470 pp.
ISBN 3-8258-6980-6. (Beiträge zur Afrikafor-
schung, 18)
rudhomme, Claude : Missions chrétiennes et coloni-
sation, XVIe-XXe siècle. Paris : Les Éditions du
j» Cerf, 2004. 172 pp. ISBN 2-204-07535-3.
Uccio, Deborah : Masques et dévoilements. Jeux du
féminin dans les rituels carnavalesques et nuptiaux.
Paris : CNRS Éditions, 2002. 236 pp. ISBN 2-271-
05996-8.
Urb Shalini: The Caribbean Postcolonial. Social Equal-
ly, Post-Nationalism, and Cultural Hybridity. New
York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004. 300 pp. ISBN
K 3'4039-6182-4.
^siaeinen, Ilkka: Magic, Miracles, and Religion. A
Anthropos 101.2006
Scientist’s Perspective. Walnut Creek: AltaMira
Press, 2004. 277 pp. ISBN 0-7591-0663-0.
Randrianja, Solofo (ed.) : Madagascar. Ethnies et eth-
nicité. Dakar: CODESRIA, 2004. 307pp. ISBN
2-86978-133-4.
Ranke, Kurt: Enzyklopädie des Märchens. Handwörter-
buch zur historischen und vergleichenden Erzähl-
forschung; Bd. 11; Prüfung - Schimäremärchen.
Hrsg, von Rolf Wilhelm Brednich. Berlin: Walter
de Gruyter, 2004. 1446 Sp. ISBN 3-11-017565-7.
Rao, P. Venkata: Dimensions of Transformation in
Tribal Societies. With Reference to Andhra Pradesh.
New Delhi: Samp, 2004. 199 pp. ISBN 81-7625-
505-X.
Reader, Ian: Making Pilgrimages. Meaning and Prac-
tice in Shikoku. Honolulu; University of Hawai’i
Press, 2005. 350 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2876-3.
Redclift, Nanneke (ed.): Contesting Moralities. Sci-
ence, Identity, Conflict. London: UCL Press, 2005.
200 pp. ISBN 1-84472-014-4.
Reid, Anthony: An Indonesian Frontier. Acehnese and
Other Histories of Sumatra. Singapore: Singapore
University Press, 2005. 439 pp. ISBN 9971-69-
298-8.
Reiter, Susanne: Die beiden Michelsberger Anlagen
von Bruchsal “Aue” und “Scheelkopf’. Zwei un-
gleiche Nachbarn. Stuttgart; Konrad Theiss Verlag,
2005. 377 pp., Fotos, Beilage 1-4. ISBN 3-8062-
1739-4. (Materialhefte zur Archäologie in Baden
Württemberg, 65)
Renard-Casewitz, France-Marie, y Cristóbal Pacaia
(org.): Yavireri inti Yayenshi Igíane - El dios Yabi-
reri y su cargado Yayenshi, Edición bilingue Matsi-
guenga-Español. Lima: IFEA, 2004. 161 pp. ISBN
9972-627-59-4. (Colección Biblioteca Andina del
Bolsillo, 21)
Rennstich, Karl Wilhelm: Schamanismus. Die Re-
ligion der Rungus-Dusun in Malaysia. Münster:
Lit Verlag, 2004. 185 pp. ISBN 3-8258-6800-1.
(Religionswissenschaft, 5)
Revollo Fernández, Antonio: Apuntes del “Carnaval
Sagrado” de Oruro. Obra maestra del patrimonio
oral e intangible de la humanidad. Oruro: Latinas
Editores, 2003. 215 pp. ISBN 99905-46-70-3.
Reycraft, Richard Martin (ed.): Us and Them. Archae-
ology and Ethnicity in the Andes. Los Angeles:
Cotsen Institute of Archaeology at UCLA, 2005.
242 pp. ISBN 1-931745-17-X. (Monograph, 53)
Riegler, Johanna (Hrsg.): Kulturelle Dynamik der Glo-
balisierung. Ost- und Westeuropäische Transfor-
mationsprozesse aus sozialanthropologischer Per-
spektive. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Aka-
demie der Wissenschaften, 2005. 305 pp. ISBN 3-
7001-3547-8. (Österreichische Akademie der Wis-
senschaften, philosophisch-historische Klasse; Sit-
zungsberichte, 728; Veröffentlichungen zur Sozial-
anthropologie, 6; Forschungsschwerpunkt Lokale
Identität und überlokale Einflüsse, 1)
Rihtman-Augustin, Dunja: Ethnology, Myth, and Pol-
itics. Anthropologizing Croatian Ethnology. Ed. by
346
Neue Publikationen
Jasna Capo Zmegac. Aldershot: Ashgate Publish-
ing, 2004. 144 pp. ISBN 0-7546-4039-6.
Rio, Ignacio del: El régimen Jesuítico de la antigua Ca-
lifornia. Mexico: Universidad Nacional Autónoma
de México, 2003. 247 pp. ISBN 970-32-1166-6.
(Historio Novohispana, 69)
Ríos Figueroa, Julio: Siglo XX. Muerte y resurrección
de la Iglesia Católica en Chiapas. Dos estudios
históricos. San Cristóbal de Las Casas: UNAM,
2002. 275 pp. ISBN 968-36-9844-1. (Ensayos, 2)
Rivinius, Karl Josef: Im Dienst der Mission und der
Wissenschaft. Zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Zeit-
schrift Anthropos. Fribourg: Academic Press Fri-
bourg Switzerland, 2005. 352 pp. ISBN 3-7278-
1528-0. (Studia Institut! Anthropos, 51)
Robbins, Joel: Becoming Sinners. Christianity and
Moral Torment in a Papua New Guinea Society.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004.
383 pp. ISBN 0-520-23800-1. (Ethnographic Stud-
ies in Subjectivity, 4)
Robbins, Joel, and Holy Warlow (eds.): The Making
of Global and Local Modernities in Melanesia.
Humiliation, Transformation, and the Nature of
Cultural Change. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing,
2005. 227 pp. ISBN 0-7546-4312-3.
Robins, Steven L. (ed.): Limits to Liberation after
Apartheid. Citizenship, Governance, and Culture.
Oxford: James Currey; Athens: Ohio University
Press; Cape Town: David Philip, 2005. 246 pp.
ISBN 0-85255-878-3; ISBN 0-8214-1666-9; ISBN
0-86486-674-7.
Robinson, Michael D.: The Storms of Providence.
Navigating the Waters of Calvinism, Arminianism,
and Open Theism. Dallas: University Press of
America, 2003. 302 pp. ISBN 0-7618-2737-4.
Robinson, Rowena: Tremors of Violence. Muslim
Surviers of Ethnic Strife in Western India. New
Delhi: Sage Publications, 2005. 262 pp. ISBN 0-
7619-3408-1.
Rodgers, Susan: Print, Poetics, and Politics. A Suma-
tran Epic in the Colonial Indies and New Order In-
donesia. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2005. 276 pp. ISBN
90-6718-233-8. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
liik Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde,
225)
Sahlberg, Oskar N.: Reisen zu Gott und Rückkehr ins
Leben. Tiefenpsychologie der religiösen Erfahrung.
Gießen: Psychosozial-Verlag, 2004. 444 pp. ISBN
3-89806-300-3.
Saikia, Yasmin: Fragmented Memories. Struggling to
Be Tai-Abom in India. Durham: Duke University
Press, 2004. 327 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3373-2.
Salinas Campos, Maximiliano: En el cielo están
trillando. Para una historia de las creencias popu-
lares en Chile e Iberoamérica. Santiago de Chile:
Editorial de la Universidad de Santiago de Chile,
2000. 302 pp. ISBN 956-7069-54-9.
Sanchez Careiro, Cristina, and Jack Santino (eds.):
Holidays, Ritual, Festival, Celebration, and Pub-
lic Display. Alcalá: Universidad de Alcalá, 2003.
210 pp. ISBN 84-8138-596-4. (Biblioteca de Estu-
dios Norteamericanos, 7)
Sandos, James A.: Converting California. Indians and
Franciscans in the Missions. New Haven; Yale Uni-
versity Press, 2004. 251 pp. ISBN 0-300-10100-7.
Santos, Fernando, y Frederica Barclay (eds.): Guía
etnográfica de la Alta Amazonia; vol. 4: Matsi-
genka, Yánesha. Balboa; Lima: Smithsonian Trop-
ical Research Institute; IFEA, 2004. 368 pp. ISBN
9978-67-036-X; ISBN 9972-623-31-9.
Saura, Bruno : La société tahitienne au miroir d’Israël.
Un peuple en métaphore. Paris : CNRS Editions,
2004. 302 pp. ISBN 2-271-06218-7.
Schach-Dörges, Helga: Das frühmittelalterliche Gräber-
feld bei Aldingen am mittleren Neckar. Stuttgart:
Konrad Theiss Verlag, 2004. 124 pp., Abb. ISBN
3-8062-1962-1. (Materialhefte zur Archäologie in
Baden-Württemberg, 74).
Schäfer, Rita: Im Schatten der Apartheid. Frauen-
Rechtsorganisationen und geschlechtsspezifische
Gewalt in Südafrika. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2005.
480 pp. ISBN 3-8258-8676-X. (African Connec-
tions in Post-Colonial Theory and Literatures, 3)
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk (Hrsg ):
Lokales Wissen. Sozialwissenschaftliche Perspek-
tiven. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 273 pp. ISBN
3-8258-6963-6.
Schieffelin, Edward L.: The Sorrow of the Lonely and
the Burning of the Dancers. 2nd ed. New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. 244 pp. ISBN 1-4039-
6606-0.
Schlesier, Renate, und Ulrike Zellmann (Hrsg.): Rei-
sen über Grenzen. Kontakt und Konfrontation, Mas-
kerade und Mimikry. Münster: Waxmann, 2003-
185 pp. ISBN 3-8309-1314-1.
Schlüter, Clemens: Jizö Boasatu. Kunst, Kult und
Kommerz in Japan. Sammlung Clemens und Ryöko
Schlüter. Leipzig: Museum für Völkerkunde, Gras-
simuseum, 2004. 36 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-910031'
33-1.
Schoemann, Karel: The Early Mission in South Africa*
1799-1819. Hatfield: Protea Book House, 2005-
272 pp. ISBN 1-919825-42-8.
Schoormann, Matthias: Sozialer und religiöser Wandel
in Afrika. Die Tonga in Zimbabwe. Münster: Ld
Verlag, 2005. 616 pp. ISBN 0-8248-8737-5. (Kuh
turelle Identität und politische Selbstbestimmungin
der Weltgesellschaft, 11)
Schrijver, Peter, und Peter-Arnold Mumm (Hrsg 1
Sprachtod und Sprachgeburt. Bremen: Hempel1
Verlag, 2004. 300 pp. ISBN 3-934106-37-4-
(Münchner Forschungen zur historischen Sprach'
Wissenschaft, 2)
Segal, Daniel A., and Sylvia J. Ynagisako (eds.): Nn
wrapping the Sacred Bundle. Reflections on the
Disciplining of Anthropology. Durham: Duke On1
versity Press, 2005. 173 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3474-7-
Serrano Carreto, Enrique, etal. (coords.): Indi^
dores socioeconómicos de los pueblos indígenas
México, 2002. México: Instituto Nacional Indige
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
347
nista, 2002. 423 pp., 1 CD-ROM, 2 mapas. ISBN
970-18-9482-9.
Sewell, William H., Jr.: Logics of History. Social
Theory and Social Transformation. Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 2005. 412 pp. ISBN
0-226-74918-5.
Siegen, Josef: Re-konstruierte Vergangenheit. Das Löt-
schental und das Durnholzertal. Wirtschaftliche und
sozio-kulturelle Entwicklung von zwei abgeschlos-
senen Alpentälem zwischen 1920 und 2000 aus der
Sicht der Betroffenen. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004.
420 pp. ISBN 1-8258-8041-9. (Freiburger Sozial-
anthropologische Studien, 3)
Silva, Martiniano J.: Quilombos do Brasil Central.
Violenca e resistencia escrava, 1719-1888. Goiä-
nia: Editora Kelps, 2003. 521 pp. ISBN 85-903087-
1-5.
Simek, Rudolf: Der Glaube der Germanen. Kevelaer;
Verlagsgemeinschaft Topos plus, 2005. 158 pp.
ISBN 3-7867-8495-7.
Singh, K. S. (ed.): Uttar Pradesh; 3 parts. New Delhi:
Manohar Publishers, 2005. 1624 pp. ISBN 81-
7304-114-8. (People of India, 42)
Sivananda, Swami: Feste und Fastentage im Hinduis-
mus. Oberlahr; Yoga Vidya Verlag, 2002. 169 pp.
ISBN 3-931854-33-7.
Smart, Alan, and Josephine Smart (eds.). Petty Capi-
talists and Globalization. Flexibility, Entrepreneur-
ship, and Development. Albany: SUNY Press,
2005. 317 pp. ISBN 0-7914-6399-0.
Smith, Bruce D.: Rivers of Change. Essays on Early
Agriculture in Eastern North America. Pbk. Re-
issue. Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press,
_ 2002. 302 pp. ISBN 1-56098-162-8.
Smith, Dorthy E.: Institutional Ethnography. A Soci-
ology for People. Lanham: AltaMira Press, 2005.
256 pp. ISBN 0-7591-0502-2.
Pencer, F. Scott: Dancing Girls, Loose Ladies, and
Women of the Cloth. The Women in Jesus’ Life.
New York: Continuum, 2004. 196 pp. ISBN 0-
8264-1612-8.
tahl, Johannes: Cavineno Livelihood Strategies. A
Case Study from an Indigenous Village in the
Bolivian Amazon. Berlin: WVB, 2003. 102 pp.
ISBN 3-936846-68-5.
ta*iish, Charles, and Brian S. Bauer (eds.): Archae-
ological Research on the Islands of the Sun and
Moon, Lake Titicaca, Bolivia. Final Results of the
Proyecto Tiksi Kjarka. Los Angeles: Cotsen Insti-
tute of Archaeology at UCLA, 2004. 224 pp. ISBN
£ . I'931745-12-9. (Monograph, 52)
e*n> Gil J. (ed.): The Archaeology of Colonial
Encounters. Comparative Perspectives. Santa Fe;
School of American Research Press; Oxford: James
Currey, 2004. 445 pp. ISBN 1-930618-44-1; ISBN
s . 0-85255-980-1.
lemberg, Guido: Saudi-Arabien. Politik, Geschich-
te, Religion. München; Verlag C. H. Beck, 2004.
l96pp. ISBN 3-406-51112-0. (Beck’sehe Reihe,
1605)
Anth
Stelzig, Christine: Afrika am Museum für Völkerkunde
zu Berlin 1873-1919. Aneignung, Darstellung und
Konstruktion eines Kontinents. Herbolzheim: Cen-
taurus Verlag, 2004. 450 pp. ISBN 3-8255-0399-2.
(Kulturen im Wandel, 10)
Stewart, Pamela J., and Andrew Strathern (eds.):
Contesting Rituals. Islam and Practices of Identity-
Making. Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2005.
239 pp. ISBN 1-59460-077-5.
--- Expressive Genres and Historical Change. Indone-
sia, Papua New Guinea, and Taiwan. Aldershot:
Ashgate Publishing, 2005. 268 pp. ISBN 0-7546-
4418-9.
Stoll, Sandra Jacquelin: Espiritismo à Brasileira. Säo
Paulo: Editora USP; Curitiba: Editora Orion, 2003.
293 pp. ISBN 85-314-0807-5; ISBN 85-98093-
01-7.
Stoller, Paul: Gallery Bundu. A Story about an African
Past. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
2005. 195 pp. ISBN 0-226-77524-0.
Strathern, Marilyn: Partial Connections. Updated ed.
Walnut Creek; AltaMira Press, 2004. 153 pp. ISBN
0-7591-0760-2. (ASAO Special Publications, 3)
Stresser-Péan, Guy : Le Soleil-Dieu et le Christ. La
christianisation des Indiens du Mexique vue de
la Sierra de Puebla. Paris : L’Harmattan, 2005.
568 pp., 1 CD-ROM. ISBN 2-7475-7790-2.
Styers, Randall: Making Magic. Religion, Magic, and
Science in the Modem World. Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 2004. 290 pp. ISBN 0-19-516941-7.
Subba, T. B., and Sujit Som (eds.): Between Ethnog-
raphy and Fiction. Verrier Elwin and the Tribal
Question in India. Hyderabad: Orient Longman,
2005. 260 pp. ISBN 81-250-2812-9.
Stuckrad, Kocku von: Was ist Esoterik? Kleine Ge-
schichte des geheimen Wissens. München: C. H.
Beck Verlag, 2004. 280 pp. ISBN 3-406-52173-8.
Swann, Brian: Wearing the Morning Star. Native
American Song-Poems. Lincoln: University of Ne-
braska Press, 2005. 180 pp. ISBN 0-8032-9340-2.
Swearer, Donald K., et ai: Sacred Mountains of North-
ern Thailand and Their Legends. Chiang Mai: Silk-
worm Books, 2004. 104 pp. ISBN 974-9575-48-2.
Talbot, Ian, and Shinder Thandi (eds.): People on
the Move. Punjabi Colonial, and Post-Colonial
Migration. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.
238 pp. ISBN 0-19-579956-9.
Tall, Aminatou: Das Frobenius-Institut unter Eike Ha-
berland. Marburg: Tectum Verlag, 2005. 89 pp. auf
CD-ROM. ISBN 3-8288-5187-8.
Tallerman, Maggie (ed.): Language Origins. Perspec-
tives on Evolution. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2005. 426 pp. ISBN 0-19-927903-9.
Taylor, Gerald: Relatos quechuas de la Jalea (Cha-
chapoyas). Lima: IFEA, 2003. 72 pp. ISBN 9972-
623-24-6. (Colección Biblioteca Andina de Bol-
sillo, 20)
--- El sol, la luna y las estrellas no son Dios ...
La evangelización en quechua (siglo XVI). Li-
ma: IFEA, 2003. 180 pp. ISBN 9972-623-26-2.
lr°pos 101.2006
348
Neue Publikationen
(Travaux de l’Institut Français d’Études Andines,
172)
Taylor, Philip: Goddess on the Rise. Pilgrimage and
Popular Religion in Vietnam. Honolulu: University
of Hawai’i Press, 2004. 332 pp. ISBN 0-8248-
2801-1.
Telles, Edward: Racismo à brasileira. Urna nova pers-
pectiva sociológica. Rio de Janeiro: Relume Du-
mará, 2003. 347 pp. ISBN 85-7316-337-2.
Therborn, Göran (ed.): African Families in a Global
Context. Uppsala: Nordiska Afrikainstitutet, 2004.
118 pp. ISBN 91-7106-536-9. (Research Report,
131)
Thibon, Christian : Histoire démographique du Burun-
di. Paris : Éditions Karthala, 2004. 438 pp. ISBN
2-84586-515-5.
Thies, Christian: Einführung in die philosophische An-
thropologie. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchge-
sellschaft, 2004. 165 pp. ISBN 3-534-15470-3.
Thomas, Douglas E.: African Traditional Religion in
the Modern World. Jefferson: McFarland Publish-
ers, 2005. 203 pp. ISBN 0-7864-1835-4.
Thomas, Helen: The Body, Dance, and Cultural Theo-
ry. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003. 262 pp.
ISBN 0-333-72432-1.
Tibi, Bassam: Der neue Totalitarismus. “Heiliger Krieg”
und westliche Sicherheit. Darmstadt: Wissenschaft-
liche Buchgesellschaft, 2004. 243 pp. ISBN 3-534-
17536-0.
Tomoeda, Hiroyasu, etal. (eds.): Entre dios y el diablo.
Magia y poder en la costa norte del Perú. Lima:
IFEA, 2004. 209 pp. ISBN 9972-623-30-0. (Tra-
vaux de l’Institut Français d’Études Andines, 197)
Traulsen, Christian: Das sakrale Asyl in der Alten
Welt. Zur Schutzfunktion des Heiligen von König
Salomo bis zum Codex Theodosianus. Tübingen;
Mohr Siebeck, 2004. 364 pp. ISBN 3-16-148170-4.
(Jus Ecclesiasticum, 72)
Himer, Trudy R. (ed.): Biological Anthropology and
Ethics. From Repatriation to Genetic Identity. Al-
bany: SUNY Press, 2005. 327 pp. ISBN 0-7914-
6296-X.
Türner, Victor: Das Ritual. Struktur und Anti-Struktur.
Neuaufl. Frankfurt: Campus Verlag, 2005. 209 pp.
ISBN 3-593-37762-4.
Una mirada desde la arqueología. Bogotá: Museo del
Oro, Banco de la República, 2005. 29 pp., fotos.
ISBN 958-664-153-8.
Ur-Ethnographie. Auf der Suche nach dem Elementaren
in der Kultur. Die Sammlung Eugenie Goldstern.
Red. von Franz Grieshofer etal. Wien: Österrei-
chisches Museum für Volkskunde, 2004. 155 pp.,
Fotos. ISBN 3-902381-05-1. (Kataloge des Öster-
reichischen Museums für Volkskunde, 85)
Uribe Villegas, Maria Alicia: Una mirada desde el cha-
manismo. Bogotá: Museo del Oro, Banco de la Re-
pública, 2004. 31 pp., fotos. ISBN 958-664-154-6.
Uzendoski, Michael: The Ñapo Runa of Amazoni-
an Ecuador. Urban: University of Illinois, 2005.
199 pp. ISBN 0-252-07255-3.
van Gennep, Arnold: Übergangsriten. 3., erw. Aufl.
Frankfurt: Campus Verlag, 2005. 264 pp. ISBN 3-
593-37836-1.
Varisco, Daniel Martin: Islam Obscured. The Rhetoric
of Anthropological Representation. New York: Pal-
grave Macmillan, 2005. 226 pp. ISBN 1-4039-
6773-3.
Veit, Walter F. (ed.); The Struggle for Souls and
Science. Constructing the Fifth Continent. Ger-
man Missionaries and Scientists in Australia. Al-
ice Springs: Northern Territory Government, 2004.
218 pp. ISSN 1327-9858. (Occasional Paper, 3)
Verger, Pierre: Saida de laô. Cinco ensaios sobre a
religiâo dos orixâs. Fotos de Pierre Verger. Organ,
de Carlos Eugênio Marcondes de Moura. Sâo
Paulo: Axis Mundi Editera, 2002. 190 pp., fotos.
ISBN 85-85554-25-8.
Vickers, Adrian: Journeys of Desire. A Study of the
Balinese Text Malat. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2005.
385 pp. ISBN 90-6718-137-4. (Verhandelingen van
het Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Vol-
kenkunde, 217)
Vidal, Laurent : Ritualités, santé et sida en Afrique.
Pour une anthropologie du singulier. Paris : Édi-
tions Karthala ; IRD, 2004. 209 pp. ISBN 2-84586-
528-7; ISBN 2-7099-1551-0.
Vieira, Claudio Ribeiro: Manual litùrgico de Umbanda.
Quebrando o pote. Rio de Janeiro: Lerfixa Editera,
2003. 428 pp. ISBN 85-88859-03-3.
Villas Boas, Orlando: A arte dos pajés. Impressôes
sobre o universe espiritual do indio xinguano. Sâo
Paulo: Editera Globo, 2000. 126 pp. ISBN 85-250-
3164-X.
Vogel, Martin: Apollon Onos. Bonn; Orpheus-Ver-
lag, 2003. 299 pp. ISBN 3-936626-02-2. (Orpheus-
Schriftenreihe zu Grundlagen der Musik, 102)
Waardt, Hans de, etal. (Hrsg.): Dämonische Be-
sessenheit. Zur Interpretation eines kulturhistori'
sehen Phänomens. Bielefeld; Verlag für Regi°'
nalgeschichte, 2005. 347 pp. ISBN 3-89534-489-3-
(Hexenforschung, 9)
Walsh, Judith E.: Domesticity in Colonial India. What
Women Learned When Men Gave Them Advice-
Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2004. 234 pp-
ISBN 0-7425-2937-1.
Walter, Mariko Namba, and Eva Jane Neumanh
Friman (eds.): Shamanism. An Encyclopedia 0
World Beliefs, Practices, and Culture; 2 vols. Sant3
Barbara: ABC CLIO, 2004. 1055 pp. ISBN 1'
57607-645-8.
Walton, Priscilla L.: Our Cannibals, Ourselves. Ür
bana: University of Illinois Press, 2004. 172 pP'
ISBN 0-252-02925-9. .
Weiß, Bardo: Die deutschen Mystikerinnen und 1
Gottesbild. Das Gottesbild der deutschen Mystik6
rinnen auf dem Hintergrund der Mönchstheolog16'
Bde. 2, 3. Paderborn: Ferdinand Schöningh, 200 •
661-1607 pp.; 1609-2266 pp. ISBN 3-506-7132/'
2; 3-506-71329-9.
Wernhart, Karl R.: Ethnische Religionen. Univers3
Anthropos 101.200
Neue Publikationen
349
le Elemente des Religiösen. Kevelaer: Verlagsge-
meinschaft Topos plus, 2004. 160 pp. ISBN 3-
7867-8545-7.
West, Mark D.: Law in Everyday Japan. Sex, Sumo,
Suicide, and Statutes. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 2005. 279 pp. ISBN 0-226-89403-7.
Whiteford, Linda, and Scott Whiteford (eds.): Glob-
alization, Water, and Health. Resource Manage-
ment in Time of Scarcity. Sante Fe: School of
American Research Press; Oxford; James Cur-
rey, 2005. 322 pp. ISBN 1-930618-58-1; ISBN 0-
85255-
974-7.
Whitehouse, Harvey, and James Laidlaw (eds.): Ritual
and Memory. Toward a Comparative Anthropology
of Religion. Walnut Creek: AltaMira Press, 2004.
219 pp. ISBN 0-7591-0617-7.
Widlok, Thomas, and Wolde Gosse Tadesse (eds.):
Property and Equality; 2 vols. Vol. 1: Rituali-
sation, Sharing, Egalitarianism; vol. 2: Encapsu-
lation, Commercialisation, Discrimination. New
York: Berghahn Books, 2005. 228 pp.; 266 pp.
ISBN 1-57181-616-X; 1-57181-617-8.
Wienges, Sebastian: Westlicher Individualismus versus
asiatische Werte. Die Bedeutung von Individuum
und Kultur für gesellschaftliche Entwicklung. Ber-
lin: WVB, 2003. 165 pp. ISBN 3-936846-57-X.
Williams, Drid: Anthropology and the Dance. Ten
Lectures. 2nd ed. Urbana: University of Illinois
Press, 2004. 303 pp. ISBN 0-252-07134-4.
^üke, Sabine: Die verspeiste Esskultur. Nahrung und
Nahrungstabus. Marburg: Tectum Verlag, 2005.
132 pp. ISBN 3-8288-8789-9.
'^ilrnore, Gayraud S.: Pragmatic Spirituality. The
Christian Faith through an Africentric Lens. New
York: New York University Press, 2004. 322 pp.
ISBN 0-8147-9396-7.
Wilson, Penelope: Hieroglyphs. A Very Short Intro-
duction. Oxford; Oxford University Press, 2003.
130 pp. ISBN 0-19-280502-9. (Very Short Intro-
ductions, 113)
^'nkelmann, Michael, and Philip M. Peek (eds.):
Divination and Healing. Potent Vision. Tucson: The
University of Arizona Press, 2004. 295 pp. ISBN
w 0-8165-2377-0.
Arthur P., and William H. Durham (eds.):
Inbreeding, Incest, and the Incest Taboo. The State
°f Knowledge at the Turn of the Century. Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 2005. 228 pp. ISBN 0-
8047-4596-X.
0|nack, Mari: Symbols and Meaning. A Concise
Introduction. Walnut Creek: Rowman & Littlefield,
2005. 159 pp. ISBN 0-7591-0322-4.
Woodward, Kath (ed.): Questioning Identity. Gender,
Class, Ethnicity. 2nd ed. London: Routledge, in as-
sociation with The Open University, 2004. 162 pp.
ISBN 0-415-32968-X.
Wright, Craig: The Maze and the Warrior. Symbols
in Architecture, Theology, and Music. Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 2001. 351 pp. ISBN 0-
674-01363-8.
Wunn, Ina: Die Religionen in vorgeschichtlicher Zeit.
Stuttgart: Verlag W. Kohlhammer, 2005. 496 pp.
ISBN 3-17-016726-X. (Die Religionen der Mensch-
heit, 2)
Yeh, Wie-Po, etal. (Red.); Meisterwerke zeitgenössi-
scher taiwanischer Bambusflechtkunst. Katalog.
Berlin; Ethnologisches Museum, 2004. 32 pp. Fo-
tos.
Young, Michael W.: Malinowski. Odyssey of an An-
thropologist, 1884-1920. New Haven: Yale Uni-
versity Press, 2004. 690 pp. ISBN 0-300-10294-1.
Young, Virginia Heyer: Ruth Benedict. Beyond Rela-
tivity, Beyond Pattern. Lincoln: University of Ne-
braska Press, 2005. 379 pp. ISBN 0-8032-4919-5.
Yupanqui, Titu Cusi: An Inca Account of the Conquest
of Peru. Ed. by Ralph Bauer. Boulder: University
Press of Colorado, 2005. 166 pp. ISBN 0-87081-
821-X.
Yurkova, Irina: Der Alltag der Transformation. Klein-
unternehmerinnen in Usbekistan. Bielefeld: trans-
cript Verlag, 2004. 209 pp. ISBN 3-89942-219-8.
Zaman, Shahaduz: Broken Limbs, Broken Lives.
Ethnography of a Hospital Ward in Bangladesh.
Amsterdam; Het Spinhuis, 2005. 250 pp. ISBN 90-
5589-229-7.
Zander, Viktor: Identity and Marginality among New
Australians. Religion and Ethnicity in Victoria’s
Slavic Baptist Community. Berlin: Walter de Gruy-
ter, 2004. 327 pp. ISBN 3-11-017981-4. (Religion
and Society, 39)
Zeitlyn, David: Words and Processes in Mambila Kin-
ship. The Theoretical Importance of the Complex-
ity of Everyday Life. Lanham: Lexington Books,
2005. 243 pp. ISBN 0-7391-0801-8.
Zu den Wurzeln europäischer Kulturlandschaft - Expe-
rimentelle Forschungen. Wissenschaftliche Tagung
Schöntal 2002 - Tagungsband. Gerhard Lang zum
80. Geburtstag gewidmet. Stuttgart: Konrad Theiss
Verlag, 2005. 271 pp., Beilage 1-7. ISBN 3-8062-
1973-7. (Materialhefte zur Archäologie in Baden-
Württemberg, 73)
Amh
•ropos 101.2006
175-176
juillet/décembre
2005
L’HOMME
Revue française d’anthropologie
REVUE TRIMESTRIELLE PUBLIÉE PAR
LES ÉDITIONS DE L’ÉCOLE DES
HAUTES ÉTUDES EN SCIENCES
SOCIALES
DIFFUSION Éditions du Seuil
VENTE au numéro en librairie
34 euros
RÉDACTION Laboratoire
d’anthropologie sociale,
52 rue du Cardinal-Lemoine
75005 Paris
Tel (33) 01 44 27 17 30
Fax (33) 01 44 27 17 66
LHomme @ehess ir
VÉRITÉS DE LA FICTION
François Flahault & Nathalie Heinich Argument
Jean-Marie Schaeffer Quelles vérités pour quelles fictions ?
François Flahault Récits de fiction et représentations partagées
Nathalie Heinich Les limites de la fiction
Sabine Chalvon-Demersay Le deuxième souffle des adaptations
Yan Thomas Les artifices de la vérité
Serge Tisseron La réalité de l’expérience de fiction
Jean-Paul Colleyn Fiction et fictions en anthropologie
Jean Jamin Fictions haut régime
Frédéric Keck Fiction, folie, fétichisme
Vincent Debaene Ethnographie/fiction
Paul Veyne Entretien
❖
Représentations, croyances, fictions
Daniel Fabre, Jean-Claude Muller, Laurent Barry, Christine Laurière,
Christophe Perrey, Jean-Pierre Albert, Boris Wiseman
À propos
Patrick Williams, Daniel Fabre, Emmanuel Désveaux
Hommages à Edmond Ortigues
Jacqueline Rabain,Vincent Descombes
Zeitschriftenschau
Africa (Manchester)
74. 2004/4
Lewis, L, Visible and Invisible Differences: The Somali
Paradox (489-515). - Webersick, C., Differences that
Matter; The Struggle of the Marginalised in Somalia
(516-533). - Mohamed, J., The Political Ecology of
Colonial Somaliland (534-566). - Homewood, K., E.
Coast, M. Thompson, In-Migrants and Exclusion in
East African Rangelands: Access, Tenure, and Conflict
(567-610).
75. 2005/1
Leldman-Savelsberg, P., F. T. Ndonko, S. Yang, Re-
membering “the Troubles:” Reproductive Insecurity and
the Management of Memory in Cameroon (10-29).
" Smith, D. J., Legacies of Biafra: Marriage, “Home
People” and Reproduction among the Igbo of Nigeria
(30-45). - Klaits, F., The Widow in Blue: Blood and
the Morality of Remembering in Botswana’s Time of
AIDS (46-62). - Renne, E. P., Childhood Memories
arid Contemporary Parenting in Ekiti, Nigeria (63-82).
" Straight, B., In the Bells of History: Memory, For-
§etting, and the Hazards of Reproduction (83-104). -
Gottlieb, A., Babies’ Baths, Babies’ Remembrances: A
eng Theory of Development, History, and Memory
005-118),
£S- 2005/2
°sel, D., Sex, Death, and the Fate of the Nation:
Sections on the Politization of Sexuality in Post-
^Partheid South Africa (25-153). - Whyte, S.R.,
°ing Home? Belonging and Burial in the Era of AIDS
54-172). - Geisler, W., “Kachinja Are Coming!”;
Counter around Medical Research Work in a Kenyan
hi age (173-202). - Weir, J., Whose uNkulunkulu
t, ^3-219). - Chitando, E., “In the Beginning Was
Land;” The Appropriation of Religious Themes in
°htical Discourses in Zimbabwe (221-239).
A 2005/3
J»0, B., Carrefour de la foie: Popular Deconstruction
" ^r*can Postcolonial Public Sphere (265-294).
an ^arnnj°h, F., Fishing in Trouble Waters: Disquettes
S h in Dakar (295-324). - Jua, N., The Mortuary
ere’ Privilege, and the Politics of Belonging in Con-
trary Cameroon (325-355). - Jindra, M., Chris-
nity and the Proliferation of Ancestors: Changes in
Anth
Hierarchy and Mortuary Ritual in the Cameroon Grass-
fields (356-377). - Mouicha, I., Islam, mondialisation
et crise identitaire dans le royaume bamoun [Cameroun]
(378-420).
African Affairs (Oxford)
104. 2005/415
Waal, A. de, Who Are the Darfurians? Arab and African
Identities, Violence, and External Engagement (181 —
205). - Hughes, L., Malice in Maasailand; The Histor-
ical Roots of Current Political Struggles (207-224). -
Nyairo, J., J. Ogude, Popular Music, Popular Politics:
Unbwoggable and the Idioms of Freedom in Kenyan
Popular Music (225-249). - Nyamnjoh, F. B., J. Fok-
wang, Entertaining Repression: Music and Politics in
Postcolonial Cameroon (251-274). - Konings, P., The
Anglophone Cameroon-Nigeria Boundary: Opportuni-
ties and Conflicts (275-301).
104. 2005/416
Tull, D. M., A. Mehler, The Hidden Costs of Pow-
er Sharing: Reproducing Insurgent Violence in Africa
(375-398). - Englebert, P., R. Hummel, Let’s Stick
Together: Understanding Africa’s Secessionist Deficit
(399-427).
African Arts (Los Angeles)
37. 2004/4
Klopper, S., South Africa’s Culture of Collecting. The
Unofficial History (18-25). - Gaylard, J., The Craft
Industry in South Africa. A Review of Ten Years of
Democracy (26-29). - Godby, M., After Apartheid.
10 South African Documentary Photographers (35-41).
- Rovine, V. L., South Africa from North America.
Exporting Identities through Art (48-55). - Wyllie, D.,
“From the Bottom of Our Hearts.” Making Art in a Time
of Struggle (56-61). - Klopper, S., Sacred Fragments.
Looking Back at the Art of Paul Stopforth (68-73). -
Watt, L. van der, Tracing Berni Searle (74-79).
,r°pos 101.2006
352
Zeitschriftenschau
African and Asian Studies (London)
4. 2005/1-2
Aning, E. K., The Challenge of Civil Wars to Multilat-
eral Interventions - UN, ECOWAS, and Complex Politic
Emergencies in West Africa: A Critical Analysis (1-20).
- Lumumba-Kasongo, T., International Intervention-
ism. Democracy, and Peace-Building in the Great Lakes
of Africa: A Regional Perspective of the Challenges
(21-50). - Nasong’o, S. W., G. R. Murunga, Lack
of Consensus on Constitutive Fundamentals; Roots of
the Sudanese Civil War and Prospects for Settlement
(51-82). - Osaghae, E. E., State, Constitutionalism,
and the Management of Ethnicity in Africa (83-105).
- Sowatey, E. A., Democracy and Peace-Building in
Ghana: Paradoxes and Challenges (107-136). - Mu-
runga, G. R., Conflict in Somalia and Crime in Kenya:
Understanding the Trans-Territoriality of Crime (137—
161). - Kieh Jr., G. K., State-Building in Post-Civil
War Sierra Leone (163-185). - Moyo, S., Land and
Natural Resource Redistribution in Zimbabwe: Access,
Equity, and Conflict (187-223).
4. 2005/3
Ho, Ming-sho, Protest as Community Revival: Folk Re-
ligion in a Taiwanese Anti-Pollution Movement (237-
269). - Dibie, R., J. Njoku, Cultural Perceptions of
Africans in Diaspora and in Africa on Atlantic Slave
Trade and Reparations (403-425).
Afriche (Genova)
66. 2005/2
Special Issue [ed. by A. Panini]; La via delle perle (2-
48).
67. 2005/3
Special Issue [ed. by S. Galli]: I Kotokoli del Togo. Le
acque della vita (2-48).
Afrique Contemporaine (Paris)
2004/212
Cornelissen, S., Le Japon, une moyenne puissance face
à l’Afrique. Au-delà du débat réaction/proaction (33-
53). - Kamo, S., De l’engagement économique à l’en-
gagement politique. Les nouvelles orientations de la
politique africaine du Japon (55-66). - Ogasawara, M.,
La coopération japonaise à l’égard de l’Afrique ; Vers
un développement de la coopération Asie-Afrique (67 -
75). - Obayashi, M., TICAD, un processus favorable
au développement de l’Afrique (77-89). - Ampiah, K.,
L’Afrique du Sud dans la TICAD : Un rôle pivot (91-
112). - Androuais, A., Japon et Afrique : La genèse de
rélations économiques (113-129).
2005/214
Chauveau, J.-P., Les jeunes ruraux à la croisée des
chemins (15-35). - Richards, P., La terre ou le fusil ?
La jeunesse rurale et les racines agraires des conflits de
la région du fleuve Mano (37-57). - Chauveau, J.-P.,
Les rapports entre générations ont une histoire : Accès
à la terre et gouvernementabilité locale en pays gban
[Centre-Ouest de la Côte d’ivoire] (59-83). - Amanor,
K.J., La fracture de l’exploitation familiale agricole:
Jeunes, migrants et marchandisation de l’agriculture en
Ghana (85-101). - Le Meur, P.-Y., L’ émergence des
“jeunes” comme groupe stratégique et catégorie poli-
tique dans la commune de Ouessè, Bénin (103-122).
- Lavergne, M., Darfour: Éléments pour l’analyse
géographique d’une guerre civile en milieu sahélien
(129-163). - Ihbiana, J., Le Darfour, un conflit iden-
titaire ? (165-206). - Tubiana, J., Misère et terror au
Soudan; À l’origine des affrontements dans le Darfour
(207-226).
American Anthropologist (Washington)
107. 2005/2
Bibler Coutin, S., Being en Route (195-206). - Holly
Jr., D. H., The Place of “Others” in Hunter-Gatherer
Intensification (207-220).
107. 2005/3
Edelman, M., Bringing the Moral Economy Back in
... to the Study of 21st Century Transnational Peas-
ant Movements (331-345). - Sivaramakrishnan,
Some Intellectual Genealogies for the Concept of Every-
day Resistance (346-355). - Greenhouse, C. J., Hege-
mony and Hidden Transcripts: The Discursive Arts of
Neoliberal Legitimation (356-368). - Herzfeld, M., Po-
litical Optics and the Occlusion of Intimate Knowledge
(369-376).
American Ethnologist (Washington)
32. 2005/1
AE Forum: Are Men Missing? (3-45).
32. 2005/2
Petryna, A., Experimenting as Science. Ethical Vari-
ability: Drug Development and Globalizing Clinical
Trials (183-197). - Biolsi, T., Imagined Geographies-
Sovereignty, Indigenous Space, and American India0
Struggle (239-259). - Snajdr, E., Gender, Power, and
the Performance of Justice: Muslim Women’s Respons-
es to Domestic Violence in Kazakhstan (294-31 D-
Friedman, S. L., The Intimacy of State Power. Mar-
riage, Liberation, and Socialist Subjects in Southeastern
China (312-327).
32. 2005/3
Jackson, J. E., Stigma, Liminality, and Chronic Pa01'
Mind-Body Borderlands (332-353). - Sylvain, R.»
orderly Development: Globalization and the Idea 0
“Culture” in the Kalahari (354-370). - Green,
Mesaki, The Birth of the “Salon:” Poverty, “Moderniza
tion,” and Dealing with Witchcraft in Southern Tanzam ^
- Fassin, D., P. Vasquez, Humanitarian Exception a
Anthropos 101-2006
Zeitschriftenschau
353
the Rule: The Political Theology of the 1999 Tragedia
in Venezuela (389-405).
L’Année Sociologique (Paris)
54. 2004/2
Boudon, R., Une théorie judicatoire des sentiments mo-
raux (327-357). - Pharo, P., L’enquête en sociologie
morale (359-388). - Bateman, S., L’expérience morale
comme objet sociologique (389-412). - Paperman, P.,
Perspectives féministes sur la justice (413-433). - Nu-
rock, V., Intuition morale et morale naïve (435-453). -
Merchiers, J., Y a-t-il des dispositions morales ? (455-
482). - Terré, D., Droit, morale, et sociologie (483-
509).
Anthropological Quarterly (Washington)
78. 2005/1
Bylko-Bauer, B., Lessons about Humanity and Survival
from My Mother and from the Holocaust (11-41). -
Waterston, A., The Story of My Story: An Anthro-
pology of Violence, Dispossession, and Diaspora (43-
61)- - Bourguignon, E., Memory in an Amnesic World:
holocaust, Exile, and the Return of the Suppressed
f63—88). - Bourgois, P., Missing the Holocaust: My
father's Account of Auschwitz from August 1943 to
June 1944 (89-123). - Farmer, P., The Banality of
Agency: Bridging Personal Narrative and Political Econ-
^uiy (125-135). - Tatr, B., Emergence of Nationalist
mentity in Armed Insurrections: A Comparison of Iraq
and Nicaragua (179-195). - Berliner, D., The Abuses
°f Memory: Reflections on the Memory Boom in An-
frtopology (197-211). - Feldman, G., Essential Crisis:
"7 Performative Approach to Migrants, Minorities, and
me European Nation-State (213-246).
Anthropological Theory (London)
^ 2005/2
ershon, I., Seeing Like a System: Luhmann for An-
thologists (99-116). - Makihara, M., Being Rapa
> Speaking Spanish: Children’s Voices on Easter
p and (117-134). - Kalb, D., From Flows to Violence:
°litics and Knowledge in the Debates on Globalization
nd Empire (176-204).
p’ 2005/3
e d^an, G., Estranged States; Diplomacy and the Con-
tinent of National Minorities in Europe (219-245).
B- HreCn’ P)tscourses on Inequality: Poverty, Public
-j, s> and Entrenching Witchcraft in Post-Adjustment
^ Uzania (247-266). - Rata, E., Rethinking Bicultur-
p^st (267-284). - Kapferer, B., New Formations of
10 . er’ the Oligarchic-Corporate State, and Anthropo-
lc&l Ideological Discourse (285-299).
Vh
Anthropologie et Sociétés (Québec)
28. 2004/1
Friedman, J., Culture et politique de la culture. Une dy-
namique durkheimienne (23-43). - Dussart, F., Mon-
trer sans partager, présenter sans profiter. Redéfinition
de l’identité rituelle chez les interprètes rituelles warlpiri
(67-87). - Brunois, F., La forêt peut-elle être plurielle ?
Définition de la forêt des Kasua de Nouvelle-Guinée
(89-107). - Goulet, J.-G. A., Une question éthique
venue de l’autre monde. Au-delà du Grand Partage entre
nous et les autres (108-126).
28. 2004/2
Krech III, S., Le passé recomposé ? Une réflexion sur
les expositions d’art et d’artefacts amérindiennes aux
États-Unis (19-39). - Conaty, G. T., La rapatriement
du matériel sacrés des Pieds-Noirs. Deux approches
(63-81). - Fourchez, L., Construction du regard an-
thropologique et nouvelles technologies. Pour une an-
thropologie visuelle appliquée [note de recherche] (83-
100). - Galinier, J., Détruire pour conserver. Notes sur
l’imagination muséographique en Mésoamérique (101 —
119).
28. 2004/3
El-Ghadban, Y., Palestines imaginaires: La scénogra-
phie comme ethnographie (15-37). - Probyn, F., Dé-
placés : Honte, corps et lieux (39-58). - Galibert, C.,
Anthropologie fictionnelle et anthropologie de la fiction.
Un exemple d’ethnologie à domicile (127-146). - Mul-
ler, J.-C., Du monologue au dialogue ou de l’ambiguïté
d’écrire des deux mains (147-163). - Pirinoli, C.,
L’Anthropologie palestinienne entre science et politique.
L’impossible neutralité du chercheur (165-285).
29. 2005/1
Agrawal, A., Communautés, gouvernement intime et
sujets de l’environnement au Kumaon, Inde (21-47).
- Lassagne, A., Exploitation forestière, développement
durable et stratégies de pouvoir dans une forêt tropicale
camerounaise (49-79). - Levang, P., N. Buyse, S.
Sitorus, E. Dounias, Impact de la décentralisation sur la
gestion des ressources forestières en Indonésie. Études
de cas à Kalimantan-Est (81-102). - Chartier, D.,
ONC internationales et politiques forestières tropicales :
Exemple de Greenpeace en Amazonie (103-120). -
Doyon, S., Une révolution à sa mesure ; Diversité des
pratiques environnementales communautaires à Cuba
(121 -143). - Dibakana, J.-A., Décès d’enfant, désordre
familial et mésaventures de l’oncle. La ré-invention des
pouvoirs des aînés sociaux dans le Congo contemporain
(145-165). - Simbananiye, L., Les noms de personnes
au Burundi. Un support du lien social (167-181).
Anthropology Southern Africa
(Boordfontein)
27. 2004/3-4
Middleton, J., Aspects of Tourism in Kenya (65-
74). - Coertze, R. D., The Evaluation of Development
,roPos 101.2006
354
Zeitschriftenschau
Projects. South African Anthropological Perspective
(75-85).
28. 2005/1-2
Erasmus, P. A., Land is for People - Experiences of
the Community of Khuis (1-7). - Thornton, R., Four
Principles of South African Political Culture at the Local
Level (22-30). - Spiegel, A., V. Watson, P. Wilkinson,
Women, Difference, and Urbanisation Patterns in Cape
Town, South Africa (31-38). - Jansen van Rensburg,
F. (NS), Inclusion of the “Other” into the Fold: Early
Mission Churches and Society in Makweteng, Potchef-
stroom, South Africa (39-48).
Anthropology Today (London)
21. 2005/2
Boskovic, A., Distinguishing “Self’ and “Other;” An-
thropology and National Identity in Former Yugoslavia
(8-13). - Mackey, E., Universal Rights in Conflict:
“Backlash” and “Benevolent Resistance” to Indigenous
Land Rights (14-20).
Anuario de Eusko-Folklore (San Sebastián)
44. 2003-2004
Beguiristn Gúrpide, A., Familia, relaciones entre es-
posos, reposo y aseo en Obanos [Navarra] (7-58). -
Argandoña, P., Medicina popular en Lezaun [Navarra]
(109-135). - Peña Cerro, L. M., Ritos del nacimiento
al matrimonio en el Valle de Carranza [Bizkia] (137—
196).
Archipel (Paris)
60. 2005
Cohen, M. I., Traditional and Popular Painting in Mod-
em Java (5-38). - Behrend, T., Frontispiece Architec-
ture in Ngayogyakarta: Notes on Structure and Sources
(39-60). - Samuel, J., Naissance et renaissance de
la peinture sous verre à Java (87-126). - Labrousse,
P., Raden Istigno Kartodidjojo (1921-1999). À la re-
cherche d’un sublime (adiluhung) javanais (127-150).
- Scalliet, M.-O., Raden Saleh et les Hollandais : Artiste
protégé ou otage politique? (151-258). - Kraus, W.,
Raden Saleh’s Interpretation of the Arrest of Dipone-
goro: An Example of Indonesian “Proto-Nationalist”
Modernism (259-294).
Archiv für Völkerkunde (Wien)
54. 2004
Hohmann, H., Farbige Grabtürme in den Anden Boli-
viens (1-25). - Bah, N. J., Some Oku Rituals (Western
Grassfields, Cameroon). With a Preface by Nicolas Ar-
genti (49-72). - Schicklgruber, C., Die Frau geht zum
Mann. Bemerkungen zu einer tibetischen Hochzeit (91-
112).
Archives de sciences sociales des religions
(Paris)
50. 2005/130
Manevy, A., “Tes anges ne sont pas les miens!” De
l’ange gardien à l’ange haziélien (13-36). - Laigneau,
C., Le sanctuaire Saint Pantaléon à Buenos Aires.
La régulation institutionnelle d’une culte thérapeutique
(37-53). - Basu, H., Practices of Praise and Social
Constructions of Identity: The Barts of North-West India
(81-105). - Zeghal, M., Saints, héros et martyrs dans
le monde musulman (107-111).
Arctic Anthropology (Madison)
42. 2005/1
Huntington, H. P., “We Dance Around in a Ring
and Suppose;” Academic Engagement with Traditional
Knowledge (29-32). - Driscoll-Engelstad, B., Dance
of the Loon: Symbolism and Continuity in Copper Inuit
Ceremonial Clothing (33-46).
Asian Folklore Studies (Nagoya)
44. 2005/1
Davis, C., “Listen, Râma’s Wife!”: Maithill Women’s
Perspectives and Practices in the Festival of Sämä Ca-
kevâ (1-38). - Akand, M. K., Folk Culture and Urban
Adaptation: A Case Study of Paharia in Rajshahi (39"
52). - Ho, Yuk-ying, Bridal Laments in Rural Hong
Kong (53-87). - Law, Pui-lam, The Revival of Folk
Religion and Gender Relationships in Rural China: A
Preliminary Observation (89-109). - Metevelis, ?•’
The Dog Star and the Multiple Suns Motif: An Asian
Contribution to European Mythology (133-137).
Asiatische Studien (Bern)
58. 2004/4
Bronkhorst, J., La grammaire et le début de la phü0
sophie indienne (791-865). - Fröhlich, T., Die HU
meneutik der Nationalkultur: Tang Junyi (1909-197
über das Exil (867-894).
59. 2005/2
Eltschinger, V., Recherches sur la philosophie N
gieuse de Dharmaklrti. Part 1 : Le Bouddha comme Sas^
et comme Sugata (395-442). - Geen, J., The Evolutif
of Draupadl’s Marriage in the Jaina Tradition (44
497). - Guhe, E., Der Beitrag der indischen MathernaO
zum Rechnen mit negativen Zahlen (499-507).
Anthropos 101-209
Zeitschriftenschau
355
The Australian Journal of Anthropology
(Sydney)
16. 2005/2
Doron, A., Encountering the “Other:” Pilgrims, Tourists,
and Boatmen in the City of Caranasi (157-178). -
Noszlopy, L., Bazar Big Kites and Other Boys’ Things:
Distinctions of Gender and Tradition in Balinese Youth
Culture (170-197).
Baessler-Archiv (Berlin)
51. 2003
Berger, P., Erdmenschen und Flussbräute. Natur, Um-
welt und Gesellschaft im Hochland von Orissa (7-24).
- Skoda, U., Goddess Laksmî and Her Symbolic Di-
mensions on a Tribal Frontier (25-44). - Hardenberg,
B., Friendship and Violence among the Dongria Kond
[Orissa/India] (45-57). - Often, T., “Heirat auf dem
Weg”. Ein Heilritual im Süden Orissas, Indien (59-75).
" Hatoum, R., Die Omaha “Grass Dance”-Connection;
Der Ursprungsmythos des modernen indianischen Pow-
Wow auf dem Prüfstand (77-103).
Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land-
en Volkenkunde (Dordrecht)
!61. 2005/1
pox, R., Plus ça change... Recent Development in Old
Javanese Studies and Their Implications for the Study
°f Religion in Contemporary Bali (63-97). - Milli, J.,
Syihabuddin, Addendum to Drewes. The Burda of
^1-Busiri and the Miracles of Abdulqadir al-Jaelani in
West-Java (98-126).
B»l. 2005/2-3
eck, H. L., The Rupture between the Muhammadiyah
the Ahmadiya (210-246). - Liebner, H. H., In-
dlgenous Concepts of Orientation of South Sulawesian
ailors (269-317). - Schröter, S., Red Cocks and Black
^ens. Gendered Symbolism, Kinship, and Social Prac-
1Ce in the Ngada Highlands (318-349).
de l’Institut Français
^ Etudes Andines (Lima)
ç2- 2003/2
ele11*1*11’ E., La “Negra Nieves” ou le racisme à fleur
e Peau. Regards croisés sur une caricature (237-262).
^rellano-Hoffmann, C., El juego de Chuncana entre
s Chimü. Un tablero de madera que prueba la hipótesis
e Irland Nordenskiôld (317-345).
¡¡j?’ 2003/3
Mleto, M., Historia natural y la apropiación del Nuevo
g ujido en la Ilustración española (417-429). - Rebok,
s^’ "a expedición americana de Alexander Humboldt y
c°ntribución a la ciencia del siglo XIX (441-458).
Anthropos 101.2006
- Chaumeil, J.-P., Dos visiones del hombre americano.
D’Orbigny, Marcoy y la etnología sudamericana (459-
466).
33. 2004/1
Eeckhout, P., Relatos míticos y prácticas rituales en
Pachacamac (1-54). - Glass-Coffin, B., D. Sharon, S.
Uceda, Curanderas a la sombra de la huaca de la Luna
(81-95). - Argouse, A., Transcription d’un document
inédit : Répartition de Mita en 1666, rationalisation de
l’économie et main-d’œuvre indienne dans le Corregi-
miento de Cajamarca (97-134). - Neira, F., La gestion
des ressources renouvelables ; Vers une gestion patrimo-
niale des écosystèmes (167-191).
Bulletin of the International Committee
on Urgent Anthropological
and Ethnological Research (Wien)
42-43. 2003-2004
Upadhyay, V. S., Alternative Models for Tribal Devel-
opment in India (9-10). - lonesov, V., The Realiza-
tion of Conflict within Post-Primitive Societies (15-27).
- Alembong, N., Culture, Orature, and Personality in
Africa (29-39). - Maralusiddaiah Patel, H. M., R. K.
Sinha, Folk Tradition of Karnataka (41-47). - Duary,
N., S. S. Mahato, The Bow and Arrow: A Dimension
of the Santal Culture (49-60). - Mathur, P. R. G.,
Melakkarar Traditional Musicians of South India (61-
72). - Mathur, P. R. G., Impact of Sanskritization and
Environmental Degradation on the Sacred Groves in
Rural and Tribal Areas of Kerala - A Comparative
Study (73-80). - Upadhyay, V. S., Primitive Tribal
Groups on Jharkhand-I Baiga (91-94). - Upadhyay,
V. S., Primitive Tribal Groups of Jharkhand-II Sauria
Paharia (95-97). - Upadhyay, V. S., Primitive Trib-
al Groups of Jharkhand-III Hill Kharia (99-102). -
Upadhyay, V. S., Juang - A Primitive Tribal Group of
Orissa (103-107). - Aroga, J.D., La spécificité des
contes antillais (109-116). - Santos Barboza, G. dos,
Capueira de Angola (117-120). - Ferrarese Capettini,
S. M., Estudio de algunos juegos y juguetes ancestrales
mapuche “El Komikan” (143-149).
Bulletin of the School of Oriental
and African Studies (London)
68. 2005/1
Alkan, N., “The Eternal Enemy of Islam;” Abdullah
Cevdet and the Baha’i Religion (1-20). - Siddiq, M. Y.,
Calligraphy and Islamic Culture: Reflection on Some
New Epigraphical Discoveries in Gaur and Pandua,
Two Early Capitals of Muslim Bengal (21-58). - Cop-
land, I., What to Do About Cows? Princely versus
British Approaches to a South Asian Dilemma (59-76).
- Iljic, R., Personal Collective in Chinese (77-102).
356
Zeitschriften schau
68. 2005/2
Hirschler, K., Pre-Eighteenth-Century Traditions of
Revivalism: Damascus in the Thirteenth Century (195—
214). - Choksy, J. K., F. M. Kotwal, Praise and Piety:
Niyâyisns and Yasts in the History of Zoroastrian Praxis
(215-252). - Mandair, A.-P. S., The Emergence of
Modern “Sikh Theology:” Reassessing the Passage of
Ideas from Trumpp to Bhâï Vîr Singh (253-275). -
Liang, L., Rejection or Acceptance: Finding Reasons
for the Late Qing Magistrate’s Comments on Land and
Debt Petition (276-294).
Cahiers d’Études Africaines (Paris)
45. 2005/2
Dahou, T., L’espace public face aux apories des études
africaines (327-349). - Eboko, F., Politique publique
et sida en Afrique : De l’anthropologie à la science poli-
tique (351-387). - Fouéré, M.-A., Les métamorphoses
des “relations à plaissanteries” : Un nouvel enjeu poli-
tique dans la construction des Etats-nations (389-430).
- Jones, B., The Church in the Village, the Village in
the Church: Pentecostalism in Teso, Uganda (497-517).
Cahiers de Littérature Orale (Paris)
55. 2004
Bacon, M., L’inconstant Protée ou la métamorphose
des métamorphoses (13-29). - Belmont, N., De “Joli
z-oiseau” en loup-garou. Métamorphoses animales dans
les contes (31-51). - Clame-Griaule, G., D’un sexe à
l’autre. A propos d’un conte dogon (53-71).
Cambridge Anthropology (Cambridge)
25. 2005/1
Course, M., Borges, the Mapuche, and the Mother’s
Brother’s Son (11-30). - Moore, H., The Truths of
Anthropology (52-58).
Canadian Journal of African Studies
(Toronto)
38. 2004/2
Grandhomme, H., La politique musulmane de la
France au Sénégal [1936-64] (237-278). - Lame,
D. de, Mighty Secrets, Public Commensality, and the
Crises of Transparency: Rwanda through the Looking
Glass (279-317). - Schneider, L., Freedom and Un-
freedom in Rural Development; Julius Nyerere, Ujamaa
Vijijini and Villagezation (344-392). - Tvedten, I., “A
Town Is Just a Town;” Poverty and Social Relations of
Migration in Namibia (393-423).
38. 2004/3
Jeeves, A., Assessing a Decade of Democracy in South-
ern Africa (505-520). - Southall, R., Political Change
and the Black Middle Class in Democratic South Africa
(521-542). - Robins, S., B. von Lieres, Remaking
Citizenship, Unmaking Marginalization: The Treatment
Action Campaign in Post-Apartheid South Africa (575-
586). - Kros, C., Ethnic Narcissism and Big Brother:
Culture, Identity, and the State on the New Curriculum
(587-602). - Solway, J., L. Nyati-Ramahobo, Democ-
racy in Process: Building a Coalition to Achieve Politi-
cal, Cultural, and Linguistic Rights in Botswana (603-
621). - Brown, S., “Bom-Again Politicians Hijacked
Our Revolution!” Reassessing Malawi’s Transition to
Democracy (705-722).
Catalyst (Port Moresby)
35. 2005/1
Gibbs, P., “You Have a Baby and I Climb a Tree;”
Gender Relations Perceived Through Enga Proverbs and
Sayings about Women (15-33). - Raima, S., Kwaak:
Witchcraft, Sorcery, and Dispute Settlement (34-51)-
- Zocca, F., West Papua: Between Autonomy and
Independence (52-71).
Central Asiatic Journal (Wiesbaden)
49. 2005/2
Chen, S., Turkic or Proto-Mongolian? A Note on the
Tuoba Language (161-174). - Richtsfeld, B. J., Ge-
sar-Erzâhlungen der Yuuren [VR China] (213-283). "
Wallacker, B. E., R. I. Meserve, The Emperor of China
and the Hobbled Horse of the Xingnu (284-302). "
Zimonyi, I., Ibn Battûta on the First Wife of Ozbek
Khan (303-309).
Chakana (Aachen)
6. 2005/3
Marzouki, A. Y., The Islamic Recurrent Crises. Cultut'
al Heritage and Social Progress (7-26). - Kirabaev, N*>
Islam in the Context of the Dialogue of Cultures between
East and West (27-44). - Taïbi, M. B., Réception et
interprétation du texte coranique : Pour une linguistique
de l’événement (45-63). - Mvumdi, F. N., Islam ^
Africa Today: Some Observations (65-83). - Tria»
W. S., Developing Indigenous Philosophies (85-93)- "
Comblin, J., ¿Crisis de la religion en América Latina-
(125-133).
Comparative Civilizations Review
(Scranton)
52. 2005
Hord, J. K., Did Jerusalem Relocate? (6-45). - Sitf
der, L. D., Modelling History; A Qualitative ApproaC
(46-56). - Wilkinson, D., Fluctuations in the Politic^
Consolidation of Civilizations/World Systems (92- hU'-
Anthropos 101-20^
Zeitschriftenschau
357
Comparative Studies in Society
and History (Cambridge)
47. 2005/2
Berdahl, D., The Spirit of Capitalism and the Bound-
aries of Citizenship in Post-Wall Germany (235-251).
- Newbury, D., Returning Refugees: Four Historical
Patterns of “Coming Home” to Rwanda (252-285). -
Chappell, D., “Africanization” in the Pacific: Blam-
ing Others to Disorder in the Periphery? (286-317).
~ Owensby, B., Toward a History of Brazil’s “Cordial
Racism:” Race beyond Liberalism (318-347). - Ober-
schall, A., M. Seidman, Food Coercion in Revolution
and Civil War: Who Wins and How They Do It (372-
402).
47. 2005/3
Niezen, R., Digital Identity: The Construction of Virtual
Selfhood in the Indigenous Peoples’ Movement (532-
551). - Magnusson, B. A., J. F. Clark, Understanding
democratic Survival and Democratic Failure in Africa:
Insights from Divergent Democratic Experiments in
Renin and Congo [Brazzaville] (552-582).
Congo-Afrique (Kinshasa)
45. 2005/393
Lusala lu ne Nkuka, L., De l’origine égyptienne des
Clvilisation négro-africaines : Part 1 ; Une étude afrocen-
trique des deux mythes (167-178).
45. 2005/394
Shanyungu, M.-W., L’Afrique en dislocations. “La cui-
vre de la paix” comme impératif socio-politique (211 —
22S). - Lusala lu ne Nkuka, L., De l’origine égyptienne
des civilisations négro-africaines : Part 2 : Une étude
afrocentrique du pouvoir dans les deux légendes de
^lungalo et d’Hathor (236-247).
4s* 2005/395
^usala lu ne Nkuka, L., De l’origine égyptienne des
Clvüisation négro-africaines : Part 3 : Une étude afro-
^ntrique de deux contes d’éloge et de l’habileté (303-
4S- 2005/396
boulet, D., Développement durable et obsession de la
^r°issance (324-344). - Lusala lu ne Nkuka, L., De
0rigine égyptienne des civilisations négro-africaines ;
^rt 4 : Une étude afrocentrique de deux contes sur la
ydrité et le mensonge (366-376).
Cultural Anthropology (Arlington)
m’ 2005/2
Mct>ermott Hughes, D., Third Nature: Making Space
Time in the Great Limpopo Conservation Area
57-184) - Kelty, C., Geeks, Social Imaginaries,
pnd Recursive Publics (185-214). - Bissel, W.C.,
n§aging Colonial Nostalgia (215-248). - Buckley,
Anthr°Pos 101.2006
L., Objects of Love and Decay: Colonial Photographs
in a Postcolonial Archive (249-270). - Hasty, J.,
The Pleasures of Corruption: Desire and Discipline in
Ghanaian Political Culture (271-301).
20. 2005/3
Farquhar, J., Q. Zhang, Biopolitical Beijing: Pleasure,
Sovereignty, and Self Cultivation in China’s Capital
(303-327). - Redfield, P., Doctors, Border, and Life
in Crisis (328-361). - Fassin, D., Compassion and Re-
pression: The Moral Economy of Immigration Policies
in France (362-387). - Rhodes, L. A., Changing the
Subject: Conversation in Supermax (388-411). - Butt,
L., “Lipstick Girls” and “Fallen Women:” AIDS and
Conspiratorial Thinking in Papua, Indonesia (412-441).
Culture and Religion (Richmond)
6. 2005/1
Beaman, L. G., Religion and Rights: The Illusion of
Freedom and the Reality (17-29). - Bibins, J., Reli-
gious and Legal Others: Identity, Law, and Representa-
tion in American Christian Right and Neopagan Cultural
Conflicts (31-56). - Johnson, G., Facing Down the
Representation of an Impossibility: Indigenous Respons-
es to a “Universal” Problem in the Repatriation Context
(57-78). - Johnson, P. C., Three Paths to Legal Legit-
imacy: African Diaspora Religions and the State (79-
105). - Peach, L. J., “Sex Slaves” or “Sex Worker?”
Cross-Cultural and Comparative Religious Perspectives
on Sexuality, Subjectivity, and Moral Identity in Anti-
Sex Trafficking Discourse (107-134). - Pink, J., The
Concept of Freedom of Belief and Its Boundaries in
Egypt: The Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Baha’i Faith
between Established Religions and an Authoritarian
State (135-160). - Sands, K. M., A Property to Peculiar
Value: Land, Religion, and the Constitution (161-180).
- Yelle, R. A., Images of Law and Its Others: Canon and
Idolatry in the Discourses of British India (181-199).
- Yu, A. C., China and the Problem of Human Rights;
Ancient Verities and Modem Realities (201-234).
Curare (Wiesbaden)
26.2003/3
Fleurentin, J., Ethics, Regulations, and Development:
New Perspectives in Ethnopharmacology for the Next
Decade (201-211). - Aguirre Marco, C. P., National-
ism and Science: The “New” American Plants in 19th
Century North American Materia Medica (213-220). -
Holmstedt, B., J. G. Bruhn, (Reprint) Ethnopharmacol-
ogy - a Challenge [Is There a Place for Ethnopharma-
cology in Our Time?] (263-268).
27. 2004/1-2
Hadoldt, B., Zur Relevanz der Medical Anthropology:
Beiträge und Herausforderungen für die Sozial- und
Kulturanthropologie (9-26). - Obrist, B., H. Dilger,
W. Bruchhausen, Kranksein, Heilen und Gesundleben
358
Zeitschriftenschau
im Schnittpunkt von Religion und Medizin (27-39). -
Hörbst, V., K. Krause, “On the Move” - Die Globa-
lisierungsdebatte in der Medizinethnologie (41-60). -
Knipper, M., A. Wolf, Methoden und Methodologie in
der medizinethnologischen Forschung (61-72). - Stülb,
M., Y. Adam, “Was arbeiten eigentlich Medizinethno-
loginnen?” Herausforderungen im Spannungsfeld zwi-
schen Forschung und Anwendung (73-88). - Offe, J.,
T. Klein, Medizinethnologische Forschungen in Sub-Sa-
hara Afrika - ein Überblick (89-100). - Delius, M., E.
Kneuper, Medical Anthropology in Europe (101-114).
- Wörrle, B., Lateinamerika - Patienten und Heiler zwi-
schen den medizinischen Systemen (115-127). - Ecks,
S., T. Often, Medizinethnologie Südasien: Ritus, Plura-
lismus, Post-Kolonialismus (129-137). - Eeuwijk, P.
van, V. Keck, Medizinethnologische Forschungen in
Südostasien und Ozeanien (139-158).
Current Anthropology (Chicago)
46. 2005/1
Fouts, H. N., B. S. Hewlett, M. E. Lamb, Parent-Off-
spring Weaning Conflict among the Bofi Farmers and
Foragers of Central Africa (29-50). - Lassiter, L. E.,
Collaborative Ethnography and Public Anthropology
(83-106). - Bähre E., How to Ignore Corruption:
Reporting the Shortcomings of Development in South
Africa (107-120).
46. 2005/3
Carrithers, M., Anthropology as a Moral Science of
Possibilities (433-456).
Eastern Anthropologist (Lucknow)
54. 2001/1
Reddy, N. S., Tribal Sub Plan: Peasant and Practice
in Andhra Pradesh (1-16). - Ray, A., Symbolism in
Primitive Art (17-33). - Chowdhury, A.N., R. K.
Shasmal, J. Ramakrishna, M. G. Weiss, Eco-Stress of
Human Animal Conflict in Sumbardan Delta (35-50).
- Khatua, N., Sickness and Healing among the Hill
Korwa (51-61).
54. 2001/3-4
Bhatt, G. S., Anthropology, Man, Culture, and Dharma
(219-230). - Lau, B. W. K., Does Karma Have a Cor-
responding Construct in the Western Psychology? (231 —
243). - Channa, S. M., The Dalit World View and Self
Identification (243-254). - Sundar, N., Religion and
Culture in Bastar: The Politics of Conversion (255-
272). - Bhadra, M., Changing Attitudes and Marriage
Practices among the Rajbansi of West Bengal (317 —
328).
55. 2002/1
Salamone, F. A., Franz Boas: The Construction of Race
and Origin of African American Studies (1-23). -
Rao, P. V., Globalization and Anthropology: Issues and
Challenges (25-37). - Singh, J. P., Urbanization of
Family in India (39-55).
55. 2002/2-3
Lynch, O. M., Ambedkar Jayanti: Dalit Reritualiza-
tion in Agra (115-132). - Sujatha, V.S., The Other
Backward Class; Composition Characteristics and Em-
powerment (133-144). - Sharma, S. R., The OBCs:
Methodology of Identification and Listing (145-156). -
Vema, J. M. S., Ideologues and Ideologies of the Other
Backward Classes in India (157-175). - Rao, J. V. R.,
Backward Class Mobilization: Marxist and Non-Marxist
Paradigms (177-206). - Hasnain, N., Caste Identity
and Social Boundaries of Backwardness: The Muslim
OBCs (207-217). - Iyer, K. G., Upliftment of the Un-
derprivileged: Routes Taken by the Vanniyer and Ezhava
(219-230).
55. 2002/4
Chatterjee, S. C., Marginalisation of Death and Dying
in Sociological Discourse (311-322). - Khan, A., S.
Ayub, Self-Concept in Eunuchs (351-357).
56. 2003/1
Nadeau, K., Asian Religious Movements for Peace and
Justice and the Human Rights Debate (1-9). - Chan-
na, S. M., Gender, Feminism, and Margaret Mead: Her
Study Sex and Temperament in Three Primitive Soci-
eties (11-28). - Sinha, A. K., B. G. Banerjee, R. N.
Vasisht, Participatory Role of Women in Panchayati Raj
Institutions in Haryana (29-49). - Chowdhury, I. N->
Tortoise: A Psycho-Anthropological Perspective (51-59)-
56. 2003/2-4
Srivastava, Y. K., A Note on the Tribal Situation in
India (163-176). - Burman, B. K. R., Tribal Identity,
Globalisation, and Planned Development (177 — 186)-
— Bhaskar, M., Globalisation and Empowerment of
Capital and Desempowerment of Tribals (187-194)-
- Pingle, U., Empowerment of Tribal Institutions in
Andhra Pradesh (249-260). - Sachchidananda, The
Face of Change in Arunachal (261-269). - Hakim, R*>
Changing Religion and Ritual in a Vasava Bhil Commu-
nity Impacted by Involuntary Resettlement (271—309)*
— Lobo, L., Tribals and Christianity in Gujarat (311"
326). - Chaudhury, S. K., Changing Aspect of Kinship
among Kondhs (327-345). - Misra, P. K., PrimitN6
Tribes in Southern Region: A Case Study (379—389)-
- Sahai, I., S. Maiti, Continuity and Change: Social
Institutions of the Tolcha Bhotia (402-404). - Vaid>
N. K., Tribals, Anthropologists, and Social Activists i*1
India (449-456).
57. 2004/1
Misra, V.N., Contribution of Anthropology and At'
chaeology to Understanding the Evolution of India Soci-
ety (1-27). - Bhattacharya, D. K., Prehistory of lndi‘*
Revisited (28-44). - Sahu, D. R., Caste, Tribe, an
Peasantry in the Emergence of a People’s Moverne11*
(45-59). - Mehrotra, N., Situating Tribal Women (61 "
73). - Richa, Agricultural Myths in Himachal Prade§1
(91-99).
1O1.2006
Anthropos
Zeitschriftenschau
359
57. 2004/2
Srivastava, V. K., Anthropology in India: A Com-
ment (127-152). - Chaudhury, S. N., Democracy at
Grassroots: Panchayats and the Marginalized in Madhya
Pradesh (211-223).
57. 2004/3-4
Copeman, J., The “Hybrid” in Anthropology (285-
302). - Kaur, K., Tradition in the Postmodern Con-
text: Revival or Reconstruction? (303-325). - Khan,
M. I., Social Isolation and Backwardness of an Ethnic
Community: A Case Study (372-335). - Chakrabarti,
P., Use and Abuse of Statistics in Anthropology (337-
346). - Ram, G., Power Patterns in a Tribal Village
Panchayat (377-385).
58. 2005/1
Khare, R. S., Strands in Cultural Imagination: Inter-
preting Scholarly Itineraries in Indian Anthropology (1-
25). - Mohanty, B. B., Policy for Tribal Development:
Protective Discrimination or Discrimination Protected?
(27-59). - Prakash, P. V., “Sacred Structures” and
Their Ethnoarchaeological and Ethnohistorical Signifi-
cance (61-78). - Akundy, A., Ritual, Narrative, and the
Continuum: Anthropology of a Goddess Festival (79-
90).
Erdkunde (Bonn)
s9. 2005/2
^°tt, A., Kulturgeographie beobachtet. Probleme und
Potentiale der geographischen Beobachtung von Kultur
(89-101).
Ethnic and Racial Studies
(Henley-on-Thames)
28. 2005/4
ke, K. M., Racial Violence in the United States
(599-619). - O’Grady, A., N. Balmer, B. Carter, P.
kasence, A. Buck, H. Genn, Institutional Racism and
ivil Justice (620-638). - Haugen, H. O., J. Carling,
n the Edge of the Chinese Diaspora: The Surge of
aihuo Business in an African City (639-662). - Toklu-
°glu, C., Definitions of National Identity, Nationalism,
^0 Ethnicity in Post-Soviet Azerbaijan in the 1990s
'22-758).
2.005/s
arikoo, N., Gender and Ethnic Identity among Sec-
^d-Generation Indo Caribbean (803-831). - Pero, D.,
t-Wing Politics, Civil Society, and Immigration in
tah: The Case of Bologna (832-858).
28- 2005/6
^°rtes, A., R. G. Rumbaut, Introduction: The Second
eneration and the Children of Immigrants Longitudinal
YyU(|y (983-999). - Portes, A., P. Fernandez-Kelly,
^ * **aHer, Segmented Assimilation on the Ground: The
l(kn ^econ^ Generation in Early Adulthood (1000-
T ~ Rumbaut, R. G., Turning Points in the Tran-
Anthropos 101.2006
sition to Adulthood: Determinants of Educational At-
tainment, Incarceration, and Early Childbearing among
Children of Immigrants (1041-1086). - Feliciano, C.,
R. G. Rumbaut, Gendered Paths: Educational and Oc-
cupational Expectations and Outcomes among Adult
Children of Immigrants (1087-1118). - Zhou, M., Y. S.
Xiong, The Multifaceted American Experiences of the
Children of Asian Immigrants: Lessons for Segmented
Assimilation (1119-1152). - Fernandez-Kelly, P., L.
Konczal, “Murdering the Alphabet” Identity and En-
trepreneurship among Second-Generation Cubans, West
Indians, and Central Americans (1153-1181). - Haller,
W., P. Landolt, The Transnational Dimensions of Iden-
tity Formation: Adult Children of Immigrants in Miami
(1182-1214).
Ethnography (London)
5. 2004/4
Wacquant, L., Following Pierre Bourdieu into the Field
(367-414). - Bourdieu, P., Algerian Landing (415 —
443). - Bourdieu P., A. Sayad, Colonial Rule and
Cultural Sabir (445-486). - Yacine, T., Pierre Bour-
dieu in Algeria in War: Notes on the Birth of an
Engaged Ethnosociology (487-509). - Mammeri, M.,
P. Bourdieu, Dialogue on Oral Poetry (511-551). -
Silverstein, P., Of Rooting and Uproooting; Kabyle
Habitus, Domesticity, and Structural Nostalgia (553-
578). - Bourdieu, P., The Peasant and His Body (579-
599). - Bourdieu, P., M. C. Bourdieu, The Peasant and
Photography (601-616). - Bourdieu, P., The Odyssey
of Reappropriation (617-621).
6. 2005/1
Gupta, A., Narratives of Corruption: Anthropological
and Fictional Accounts of the Indian State (5-34). -
Fechter, A.-M., The “Other” Stares Back: Experiencing
Whiteness in Jakarta (87-103). - Parish, J., Witchcraft,
Riches, and Roulette: An Ethnography of West African
Gambling in the UK (105-122).
Ethnohistory (Durham)
52. 2005/2
Langfur, H., Moved by Terror: Violence as Cultural
Exchange in Late-Colonial Brazil (255-289). - Nadas-
dy, P., Transcending the Debate over the Ecologically
Noble Indian: Indigenous Peoples and Environmental-
ism (291-331). - Waddell, G., Cofitachequi: A Dis-
tinctive Culture, Its Identity, and the Location (333-
369). - Kelm, M.-E., Diagnosing the Discursive Indian
Medicine, Gender, and the “Dying Race” (371-406).
52. 2005/3
Hackett, P., Historical Mourning Practices Observed
among the Cree and Ojibway Indians of the Central
Subarctic (503-532). - Warburton, M., R. M. Begay,
An Exploration of Navajo-Anasazi Relationships (533-
561). - Hajda, Y. P., Slavery in the Greater Lower
Columbia Region (563-588).
360
Zeitschriftenschau
Ethnology (Pittsburgh)
43. 2004/4
Ploeg, A., Wealth Items in the Western Highlands of
West Papua (291-313). - Traphaban, J. W., Inter-
pretations of Elder Suicide, Stress, and Dependency
among Rural Japanese (315-329). - Schrift, M., The
Angola Prison Rodeo: Inmate Cowboys and Institutional
Tourism (331-344). - Niehaus, I., J. Stadler, Muchon-
golo Dance Contests: Deep Play in the South African
Lowveld (363-380).
44. 2005/1
Shu-min, H., The Articulation of Culture, Agriculture,
and the Environment of Chinese in Northern Thailand
(1-11). - Stewart, P.J., A. Strathern, Cosmology,
Resources, and Landscape: Agencies of the Dead and
the Living in Duna, Papua New Guinea (35-47). -
Hangen, S., Race and Politics of Identity in Nepal (49-
64). - Chan, S. C., Temple-Building and Heritage in
China (65-79). - Jankowiak, W., M. Sudakov, B. C.
Wilrecker, Co-Wife Conflict and Co-Operation (81-
98).
Ethnomusicology (Bloomington)
49. 2005/2
Chen, Pi-yen, Buddhist Chant, Devotional Song, and
Commercial Popular Music; From Ritual to Rock
Mantra (266-286). - Koen, B. D., Medical Ethnomu-
sicology in the Pamir Mountains: Music and Prayer in
Healing (287-311).
Ethnos (Stockholm)
70. 2005/2
Kohn, E. O., Runa Realism: Upper Amazonian Atti-
tudes to Nature Knowing (171-196). - Boyer, D., The
Corporeality of Expertise (243-266).
70. 2005/3
Rival L., The Attachment of the Soul to the Body
among the Huaorani of Amazonian Ecuador (285-
310). - McCallum, C., A. P. dos Reis, Childbirth as
Ritual in Brazil: Young Mothers’ Experiences (335-
360). - Shannon, J. H., Metonyms of Modernity in
Contemporary Syrian Music and Painting (361-386).
- Rutherford, D., Frontiers of the Lingua Franca:
Ideologies of the Linguistic Contact Zone in Dutch New
Guinea (387-412).
Ethos (London)
33. 2005/1
Hruschka, D. J., D. H. Lende, C. M. Worthman,
Biocultural Dialogues. Biology and Culture in Psy-
chological Anthropology (1-19). - Dressier, W. W.,
What’s Cultural about Biocultural Research? (20-45).
- Leatherman, T., A Space of Vulnerability in Poverty
and Health: Political-Ecology and Biocultural Analysis
(46-70). - Seligman, R., Distress, Dissociation, and
Embodied Experience: Reconsidering the Pathways to
Mediumship and Mental Health (71-99). - Lende,
D. H., Wanting and Drug Use. A Biocultural Approach
to the Analysis of Addiction (100-124). - Kohrt, B. A.,
R. D. Kunz, J. L. Bahtwin, N. R. Koirala, V. D. Shar-
ma, M. K. Nepal, “Somatization” and “Comorbidity:”
A Study of Jhum-Jhum and Depression in Rural Nepal
(125-147).
33. 2005/2
Port, M. van de, Circling around the Really Real:
Spirit Possession Ceremonies and the Search for Au-
thenticity in Bahian Candomblé (149-179). - Clark,
C. D., Tricks of Festival: Children, Enculturation, and
American Halloween (180-205). - Robarchek, C., C.
Robarchek, Waorani Grief and the Witch-Killer’s Rage:
Worldview, Emotion, and Anthropological Explanation
(206-230). - Phillips, W., Cravings, Marks, and Open
Pores: Acculturation and Preservation of Pregnancy-Re-
lated Beliefs and Practices among Mothers of African
Descent in the United States (231-255). - Wierzbicka,
A., Empirical Universals of Language as a Basis for the
Study of Other Human Universals and as a Tool for
Exploring Cross-Cultural Differences (256-291).
33. 2005/3
Rohner, R. P., A. Khaleque, D. E. Cournoyer, Parental
Acceptance-Rejection; Theory, Methods, a Cross-Cul-
tural Evidence, and Implications (299-334). - Kim?
E. , Korean American Parental Control: Acceptance or
Rejection (347-366). - Rohner, R. P., A. Khaleque?
M. N. Riaz, U. Khan, S. Sadeque, H. Laukkala?
Agreement between Children’s and Mothers’ Percep-
tions of Maternal Acceptance and Rejection: A Compar-
ative Study in Finland and Pakistan (367-377). - Par-
mar, P., R. P. Rohner, Relations among Perceived Inti-
mate Partner Acceptance, Remembered Parental Accep-
tance, Psychological Adjustment among Young Adults
in India (402-413). - Varan, A., Relation between
Perceived Acceptance and Intimate Partner Acceptance
in Turkey: Does History Repeat Itself? (413-426).
Etnofoor (Amsterdam)
17. 2004/1-2
Meijer, R., “Defending Our Honor.” Authenticity and
Framing of Resistance in the Iraqi Sunni Town of Fallnja
(23-43). - Verkaaik, O., Purity and Transgression'
Sacred Violence and the Quest for Authenticity (44^
57). - Ginkel, R. van, The Makah Whale Hunt an
Leviathan’s Death. Reinventing Tradition and Disput'
ing Authenticity in the Age of Modernity (58-89)- "
Schröder, I. W., Parades and Beauty Pageants. Encoun-
tering Authentic White Mountains Apache Culture 111
Unexpected Places (116-132). - Witte, M. de, Africa
nia’s Dilemma. Reframing African Authenticity m
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
361
Christian Public Sphere (133-155). - Schramm, K.,
Senses of Authenticity. Chieftaincy and the Politics of
Heritage in Ghana (156-177).
Études et Documents Balkaniques
et Méditerranéens (Paris)
29. 2005
Chelcea, L., S. Chelcea, Psychosociological Interpre-
tation of the Myth-Legend on Ngru Vodâ (31-40). -
Pavkovic, N. F., La propriété communautaire en You-
goslavia contemporaine (55-62). - Stahl, H. H., P. H.
Stahl, Les crises “post-dictatoriales” de chaos social
(63-70).
Folia Linguistica Historica (Poznan)
25. 2004/1-2
Ogura, M., Evolution of Word Order (21-39). - As-
ki, J. M., Usage-Based Analysis of Multiple Outcomes:
The Cognitive, Phonetic, and Social Aspects of Sound
Change (41-67). - Scheer, T., How Minimal is Phono-
logical Change? (69-114).
Folklore (London)
116. 2005/1
Hall, A., Getting Shot of Elves: Witchcraft and Fairies
in the Scottish Witchcraft Trials (10-36). - Smith,
J. B., The Devil of Croyden Hill: Kinship, Fiction, Fact,
Tradition (66-74).
Études Inuit (Québec)
28. 2004/2
^porta, C., Routes, Trails, and Tracks: Trail Break-
'ng among the Inuit of Igloolik (9-38). - Keith, D.,
Caribou, River, and Ocean Harvaqtuurmiut Landscape
Organization and Orientation (39-56). - Jones, H. G.,
^he Inuit as Geographers: The Case of Eenooloopik
(57-72). - Müller-Wille, L., Toponymies of Lesser-
Csed Languages in the North Issue of Socio-Linguistic
Conditions among Inuit and Sami (73-88). - Collignon,
“•> Recueillir les toponymes inuit. Pour quoi faire ? (89—
(06). _ Anglure, B. S. de, La toponymie religieuse et
aPpropriation symbolique du territoire par les Inuit
Nunavik et du Nanavut (107-131). - Lee, D. S.,
C*W. Wenzel, Narwhal Hunting by Pond Inlet Inuit:
Analysis of Foraging Mode in the Floe-Edge Envi-
ronnent (133-156). - Fortescue, M., How Far West
Asia Have Eskimo Languages Been Spoken and
Which Ones? (159-183).
°^a Linguistica (Berlin)
H 2005/l-2
üntig!, F H Gruber,
Introduction: Approaches to
enre (l-fg). _ Yentola, E., Revisiting Service En-
j ^nter Genre: Some Reflections (19-43). - Lemke,
L •» Multimedia Genres and Traversals (45-56). -
Off Co*m’ K., What Communication Linguistics Has to
jj Genre and Register Research (57-75). - Gruber,
Te*5 " Muntigl, Generic and Rhetorical Structures of
k k' ^Wo Sides of the Same Coin (75-113). - Ber-
Cen °^er’ L., A. Haertling Thein, Settings, Speech
(ll5res, and the Institutional Organization of Practices
“Di 'l42)- ~ Bührig, K., “Speech Action Pattern,” and
CovC°Urse TyPes” (143-171). - Held, G., Magazine
Stiue- ~ A Multimodel Pretext-Genre (173-196). -
ar’ Gk, Loops as Genre Resources (197-212).
Aath,
r°Pos 101.2006
Frankfurter Afrikanistische Blätter (Köln)
16. 2004
Gerhardt, L., Das einzige Mittel richtiger Erkenntnis
und friedlichen, freundlichen Verkehrs im Menschenle-
ben - H. Barth und die afrikanischen Sprachen (17-
28). - Ibriszimo, D., D. Löhr, Types, Patterns, and
Kinds of Lexical Distribution and Their Correlations
(29-50). - Mtaku, C. Y., The Role of Food in Funerals
in Northeast Nigeria: Some Selected Cases (77-83).
- Rothmaler, E., The Situation of Kanuri in Prima-
ry Schools in Maiduguri (85-92). - Wade, J. H., M.
Galántha, Weaving Symbols - Textiles for the Living
and the Dead among the Fali of the Mandara Mountains
(93-131).
Geo (Hamburg)
6. 2005
Aehnlich, K., Die Akte “Himmelsscheibe” (154-170).
8. 2005
Riedle, G., E. Kapitza, “Buddhismus.” Teil 2: Buddhis-
mus als Staatsreligion. Die politische Macht der Mönche
auf Sri Lanka (36-60).
9. 2005
Bartletti, D., G. Riedle, “Buddhismus.” Teil 3: Mit
tibetischen Pilgern ins Zwischenreich von Leben und
Tod (14-38). - Sinclair, S., F. Sahil, A. Böhm, Af-
ghanistan. Tod im Feuer: Die Verzweiflung der Frauen
von Herat (94-114).
10. 2005
Maximishin, S., J.-U. Albig, Moskau; Bauwut, Wirt-
schaftsboom und die Wiederentdeckung der russischen
Seele (58-80). - Romberg, J., B. Steinhilber, Wo
Heimat liegt. Die Geschichte eines deutschen Begriffs
(103-119). - Meckel, D., W. Michal, Experte für Wer-
te. Aus dem Alltag eines Heimatpflegers (122-130).
- Zapt^ioglu, D., Endlich ankommen. Von türkischer
Heimat in Deutschland (132-138). - Sparmann, A.,
362
Zeitschriftenschau
Etwas Besseres als den Tod findet Ihr überall. Ketten-
wanderung von Laer in die USA (140-146). - Brei-
denbach, J., P. Nyiri, Tiger an der Donau. Was die
Chinesen in Ungarn schafften (148-154). - Tast, I., S.
Miguel, J. Miguel, F. Braz, Ein Haus, viele Welten.
Neun Hamburger erzählen von zu Hause (156-161).
History of Religions (Chicago)
44. 2005/4
Mandair, A., The Repetition of Past Imperialisms:
Hegel, Historical Difference, and the Theorization of In-
die Religions (277-299). - Moazami, M., Evil Animals
in the Zoroastrian Religion (300-317). - Lo, Y. K.,
Recovering a Buddhist Voice on Daughters-in-Law: The
Yuyenii ling (318-350).
45. 2005/1
Jackson, P., Retracing the Path: Gesture, Memory,
and the Exegesis of Tradition (1-28). - Liu, Y.,
Seeing God Differently; Chinese Piety and European
Modernity (29-44). - Gray, D. B., Eating the Heart
of the Brahmin: Representations of Alterity and the
Formation of Identity in Tantric Buddhist Discourse
(45-69).
L’Homme (Paris)
2005/174
Belmont, N., “Moitié d’homme” dans les contes de
tradition orale (11-21). - Headley, S. C., Ébauches
d’hommes, sociétés et corps inachevés (23-44). - Bar-
raud, C., Symétrie, dissymétrie et hiérarchie. Histoire
“D’un Côté” dans la société de Kei [Moluques, Insu-
linde] (45-73). - Macdonald, C., Du corps déconstruit
au corps reconstruit. Mythologie du corps morcelé aux
Philippines et à Bornéo (75-101). - Prager, M., Half-
Men, Trickster, and Dismembered Maidens. The Cos-
mological Transformation of Body and Society in We-
male Mythology (103-124). - Platenkamp, J. D. M.,
Des personnes incomplètes aux sociétés accomplies
(125-160). - Headley, S. C., Des hommes incomplèts
à Java. Engendrement, nourritures et assemblage (161 —
201).
Indiana (Berlin)
21. 2004
Kawal Leal Ferreira, M., The Color Red: Fighting with
Flowers and Fruits in Xavante Territory, Central Brazil
(47-62). - Prinz, U., El arte de la apropiación. Libros
de texto y tradiciones locales en el alto Xingu (63-77).
- Suhrbier, M., To Be Made and to Be Drawn - The
Twofold Existence of Objects (79-94). - Schneider, A.,
Rooting Hybridity: Globalisation and the Challenges of
Mestizaje and Crisol de Razas for Contemporary Artists
in Ecuador and Argentina (95-112). - Lea, V., Mében-
gokre Ritual Wailing and Flagellation: A Performative
Outlet for Emotional Self-Expression (113-125). - Polo
Müller, R., Danyas Indigenas: Arte e cultura, histöria e
performance (127-137).
International Journal of American
Linguistics (Chicago)
71. 2005/1
Davis, H., On the Syntax and Semantics of Negation
in Salish (1-55). - Yasugi, Y., Fronting of Nondirect
Arguments and Adverbial Focus Marking on the Verb
in Classical Yucatec (56-86).
71. 2005/2
Meira, S., B. Franchetto, P. Proulx, The Southern
Caribbean Languages and the Caribbean Family (127—
192).
Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations
(Birmingham)
16. 2005/2
Bakar, O., The Impact of the American War on Terror
on Malaysian Islam (107-127). - Shlala Leo, E., Islam-
ic Female Sexuality and Gender in Modem Feminist In-
terpretation (129-140). - Ataman, K., Re-Reading al-
Birünî’s India: A Case for Intercultural Understanding
(141-154). - Henderson, R. P., The Egyptian Coptic
Christians: The Conflict between Identity and Equality
(155-166). - Schumm, W. R., A. D. Ferguson, M. S*
Hashmat, T. L. New, Differences in Paradox between
Islam and Christianity: A Statistical Comparison (167—
185).
16. 2005/3
Kyriakides-Yeldham, A., Islamic Medical Ethics and
the Straight Path of God (213-225). - Afnan, M., Reli-
gious Belief, Ethics, Biological Principles, and Assisted
Conception (227-238). - Hussain, A. A., EnsoulmeU
and the Prohibition of Abortion in Islam (239-250)-
- Rasekh, M., The Problem of Abortion: Jurispruden-
tial or Philosophical? (251-264). - Jones, D. A., The
Appeal to the Christian Tradition in the Debate aboU
Embryonic Stem Cell Research (285-295). - Fateh1*»
S. M. G. S., Egg and Embryo Implantation: A Compara'
five Study of Shi'ite Teachings and Kantian Ethics (297"
312).
16. 2005/4
Osman, G., Foreign Slaves in Mecca and Medina in
Formative Islamic Period (345-359). - Sirry,
Early Muslim-Christian Dialogue: A Closer Look a
Major Themes of the Theological Encounter (361-3/b/’
- ter Haar Romeny, B., From Religious Association ^
Ethnic Community: A Research Project on Identity F°r
mation among the Syrian Orthodox under Muslim Ru
(377-399). - Sukidi, The Travelling Idea of Island
Protestantism: A Study of Iranian Luthers (401-41
Anthropos 101
20$
Zeitschriftenschau
363
- Mirza, Y., Abraham as an Iconoclast: Understanding
the Destruction of “Images” through Qur’anic Exegesis
(413-428).
The Islamic Quarterly (London)
49. 2005/1
Dien, M. L, Theology, Practice, and Textual Interpreta-
tion in Islam (5-16). - Masadeh, W., Islamic Education
and the Choosing of Good Friends (17-33). - Alhasan,
A. D. E., The Role of Islamic Education in Crime Pre-
vention (35-63).
49. 2005/2
Haque, M., Islamic Education, Qur’anic Schools (Ma-
drasahs) and Terrorism (87-99). - Soualhi, Y., Funda-
mentals and Fundamentalism: An Islamic Politico-Legal
Analysis (123-145). - Behairy, H., Introduzione alia
cultura giuridica islamica: Chiavi di lettura (157-174).
JASO (Oxford)
31. 2000/1
Montgomery, H., Becoming Part of This World: An-
thropology, Infancy, and Childhood (15-30). - Belaun-
^e> L. E., Women’s Strength: Unassisted Births among
the Piro of Amazonian Peru (31-43). - McKechnie, R.,
^he Identification of Menstrual Change: Working with
biographies of Reproduction (45-65).
3L 2000/2
f ara, P. de, Wittgenstein and Evans-Pritchard on Ritu-
ah Twenty-Two Reasons to Think that Wittgenstein Was
atl Anthropologist (119-132). - Iguchi, K., Reading
ab°ut Practice: Amateur Students of the Noh Flute in
Kyoto (133-148). - Llobera, J. R., From Micro to
^acro: An Unsolved Problem in British Anthropology
49-166). - Sarro, R., The Throne and the Belly: Baga
ofions of Morality and Personhood (167-184).
2000/3
>enhardt, G., Dinkas: People of the Southern Sudan,
dited with an Introduction by Ahmed A-Shahi and
^remy Coote (257-276). - Brown, A., J. Coote, C.
°sden, Tylor’s Tongue: Material Culture, Evidence,
hnv .^°c’ai Networks (257-276). - Katchka, K., Ex-
. hing “the Popular:” Urban Cultures and Globalism
n bostcolonial West Africa (329-343).
^°Urnal Asiatique (Paris)
**•2005/1
* OV| cj T
Uj ’ Les fleurs dans la culture khmère (45-98). -
O Ri tuai Calendar: Change in the Conception of
eh rnand ^Pace (99-124). - Vaissière, E. de la, Mani
hlne au Vie siècle (357-378).
nthr°Pos 101.2006
Journal des Africanistes (Paris)
74. 2004/1-2
Bazin, J., L’état avec ou sans cité (49-55). - Holder,
G., La cité comme statut politique ; Places publiques,
pratiques d’assemblée et citoyenneté au Mali (56-95).
- Olivier, E., La petite musique de la ville. Musique
et construction de la citadinité à Djenné [Mali] (97-
123). - Martineau, J.-L., L’espace yoruba (fin XXe
siècle-1960). Oba, cités et processus de construction
ethnique (125-157). - Müller, B., L’année prochaine à
Ile-Ife! La ville idéale dans la construction de l’identi-
té yoruba (159-179). - Pescheux, G., Centre, limite,
frontière dans le royaume Asante précolonial ( 180—
201). - Dugast, S., Une agglomération très rurale : Lien
clanique et lien territorial dans la ville de Bassar [Togo]
(203-248).
The Journal of African History
(Cambridge)
46. 2005/1
Vansina, J., Ambaca Society and the Slave Trade
c. 1760-1845 (1-27).
Journal of American Folklore (Washington)
118. 2005/468
Tucker, E., J. I. Langlois, Emerging Legends in Con-
temporary Society (129-140). - Leary, J. P., Storvikan
in the Old World and the New (141-163). - Lindahl,
C., Ostensive Healing: Pilgrimage to the San Antonio
Ghost Tracks (164-185). - Tücker, E., Ghosts in Mir-
rors: Reflections of the Self (186-203). - Baker, R. L.,
Miracle Magazine in the Sixties: Mass Media Narra-
tives of Healings and Blessings (204-218). - Langlois,
J. I., “Celebrating Arabs:” Tracking Legend and Rumor
Labyrinths in Post-9/11-Detroit (219-236).
Journal of Anthropological Research
(Albuquerque)
61. 2005/1
Silverstein, M., The Poetics of Politics: “Theirs” and
“Ours” (1-24). - Fowles, S. M., Historical Contingency
and the Prehistoric Foundations of Moiety Organization
among the Eastern Pueblos (25-52). - Dicksoln, D. B.,
J. Olsen, P. F. Dahm, M. S. Wachtel, Where Do You
Go When You Die? (53-79).
The Journal of Asian Studies (Ann Arbor)
63. 2005/1
Goodman, B., The New Woman Commits Suicide:
The Press, Cultural Memory, and the New Republic
(67-101). - Menon, K. D., “We Will Become Jijabai:”
364
Zeitschriftenschau
Historical Tales of Hindu Nationalist Women in India
(103-126). - Gold, D., The Sufi Shrines of Gwalior
City: Communal Sensibilities and the Accessible Exotic
under Hindu Rule (127-150).
Journal of Contemporary Religion
(London)
20. 2005/2
Martin, D., Secularisation and the Future of Christianity
(145-160). - Pereira, A. A., Religiosity and Economic
Development in Singapore (161-177). - Draulans, V.,
L. Halman, Mapping Contemporary Europe’s Moral
and Religious Pluralist Landscape: An Analysis Based
on the Most Recent European Values Study Data (179—
193). - Poewe, K., I. Hexham, Jacob Wilhelm Hauer’s
New Religion and National Socialism (195-215). -
Cahn, P. S., Saints with Glasses: Mexican Catholics in
Alcoholics Anonymous (217-229). - Redden, G., New
Age: Towards a Market Model (231-246).
20. 2005/3
Singleton, M., Salvation through Relaxation: Proprio-
ceptive Therapy and Its Relationship to Yoga (289-
304). - Hasselle-Newcombe, S., “Spirituality and Mys-
tical Religion” in Contemporary Society: A Case Study
of British Practitioners of the Iyengar Method of Yoga
(305-321). - Collins, P., Thirteen Ways of Looking
at a “Ritual” (323-342). - Day, A., Doing Theodicy:
An Empirical Study of a Women’s Player Group (343-
356). - Gilliat-Ray, S., “Sacralising” Sacred Space in
Public Institutions: A Case Study of the Prayer Space at
the Millennium Dome (357-372).
Journal of Mediterranean Studies
(Letchworth)
13. 2003/2
Theodossopoulos, D., Degrading Others and Honouring
Ourselves: Ethnic Stereotypes as Categories and as
Explanations (177-188). - Jansen, S., “Why Do They
Hate Us?” Everyday Serbian Nationalist Knowledge of
Muslim Hatred (215-237).
14. 2004/1-2
Schwarz, R., The Invention of the Arab State: Regime
Security and Changing Patterns of Legitimacy (181 —
212). - O’Sullivan, D., Hisba Law and Freedom of
Expression in Islam: Two Case Studies of Prosecution
in Contemporary Egypt (213-235). - Pratt, N., Un-
derstanding Political Transformation in Egypt: Advo-
cacy NGOs, Civil Society and the State (237-262). -
Maghraoui, A., Negotiating Identity in the Post-Co-
lonial Arab World: Clues from Psychoanalytic Theory
(263-287).
Journal of Religion in Africa (Leiden)
35. 2005/2
Gray, N., Independent Spirits: The Politics of Policing
Anti Witchcraft Movements in Colonial Ghana, 1908-
1927 (139-158). - Schwartz, N., Dreaming in Col-
or: Anti-Essentialism in Legio Maria Dream Narratives
(159-196). - Spierenburg, M., Spirits and Land Re-
forms: Conflicts about Land in Dande, Northern Zim-
babwe (197-231).
35. 2005/3
Ishii, M., From Wombs to Farmland: The Transforma-
tion of Suman Shrines in Southern Ghana (266-295). -
Newell, S., Devotion and Domesticity: The Reconfigu-
ration of Gender in Popular Christian Pamphlets from
Ghana and Nigeria (296-323). - Heuser, A., Memory
Tales: Representations of Shembe in the Cultural Dis-
course of African Renaissance (362-387).
The Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute (London)
11. 2005/2
Niehaus, I., Witches and Zombies of the South African
Lowveld: Discourse, Accusations, and Subjective Reali-
ty (191-210). - Leopold, M., “Why Are We Cursed?”:
Writing History and Making Peace in North West Ugan-
da (211 -229). - Holbraad, M., Expending Multiplicity:
Money in Cuban Ifa Cults (231-254). - Glaskin, K., In-
novation and Ancestral Revelation: The Case of Dreams
(297-314). - Carrier, J. G., D. V. L. MacLeod, Burst-
ing the Bubble: The Socio-Cultural Context of Eco-
tourism (315-334). - Cannell, F., The Christianity of
Anthropology (335-356).
11. 2005/3
Rio, K., Discussion around a Sand Drawing: Creations
of Agency and Society in Melanesia (401-423).
Asch, M., Lévi-Strauss and the Political; The Elemem
tary Structures of Kinship and the Resolution of Re'
lations between Indigenous People and Settler States
(425-444). - Vilaça, A., Chronically Unstable Bodies-
Reflections on Amazonian Corporalities (445-464). "
Copeman, J., Veinglory: Exploring Processes of Blooo
Transfer between Persons (465-485). - Henkel, H*’
“Between Belief and Unbelief Lies the Performance °
Salât” - Meaning and Efficacy of a Muslim Ritual (487"
507). - Schlecker, M., Going Back a Long Way: “Hoir16
Place,” Thrift and Temporal Orientations in Norther11
Vietnam (509-526). - MacClancy, J., The Literary
Image of Anthropology (549-575).
KAS Auslandsinformationen
(Sankt Augustin)
4. 2005
Hofmeister, W., Halbzeit mit Licht und Schatten. ™
zweite Regierungsjahr von Präsident Lula da SiWa
Anthropos 101-200
Zeitschriftenschau
365
Brasilien (4-22). - Warkotsch, A., Russlands südkau-
kasische Peripherie (68-75).
6. 2005
Bardakoglu, A., Religion, Erneuerung und modernes
Leben (86-99). - Wolff, A., Ein Buch über die Türkei.
Tanzimat. Der erste Versuch einer Modernisierung in der
Türkei (100-121).
7. 2005
Veen, H.-J., Die Entwicklung der Parteisysteme in den
Postkommunistischen EU-Beitrittsländem - Eine ver-
gleichende Analyse ihrer Errungenschaften und Defizite
(22-39). - Ernst, O., Präsidentschaftswahlen im Iran.
Die soziale Frage und das Nuklearprogramm bestimmen
die Agenda Ahmadinedschads (40-59).
9. 2005
Buthelezi, M., Herausforderungen und Betätigungsfel-
der für afrikanische Oppositionsparteien (4-18). - Ost-
heimer, А. E., Südafrikas politische Kultur. Vom Befrei-
ungskampf über die Transformation zur demokratischen
Konsolidierung (19-43). - Achu, K., Eine Politik der
Keformorientierten Mitte in Afrika. Inhalte und Her-
ausforderungen (44-70). - Weig, B., Andine Revolu-
tionen? Indigenas, Politik und Institutionenschwäche in
Bolivien und Ekuador (94-106).
Language (Baltimore)
8L 2005/2
^ronoff, M., I. Meir, W. Sandler, The Paradox of
Sign Language Morphology (301-344). - Kennedy,
L. McNally, Scale Structure, Degree Modification,
und the Semantics of Gradable Predicates (345-381). -
Nakhleh, L., D. Ringe, T. Warnov, Perfect Phylogenet-
lc Networks: A New Methodology for Reconstructing
Evolutionary History of Natural Languages (382-
?*• 2005/3
uLkushima, K., Lexical V-V Compounds in Japanese:
®xicon vs Syntax (568-612). - Baayen, R. H., F.
^*°scoso del Prado Martin, Semantic Density and
ust-Tense Formation in Three Germanic Languages
1^66-698).
Latin American Indian Literatures Journal
leaver Falls)
2005/1
Arn*1^08^’ ^., The Primordial Flood of Izhu; An
^ uzonian Quichua Myth Narrative (1-20). - Gubler,
qJ, anchez de Aguilar and His Informe contra Idolorum
$H)0reS' Kight to Judge and Punish “Idolatry” (21-
jilu- " Tola, F. C., Socialidad en el mito: Hombres,
Kres y animales desde la perspectiva toba (59-79).
Anthropos 101.2006
Maghreb Machrek (Paris)
183. 2005
Amghar, S., Les nouvelles voies de l’islam de France
(9-12). - Frégosik, F., Les musulmans laïques, une
mouvance plurielle et paradoxale (33-43). - Boube-
keur, A., L’islam est-il soluble dans le Mecca Cola ?
Marché de la culture islamique et nouveaux supports
de religiosité en Occident (45-65). - Amiraux, V.,
Existe-t-il une discrimination religieuse des musulmans
en France ? (67-81).
184. 2005
Martel, A., La Libye, vingt ans après [1986-2005] (15-
26). - Zoubir, Y., Islamisme radical et lutte antiterro-
riste (53-65).
The Mankind Quarterly (Washington)
45. 2005/3
Collins, D. A., The Great Population Debate: An Opin-
ion Paper (257-269). - Mackey, W. C., R. S. Immer-
man, The Fertility Paradox: Gender, Roles, Fertility,
and Cultural Evolution (271-287). - Cairns Jr., J.,
The Crucial Link between Natural Systems and Society
(289-308). - Kiinnap, A., The Western Contact Field
of the Uralic Languages (329-344).
45. 2005/4
Doss, M., Religious Practices of the Narikoravas (381 —
388). - Murove, M. F., The Incarnation of Max Weber’s
Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism in Post-Co-
lonial Sub-Saharan African Economic Discourse: The
Quest for an African Economic Ethic (389-407).
Max Planck Institute for Social
Anthropology. Working Papers (Halle)
68. 2004
Dungadu, D., Alternative Modernities in Europe. Mo-
dernity, Religion, and Secularization in South-Eastern
Europe: The Romanian Case (1-20).
70. 2004
Konstantinov, Y., Towards a Model of Comparing
Transitional Forms in Russian Reindeer Herding (1 -17).
71. 2005
Pelkmans, M., Baptized Georgian: Religious Conver-
sion to Christianity in Autonomous Ajaria (1-30).
72. 2005
Pirie, F., Feuding, Mediation, and the Negotiation of
Authority among the Nomads of Eastern Tibet (1-30).
The Muslim World (Hartford)
95. 2005/2
Perry, M. E., Between Muslim and Christian Worlds:
Moriscas and Identity in Early Modem Spain (177-
366
Zeitschriften schau
198). - Christodouleas, T. R., N. Matar, The Mary
of the Sacromonte (199-215). - Lebbady, H., Of
Women-Centred Moroccan Tales and Their Imagined
Communities (217-230). - Malieckal, B., Muslims,
Matriliny, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream: European
Encounters with the Mappilas of Malabar, India (297 -
316).
95. 2005/3
Saritoprak, Z., S. Griffith, Fethullah Gillen and the
“People of the Book:” A Voice from Turkey for Inter-
faith Dialogue (329-340). - Michel, T., Sufism and
Modernity in the Thought of Fethullah Gillen (341 —
358).
National Geographic (Hamburg)
2005/5
Hitchcock, S. T., J. L. Esposito, Die Weltreligionen.
Teil 5: Christentum (134-155).
2005/6
Edwards, M., J. L. Stanfield, Dschingis Khan (40-77).
2005/7
Heinken, S., K. Garrett, Das Pharao-Projekt (38-43).
- Williams, A. R., K. Garrett, Tod am Nil (44-63). -
Galvin, J., K. Garrett, Menschenopfer in Abydos (64-
80). - Ivanoff, J., N. Reynard, Die Seenomaden von
Myanmar (116-135).
2005/8
Zetzsche, V., Das Rätsel der Pampa (20-30).
2005/9
Fage, L.-H., C. Peter, Die mysteriösen Hände von
Borneo (82-91). - Tayler, J., A. Boulat, Im Land der
Berber (94-113).
2005/10
Morell, V., C. Peter, Härteste Heimat der Welt (108—
129). - Barnes, C., D. McLain, Die Waffenwerkstatt
am “Big Eddie” (130-135).
2005/11
Eeckhout, P., M. Mergold, Das Rätsel von Pachacamac
(130-135).
Neue Zeitschrift für Missions Wissenschaft
(Immensee)
51-60. 1995-2004
Index 1995-2004 (11-93).
Numen (Leiden)
52. 2005/2
Bowman, M. I., Ancient Avalon, New Jerusalem, Heart
Chakra of Planet Earth: The Local and Global in
Glastonbury (157-190). - Mikaelsson, L., Locality and
Myth: The Resacralization of Selja and the Cult of
St. Sunniva (191-225).
Oceania (Sydney)
75. 2004/2
Dundon, A., Tea and Tinned Fish: Christianity, Con-
sumption, and the Nation in Papua New Guinea (73-
88). - Heekeren, D. van, Feeding Relationship: Uncov-
ering Cosmology in Christian Women’s Fellowship in
Papua New Guinea (89-108). - Hage, P., East Papuan
Kinship Systems: Bougainville (109-124). - Krieken,
R. van, Rethinking Cultural Genocide: Aboriginal Child
Removal and Settler-Colonial State Formation (125—
151).
75. 2005/3
Merlan, F., Explorations towards Intercultural Accounts
of Socio-Cultural Reproduction and Change (167-182).
- Sullivan, P., Searching for Intercultural, Searching
for the Culture (183-194). - Batty, P., Private Politics,
Public Strategies: White Advisers and Their Aboriginal
Subjects (209-221). - Redmond, A., Strange Rela-
tives: Mutualities and Dependencies between Aborigines
and Pastoralists in the Northern Kimberley (234-246).
- Goddard, M., Research and Rhetoric on Women
in Papua New Guinea’s Village Courts (247-267). -
Toren, C., Laughter and Truth in Fiji: What We May
Learn from a Joke (268-283). - Eriksen, A., The
Gender of the Church: Conflicts and Social Wholes on
Ambrym (284-300).
Oral Tradition (Columbus)
20. 2005/1
Hughes-Freeland, F., Visual Takes on Dance in Java
(58-79). - Standish, I., Mediators of Modernity: “Ph°'
to-Interpreters” in Japanese Silent Cinema (93-110). "
Perron, L. du, N. Magriel, Shellac, Bakelite, Vinyl, and
Paper: Artefacts and Representations of North Indian Ad
Music (130-157).
Race and Class (London)
46. 2005/4
Coury, R. M., The Démonisation of Pan-Arab Nation'
alism (1-19). - Pautz, H., The Politics of Identity &
Germany: The Leitkultur Debate (39-52).
47. 2005/1
Smith, A., Ben Okri and the Freedom Whose Walls AN
Closing in (1-13). - Williams, C. J., In Defence ®
Materialism: A Critique of Afrocentric Ontology O
48).
Anthropos 101.200
Zeitschriftenschau
367
Recherches Amérindiennes au Québec
(Québec)
35. 2005/1
Legros, D., Critique de la démocratie libérale et des
droits de l’homme: La question autochtone (3-16). -
Reynoso, A., Le mythe nahua de Sentiopil, l’Enfant-
Dieu-Maïs (29-39). - Lavoie, M., Les représentations
sociales bureaucratiques et la politique de l’éducation
indienne au Canada, 1828-1996. Part 2 (57-67).
Recherches Sociologiques (Louvain)
36. 2005/2-3
Wool, P. de, Globalisation et responsabilités nouvelles
de l’entreprise (5-13). - Arnsperger, C., Homo Oe-
conomicus peut-il être un activiste social? (15-26).
" Baeck, L., L’éthique dans la mondialisation : Les
visées de l’Islam et de la Chine (51-73). - Lits, M.,
Le la culture populaire à la culture multimédiatique.
Marchandisation et mondialisation (77-98). - Delcourt,
J*» Les économies culturelles et créatives en question.
part 1 : La diversification : Un atout économique majeur
(99-114). - Delcourt, J., Les économies culturelles et
créatives en question. Part 2 : La propriété intellectuelle :
Hn adjuvant à la créativité? (115-136). - Brunetaux,
Se dédoubler en un être transcendant : La sacrali-
s&tion séculière dans les États modernes pacifiés (231 —
248).
Religion and Society (Bangalore)
49- 2004/2-3
Massey, J,, Dalits and Human Rights (1-9). - Robert-
^°n> S., Periyar E. Y. Ramasami’s Critique of Priest-
^ Hinduism and Its Implications for Social Reforms
10-29) - Clarke, S., Dalit Religion as a Resourceful
ymbolic Domain: A Critical Review of Theories of
edgion and a Constructive Proposition to Clean the
lchness Da^-t su|3jectivity (30-48). - Anderson-
aikumar, E., Skin, Body, and Blood: Explorations
ç°r Lalit Hermeneutics (106-120). - Thomas- V. V.,
ubaltern Historiography and Post-Colonial Theory: The
^ase of Dalit Pentecostalism in Kerala (121-139). -
ammen, C., Dalits’ Socio-Religious Aspirations and
Vanity (140-151). - Jayakumar, S., Tradition
ersus Modernity (152-160).
JjJ* 2004/4 - 50. 2005/1
T., Urban Pollution and Ecological Responsibil-
Oi ^722). - Green, E. I., Beggary - An Urban Moral
ChqSt^°n (23-32). - Shiri, G., The Plight of Female
Ra)1 ^ labourers; A Case of Domestic Workers in Ban-
and Urban District (33-71). - Bijulal, M. V., Slums
in Marginalized: A Study of Muslims and Dalits
LJrh elhi Slums (72-87). - Mallick, R., D. Mukherjee,
an Crises and Women (100-110).
Anth;
r°pos 101.2006
Revista Andina (Cuzco)
40. 2005/1
Heggarty, P., Enigmas en el origin de las lenguas
andinas; Aplicando nuevas técnicas a las incógnitas por
resolver (9-80). - Valko, M. L., Indios, nacionalidad
y extranjería: El Malón de la Paz (81-99). - Pilares
Casas, G., Los sistemas numéricos del Quechua y
el Aimara (149-178). - Pilco Paz, E., Maestros de
capilla, mestizaje musical y catolicismo en los andes
del sur (179-208). - Usandizaga, H., Cosmovisión y
conocimiento andinos en el Pez de Oro de Gamaliel
Churata (237-259). - Gutmann, M., El mito del
Qanchi Machu: Creación del espacio sagrado y sus
repercusiones en la historia regional cusqueña [Perú]
(261-277).
Revista Anthropológicas (Pernambuco)
15. 2004/1
Seithel, F., Advocacy Anthropology: History and Con-
cepts (5-48). - Martins Àlvares, M., Kitoko Maxakali:
A crianqa indigena e os processes de forn^ào, apren-
dizagem e escolarizagao (49-77). - Heraldo Maués,
R., A renova$ào carismàtica e a “cura” de um espaejo
comunitàrio (79-97). - Guimaràes de Salles, S., À
sombra da jurema: A tradigao dos mestres juremeiros na
Umbanda de Alhandra (99-121). - Maués Pelùcio, L.,
Travestis, e (re)constru9ao do feminine: gènero, corpo
e sexualidade em um espatjo ambiguo (123-153). -
Azevedo Fernandes, J., Violéncia e mestigagem: A
origem da familia brasileira na obra de Darcy Ribeiro
(155-183).
Revista Espatos (Sào Paulo)
12. 2004/1
Cazarotto, J. L., Religiào e emo9áo: Dimensóes psico-
lógicas do fenómeno religioso (5-26). - Andrade, J.,
A dan9a como ritual: Um estudo antropológico sobre a
danga clàssica indiana (27-51).
12. 2004/2
Foerster, N. H. C., Gito católicos(as) do Padre Marcelo
e un contraponto (227-246).
Revista Europea de Estudios
Latinoamericanos y del Caribe
(Amsterdam)
78. 2005
Bretón Solo de Zaldívar, V., Los paradigmas de la
“nueva” ruralidad a debate: El proyecto de desarrollo
de los pueblos indígenas y negros de Ecuador (7-30). -
Ruben, R., Z. Lerman, Why Nicaraguan Peasants Stay
in Agricultural Production Cooperatives (31-47).
368
Zeitschriften schau
Revista de Antropología y Arqueología
(Bogotá)
14. 2003
Ramos, A. R., Los dilemas del pluralismo en Brasil
(6-23). - Arango, R., Diversidad étnica, igualdad y
derechos humanos. Comentario a la conferencia “Los
dilemas del pluralismo en Brasil,” de la profesora Alcida
Rita Ramos (24-30). - Jimeno, M., El indigenismo
como espejo de la nación. Comentario a “Los dilemas
del pluralismo en Brasil.” (31-37). - Cayón, L., De la
guerra y los jaguares. Aproximación a las guerras inter-
étnicas en la Amazonia (82-120). - Sánchez, L., Almas
para el cielo y cuerpos para la república. Imágenes de
degeneración y regeneración en las misiones capuchinas
del Putumayo y Caquetá [1912-1947] (121-143). -
Alvarez, S., Solidaridades y condenas sociales en los
ritos fúnebres de una comunidad campesina en los
Andes colombianos (166-192).
Revue des études sud-est européennes
(Bucarest)
40. 2002/1-4
Stahl, P. H., La naissance, le mariage et la mort. Rituels
païens, rituels chrétiens (19-39).
41. 2003/1-4
Cândea, V., La dimension culturelle de l’Europe du
sud-est (21-31). - Biliarsky, I., L’histoire et l’identité
(33-55). - Ciobanel, A. I., Identity and Ethnicity (57-
63).
42. 2004/1-4
Lazero, O. E. de, Aktuelle sicherheitspolitische Ent-
wicklung in Mazedonien und die Rolle der internatio-
nalen Staatengemeinschaft (251-269). - Heller, W.,
W. Aschauer, Regionen als Instrument der Koopera-
tion und Integration (271-292). - Todorova, I., The
Village Extrasens\ Between Traditional Ritual Practice
and “New” Ideas about the Structure of the Universe
(305-323).
Saeculum (Freiburg)
56. 2005/1
Reinhard, W., Manchmal ist eine Pfeife wirklich nur
eine Pfeife. Plädoyer für eine materialistische Anthro-
pologie (1-16). - Reichert, F., Mohammed in Mek-
ka. Doppelte Grenzen im Islambild des lateinischen
Mittelalters (17-31). - Sprandel, R., Die Entstehung
der Leibeigenschaft: Ein Problemquerschnitt (33-68).
- Gestwa, K., Das Besitzergreifen von Natur und Ge-
sellschaft im Stalinismus. Enthusiastischer Umgestal-
tungswille und katastrophischer Fortschritt (105-138).
- Eder, M., Wenn das “Tausendjährige Reich” mehr als
ein dutzendjähriges gewesen wäre... Nationalsozialisti-
sche Pläne und Visionen zu Kirche und Religion für die
Zeit nach dem “Endsieg” (139-166).
Seminar (New Delhi)
552. 2005
Prabhu, P., The Right to Live with Dignity (14-19). -
Singh, T., Lies about Tribal Rights (37-40). - Rathere,
G., Tigers and Tribes (41-43).
554. 2005
Singh, N. K., Leveraging Globalisation (14-18). - Sub-
ramaniam, P., Partnerships in Tourism (19-24). -
Cherian, D., A Link to Equitable Growth (25-28). -
Brooks, G., Emerging Strategies for Cultural Tourism
(29-33).
Shaman (Szeged)
13. 2005/1-2
Mebius, H., Ake Hultkrantz and the Study of Shaman-
ism (7-27). - Backman, L., The Noaidi and His World-
view: A Study of Saami Shamanism from an Historical
Point of View (29-40). - Berglie, P.-A., Shamanic
Buddhism in Burma (41-59). - Hoppal, M., Trance
and Sacrifice in a Daur Shamanic Healing Rite (61 -
78). - Maloney, A., Shaman Dolls: On North Amer-
ican-Siberian Cultural Typology (79-94). - Mills,
C. Matchatis, G. Hill, Ake Hultkrantz’s Contributions
to the Understanding of Souls, Their Return, and Their
Place in Shamanism Confirmed by Contemporary Cas-
es (95-114). - Turner, E., Shamanic Power and the
Collective Unconscious: An Exploration of Group Ex-
perience (115-132). - Voigt, V., “Foreign” and “Interre-
gional” Elements in Siberian and Central Asian Shaman-
ism (133-145). - Walker, M., An “Enic” Perspective
on the Music of Manchu-Tunguz Peoples of Siberia
(147-179).
Social Anthropology (Cambridge)
13. 2005/2
Pina-Cabral, J. de, The Future of Social Anthropol'
ogy (119-128). - Hastrup, K., Social Anthropology’
Towards a Pragmatic Enlightenment (133-149). - Pa*'
riwala, R., Fieldwork in a Post-Colonial Anthropol'
ogy. Experience and the Comparative (151-170).
Schramm, K., “You Have Your Own History. Keep
Your Hands off Ours!” On Being Rejected in the Field
(171-183). - Oosten, J., Ideals and Values in the Par'
ticipants’ View of Their Culture. A View from the InUjt
Field (185-198).
Social Compass
(Ottignies Louvain-La-Neuve)
52. 2005/2
Lamine, A.-S., Les relations islamo-chrétiennes à 1 e
preuve des générations (131-142). - Lybarger, L-F”
Palestinian Political Identities during the Post-Oslo ?e
riod: A Case Study of Generation Effects in a
We§t
Anthropos 101.20^6
Zeitschriftenschau
369
Bank Refugee Camp (143-156). - Furseth, I., From
“Everything Has a Meaning” to “I Want to Believe in
Something.” Religious Change between Two Genera-
tions of Women in Norway (157-168). - Stolz, J., O.
Favre, The Evangelical Milieu: Defining Criteria and
Reproduction across the Generations (169-183). - Bot-
var, P. K., The Moral Thinking of Three Generations
in Scandinavia: What Role Does Religion Play? (185—
195). - Amiotte-Suchet, L., Tous égaux devant Dieu ?
Réflexions sur les logiques d’éligibilité des miraculés
(241-254). - Menezes, R., Marcel Mauss et la socio-
logie de la religion (255-271).
52. 2005/3
Mary, A., Métissage and Bricolage in the Making
of African Christian Identities (281-294). - Hervieu-
Leger, D., Bricolage vaut-il dissemination ? Quelques
réflexions sur l’opérationnalité sociologique d’une mé-
taphore problématique (295-308). - Laurent, P.-J.,
The Process of Bricolage between Mythic Societies
and Global Modernity: Conversion to the Assembly of
God Faith in Burkina Faso (309-323). - Hiernaux,
J-P., Bricolages religieux ou transactions symboliques ?
Quelques éléments à partir de la recomposition des
croyances relatives à l’après-mort dans un Occident
déchristianisé (325-330). - Servais, O., Résistance
et conversation des Anishinaabeg au christianisme :
bricolage, rupture ou coupure? (331-336).
Terrain (Paris)
45. 2005
Martial, A., Comment rester liés ? Les comptes des
familles recomposées (67-82). - Cadolle, S., “C’est
quand même mon père !” La solidarité entre père di-
vorcé, famille paternelle et enfants adultes (83-96). -
Goliac, S., Faire ses partages. Patrimoine profession-
nel et groupe de descendance (113-124). - Weber,
F., Héritage oblige. Une vieille dame sans enfants à
Barcelone (125-138). - Gobin, E., Le triomphe des
croyances. Catholiques et spirites autour de la tombe
d’Allan Kardec (139-152).
Tribus (Stuttgart)
54. 2005
Baier, M., Salzgewinnung und Töpferei der Dayak
im nordwestlichen Ost-Kalimantan [Indonesisch-Bor-
neo] (57-69). - Clados, C., Maisfeld, Affe und Opfer-
tod: Ein spätnascazeitliches Textil des Linden-Museums
Stuttgart (71-88). - Luttmann, I., Kleidermoden als
Ausdruck veränderten Selbst-Bewusstseins; Die Neuan-
eignung der traditionellen Indigo-Stoffe der Dogon im
Kontext lokaler und globaler Einflüsse (103-131). -
Schulze-Thulin, A., Anmerkungen zur ethnologischen
Grundlagenerforschung der Indianer des Christoph Ko-
lumbus [der ersten und zweiten Reise] (133-198).
Spiritus (Paris)
!79. 2005
^bikwanyanzo Mpundu, A. M., Ce n’est qu’une fille !
problème culturel crucial. La condition de la femme
en Afrique laisse encore gravement à désirer (137-141).
T- Toliton Dikpo, T., Tel un navire sur une vague en
turie. Les drames vécus par les enfants soldats, gar-
ons et filles (142-144). - Ngalula, J., Déstabilisation
S()ciale par agression sur les femmes. Une grave menace
Pose sur le devenir de l’Afrique (145-149). - Quashie,
. •» Un système éducatif en crise. Malaises chez les
Jeunes Africains des villes (150-154).
J*. 2005
fercado, E., Dialogue islamo-chrétien aux Philippines,
elaboration concrète des chrétiens et des musulmans
Pour la construction de la paix (273-279).
^enienos (Bremen)
M* 2005/1
p cGutcheon, R. T., The Domestication of Dissent:
uudits’ Contributions to the War on Terrorism (39-50).
of[Utma, K*’ Vernacular Religions and the Invention
p ^entities behind the Fenno-Ugric Wall (51-76). -
j^ysiàinen, I., God: A Brief History with a Cognitive
xPlanation of the Concept (77-128).
Anthropos 101.2006
Verbum svd (Nettetal)
46. 2005/2
Gibbs, P., “It’s in the Blood.” Dialogue with Primal
Religion in Papua New Guinea (151-161). - Piepke,
J. G., The Anthropos Institute. The Task of Basic Re-
search in Mission (179-192). - Gachter, O., The En-
counter between Religions and Cultures. 100 Years of
Anthropos - International Review of Anthropology and
Linguistics (193-205).
Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde Südasiens
(Wien)
98. 2004
Ticken, H., The Mahäbhärata after the Great Battle (5-
46).
Zeitschrift der Deutschen
Morgenländischen Gesellschaft (Stuttgart)
155. 2005/1
Gai, A., The Signigifie of the Non-Active Participle in
Semitic Languages (9-23). - Voigt, R., Die Entwick-
lung der Aramäischen KharosthT und Brähml-Schrift
370
Zeitschriftenschau
(25-50). - Frembgen, J. W., Sayyid Shah Wali - Mis-
sionary and Miracle-Worker. Notes on the Hagiogra-
phy and Cult of a Muslim Saint in Nager and Hunza
[Northern Pakistan] (69-104). - Miyakawa, H., Zur
urindogermanischen Zeitrechnung: Rigveda 4,33,7 und
eine homerische Parallele (147-160). - König, G., Zur
Figur des “Wahrhaftigen Menschen” (mard T ahlaw) in
der zoroastrischen Literatur (161-188). - Tfirco, B. L.,
Some Questions Posed by a Recent Epistemological
Approach to Indian Thought (189-197).
Zeitschrift für Missionswissenschaft
und Religionswissenschaft (St. Ottilien)
89. 2005/3
Hüser, D., Federkronen zu größeren Ehre Gottes: Volks-
religiosität in Mojos [Bolivien] (195-211). - Tze Ming
Ng, P., Place of Worship in China. Some Observations
from the Case of Christianity in the Taiwan Region
of Shandong Province, PRC (212-220). - Elsas, C.,
Religionsfreiheit und Kopftuch. Denkanstöße aus dem
Werk des türkischen Islam-Gelehrten Said Nursi (1876-
1960) für das Zusammenleben in Europa (221-230).
Zeitschrift für Religions-
und Geistesgeschichte (Köln)
57. 2005/2
Voigts, M., Weder Höhepunkt der Geschichte noch
Schrei ins Leere. Grundriss der deutsch-jüdischen Sym-
biose (123-149). - Knoll, J. H., “Heil Dir im Sieger-
kranz”. Nationale Feier- und Gedenktage als Formen
kollektiver Identifikation (150-171).
57. 2005/3
Schoeps, J. H., Das (nicht-)angenommene Erbe. Zur De-
batte um die deutsch-jüdische Erinnerungskultur (232-
242). - Koch, A., Zur religiösen Codierung moderner
Ernährung. Ayurwedische Koch- und Emährungsbücher
als Lebensratgeber (243-264).
Zeitschrift für Religionswissenschaft
(Marburg)
13. 2005/1
Koch, A., Spiritualisierung eines Heilwissens im lokalen
religiösen Feld? Zur Formierung deutscher Ayurveden
(21-44). - Nehring, A., Welttheologie oder Religions-
wissenschaft? Zur Bedeutung von Wilfred Cantwell
Smith in der postkolonialen Kulturdebatte (45-59).
- Bosch, L. P. van den, Some Observations on the
Cultural and Social Crisis of Theravada Buddhism in
Thailand. The Quest for Reforms (81-99).
Zeitschrift für Volkskunde (Münster)
101. 2005/1
Seidenspinner, W., Das volkskundliche Herbarium und
das Spiel der Phantasie. Die Herausbildung des folk-
loristischen Paradigmas (31-47). - Leimgruber, W.>
Bilder vom Körper - Bilder vom Menschen. Kultur und
Ausgrenzung um 1900 und heute (69-91).
101. 2005/2
Gerndt, H., Über visuelle Kompetenz. Eine Thesenskiz-
ze am Beispiel der politischen Karikatur (189-203). "
Heimerdinger, T., Schmackhafte Symbole und alltägli-
che Notwendigkeit. Zu Stand und Perspektiven der
volkskundlichen Nahrungsforschung (205-218). - Heg'
ner, V., “Tiefste Provinz” - Sowjetische Juden in Chi-
cago (219-240).
101.2006
Anthropos
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Dr. Monni Adams
Peabody Museum
Harvard University
Cambridge, MA 02138
USA
mmadams@fas.harvard.edu
Njakoi John Bah
c/o Catholic Mission Elak
Oku Sub Division
P. O. Box 146
Kumbo, N. W. Province
Cameroon
nj akoij ohn @ yahoo .com
Prof. Dr. Thomas Bargatzky
Ethnologie
Universität Bayreuth
0-95440 Bayreuth
Germany
Thomas .Bargatzky @ uni-bayreuth.de
Prof. T. O. Beidelman
Oept. of Anthropology
Uew York University
201 Rufus D. Smith Hall
25 Waverly Place
Uew York, NY 10003
USA
Ur. Pascale Bonnemere
U^RS-CREDO
Uampus Saint-Charles
U place Victor-Hugo
'13003 Marseille
Erance
^ascale. B onnemere @ up. uni v-mrs. fr
Gabriele Brandhuber
^°hlmutstr. 33/8
'1020 Wien
Austria
Gabriele, brandhuber @ uni vie. ac. at
^r°f. Dr. Jessica J. Christie
chool of Art and Design
ast Carolina University
Unth
Greenville, NC 27858
USA
christiej @mai.ecu.edu
PD Dr. Maria Susana Cipoletti
Institut für Altamerikanistik und Ethnologie
Römerstr. 164
D-51117 Bonn
Germany
m.cipolletti @ uni-bonn.de
Lorena Cordoba
Callao 555 6°E
CP 1022
Capital Federal
Buenos Aires
Argentina
lorec @ fullzero. com. ar
Prof. Norbert Dannhaeuser
Dept, of Anthropology
Texas A&M University
College Station, TX 77843-4352
USA
ndann@tamu.edu
PD Dr. Ulrich Demmer
Institut für Ethnologie und Afrikanistik
Oettingenstr. 67
D-80538 München
Germany
340090514987-0001 @t-online.de
PD Dr. Stefan Dietrich
Institut für Völkerkunde und Afrikanistik
Oettingenstr. 67
D-80538 München
Germany
sfdietrich @ t-online.de
Dr. Julia Droeber
Al-Maktoum Institute for Arabic and Islamic Studies
124 Blackness Road
Dundee DD1 5PE
United Kingdom
juladr @ yahoo .com
lroPos 101.2006
372
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Dr. Roland Drubig
Am Goldgraben 26
D-37073 Göttingen
Germany
ifak@comlink.org
Prof. Dr. el-Sayed el-Aswad
Dept, of Social Sciences
College of Arts
University of Bahrain
P. O. Box 32038 Sakhir
Kingdom of Bahrain
melas wad @ hotmail .com
Dr. Corinna Erckenbrecht
Fridolinstr. 68
D-50825 Köln
Germany
corinnaerck @ gmx. de
Dr. Burkhard Ganzer
Heckmannufer 10
D-10997 Berlin
Germany
B urkhard. Ganzer @ gmx. de
Dr. Mattiebelle Gittinger
Apartment P3
4100 Cathedral Avenue, N. W.
Washington, DC 20016-3584
USA
gitt@erols.com
PD Dr. Detlef Gronenborn
Römisch-Germanisches Zentralmuseum
Abt. Vorgeschichte
Ernst-Ludwig-Platz 2
D-55116 Mainz
Germany
gronenborn @ rgzm. de
P. Hermann Gufler
Catholic Mission Elak-Oku
Oku Sub Division
P. O. Box 146,
Kumbo, N. W. Province
Cameroon
cmelak_oku @yahoo.com
Prof. John Haddad, Ph. D.
American Studies
Penn State Harrisburg
777 W. Harrisburg Pike
Middletown, PA 17057-4898
USA
jrh36@psu.edu
D-95440 Bayreuth
Germany
hans.hahn@uni-bayreuth.de
Dr. Johannes Harnischfeger
Friedensstr. 4
D-69121 Heidelberg
Germany
j.hamischfeger@gmx.de
Dr. Robert Hazel
322, boul. de Mortgane
Bucherville (Québec)
Canada J4B 1B5
roberthazel-01 @ hotmail.com
Prof. Dr. Volker Heeschen
Institut für Ethnologie und Afrikanistik
Oettingenstr. 67
D-80538 München
Germany
Vheeschen @ t-online .de
Fr. Rudolf C. Heredia
Indian Social Institute
10, Institutional Area
Lodhi Road
New Delhi 110 003
India
rudiheredia @ vsnl.net
José Luiz Izidoro, SVD
Apartado 17-02-5300
Quito
Ecuador
jeso_nuap@hotmail.com
Prof. Dr. Adam Jones
Institut für Afrikanistik
Beethovenstr. 15
D-04107 Leipzig
Germany
jones @uni-leipzig.de
Prof. Orit Kamir
University of Michigan Law School
625 South State Street
Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1215
USA
oritkami @ umich.edu
Prof. Dr. Godula Kosack
Brockhausstr. 13
D-04229 Leipzig
Germany
g.kosack@arcor.de
Dr. Hans Peter Hahn
Facheinheit Ethnologie
Universität Bayreuth
Prof. Dr. David B, Kronenfeld
Dept, of Anthropology
University of California
Anthropos 101 -2006
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
373
Riverside, CA 92521
USA
david.kronenfeld @ ucr.edu
Dr. Frank Krönke
Birkerstr. 12
D-80636 München
Germany
Frank. Kroenke @ gmx. de
Dr. Lars Peter Laamann
History Department
SOAS
Thomhaugh Street
London WC1H OXG
United Kingdom
LL10@soas.ac.uk
Prof. Dr. Bernhard Lang
Fakultät für Kulturwissenschaften
Universität Paderborn
Warburger Str. 100
U-33098 Paderborn
Germany
B erhard. Lang @ uni-paderbom. de
Prof. Dr. Michel Launey
Centre d’études des langues indigènes d’Amérique
IRD Sciences Sociales
BP 165
P-97323 Cayenne Cedex
France
Iauney@cayenne.ird.fr
Prof. em. Dr. Wolfgang Marschall
Eisengasse 2
CH-8008 Zürich
Switzerland
Marschall @ ethno. unibe. ch
Br. Christian Meyer
Institut für Ethnologie und Afrikastudien
Forum Universitatis 6
B-55099 Mainz
Fforrnany
chrneyer@uni-maninz.de
prof. Dr. Wilhelm J. G. Möhlig
Institut für Afrikanistik
Geister-Ekkehart-Str. 7
B-50923 Köln
Germany
^ma 13 @ uni-koeln.de
Br. Markus Müller
Inristische Fakultät
^ilhelmstr. 7
B'72074 Tübingen
Germany
^mueller @ j ura. uni-tuebingen .de
Anth
Prof. Ludger Müller-Wille
215, avenue Stanley
St-Lambert, Québec
Canada J4R 2R7
ludger.muller-wille@mcgill.ca
Kerstin Nowack
Pfälzer Str. 2
D-53111 Bonn
Germany
Kerstin _N o wack @ gmx. de
Cele Otnes, Ph. D.
Professor/Marketing
Dept, of Business Administration
350 Wohlers Hall
1206 S. Sixth St.
Champaign, IL 61820
USA
cotnes@uiuc.edu
Prof. Jacob Pandian
McCarthy Hall 426
California State University
Fullerton, CA 92834
USA
jpandian@fullerton.edu
Prof. Dr. Anton Quack, SVD
Anthropos Institut
Arnold-Janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
anthropos.reviews @ steyler.de
Prof. Dr. Wolfgang Reinhard
Annaplatz 4A
D-79100 Freiburg
Germany
wolfgang .k. w. reinhard @ web. de
Prof. Dr. Berthold Riese
Institut für Altamerikanistik und Ethnologie
Römerstr. 164
D-53117 Bonn
Germany
Briese@uni-bonn.de
Kim de Rijke
Central Queensland Land Council
56 Gordon Street
PO Box 108
Mackay, Qld 4740
Australia
kderij ke @ cqlcac. com. au
Dr. Alexander Rödlach, SVD
Anthropos Institut
Arnold-Janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
,ropos 101.2006
374
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Dr. Dan Rosengren
Dept. Social Anthropology
Göteborg University
Box 700
S-405 30 Göteborg
Sweden
dan.rosengren @ sant.gu. se
P. Franciszek M. Rosinski
Al. J. Kasprowicza 26
skr. p. 1759
PL-51-161 Wroclaw 8
Poland
Prof. Dr. Martin Rössler
Institut für Völkerkunde
Albertus-Magnus-Platz
D-50923 Köln
Germany
alv69 @ uni-koeln .de
Dr. Alexandra V. Roth
26 Beacon Street #103
Winthrop, MA 02152
USA
alexandra_v_roth @ gmx.de
Dr. Rita Schäfer
Daimler Str. 5
D-45133 Essen
Germany
marx. schaefer @ t-online. de
Dr. Andrea E. Schmidt
Schleifäcker 90
D-89081 Ulm
Germany
schmidtae @ aol. com
Jürg Schneider
Hüningerstr. 4
CH-4056 Basel
Switzerland
juerg. Schneider @ unibas .ch
Dr. Ingo W. Schröder
Institut für Vergleichende Kulturforschung
Völkerkunde
Kugelgasse 10
D-35032 Marburg
Germany
ingowschroeder @ hotmail .com
Dr. Peter Schröder
UFPE
Programa de Pös-Gradua^äo em Antropologia
Cidade Universitäria
Av. Prof. Moraes Rego, 1.235, 13° andar
50.670-901 Recife - PE
Brasil
pschroder@uol.com.br
Philipp Schroder
Kernerstr. 20
D-73230 Kirchheim unter Teck
Germany
pjr.schroeder@t-online.de
Dr. Roland Seib
Hobrechtstr. 28
D-64285 Darmstadt
Germany
RSeib@t-online.de
Prof. Arvind Sharma
Religious Studies
McGill University
3520 University Road
Montreal, Quebec
Canada H3A 2T5
Arvind. Sharma @ staff, mcgill. ca
Dr. Dagmar Siebelt
Kolnstr. 446
D-53117 Bonn
Germany
Prof. Peter K. Smith
Dept of Psychology
Goldsmiths College
New Cross
London SE14 6NW
United Kingdom
pss01pks@gold.ac.uk
Swetlana Solwanova
m-7-86
358009 Elista
Russian Federation
oelzyata@mail.ru
Prof. Bernhard Streck
Instituí für Ethnologic
Schillerstr. 6
D-04109 Leipzig
Germany
streck @ rz. uni-leipzig. de
Dr. Karen Sykes
Social Anthropology
University of Manchester
The Roscoe Building
Brunswick St.
Manchester M13 9PL
United Kingdom
Msrdsks@fsl.ec. man .ac.uk
Dr. Ilka Thiessen
Dept, of Anthropology
Faculty of Social Sciences and Management
Malaspina University College
900 Fifth Street
101-2006
Anthropos
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
375
Nanaimo, BC
Canada V9R 5S5
ithiessen @ mac .com
Dr. Steve Tonah
Sociology Department
University of Ghana
P.O. Box 65
Legon
Ghana
ste vetonah @ hotmail .com
Dr. James Tbrner
Dept, of Anthropology
University of Hawai’i-West O’ahu
96-043 Ala Ike
Pearl City, HI 96782
USA
j amestur @ ha waii. edu
Pirjo Kristiina Virtanen, M. A.
Porvoonkatu 5A9
00510 Helsinki
Finland
pirj o .virtanen @ helsinki. fi
Dr. Andreas Volz
Institut für Völkerkunde
Werderring 10
0-79085 Freiburg
Germany
andreasvolz @ t-online.de
Prof. Dr. Maria-Barbara Watson-Franke
Dept, of Women’s Studies
College of Arts and Letters
SDSU
San Diego, CA 92182-8138
USA
mbwatson@mail.sdsu.edu
Dr. Katja Werthmann
Inst, für Ethnologie und Afrikastudien
Forum Universitatis 6
D-55099 Mainz
Germany
werthmann@uni-mainz.de
Dr. Brigitte Wiesenbauer
Wilhelmshavener Str. 22
D-10551 Berlin
Germany
Brigitte.Wiesenbauer@bifab.de
PD Dr. Uwe Wolfradt
Institut für Psychologie
Martin Luther-Universität Halle-Wittenberg
D-06099 Halle
Germany
u.wolfradt@psych.uni-halle.de
Dr. Bernhard Wörrle
Wohlmutstr. 33/8
A-1020 Wien
Austria
B emhard-woerrle @ gmx. de
Anth
ropos 101.2006
Collectanea Series
of the Anthropos Institute
The Collectanea series of
the Anthropos Institute
was started in 1967 by
W. Saake. The purpose of
this series was to collect
and publish materials
dealing with societies
without script. Over the
years, 43 volumes have
appeared, dealing with
general ethnography,
religious ethnography,
and linguistic materials.
Recently the purpose
of this series has been
expanded to include the
preservation of items
of cultural significance
which can often be
made available for
posterity only by fixing
them in writing. As a
consequence, the series
also welcomes material
from authors who, in the
strict sense, may not be
ethnologists or specialists
in the science of religion,
but who can present their
material in a manner that
has scientific validity.
Manuscripts should be sent to
Anthropos Institut
Arnold-janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
ANTHROPOS 101.2006/2
Artikel
Alfredo Gonzâlez-Ruibal: Order in a Disordered
World. The Bertha House (Western Ethiopia).......... 379
Osumaka Likaka: Colonial Response to Population
depletion in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936 ............ 403
Stephan Dugast : Des sites sacrés à incendier. Feux
rituels et bosquets sacrés chez les Bwaba du Burkina
Paso et les B assar du Togo......................... 413
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani: Embodied
Powers, Deconstructed Bodies. Spirit Possession, Sick-
ness, and the Search for Wealth of Nigerian Immigrant
Women............................................... 429
Mary W. Helms: Joseph the Smith and the Salvational
Wansformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe ... 451
Rfuno J. Richtsfeld: Geburt und Jugend des Helden im
P^sar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai) . 473
^guyên Xuân Hiên: Betel-Chewing in Vietnam. Its Past
and Current Importance ............................... 499
Astrid de Hontheim : Un chapelet sur le caducée. Ten-
Utives d’évangélisation catholique et protestante des As-
njat (Papouasie occidentale).......................... 519
Christian Meyer: “Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Kat-
Wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...” Deixis, Ritualge-
sange und die Glaubwürdigkeit der Geistverkörperung in
nr brasilianischen Umbanda.......................... 529
'Wrc Lenaerts : “Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous,
^ abandonné la terre ..Le bricolage religieux chez les
shéninka de 1’ Ucayali................................ 541
B .
ei*ichte und Kommentare
M^ksandar Boskovic: Balkan Ghosts Revisited.
Racism - Serbian Style............................. 559
ürkhard Ganzer: Power vs. Consent in Tribal Po-
ri'cal Systems in Iran; Salzman on the Basseri Khan.
°niments on an Extreme View...................... 564
avid Hicks: How Friarbird Got His Helmet. Some
°Vel Features in an Eastern Indonesian Narrative . . . 570
Anette Hornbacher: Medium oder Message? Wayang
alit zwischen Technik und Kunst.................. 575
aristoph Antweiler und Corinne Neudorfer; Ethno-
°§ie in Text und Bild. Zum “dtv-Atlas der Ethnologie” . 578
Rezensionen
All;
p‘ünan, Jean (ed.): Fashioning Africa. Power and the
0 üics of Dress (Rita Schäfer)...................... 585
Jhesberger, Helga, Katrin Auer, und Brigitte Halb-
ayr; Sexualisierte Gewalt. Weibliche Erfahrungen in
' 'Konzentrationslagern (Patricia Zuckerhut)............ 586
Antoun, Richard T.: Documenting Transnational Mi-
gration. Jordanian Men Working and Studying in
Europe, Asia, and North America (Julia Droeber) .... 588
Bonnemère, Pascale (ed.); Women as Unseen Char-
acters. Male Ritual in Papua New Guinea (Holly
Wardlow)............................................ 589
Bsteh, Andreas, und Tahir Mahmood (Hrsg.); In-
toleranz und Gewalt. Erscheinungsformen, Gründe,
Zugänge (Christian W. Troll)........................... 590
Clark, Mary Ann: Where Men Are Wives and Moth-
ers Rule. Santería Ritual Practices and Their Gender
Implications (Lioba Rossbach de Olmos)................. 591
Corbey, Raymond: The Metaphysics of Apes. Ne-
gotiating the Animal-Human Boundary (Matthew R.
Goodrum)............................................... 593
Cornwall, Andrea (ed.): Readings in Gender in Africa
(Rita Schäfer)......................................... 594
Crapanzano, Vincent: Imaginative Horizons. An Essay
in Literary-philosophical Anthropology (Josef Salmen) . 595
Dächer, Michèle : Cent ans au village. Chronique fami-
liale gouin (Burkina Faso) (Jacek Jan Pawlik).......... 596
Delarozière, Marie-Françoise : L’art du cuir en Mauri-
tanie, ou le raffinement nomade (Claude Savary) .... 597
Dening, Greg; Beach Crossings. Voyaging across
Times, Cultures, and Self (Eva Ch. Raabe) .......... 597
de Wet, Chris (ed.): Development-induced Displace-
ment. Problems, Policies, and People (Bettina Beer) . . 599
Drotbohm, Heike: Geister in der Diaspora. Haitiani-
sche Diskurse über Geschlechter, Jugend und Macht in
Montreal (Sylvia M. Schomburg-Scherff)................. 600
Erny, Pierre : L’éducation au Rwanda au temps des rois.
Essais sur la tradition culturelle et pédgogique d’un pays
d’Afrique centrale (Hildegard Schürings)............... 602
Evans, Toby Susan, and Joanne Pillsbury (eds.):
Palaces of the Ancient New World. A Symposium at
Dumbarton Oaks 10th and 11th October 1998 (Ursula
Thiemer-Sachse)........................................ 604
Paiola, Toyin, and Matt D. Childs (eds.): The Yoru-
ba Diaspora in the Atlantic World (Lioba Rossbach de
Olmos)................................................. 606
Fleurdorge, Denis : Les rituels et les représentations du
pouvoir (Claude Rivière)............................... 607
Fogelson, Raymond D. (ed.): Handbook of North
American Indians; vol. 14: Southeast (Sylvia S. Kas-
prycki) ............................................... 608
Foster, Robert J.: Materializing the Nation. Commodi-
ties, Consumption, and Media in Papua New Guinea
(Hans Reithofer)....................................... 610
Fuentes Guerra, Jesús, y Armin Schwegler: Lengua
y ritos del Palo Monte Mayombe. Dioses cubanos y sus
fuentes africanas (Bettina Schmidt).................... 611
Green, Sarah E: Notes from the Balkans. Locat-
ing Marginality and Ambiguity on the Greek-Albanian
Border (Michaela Schäuble)............................. 612
Gudermann, Rita, und Bernhard Wulff: Der Sarotti-
Mohr. Die bewegte Geschichte einer Werbefigur (Elisa-
beth Schwarzer) ....................................
Gutwirth, Jacques: The Rebirth of Hasidism. 1945 to
the Present Day (Gerald F. Murray)..................
Handelman, Don, and Galina Lindquist (eds.): Ritual
in Its Own Right. Exploring the Dynamics of Transfor-
mation (Jacek Jan Pawlik)...........................
Hannerz, Ulf: Soulside. Inquiries into Ghetto Culture
and Community (Judith Lynne Hanna)..................
Hayden, Brian: Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints. A
Prehistory of Religion (Neil S. Price)..............
Menare, Amiria J.M.: Museums, Anthropology, and
Imperial Exchange (Markus Schindlbeck)..............
Hildebrand, Milton, und George E. Goslow: Ver-
gleichende und funktionelle Anatomie der Wirbeltiere
(Winfried Henke)....................................
Hoek, A. W. van den: Caturmäsa. Celebrations of Death
in Kathmandu, Nepal (Per Kvaeme)....................
Holmes-Eber, Paula: Daughters of Tunis. Women,
Family, and Networks in a Muslim City (Yamina Dir) . .
Ireson-Doolittle, Carol, and Geraldine Moreno-
Black: The Lao. Gender, Power, and Livelihood (Jana
Igunma).............................................
Jebens, Holger: Pathways to Heaven. Contesting Main-
line and Fundamentalist Christianity in Papua New
Guinea (Mary N. MacDonald)..........................
Johannessen, Helle, and Imre Lázár (eds.): Multiple
Medical Realities. Patients and Healers in Biomedical,
Alternative, and Traditional Medicine (Katarina Grei-
feld)...............................................
Julien, Marie-Pierre, et Céline Rosselin : La culture
matèriche (Claude Rivière)..........................
Kantor, Leda, y Olga Silvera (coords.): El anuncio de
los pájaros. Voces de la resistencia indígena (Diego Vil-
lar) ...............................................
Knab, Timothy J.: The Dialogue of Earth and Sky.
Dreams, Souls, Curing, and the Modem Aztec Under-
world (Bettina Schmidt).............................
Köhler, Ulrich (Hrsg.): Nueva Maravilla. Eine junge
Siedlung im Kontext massiver indianischer Migration
nach San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexiko (Gun-
ther Dietz) ........................................
Leopold, Mark: Inside West Nile. Violence, History,
and Representation on an African Frontier (Udo Mi-
schek)..............................................
Linnertz, Birgit P„: Tiyospaye. Politische Gmppen der
Plains-Indianer in der Vor-Reservationszeit (Ulrich van
der Heyden).........................................
McCabe, J. Terrence: Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies.
Turkana Ecology, Politics, and Raiding in a Disequilib-
rium System (Matthias Osterie)......................
Mahlke, Kirsten: Offenbarung im Westen. Frühe
Berichte aus der Neuen Welt (Eveline Dürr)..........
Martin, Jeannett: “Been-To”, “Burger”, “Transmigran-
ten?” Zur Bildungsmigration von Ghanaern und ihrer
Rückkehr aus der Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Boris
Nieswand) ..........................................
Miedema, Jelle, and Ger Reesink: One Head, Many
Faces. New Perspectives on the Bird’s Head Peninsula
of New Guinea (Terence E. Hays).....................
615
615
617
618
619
621
622
624
624
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
635
636
637
638
640
Niehof, Anke, and Firman Lubis (eds.): Two Is
Enough. Family Planning in Indonesia under the New
Order 1968-1998 (Susanne Schröter)...................
Polak, Rainer: Festmusik als Arbeit, Trommeln als Be-
ruf. Jenbe-Spieler in einer westafrikanischen Großstadt
(Hans Peter Hahn)....................................
Porath, Nathan: When the Bird Flies. Shamanic Ther-
apy and the Maintenance of Worldly Boundaries among
an Indigenous People of Riau (Sumatra) (Heinzpeter Znoj)
Roberts, Richard: Litigants and Households. African
Disputes and Colonial Courts in the French Soudan,
1895-1912 (T. O. Beidelman)..........................
Schäfer, Rita: Im Schatten der Apartheid. Frauen-
Rechtsorganisationen und geschlechtsspezifische Ge-
walt in Südafrika (Friederike Schneider).............
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk (Hrsg.):
Lokales Wissen - sozialwissenschaftliche Perspektiven
(Peter Schröder) ....................................
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk (Hrsg.):
Lokales Wissen - sozialwissenschaftliche Perspektiven
(Bernhard Wörrle)....................................
Schoormann, Matthias: Sozialer und religiöser Wandel
in Afrika. Die Tonga in Zimbabwe (Alexander Rödlach)
Schuerkens, Ulrike (ed.): Transnational Migrations and
Social Transformations (Ludger Pries)................
Stammei, Manfred: Die Wahrnehmung von Wohl-
stand und Armut. Geistesgeschichtliche Entwicklung
und indigene Kognition am Beispiel einer erweiterten
Verwandtschaftsgruppe in Teheran (Julia Droeber) . . .
Stewart, Pamela J,, and Andrew Strathern:
Witchcraft, Sorcery, Rumors, and Gossip (Klaus Hock) .
Stoller, Paul: Gallery Bundu. A Story about an African
Past (Philippe Laburthe-Tolra).......................
Taylor, Colin F., and Hugh A. Dempsey (eds.): The
People of the Buffalo. The Plains Indians of North
America. Military Art, Warfare, and Change (Dagmar
Siebelt).............................................
Toffln, Gérard : Ethnologie. La quête de l’autre (Pierre
Emy).................................................
van den Borne, Francine: Trying to Survive in Times
of Poverty and AIDS. Women and Multiple Partner Sex
in Malawi (Eleanor Preston-Whyte)....................
Walter, Mariko Namba, and Eva Jane Neumann Frid-
man (eds.): Shamanism. An Encyclopedia of World
Beliefs, Practices, and Culture (Wassilios Klein) ....
Whitehead, Neil L., and Robin Wright (eds.): In Dark-
ness and Secrecy. The Anthropology of Assault Sorcery
and Witchcraft in Amazonia (David Hicks).............
Winter, Karin; Österreichische Spuren in der Südsee.
Die Missionsreise von S. M. S. ALBATROS in den Jah-
ren 1895-1898 und ihre ökonomischen Hintergründe
(Hermann Mückler) ...................................
641
642
644
646
647
649
650
651
652
653
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
663
Neue Publikationen ....
Zeitschriftenschau .......
Reply ....................
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Index 2006 .............
Index 1906-2005 (CD-ROM)
665
681
680
703
7 09
724
Anthropos 101.2006
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 379-402
Order in a Disordered World
The Bertha House (Western Ethiopia)
Alfredo Gonzalez-Ruibal
Abstract. - The structuring of domestic space among the Bertha
Pe°ple of the Sudanese-Ethiopian borderland is described. The
^ertha are one of the largest Nilo-Saharan groups currently liv-
lng in Ethiopia, and they stretch out further west into Sudan.
The overwhelming majority of the population lives in traditional
r°und houses made with bamboo and straw. Despite their mas-
Slve conversion to Islam, they still have a number of pre-Muslim
Practices, some of them clearly reflected on the use and or-
ganization of the house. The relevance of domestic space for
Ordering the world and its relationship to the body are stressed.
'■udan-Ethiopia borderland, Bertha, Nilo-Saharans, domestic
sPace]
fredo González-Ruibal received his Ph.D. in Prehistoric Ar-
^ aeology from the Complutense University of Madrid (2003).
e is now a MEC/Fulbright visiting scholar at the Stanford Ar-
aeology Center (California). - He has carried out archaeolog-
A and ethnoarchaeological research on domestic architecture
11 (Alicia (Spain) and in Benishangul-Gumuz (Ethiopia). - His
hcations include: “Etnoarqueología de la emigración. Terra
j^e ^°ntes (Galicia)” (Pontevedra 2003) and “The Need for a
paying past An Archaeology of Oblivion in Contemporary
Jcia (NW Spain)” {Home Cultures 2005), both focus on the
anings of the destruction of vernacular architecture. - See
s° References Cited.
Int
roduction
Rthropologists have pointed out on several occa-
n.s ^e enormous symbolic relevance of houses,
rhcularly in premodem communities. Houses are
, a simple reflection of social values; instead,
uey play an active role in their materialization,
hxation
when i
and reproduction. This is especially clear
Sense,
h comes to notions of order. Houses, in this
act as an organizing structure that allows
their occupants to sort out the world, to distinguish
the domestic and the wild, death and life, female
and male, clean and dirty by means of a few simple
principles, such as in/out, right/left, up/down, and
front/back (Bourdieu 1970: 746, 748). As Cunning-
ham (1973; 204) states, “order concerns not just
discrete ideas or symbols, but a system; and the sys-
tem expresses both principles of classification and a
value for classification per se, the definition of unity
and difference.” In some cases, buildings can en-
capsulate very complex cosmological and mytho-
logical meanings, such as origin myths and ge-
nealogical information. Some of the best examples
explored to date come from sub-Saharan Africa1
and, meaningfully, the most complex cases of space
organization come from equally complex societies:
the Swahili and many Madagascar peoples (Bet-
sileo, Sakalava, Merina) are paradigmatic. In this
article, a house of an egalitarian group of slash-
and-bum agriculturalists from western Ethiopia, the
Bertha, is studied. The main issues that will be dealt
with concern the regional variations of the Bertha
house, the rituals surrounding the house, and the
relevance of space and the human body for ordering
the world.
Between 2001 and 2005, four archaeological
and ethnoarchaeological fieldseasons were car-
ried out in Benishangul-Gumuz National Regional
State, in western Ethiopia, along the Sudanese bor-
derland (Map 1, Map 2), by the Department of Pre-
1 E.g., Feeley-Harnik 1980; Preston Blier 1987; Donley-Reid
1990; Beidelman 1991; Hahn 2000; etc.
380
Alfredo Gonzâlez-Ruibal
Map 1: In grey, the territory oc-
cupied by the Bertha in Beni-
shangul-Gumuz National Region-
al State (Ethiopia), with indica-
tion of weredas (municipalities).
Map 2: The region in the Suda
nese-Ethiopian borderland.
Anthropos 101.2006
Order in a Disordered World
381
Fig.
1: A typical Bertha village: Shálák’o Dabus (Asosa wereda).
history of the Complutense University of Madrid,
under the direction of Víctor M. Fernández Marti-
nez- During this work, ethnographic material was
Sphered by the author of this article, most of it re-
ated to the organization of domestic space among
he Bertha, as well as to pottery production and
lstribution (González-Ruibal 2005).
The Bertha live in round huts, made of interwo-
Ven bamboo and covered with thatch, which form
Ullages of a few hundred individuals (Fig. 1). The
hts are loosely clustered in family compounds,
hich lack physical limits in rural areas but are
ehdowed with bamboo fences in urban areas (the
P Phals of the weredas) (see González-Ruibal and
^ernández Martínez 2003). The location of houses
d compounds is mainly determined by kinship. A
. °^se, strictly speaking (that is, the place where an
^dependent married couple lives), is labelled shuli.
§roup of houses (family compound) receives the
wti ic name °f khosh, which can also apply to the
too 6 V'^a£e’ known with the Arabic word hilla,
Anthr,
°Pos 101.2006
The Bertha and the Nilo-Saharan Peoples
of the Sudan-Ethiopia Borderland
The Bertha, numbering 150,000 individuals, are
the prevailing ethnic group in Benishangul-Gumuz
National Regional State, a region characterized by
its complex ethnic mosaic. They speak a language
belonging to the Nilo-Saharan family, which is a
particular branch in itself. It is not possible to link
it to the Komuz group (Bender 1994), that includes
Gumuz and the Koman languages (Uduk, Komo,
Kwama, Gwama, and maybe southern Mao). All
these groups, along with the Maban, Ingessana,
Shita, Hameg, northern Mao, and others are lumped
together in the term “Pre-Nilotes,” proposed by the
Italian colonial anthropologist Vinigi Grottanelli
in the 1940s (Grottanelli 1948). Grottanelli distin-
guished the Nilotes (Nuer, Dinka, Shilluk, Azande,
etc.) from the “Pre-Nilotes,” based on different
linguistic and ethnographic criteria, such as the
symbolic relevance of cattle and the existence of
age groups among the Nilotes - both being absent
382
Alfredo Gonzâlez-Ruibal
among the “Pre-Nilotes” and the existence of
matrilineal elements, the use of bows and arrows, or
the prevalence of slash-and-bum agriculture among
the latter. It is worth noting that many Nilotes claim
a shared common ancestry: the Nuer recognize a re-
lationship with the Shilluk, Anuak, and Dinka, and
the Shilluk recognize a relationship with the Nuer
(Butt 1952: 23-25), whereas the “Pre-Nilotes” are
always excluded.
The term “Pre-Nilote,” anyhow, is an unfortu-
nate one. It establishes a dubious historical prece-
dence for the Nilotes over some Nilo-Saharan bor-
derland groups, a temporal relation that is extreme-
ly difficult to prove. On the other hand, even if
that precedence is historically true, it turns these
societies into a sort of living fossil, a prehistoric
remain - an old anthropological tendency that has
been strongly criticized (Fabian 1983). Some au-
thors have shown the historical vicissitudes that
these groups have suffered in the recent past as well
as in the present, and how they have affected their
culture (James 1979, 1988a, 1988b). Jfdrej (1995)
has proposed the term “deep rurals,” first applied
to some West African communities, to account for
their cultural resilience in a politically turbulent re-
gion. Nevertheless, although “Pre-Nilote” is not a
good label, this does not mean that an actual cul-
tural relationship among the Nilo-Saharan border-
land peoples of Sudan and Ethiopia does not exist.
As James (1988a: 270) writes “many elements re-
cur among the Bertha, Koman peoples, Hill Burun,
and Meban, though in different combinations and
with different emphases in each community, and no
doubt in the same community at different times.” In
this article, the coincidences among the Bertha and
other borderland peoples will be pointed out.
One of the main conditioning features of the
social lives of the Sudanese-Ethiopian borderland
peoples is the strain they have been subjected to for
centuries. The frontier has been anything but static
in the last two hundred years, a fact that bears neg-
ative implications for the local inhabitants. They
have been raided, enslaved, and banished from their
lands by their more powerful neighbors, the Su-
danese Nilotes, the Arabs, and the Abyssinian em-
pire (see James 1979, 1988a, 1988b; J$drej 1995,
2004), since the Middle Ages. Some groups may
have been completely erased due to the intensity of
the slave raids, and many others, such as the Uduk,
have been compelled to change their abodes many
times to avoid annihilation (James 2002). These ter-
rible experiences reached their highest momentum
in the second half of the 19th century and again in
the 1970s and 1980s. Slavery only disappeared in
the 1940s, while the frontier between Sudan and
Ethiopia was not eventually fixed until 1902 (Ab-
dussamad 2001). In the Sudanese case, the return
to the evil days in the late 1970s was motivated by
the Civil War, while in the Ethiopian case it was the
resettlement of several thousand farmers from the
highlands to the lowlands that caused great distress
to the local indigenous communities - as well as
the war between the communist government and its
enemies.
Nevertheless, despite all the adversities and the
chaos they have been hurled into so often, local
communities have reconstructed their identities and
the order of their world time and again with aston-
ishing tenacity. The borderland life and the resis-
tance to the encroachment of their neighbors have
played an outstanding role in the configuration of
their society and their conception of the world.
The Bertha House and Its Regional Variations
As it has been said, the Bertha house - the main
building where the parents and younger children
sleep, cook, and eat - is known as shuli. Most
Bertha compounds have very few structures: apart
from the main house there is a granary (luuba),
a raised drying platform (adasa), where sorghum
is left to dry, and a stockyard for sheep and goats
(,mada). Sometimes small raised hen coops can also
be seen. However, grain can be stored in the shetab,
a platform inside the house, and animals can be kept
in the outer ring. Besides, one can also build a hut
for guests (khalwa or shut bongoru), and when a
young boy enters adolescence, he usually builds a
house for himself, called shut gedu, “boy’s house,
close to the parent’s shuli. Interestingly, khalwa is
an Arabic word that means “being alone, in pri'
vacy,” usually implying the absence of women, and
the Bertha khalwa is, in fact, a place where men
alone socialize (talk, drink coffee). Nevertheless,
the Arabic khalwa is at the same time a space of
retirement, in which the adoration of God is exclu-
sive, something that does not occur in the Bertha
culture. In any case, this can be considered a struc-
ture of recent introduction in Benishangul. Finally’
we can mention the aij ketela, the “place of cir-
cumcision,” also called bet at-tahara in Arabic, the
“house of the circumcision specialist,” which is for'
mally the same as any other house. It is remarkable
that the Bertha do not have a proper name for the
family compound: as it has been pointed out, they
use the same term as for the whole village (khosa
or hilla), and even that name is a borrowing fr°111
the Arabic. This underlines the strong degree of u1'
tegration that exists between each particular family
1OI.2006
Anthropos
Order in a Disordered World
383
Concentric house Central yard house
^mhr
'°Pos 101.2006
Fig. 2: The three main house models and their
distribution in Benishangul.
384
Alfredo Gonzâlez-Ruibal
and the whole village, a proof of the strong collec-
tive values that prevail among the Bertha.
Even the most homogeneous communities allow
a certain degree of variability in their architecture
and organization of domestic space. The regional
survey carried out in Benishangul allowed us to dis-
tinguish a substantial formal diversity in vernacular
architecture, even if basic social principles applied
everywhere. We can thus distinguish three models
of main houses - shuli (Fig. 2):
- Katiya house: This appears in the central inte-
rior area of Benishangul (eastern Asosa wereda and
Khomosha and Menge weredas). It is character-
ized by the prevalence of ample, open multifunc-
tional buildings, endowed with a thin wall {katiya)
that delimits a kitchen space at the back of the
house, and several interior poles. Sometimes it has
a narrow outer ring for keeping animals and stor-
ing things. It is very similar to the houses of other
so-called “pre-Nilotic” communities in the area
(Kwama, Gumuz, and southern Mao). This model
existed among the southern Mao in the 1930s ac-
cording to Grottanelli (1940: 163-165).
- Central yard house: This is located in the north-
ern part of Benishangul (Gizen wereda). The
kitchen and the living house occupy two different
structures that are located one facing the other. The
kitchen also works as a storehouse. Both buildings
are joined by bamboo walls, delimiting a central
yard, in which sometimes a granary is built. The
doors of the houses are normally covered with mud
and painted.
- Concentric house or Mayu house: This appears
in the escarpment area (western Benishangul) and
probably also in Sudan. It is characterized by large
buildings with a smaller round structure inside. The
outer ring hosts a kitchen and the children’s bed-
room, whereas the inner space is occupied by the
parents, a storage area and another kitchen. This
model was already recorded by Mamo (1874; 60,
74f., pi. 8) and later, in 1907, by British adminis-
trators {SAD: A2/126). In the 1950s, its existence
among the Ganza is described by Davies (1960: 27)
and we had the opportunity to see it among the
northern Mao, around Bambasi, although it is diffi-
cult to ascertain whether this is their traditional hut
or has been adopted from the neighbouring Bertha
- the Mao have adopted different material traditions
from their Bertha, Komo, and Oromo neighbors.
Finally, there is an area around Bambasi, in
southern Bertha territory, where there is a strong
ethnic mixture: We find Bertha belonging to the
Fadasi subgroup, along with Mao, Kwama/Gwama
(usually labelled Komo), Oromo, and Amhara. Al-
though the concentric model seems to be quite
widespread, other housing solutions are found (we
have left this area blank in the map).
Naturally, the homestead is more than the main
house alone. We have to take into account the other
ancillary structures. Unlike the design of the main
houses, the appearance of the Bertha compound is
basically the same all over Benishangul. Nonethe-
less, it is important to note that in the Mayu area
and around towns compounds usually have more
huts, while in rural and secluded areas multifunc-
tional buildings prevail. When I asked in Obora
(Menge) why they did not use the katiya house,
they said that they build many smaller buildings
instead. This segmentation and specialization of
the space must be linked to important changes in
Bertha society, leading towards a more complex so-
cial organization (see Kent 1990 for cross-cultural
comparisons).
What is the rationale behind the diversity in
house models? Geographical, social, and cultural
principles are at play. The central yard model shows
a striking resemblance with the Nilo-Saharan
houses of the Sudanese borderland, specifically
with Maban houses.2 The Maban have small huts
with mud-plastered doors, usually decorated with
geometric designs. The kitchen usually occupies a
different hut and all the structures in each corn-
pound are surrounded by a fence. The Ingessana,
another Sudanese Nilo-Saharan group, have also
doors plastered with mud and stockades that delimit
the compounds. The huts are all facing a central
yard (Jçdrej 1995: Fig. 2; ill. 2). The vicinity of Su-
dan may explain the use of this layout among the
northeastern Bertha, along with the greater pres-
ence of livestock (mainly goats), that may bother
the residents of the compounds. The presence of
domestic animals has been identified many times
by different people in Benishangul (both Bertha
and Gumuz) as the main reason to raise fences.
The katiya house, as it has been pointed out,
is redolent of Komo and Gumuz structures, al-
though the partition wall itself does not appear of-
ten among the latter. The Bertha state that they
come from Sudan, where they played a promt'
nent role in the famous Funj kingdom. As a mat-
ter of fact, many Funj traditions do resemble those
still maintained or remembered by the Ethiopia11
Bertha - trumpet music, harvest rituals, the sac-
rifice of the king,3 whereas the Bertha people ot
2 We had the opportunity to see Maban houses in the refug66
camp of Sherkole, where several thousand Sudanese (mainv
Maban, Uduk, and Berta/Funj) are living.
3 Evans-Pritchard 1932:60; Whitehead 1934:217; Triul21
1981b: 41-55.
101.2006
Anthropos
Order in a Disordered World
385
Sudan are sometimes called Funj. Before they ar-
rived in Ethiopia, other groups inhabited the region.
According to Bertha traditions, these groups were
probably the ancestors of the modem Komo and
Mao (Triulzi 1981b: 23 f.). Archaeology and eth-
noarchaeology also prove the existence of commu-
nities probably belonging to what some linguists
(Bender 1994) have called Komuz family (includ-
ing Komo and Gumuz) prior to the arrival of the
Bertha to the area. The pottery recovered in ar-
chaeological sites in Benishangul, dated between
the 1st and the 17th century A.D., resembles that of
the modern Komo and Gumuz (Fernández Martínez
2004), while the current pottery of the Komo and
Gumuz shares many features, despite being sepa-
rated by the Bertha (González-Ruibal 2005). The
architecture of the Komo, Gumuz, southern Mao
(Grottanelli 1940), and central Bertha is extremely
similar. It is, thus, possible that the Bertha houses
°f the interior part of Benishangul follow the model
that existed prior to their arrival to the area, that is,
a widely shared “pre-Nilotic” house model. Partic-
uiar types of scarifications, adornments, and other
Material elements, especially among women, in
eastern Benishangul also bear strong resemblance
to those of the Komuz peoples.
Finally, the more segmented model, the concen-
tric house, seems to be structurally coherent with
the more complex (unequal) social organization to
kc found in the western part of the region. It con-
trasts sharply with the open, multifunctional space
°f the katiya house. In the escarpment area, Islam is
Wronger and older than in other parts of Benishan-
§uh and there is more ethnic and social diversity,
^he concentric house model allows a more hier-
archical and rigid organization of domestic space
(not only because of the two rings but also because
°f the partition walls that usually divide the outer
r'ng), and also provides more intimacy, preventing
°utsiders from looking indoors. The Bertha who
lnhabit the escarpment belong to the Mayu group,
Perhaps meaning “there is [Arab blood] in” (An-
areas Neudorf, pers. comm.). They are proud of
h£ir Sudanese ancestry and, as a matter of fact,
hGr skin is lighter than that of the people from
^ore interior lands in Benishangul. Most of them
sP^ak Arabic or mix it with Bertha. They are more
^rihodox Muslims (or so they claim) than other
eriha, and boast of their Sudanese connections
ravellings, acquaintances, or family). They use
e Word Bertha as a pejorative denomination for
^rker-skinned and more traditional people. It has
een written that the names of ethnic groups in the
udanese-Ethiopian borderland do not label dis-
^rete cultural communities as much as “mark posi-
Anthr.
'°P0S 101.2006
tions in a ranking of status and prestige ... Ja’alyin,
Watawit, Jabalwiin, Funj, Hamaj, Berta, and Burun,
come to represent points on scales between urban
and rural, Muslim and pagan, superior and infe-
rior, and master and slave ...” (J?drej 2004: 720).
This is made obvious in the difference between the
Mayu and the other Bertha. From a material point
of view, the distinction in status is played out in the
more elaborate and complex character of the Mayu
houses, as compared to the rural Bertha.
Despite the considerable variety of house mod-
els, it is worth noting that externally Bertha houses
are extremely similar all over Benishangul; the
characteristic round structure of interwoven bam-
boo and, fundamentally, the four long poles that
crown the roof (shimbir) make any Bertha house
easily recognizable and conspicuous in the land-
scape, a fact that may not be without significance
in an area inhabited by numerous ethnic groups,
especially since the resettlement of highlanders in
the 1980s.
Elements for the History of Bertha Houses
A usual problem with many ethnographic descrip-
tions of houses is the absence of time-depth. De-
spite being a very conservative element in any so-
ciety, houses do evolve and change as social con-
ditions and historical circumstances change. This
is also clear in the Bertha case. Actually, there is
nothing like “the” Bertha house, transcending time
and space, but several ways of materializing sim-
ilar notions of domestic space. Unfortunately, we
only have information for the escarpment area, that
is occupied by houses belonging to the concentric
model. Significantly, all authors from the 19th cen-
tury onwards mention this house as the prototypical
Bertha house (e.g., Grottanelli 1948: 298), whereas
it is completely unknown in most of Benishangul.
This warns us against easy generalizations based on
limited regional surveys. Our archaeological survey
of the region (Fernández Martínez 2004) allowed
us to discover many deserted Bertha villages from
a few decades to a couple of centuries old.
According to local legends, after their arrival
from Sudan (around the late 17th or early 18th cen-
tury), the sedentarization of the Bertha led to in-
ternecine warfare and conflicts over the possession
and distribution of the land (Triulzi 1981a). The sit-
uation was aggravated by the slave raids conducted
by neighbouring communities, such as the Su-
danese Shukriyya, Rufa’a and Baggara (McHugh
1994; 157), the Gromo, and the Bertha themselves
(Abdussamad 2001). As a product of this unstable
386
Alfredo Gonzàlez-Ruibal
Fig. 3: Remains of Bertha huts
from ca. 19th century in the place
of A1 Medina (Khomosha we-
re da).
situation they decided to migrate to mountainous
areas and to establish their villages in naturally pro-
tected places, usually high, rocky outcrops in hills
and mountains, surrounded by steep cliffs. This
dramatic locational change - from the Sudanese
plains to the rough mountains of Ethiopia - must
have had important social effects beyond the pure
material conditions of life (Grottanelli 1948: 312).
A description of these settlements is provided by
Romolo Gessi Pasha (1892: 159f.):
This mountain arrested our attention because, among the
ravines between one mass and another, lay the houses or
tukul of the poor savages, and the vast hollows of the
whole mountain are filled by such huts; hence the name
of the village, Agaro. And to think that at the foot of
the mountain extends a plain on which such habitations
might be built with more advantage! But the fear of an
invasion by the natives of Tabi [Ingessana] caused the
natives to prefer homes that differ little from an eagle’s
nest, rather than decent and comfortable houses.
These mountainous places were occupied by par-
ticular Bertha clans that, after their descent to the
plains in the 20th century, gave their name to the
area: S’alenger near Asosa, Satoqo near Menge,
and Gashue near Kubri Hamsa, for example (cf.
also Triulzi 1981b: 24, 31). A similar process was
attested by James (1979: 25) among the Uduk:
“With conditions of greater general security, these
larger communities have become fragmented and
the component birth-groups have now spread out
into dispersed hamlets. But in the neighbourhood
of each hill, hamlets are still identified as the people
of... ” The organization of the space at these eleva-
tions was adapted to their irregular and rocky sur-
faces. Granaries and houses were constructed over
big boulders and flat areas; there are some slight
terracing works, and houses and other structures
were built on top of stone pillars (Fig. 3).
The drawings and descriptions of the first Eu-
ropean travellers in the area, such as Cailliaud
(1826-27), Mamo (1874), Schuver (James etal-
1996: 394), and Gessi Pasha (1892: 165), and the
photographs taken by the British colonial author-
ities in the Sudan in the late 19th and early 20th
century (SAD: A2/126) permit a reconstruction of
the appearance of the early Bertha settlements and
their huts. One of Cailliaud’s engravings shows a
Bertha village in a rocky hillock (Agady, maybe
Gessi Pasha’s Agaro) attacked by Turks (Cailh'
aud 1826-27/11: pi. 2). There seems to be unfenced
clusters of huts, comprising residential structures,
granaries, and stockyards. The buildings are dis'
tributed among the rocks and trees as in Gessi
Pasha’s description. This layout is very similar
to that of modem Bertha villages, the only dif'
ference being the flat land in which the settle-
ments are nowadays established. Schuver stated
that “the Berta homesteads are mostly better con-
4 James et al. (1996) also reproduce some engravings of ott>er
19th-century travellers mentioned here (Gessi Pasha, Main0’
and Cailliaud).
101.2006
Anthropos
Order in a Disordered World
387
bj
c*8-4: a typical Bertha hut of the 19th century, raised on a platform. The indoor structure is the same as that of the modern
°ncentric or Mayu houses (after Marno 1874: pi. 8).
Anthropos 101.2006
388
Alfredo González-Ruibal
stmcted than those of the sedentary Arabs of the
Blue Nile plain and many are built on a raised
platform, supported by a number of granitic frag-
ments” (James etal. 1996: 39) (Fig. 4). As late as
the 1950s, Davies (1960; 25) recorded the existence
of raised houses among the so-called Hill Buruq,
probably related to the Bertha. However, he says
that mountain settlements - and, therefore, their
particular architecture - were much more common
before the 1950s. Houses on raised platforms prob-
ably disappeared in the 1950s, with the descent to
the plains: The even surface of the flatlands made
raised structures superfluous. The platform of the
Bertha house, which was so characteristic in the
19th and early 20th century, however, has survived
in big collective granaries ([luuba) (González-Rui-
bal and Fernández Martínez 2003: fig. 12) and also
in the aforementioned she tab, which is a platform
for storing grain and tools that can adopt the shape
of a round hut.
The organization of the space indoors in the
time of Ernst Marno and Juan Maria Schuver is
similar to that still in use among the Mayu Bertha.
According to Shuver, houses had
a round and strong tower of mudplastered bamboo in the
centre, the interior of the tower forming a granary and
general magazine, while the space between the tower and
the outer wall, forming a circular gallery, is occupied by
the family (James et al. 1996: 39).
As we will see below, the organization of the
space indoors is slightly more complex than Schu-
ver thought, although the description is accurate in
its overall details. The more thorough description
comes from Mamo (1874: 75f.), who visited Ben-
ishangul a few years before Schuver, in 1869:
Their shape is the same [as the Sudanese huts], cylindri-
cal with a conic roof, but the execution shows much more
accuracy, carefulness, and I would almost say, comfort.
These huts are not erected directly over the ground, but
in order to have an even surface, which is not granted
by a steep and sloping terrain, often covered with big and
small boulders, as well as to drain off the water during the
rainy season, they are raised several feet over the ground.
Some of the available larger boulders are used, or,
when these are not enough, a bigger number of them
is brought; sometimes, however, tree trunks are used,
strongly thrust into the earth, so that the floor is raised
around 2 feet over the ground and the water has free
outlet underneath. On top of this base strong tree trunks
are then set in an annular and radial way; over this, reeds
are tightly tied and covered by a layer of earth 3-4
inches thick. At the center, a higher cylinder, made of
interwoven reeds and covered with mud, is mounted and
forms the interior of the hut...
The cylindrical room indoors has a door in the oppo-
site direction of the external one. The ring-shaped room
is frequently divided with partition walls. The hearth and
the bed places are elevations along the walls. One or
more skins are laid over the bed places, since the eas-
ier and more practical anqareb [Sudanese bed] is only
posssessed by the nobles [Vornehmen].
The description matches quite well the actual
Bertha house in the Mayu area, except for the fact
that houses are no longer supported on top of boul-
ders or trunks. It is remarkable that the interior and
the exterior doors have different orientations, a fact
that is still prevalent today, and that allows for a
greater intimacy and isolation of the inner structure
(the one occupied by the parents and where the
most valuable things are stored) and also protection
against evil spirits. We have not seen raised beds at
all among the Bertha nor among any other Nilo-
Saharan group of Ethiopia. On the contrary, they
are quite frequent among the Amhara and Oromo
0madabi), who lack anqareb, and also among the
Nilotic Maban.
Indoor space seems to have been very conserva-
tive: the concentric house model in western Ben-
ishangul was in full use in the mid-19th century
and still prevails in the Mayu area. Meaningfully»
when Audun Hamis, the doctor-diviner (qeri) of
Asosa, was asked if this house model was recent, he
said very emphatically that, on the contrary, it was
extremely old (qadim, qadim!). The same reaction
to this question was recorded in the Kurmuk area-
Most probably, however, the more archaic indoor
layout in Benishangul is that of the eastern interior
part, due to its striking resemblance to Gumuz and
Kwama architecture. It can be hypothesized that
the model was borrowed from the Komuz popula-
tions chased away after the occupation of the re-
gion, while the concentric house was brought from
the Sudan - Gessi Pasha (1892: 289) offers an im-
age of a hut on a raised platform from southern
Sudan, similar to those depicted by Marno in the
Bertha country. It is not amazing that architecture
has suffered greater morphological and external
changes than indoor domestic space. Usually, the
most relevant cultural principles are inscribed im
doors and many meanings, due to the simplicity m
their structuration (up/down, right/left, front/back)»
can be applied to different structures without losing
effectiveness. As we will see, the actual shape m
the house is less important than the semantizatm11
to which it is subjected and this has probably not
changed much in the last 200 years.
Anthropos 101.20*^
Order in a Disordered World
389
Building a House
Before building a house, many Bertha decide to
consult a ritual specialist (rjeri), to find out whether
the place is propitious or not. This custom was
probably very widespread in the past but it is now
fading away, due to the progressive generalization
of more orthodox Muslim beliefs and the paucity of
diviners. The relevance of this practice, however,
might be underestimated due to the unwillingness
of the Bertha to admit that they resort to traditional
rituals.
There are two main ways a rjeri can get to
know whether a place is adequate to build a house
or not. One of them consists in lighting a fire of
ebony or a wood called bibi. The fate of the cho-
sen place is discovered by observing and interpret-
ing the flames. This ritual, called sharjgur, was
recorded by Alessandro Triulzi in 1972 (Triulzi
1981b: 26) and its current existence was revealed
to us by Ramadan Talow, the rjeri from Menge.
divination through fire is well attested among other
kfilo-Saharan groups in the area, such as the Uduk
(James 1979: 216-219), whose concept of rjari has
keen borrowed from the Bertha, and the Burnt]5
(Mostyn 1921: 209).
Another rite involves the use of cowrie shells
(hudu) or, more rarely, seeds (a kind of bean, most
Probably castor). The rjeri throws seven shells6 or
Seeds to the ground and depending on the way they
are displayed he decides whether it is propitious to
kuild a house in the selected place or not (Fig. 5).
fdeally, six out of the seven shells must be aligned
ln a row; if they fell at random, without any ap-
Parent order, the rjeri can try again. If the result is
'•ke same, the place where the house was planned
. be built has to be abandoned. On the contrary,
the location is propitious, he thrusts a bamboo
stlck into the ground, in the exact place where the
cowries were thrown, and two other sticks in the
Place were the house is to be built. This practice
^ divination with cowries has also been noted for
kc Komo (James 1988a: 275). For the purposes
°f divination, small polished stones - small quartz
Pebbles as among the Nuba (Seligman and Selig-
man 1932: 404) - can also be used, in combination
^dh cowries or seeds. These are called bele ro (rain
ftones or thunder stones) in Bertha and are well-
n°wn among other Nilo-Saharan communities,
Such as the Juo, Acholi (Butt 1952: 89f.), Lotuko,
^ A blanket term that comprises Uduk, Komo, Hill Burun,
Maban, etc.
Jke number seven has religious significance for the Bertha.
1 abo appears in other rituals (see below).
^athix
roPos 101.2006
Fig. 5 : Ramadan Talow foreseeing the future with the help of
cowries (Menge).
Nuba, Uduk (Seligman and Seligman 1932: 327,
398f., 440f.), and Maban (Wedderburn-Maxwell
1936: 183). Among the Bertha, their use is not con-
strained to rainmaking, as their name might lead
one to suppose, but to divination in general. Having
thrown the hudu, the rjeri looks at the stones to
interpret their meaning and then decides whether
the chosen location of the house is favourable or
not. Divination played a significant role among the
Bertha; and even today, many people do not build a
house, go to the market, embark on a travel, or un-
dertake any important task without consulting the
rjeri.
As in most traditional societies, the construction
of a house is an important social event among the
Bertha. Once the place and date have been selected,
family and neighbours have to cooperate in the
construction of a house, at least the main one -
granaries, stockyards, guest houses, etc. are usu-
ally built by the owners alone. Reroofing is usually
carried out by the community, too. The name of
the collective work among the Bertha is maha or
amaha,1 which can be applied to any other kind of 7
7 The Bertha always add the Arabic article al- to all the sub-
stantives. Sometimes it is not easy to know if a substantive
begins with a- or if a- refers to the article.
390
Alfredo Gonzâlez-Ruibal
Fig. 6: Thatching a house through
the amaha. Keshaf (Khomosha
wereda).
activity carried out by members of different houses
such as agricultural labor. As work parties often do,
the maha serves as a means of reinforcing commu-
nity ties and as a levelling mechanism. There are a
number of Bertha proverbs that underline the im-
portance of neighbors: “When your neighbor dies,
it is you who will be questioned about it,” “You
have to love your neighbors more than you love
your parents,” etc. As a compensation for the work,
the house’s head has to invite everyone who pro-
vides labor to beer, sugar, and coffee and, after the
house has been inaugurated, to the meat of the goat
or chicken that have been ritually sacrificed. Music
is sometimes played during the work parties. Tra-
ditional Bertha instruments are the long calabash
trumpets of different sizes (wasa), bamboo flutes
(zumbara), and horns (bulwj). Similar work par-
ties are attested among other neighbouring Nilo-
Saharans, such as the Gumuz - who apparently
lack a specific name for maha -, northern Mao -
who call it maka -, and Ingessana (Jçdrej 1995: 27).
The construction of a house usually takes a whole
day, from dawn till dusk. Smaller details, such as
plastering, additional partition walls, or outer rings
are normally carried out by the family alone, and,
in fact, it is not unusual to see people living for
months in an unfinished house. Women prepare
food and drinks, but they are deprived of any other
participation in the construction of the house - un-
less they are widows. Therefore, men have to cut
construction materials: wood, bamboo (gagu), and
straw (fiera) - although transportation to the village
is most often done by women; men also (usually
elders) must prepare flat strips of bamboo with
axes, knifes, and wooden hammers, which have not
changed since Marno (1874: pi. 7, 17) visited the
area; and men are in charge of the construction or
replacement of the roof, too (Fig. 6).
The Bertha are an egalitarian group, desphe
being considered as hierarchical by their even
more egalitarian neighbours. They had chiefs
called agur, sometimes translated as “king” (Tri-
ulzi 1981b: 27). The informations collected by
early travellers in Benishangul also reinforced the
idea of an area ruled by paramount chiefs of
sheikhs (cf. Whitehead 1934). The real power of
these rulers was probably quite limited, at least
in the rural areas. Equality is clearly negotiated
in house-building. Until very recently, the Bertha
houses were completely undecorated (Grottanelh
1948:316) and lacked any other symbol of diS'
tinction. Even today, painted or engraved decora-
tions are more a children’s or youngsters’ enter'
tainment than a way of enhancing or distinguish'
ing the house. Size is never a way of displaying
status either. The fact that houses are collectively
built also precludes the possibility of using then1
for purposes of social distinction or for accruing
wealth or power. The Bertha divide their huts by
function (main house, unmarried boy’s house, guesf
house) but also by size. Depending on the nun1'
ber of cubits (1 cubit = ±50 cm) or double cubhs
(kind), they call them - in growing order - siWsl
(6 cubits or 3 double cubits), subai (7), tumani (8)’
Anthropos 101-20^
Order in a Disordered World
391
^ig-7: Building an external ring
to enlarge a kitchen and trans-
forming it in a main house. Gun-
dol (Asosa).
Ushari (10), atnasharawi (12), arbatasharawi (14),
Sltasharawi (16). The number of variants (seven) is
Probably not casual, given the symbolic relevance
°f this number among the Bertha. Usually, the
^rgest structures are used as guest houses (khalwa),
and their size depends upon the number of fam-
% members that have to be sheltered in case of
Addings, funerals, or other relevant events. The
^taller buildings host unmarried boys or kitchens.
Rouses can grow as families grow. They are living
beings in perpetual transformation: an outer ring
bfay be added if children are born, or it might be
removed if it is deemed no longer necessary - be-
CaUse of a boy’s coming of age or the marriage of
a girl. Sometimes, the owner of the house decides
to build a new building and the old one is reused
as a storehouse or stall. Sometimes it is simply left
0 decay, after recycling some materials. The con-
bbntric house model is the most flexible of all and,
bus, the one most subject to changes (Fig. 7). Be-
^veen 2002 and 2005 I had the occasion to observe
f transformation of Gundul, a small quarter of
s°sa, parallel to the transformation of its inhabi-
ts’ life (deaths, weddings, migration). In a sense,
ertha houses and compounds are never finished,
bey are continually evolving; they have their par-
eular lives which are intimately intertwined with
°se of their inhabitants - for a similar perspective
^ee Moore (1986: 91-98). Once again, this flexible
°Use model is structurally coherent with the soci-
, y of the area, since the people in the escarpment
Ve more dynamic and fluid existences - travel-
ling, changing of residence, and social upgrading
are easier - than those inhabiting the more remote
interior lands of Benishangul.
The two main reasons to found a new house
are a boy’s coming of age and marriage. Once a
child reaches adolescence (around 12 years old),
he usually builds a new hut for himself. For the
construction of this small hut, he receives no aid.
It is not a real emancipation, since the boy still
depends on his parents for his sustenance: only the
house with two hearths (one for cooking and one
for preparing coffee and for warmth) is a real house,
and the boy’s house has only one.
Collective work occurs when a married couple
needs a new family house - an independent main
house. However, the new home is not built imme-
diately after marriage. After the wedding, the hus-
band has to go to the village of his wife’s parents,
where he will reside in his father-in-law’s com-
pound and work for him - a custom found among
other neighbouring groups, such as the Ingessana
(J§drej 1995: 22, 27; 2004: 719), where it is called
kalam (maybe related to the Arabic karamd). This
situation usually lasts a year, but it may take longer
(up to four years), depending on the needs of the
bride’s family. If there are no sons to help the father,
the son-in-law must help him longer. This is proba-
bly a remnant of matrilinea! traditions, as has been
observed among other neighbouring Nilo-Saharan
groups (James 1979). A groom must usually build
a temporary house in his prospective father-in-law’s
compound before the wedding.
“■epos 101.2006
392
Alfredo González-Ruibal
Fig. 8: Organization of the space in a katiya house. Isa Muhammad’s home (Fulederu, Asosa wereda).
Fig. 9: The organization of the space in a concentric house. Audun Hamis’ home (Gundul, Asosa).
Front and Back - Space and Body
As in most architectural traditions, the Bertha
house is a structuring structure (Donley-Reid 1990)
and, as it is often the case in vernacular housing,
this structuring nature is played out through anthro-
pomorphic metaphors (Preston Blier 1987). Each
part of the Bertha house is related to a member of
the body: the roof is the head, (shul) alú. The hearth
is the stomach (mü-iyú or shul-iyú), but we have to
bear in mind that for the Bertha the stomach is very
similar to the heart and the brain in our own percep-
tion of the body. The door is the mouth, ndii (which
also means “Bertha language”: Bender 1989: 271)*
The poles that flank the door are the eyes, (shul)
are, a term which also means “face.” The rest of
the poles that support the house are the feet (shul)
huu (or khu\ Andersen 1995: 50), although the inner
poles are called shiba (which also means “wings’ )•
Finally, the rear is the back: (shul) gundi.8 Fuf'
thermore, as with the Batammaliba house (Preston
8 Lists of Bertha vocabulary, containing these words and vart'
ants, can be found in Cerulli (1947), Triulzi et al. (1976), al1
Bender (1989).
Anthropos 101.20^
Order in a Disordered World
393
Fig.
10: The organization of the space around a potter’s house. Obora (Menge wereda).
Blier 1987), we can say that Bertha houses perform
Physiological functions: they eat when they receive
foundational sacrifices and blood is spilled at the
roouth/door; they urinate through a hole (darawa)',
ar>d they can fall ill with evil spirits. The spatial
Metaphor of the body, that has been attested all
°ver the region, has to be related with the wider
symbolic organization of house space. The moral
^tributes assigned to indoor and outdoor space
among the Bertha, as we will see, derive from
body orientation, the senses, and the physical
Processes, a phenomenon recorded among many
groups that has been masterfully described for the
^aguru by Beidelman (1991; 459).
Irrespective of the specific model, every house
Can be divided into two main areas: the front and
the back (Fig. 8, Fig. 9). A similar distinction might
be found among other neighboring groups, such
as the Uduk, whose houses face the rest of the
c°mmunity and align their back to the bushland
^ames 1979: 15). In the Bertha house, the front
J_s where the eyes (are) and mouth (ndii) of the
a°me are located and all the space immediately in
^°nt of the hut is named handurj are or handu ndu.
riulzi et al. (1976) recorded [tha]-shul-ndu for the
r°ntal space (house’s mouth). Both eyes and mouth
°ccupy a frontal position in the human body and,
Moreover, they are - along with the ears - the
Jhain organs for communication and socialization.
he eyes, in particular, are related to wisdom and
^h°Wledge: are p’adiya (lit. “eye-strong”) means
Wisdom” or “wise” (cf. Bender 1989: 304).
Anthr,
■opos 101.2006
Therefore, it is in the front of the house where
most activities are carried out: it is there where peo-
ple (especially women) gather to have a talk, chil-
dren play, men make mats and baskets and carve
wood, women produce pottery (Fig. 10), and it is
the locale where our interviews took place. When
there is amaha to build a hut or rethatch a roof,
people gather in front of the house to drink and take
food. The handui) are is also where most things
are stored or simply left leaning on the wall; dry-
ing pots, mats, baskets, calabashes, stools, animals.
The majority of the activities, artefacts, and com-
pound buildings are within eyesight from the door
of the main living house. Besides, it is the cleanest
space of the village, since maintenance activities
(sweeping) are carried out there at least twice a day.
From a religious point of view, the front is where
people pray and a series of traditional sacrifices
occur. For example, when a couple gets married,
they have to stay closed in a house for a week.
Food and drink are brought from outside. After this
period, a goat is sacrificed in front of the house
and husband and wife have to jump over the dead
animal seven times - again, the number has ritual
relevance.9 This rite - called with the Arabic word
9 The sacred stone of Bela Shangul, the most important re-
ligious locale for the Bertha, had to be circumambulated
seven times counterclockwise by the kings in investiture
rites for the fertility and prosperity of the whole land and
people (Seligman and Seligman 1932: 428 f.). Seven grains
of coffee are burnt in certain healing ceremonies by the geri.
After somebody dies, there are seven days of mourning.
394
Alfredo Gonzàlez-Ruibal
karama (meaning “religious offering”) - may take
place after they arrive to the husband’s village and
finish the construction of their new house. This is
necessary to avoid evil spirits, propitiate a happy
married life, and have prosperity. The front of the
hut is smeared with the blood of a goat or two
chickens that are slaughtered to celebrate the inau-
guration of a new home, a custom also described
among the Gumuz. Rainmaking rites take place in
front of the ritual specialist’s house (pen): a branch
of wera (an aromatic tree) is stuck into the ground
and water from the river is spilled around it, while
the pen asks God to give rain to the village.
The rear space around the house is called shul
gundi, the house’s back. No activities take place
here and, therefore, this space is usually empty of
people and artefacts. Only animals are sometimes
seen sleeping in the shadow provided by the roof.
In the place diametrically opposed to the door a
pit (dabulsi or bule soko) is dug out to throw the
rubbish away - the earth extracted from the pit is
used for plastering the hut’s wall. The place for
urinating and defecating (sometimes a kind of la-
trines) is also located behind the residence. Mean-
ingfully, the back space is where miscarried fetuses,
newborns, and babies less than three months old
are buried (other ages were given - one year, one
month, but most people seem to agree on three
months). Tombs are located very close to the house
wall. Children older than that are given burial in the
cemetery, located in the forest. Babies’ tombs are
formally very similar to those of adult people: an
oval-shaped earth tumulus, delimited with stones.
The name (dirsha) is the same in both cases, it also
applies to the cemetery and it means “sleeping”
as well. Death is a very polluting thing. Children
and adults’ clothes have to be thoroughly washed
in the river after their owners’ death and cemeter-
ies are located considerably far away from the vil-
lages (around one kilometer). Resemblances can be
found among other borderland Nilo-Saharan peo-
ples: the Ingessana, for example, bury their chil-
dren beneath the kitchen’s floor (Jfdrej 1995: 100),
at the back of the hut, and the Uduk place tombs
behind the house, the space in front of the door
being used to bury the placenta after giving birth
(James 1988a: 217). The Bertha think that babies
have to be buried very close to the house because
they belong to the inside of the home, not to the
outside (as adults do). Going outside would made
them easy prey of evil spirits. The same is thought
of menstruating women: they also belong to the
inside and cannot go out of the house if they do
not want to suffer the attack of evil. Indoors, then,
is the space of the weak, of those more liable to
pollution, and the house is regarded as a stronghold
against evil. The interior of the house (the stomach)
is, at the same time, a weak space, one that has to be
protected against violence, evil, and disease. This
is probably one of the reasons why visitors have to
leave their spears at the door before entering the
house. Some rites related to the exorcism of the
evil spirits that can inhabit a home are celebrated
in the back of the hut: two chicken or a goat are
slaughtered when an evil-infested house is going
to be rethatched or destroyed. Also, when a new
roof is built, the thatch from the old roof is burnt at
the back of the house, because it is dirty, and it is
thought that it can pass on diseases.
It is therefore clear that the front space is related
to life, cleanliness, work, and socialization. The
back space, on the contrary, is where those indi-
viduals who have not been socialized are buried,
where no activities take place, where rubbish is
thrown away; an area linked to death, disease, and
dirt - corroborating Douglas’ statement that “where
there is dirt, there is system” (2002: 44). It is in-
teresting to note the widespread link existing be-
tween death and dirt in many sub-Saharan societies
(e.g., Moore 1986: 102f.). The symbolic organiza-
tion that has been delineated is also constructed
indoors - a space called thantha in Bertha (Fig. 11)»
as opposed to the outside spaces of the shul gundi
and the handurj are.
The front part of the house is where people
sleep, guests are received, and tea, coffee, and sauce
(,kharar)) are prepared in one of the two mu-iyu
(hearths) the house has. Guests are entertained near
the entrance, usually to the left, while the right is
ordinarily reserved for sleeping (only for children
in the case of the concentric house). These different
activity areas do not have specific names: thus, the
sleeping area is called aij-dirsh-ld10 (place [fori
sleeping), and the same can be applied to the space
were food or sauce is prepared (aq-le-tuk’a, in the
back, and arj-le-khararj, in the front, respectively)-
It is a remarkable fact that the Bertha have the same
name for time and place: thus, ag-dirsh-ld may he
translated as “the place for sleeping,” but also as
“the time of sleeping.” Each activity has its place
and simultaneously its specific time.
The back part is where food, basically p°r'
ridge (tuk’a), is cooked and beer (has’a) brewen
(Fig. 12). This back part is most often physically
separated. In the case of the central yard model, the
kitchen occupies a completely different building’
in the concentric house model, the cooking area
10 The suffix -Id is used in Bertha when there is no specific
subject (Andersen 1995; 46).
2006
Anthropos 101-
Order in a Disordered World
395
Fig. 11: The interior of a kitchen
in a central yard house. Note
the store platform and the raised
mud hearth to the wall (simi-
lar to those described by Ernst
klamo). Surroundings of Gizen
(Gizen weredd).
|s located in the outer ring, diametrically opposed
0 the entrance and concealed by the central struc-
rei in the katiya house, finally, the back is clearly
^Parated by a partition wall of bamboo and mud
ath'a). When asked about the need of a katiya,
eopie say that they do not want strangers to see
Women preparing porridge. Only the women
£ ^he house are allowed in the space behind the
tar^a‘ r^le back ^s’ again. a dirty space: fermen-
l0n (of food and beer) takes place here and the
majority of the pots are stored and used in this area.
It is worth noting that the process of fermentation
- and the pottery in which it occurs - is symboli-
cally related to death and ancestralization in some
African cultures (David 1992: 193). Interestingly,
among the neighbouring Komo, the tradition ex-
isted of burying the entrails of a deceased person
beneath the beer pots, at the back of the house
(James 1988a: 361), while the rest of the body was
deposited on the platform (the Bertha shetab) over
Amh
lroPos 101.2006
396
Alfredo Gonzàlez-Ruibal
Fig. 13: Medicines, charms, and
magical objects behind the in-
ner ring of Audun Harms’ house
(Gundul, Asosa).
the hearth, to be slowly dried by the smoke. Mean-
ingfully, raw food (as opposed to fermented food) is
not stored in the back space, but in the front space,
over the shetab, or it is hanged on the walls.
The back of the house, among the Bertha, is pol-
luted due to other reasons: There is a hole (darawa)
in the rear that connects the interior and the outside.
When women are menstruating, they are confined
indoors and they must urinate in the darawa and
wash in the same place for seven days after men-
struation, to avoid polluting the house and falling
ill. Cooking is forbidden for them. After sexual in-
tercourse, the couple must wash their sexual organs
with water in the darawa hole, too. Sexual activi-
ties, then, put the house at risk of pollution: dirti-
ness has to be expelled. Also, sex is a risky activity,
inconceivable outside the protection of the house -
sex in the forest is equated to prostitution. Recently
married couples are especially prone to suffer the
pollution derived from sex, that is why they are kept
closed inside their new home for seven days after
arriving at their village. In the huts belonging to
the doctor-diviner (rjeri) Audun Hamis in Gundul
(Asosa), charms and medicines were prepared and
stored at the back of the buildings (Fig. 13). One of
his houses, now abandoned, had a sort of containers
moulded on the mud of the wall, where medicines
were made (Fig. 14). When asked about where is
the place where women usually give birth, people
say that can be anywhere. In fact, women crawl and
move all over the place, inside and outside, until
Fig. 14: Place to prepare medicines at the back of Audun Hamis
secondary hut.
they finally bear a child. This might be surprising’
since giving birth might be considered a dirty, pol'
luting activity, in which blood and other physiolog'
ical materials are involved. If childbearing is no1
spatially constrained, as all other activities are, h
might be explained for its mixed character, being at
the same time related to dirt, blood, and life.
As opposed to the back part of the house, the
front is accessible and open to strangers and neigh'
hours, who sit on mats or anqareb near the door an°
take tea or coffee, made on the front hearth. In th6
concentric house model, it is in the front part whefe
children sleep. In some villages, at least in the es'
101.2006
Anthropos
Order in a Disordered World
397
Fig. 15: Breasts moulded on a wall in Dul Shetale (Kurmuk
Sereda).
carpment area (Asosa, Kurmuk), in houses where
a young woman is going to get married, women’s
breasts are moulded on the plaster of the wall, near
the entrance, in order to favour a propitious mar-
riage and to celebrate fertility (Fig. 15).
Due to this open character of the front space,
and because it is there where the house’s mouth
18 located, it is a dangerous area, a margin and an
°rifice through which evil spirits and diseases can
Seize the home (Douglas 2002: 150). To avoid that,
People protect the entrance with different charms
and amulets: feathers, corn, egg shells, and papers
^ith Koranic verses. The latter are prepared by a
ritual specialist called/e/d, who, as in other Muslim
countries (fakT,fiki), is anyone known for piety and
knowledge of the Koran (McHugh 1994; 17). The
Parallelism between humans and houses is made
e*plicit by the fact that people protect their bod-
les by tying leather sheaths (heyab) with similar
Koranic charms around their necks or forearms.
J?drej (2004: 724) notes among the Ingessana a
Slmilar anxiety “structured in the spatial terms of
*be persistent invasion of their territory, localities,
anb homesteads, and even their bodies, by ma-
ljgnant external agencies which must be repeat-
identified, extracted, and driven off.” Simi-
ariy, evil spirits haunt Bertha bodies and houses
that they have to be protected or, once illness
as made prey of the body or the house, they have
0 be cured by extracting the evil. All apotropaic
evices are situated in the frontal area of the house
andug are), including those that protect against
^ e eyil spirit of thunder (ro). To avoid evil eye, the
ertha thrust a long and thin bamboo pole into the
§r°und near the house or in the house’s roof and
Crc»Wn it with a root, a broken jebena (coffee pot),
°r calabash (abadi). Specifically against thunders
Anth;
roPos 101.2006
are horns or skulls of buffalos and other animals,
preferably wild animals (but also sheep, horses)
(Fig. 16). Ernst Marno wrote that he saw human
skulls hanging on the roofs of Bertha houses.11
People fear that a bad qeri may cast a thunder upon
their house. It is not necessary to have the help of
a rjeri to prepare these apotropaic devices: anybody
can make a protective standard. They can be also
placed in granaries and cultivated fields, to protect
the crop. Evil spirits are also frightened by throw-
ing millet and corn grains against the walls of the
house after the harvest. Besides providing protec-
tion, it also brings prosperity to the home.
Fig. 16: A horn against the spirit of thunder (ro). Abramo (Asosa
weredd).
Despite all precautions, a house, as a human
body, can fall ill with an ancestral evil spirit (shu-
man). These spirits are inherited and one can only
cast them off with the help of a geri, who sees them
in dreams and is then able to throw them out. The
Ingessana, too, call their doctor-diviners (kai) to
heal an evil-possessed homestead (J§drej 1995: 52).
11 “Es ist Sitte der Bertat, die Schädel von Verbrechern oder
erschlagenen Feinden auf Bäumen oder Tukulspitzen auf-
zustecken, welche Sitte auch von Russegger erwähnt wird”
(Mamo 1874: 62).
398
Alfredo Gonzàlez-Ruibal
One of the methods a ijeri has to heal a home is
to remove the evil spirit and to throw it to another
place, where it will be condemned to reside. The
new abode may be a tree, another house, or a gra-
nary. Ramadan Talow, the ijeri from Menge, told
us that he had trapped a shuman in a granary close
to his house in Keshaf, while in Menge another
shuman was compelled to reside in a big old tree
in the outskirts of the settlement and one more in
a house where some old women lived. No one else
was allowed inside this hut, as it was thought that
anybody, apart from those old women, would die
if she or he tried to get into the house - which
is always well-closed. Fires have to be lit for the
shuman and water must be brought in calabashes
in order to appease them and keep them at bay.
Another way of getting the spirits out of the house
involves the use of a riverine tree called s’aba. The
ijeri dips a branch of 5 ’aha in water and then shakes
the branch at the hut for an hour at sunrise. If the rit-
ual has no effect, he brings a goat inside the house,
orders the oldest man in the house to cut a piece
from both of the goat’s ears, and drives the animal
out. The pieces of ear are thrown to the ground and
later swept outside the house. In the same fashion,
bodies are cured by extracting the evil inside: one
of the methods involves the use of a horn (usually
from a buffalo) that is applied to the part of the body
that is sick. The doctor-diviner sucks through the
horn and then cuts the lump away, freeing the evil
spirit.
A very dangerous moment for the health of the
house and that of its inhabitants is the replacing of
the roof. When the roof is dismantled, the outside
and the inside are perilously mixed; the interior of
the house, the stomach (mu-iyu), is a fragile area, as
the human stomach is. Many diseases are thought
to affect the stomach, among them one caused by a
particular shuman: the obe. The presence of the ijeri
is needed to scare the evil spirits away. Two chicken
or a goat must be sacrificed behind the house.
This organization of the Bertha house and the
relevance of the front/back dichotomy and its re-
lated meanings may be considered a common sense
division, but other ethnographic examples prove
that wrong: in the Kabyle house, for example, the
front wall of the house is that of the darkness, sleep,
and death (Bourdieu 1970: 740f.), just the opposite
of the Bertha, Gumuz, or Uduk. In other cases, the
division between up/down, north/south, or right/left
is more important than front and back.12 The con-
cern with this dichotomy seems to be widespread
12 E.g., Cunningham 1973; Feeley-Hamik 1980; Donley-Reid
1990.
among the borderland Nilo-Saharans. The Gumuz
have two opposing doors with different meanings
in their houses: the back one is used for pollut-
ing activities, such as bringing meat for cooking
(Geremew 2005), while the front one is reserved
for elders and guests. The Kwama divide the space
in two halves (front: tazini it’a and back: tat gold),
similar to those of the Bertha hut; and the Uduk,
as it has been pointed out, distinguish between the
face (towards the village) and the back (towards
the wild) in their homes. The necessity of clearly
demarcating the front and the back is taken beyond
the house: Bertha tombs, which are oval in shape,
always have two stelae, one at the front and one at
the back - but only one of them receives incense
offerings.
As opposed to other African traditions, the gen-
dered division of the domestic space does not seem
to play a paramount role among the Bertha. Male
and female spaces inside the house are not as well-
marked as in other groups. The division affects par-
ents and children (a fact also attested among the
Kwama), dwellers and guests (a division related
with the dichotomy outside/inside), and, finally,
men and women. The fact that women are more
strongly related to the back of the house, where
food and beer processing takes place, fits well with
the Bertha division between front and back. Women
are more prone to pollution and, therefore, they are
symbolically linked to the dark, dirty rear. How-
ever, women do occupy all other parts of the house
- men, on the contrary, rarely enter the space be-
yond the katiya or behind the inner ring. It is also
true that the guest house is only for men: no women
can go in and take coffee and chat with men, no
matter if they are close kin. However, this is prob-
ably a recent Islamic-influenced custom, as shown
by the fact that the Bertha almost always employ
the Arabic name (khalwa). And even in that case, it
is not properly speaking a gendered division of the
house (shuli) but a specific building within the com'
pound, which does not appear in every homestead
(small compounds usually lack this hut). Similarly,
the orientation of the house does not seem to play a
relevant role. In some villages (Gundul in Asosa,
Obora in Menge), houses are said to be oriented
towards the north or south, never to the east or west-
Nonetheless, while some people attribute this ruR
to the Koran, others attribute it to the direction of
the wind. Finally, in many villages, houses seetn
to be randomly oriented and people deny any rele'
vance to orientation.
Ordering of the domestic space is not an ah'
stract task that can be easily verbalized as such-
The Bertha do not rationalize the organization ol
Anthropos 101.2006
Order in a Disordered World
399
Fig. 17: Distribution of pottery (black marks) in different Bertha houses (katiya and concentric houses). There is a substantially
greater number of pots in rural areas than in peri-urban areas, and spatial order is also more rigid in the countryside than in towns.
'he space as it has been done here. But at the
sarne time, the dichotomy front/back that has been
described is not a product of the anthropologist’s
fliind. It is something that works in practice: it is
a generative spatial praxis that orders the Bertha
^orld and makes sense of it. Bourdieu (1990: 96)
Says that “The Kabyle woman setting up her loom
ls not performing an act of cosmogony; she is sim-
ply setting up her loom to weave cloth intended
to serve a technical function. It so happens that,
§Wen the symbolic equipment available to her for
Practically thinking her own practice - in particular
her language, which constantly refers her back to
'he logic of ploughing - she can only think what she
doing in the enchanted, that is to say, mystified,
'°rrn that spiritualism, thirsty for eternal mysteries,
Pnds so enchanting.” Equally, a Bertha woman is
n°t thinking that she is performing an activity struc-
turally related to death and dirt when she is brewing
eer or porridge at the back of the house. Bertha
0rnestic space is organized according to a practi-
Cal logic “able to organize all thoughts, perceptions
ar,d actions by means of a few generative princi-
P es, which are closely interrelated and constitute
a Practically integrated whole,” whose whole econ-
°my is “based on the principle of the economy of
Anthr
logic” (Bourdieu 1990: 86). This practical character
of the symbolic system is especially obvious when
it comes to the order of things inside the house.
As we have seen, the Bertha home is not charac-
terized by many physical divisions, especially the
katiya model. However, irrespective of the presence
or absence of partition walls, objects appear time
and again in the same locations, because “they have
to be there,” as the Bertha put it. The awar for
storing beer leans against the back of the house,
the beds are located near the entrance, the hearth
for porridge is hidden at the back, and clothes hang
on the front (Fig. 17). Despite the impression of
disorder and mess that houses and their environ-
ments convey when one gets inside, and despite
the diversity of indoor solutions that conceal the
structure, things are always carefully distributed in
space according to an underlying far-reaching logic
that confers each being (dead or alive, human or
thing) a place in the world.
Concluding Remarks
The fact that all houses in Benishangul, despite
their variability, are ruled by similar symbolic prin-
'opos 101.2006
400
Alfredo González-Ruibal
ciples shows the flexibility of Bertha material cul-
ture and architecture in particular. This flexibility
and adaptability is matched by other cultural el-
ements as in the neighboring borderland groups.
The ability that Gumuz and Uduk show, for exam-
ple, to absorb strangers in their own communities
(James 1988b: 138) and that of the Bertha them-
selves, as shown by their miscegenation with Arab
traders, may be equated to a similar capacity to
assimilate different material traditions and reshape
them to their own cultural praxis. Thus, the katiya
house was probably adopted by the Bertha after
their arrival in Ethiopia, while the concentric model
was most likely brought from Sudan. However, this
ability goes parallel to an attitude of resistance and
cultural conservatism, equally derived from the tur-
bulent conditions of the Sudanese-Ethiopian bor-
derland. Maintaining the order of domestic space is
fundamental for the reproduction and preservation
of the social order, as shown by the repetition of the
same basic spatial principles that govern movement
and activities all over Benishangul, irrespective of
the specific house or compound model in which
one dwells. Locality, as Apparudai (1996: 179) has
pointed out, is something that, far from given, must
be maintained carefully against various kinds of
odds. This is especially true in places as dynamic,
mutable, and troubled as the borderlands between
states. From this point of view, the Bertha house is
a nice example of those “technolog[ies] of local-
ization” (Appadurai 1996: 180) that help to resist
social désintégration.
The Bertha have a strong concern with order,
maybe because of a long historic experience of dis-
order and political instability. The best metaphor
of this concern is the Bela Shangul, the sacred
stone of Shangul, a polished sphere that reposes
in amazing balance on top of a small pillar, in a
remote mountain around Menge. The fall of this
sphere - the breaking of its fragile equilibrium - is
thought to bring all kind of calamities and disgraces
to the Bertha (Triulzi 1981b). A similar necessity of
keeping order is expressed in the apotropaic devices
that guard the entrance to the Bertha houses (the
inside and the outside must not be mixed, the mix-
ture leading to illness and death) and in the clear
distinction between front and back. Spatial order,
thus, may be considered a way of maintaining lo-
cality, achieving and perpetuating cultural coher-
ence and symbolically resisting troubling situations
(slave trade and invasions until the 1930s, war and
expropriation in the 1970s and 1990s). All that can
be attained through a very simple and flexible - and
therefore effective - system. Bertha concern with
order in the domestic space, therefore, would be
reflecting a wider concern with order in a world
continuously threatened by chaos.
I am very grateful to all the inhabitants of Benishangul
who decisively contributed to this research, and particu-
larly to the people of Gundul, Obora, and Fulederu, and
Ramadan Talow for generously sharing his knowledge.
I am indebted to Geremew Feyissa, Dawit Tibebu, and
Geremew Yenesew for their cleverness and patience as
translators. I also want to thank Víctor Fernández Mar-
tínez, who allowed me to take part in his archaeolog-
ical project as an ethnoarchaeologist. This article has
benefited a lot from our conversations. I am grateful
to William Rathje for reading and correcting the whole
manuscript and to Andreas Neudorf for many interesting
insights into the Bertha culture. Fieldwork was funded
by the Spanish Ministry of Culture (Dirección General
de Bellas Artes) and the Universidad Complutense de
Madrid.
References Cited
Abdussamad, H. Ahmad
2001 Bela-Shangul. The Frontier in History, 1897-1938. (3rd
East Africa History Workshop, Addis Ababa, 29th-31st
October 2001.) Addis Ababa.
Andersen, Torben
1995 Absolutive and Nominative in Berta. In: R. Nicolai' and
F. Rottland (eds.), Actes du Cinquième Colloque de
Linguistique Nilo-Saharienne, Nice, 24-29 août 1992;
pp. 39-69. Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag. (NISA, 10)
Appadurai, Arjun
1996 Modernity at Large. Cultural Dimensions of Globaliza-
tion. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. (Pub-
lic Worlds, 1)
Beidelman, Thomas O.
1991 Containing Time. Rites of Passage and Moral Space or
Bachelard among the Kaguru, 1957-1966. AnthropoS
86: 443-461.
Bender, Marvin Lionel
1989 Berta Lexikon. In: M. L. Bender (ed.), Topics in Nü°'
Saharan Linguistics; pp. 271-304. Hamburg: Helmut
Buske.
1994 Comparative Komuz Grammar. Afrika und Übersee 77-
31-54.
Bourdieu, Pierre
1970 La Maison kabyle ou le monde renversé. In : J. Pouill011
et P. Maranda (éds.), Échanges et communications. Me'
langes offerts à Claude Lévi-Strauss à l’occasion de son
60ème anniversaire. Tome 2 ; pp. 739-758. The Hague •
Mouton.
1990 The Logic of Practice. Stanford: Stanford University
Press.
Butt, Audrey
1952 The Nilotes of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan and Uganda-
London: International African Institute. (Ethnograph10
Survey of Africa, East-Central Africa, 4)
Anthropos 101.2006
Order in a Disordered World
401
Cailliaud, Frédéric
1826-27 Voyage à Méroé, au Fleuve Blanc, au-delà de Fâzoql
dans le midi du royaume de Sennâr, à Syouah et dans
cinq autres oasis ; fait dans les années 1819, 1820, 1821
et 1822 par M. Frédéric Cailliaud de Nantes. 4 Vols.
Paris : Imprimerie Royale.
Cerulli, Ernesta
1947 Three Berta Dialects in Western Ethiopia. Africa 17:
157-169.
Cunningham, Clark E.
1973 Order in the Atoni Flouse. In: R. Needham (ed.),
Right and Left. Essays on Dual Symbolic Classification;
pp. 204-238. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
David, Nicholas
1992 The Archaeology of Ideology. Mortuary Practices in the
Central Mandara Flighlands, Northern Cameroon. In: J.
Sterner and N. David (eds.), An African Commitment.
Papers in Flonour of Peter Lewis Shinnie; pp. 181-210.
Calgary: University of Calgary Press.
Davies, H. R. J.
I960 Some Tribes of the Ethiopian Borderland between the
Blue Nile and Sobat Rivers. Sudan Notes and Records
41: 21-34.
Donley-Reid, Linda W.
1990 A Structuring Structure. The Swahili House. In; S. Kent
(ed.), Domestic Architecture and the Use of Space. An
Interdisciplinary Cross-Cultural Study; pp. 114-126.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Douglas, Mary
2002 Purity and Danger. An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution
and Taboo. (With a New Preface by the Author.) London:
Routledge. [1966]
Kvans-Pritchard, Edward Evan
' 932 Ethnological Observations in Dar Fung. Sudan Notes
and Records 15: 1-61.
Fabian, Johannes
1983 Time and the Other. How Anthropology Makes Its Ob-
ject. New York: Columbia University Press.
Feeley-Harnik, Gillian
1980 The Sakalava House (Madagascar). Anthropos 75: 559-
585.
^rixandez Martínez, Víctor M.
¿004 Prospección arqueológica y etnoarqueológica en el Nilo
Azul (Sudán y Etiopía). Bienes Culturales. Revista del
Instituto del Patrimonio Histórico Español 2: 160-168.
F^femew Feyissa
905 El valor de la convivencia en la sociedad tradicional
Gumuz, Etiopía occidental. Madrid. [Unpublished Post-
graduate Paper; Complutense University Madrid, Facul-
tad de Ciencias Políticas y Sociología]
j ess¡ Pasha, Romolo
°92 Seven Years in the Soudan, Being a Record of Explo-
rations, Adventures, and Campaigns against the Arab
Slave Hunters. London: Sampson Low, Marston, and Co.
F^nzález-Ruibal, Alfredo
95 Etnoarqueología de la cerámica en Etiopía. Trabajos de
Prehistoria 62/2: 1-25.
^°ttzález-Ruibal, Alfredo, and Víctor M. Fernández Martí-
nez
2003 House Ethnoarchaeology in Ethiopia. Elements for the
^nthr
Study of Domestic Space in Benishangul (West Ethio-
pia). In: X. M. Ayán Vila, R. Blanco Rotea, and P. Ma-
ñana Borrazás (eds.), Archaeotecture. Archaeology of
Architecture; pp. 83-97. Oxford: Archaeopress. (BAR,
International Series, 1175)
Grottanelli, Vinigi L.
1940 Missione Etnográfica nel Uollega Occidentale. Vol. 1:
I Mao. Roma: Reale Accademia dTtalia. (Reale Ac-
cademia dTtalia, Centro Studi per FAfrica Oriéntale
Italiana, 5)
1948 I Pre-Niloti. Un’Arcaica Provincia Cultúrale in Africa.
Annali Lateranensi 12: 281-326.
Hahn, Hans Peter
2000 Raumkonzepte bei den Kassena (Burkina Faso). Anthro-
pos 95: 129-148.
James, Wendy
1979 ’Kwanim Pa. The Making of the Uduk People. An
Ethnographic Study of Survival in the Sudan-Erthiopian
Borderlands. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
1988a The Listening Ebony. Moral Knowledge, Religion, and
Power among the Uduk of Sudan. Oxford: Clarendon
Press.
1988b Perceptions from an African Slaving Frontier. In: L. J.
Archer (ed.), Slavery and Other Forms of Unfree Labour;
pp. 130-141. London: Routledge.
2002 No Place to Hide. Flag Waving on the Western Fron-
tier. In: W. James, D. L. Donham, E. Kurimoto, and A.
Triulzi (eds.), Remapping Ethiopia. Socialism & After;
pp. 259-275. Oxford; James Currey.
James, Wendy, Gerd Baumann, and Douglas H. Johnson
(eds.)
1996 Juan Maria Schuver’s Travels in North East Africa,
1880-1883. London: The Hakluyt Society. (The Hak-
luyt Society; Second Series, 184)
Jfdrej, M. Charles
1995 Ingessana. The Religious Institutions of a People of the
Sudan-Ethiopia Boderland. Leiden: E. J. Brill. (Studies
of Religion in Africa, 13)
2004 The Southern Funj of the Sudan as a Frontier Society,
1820-1980. Comparative Studies in Society and History
46: 709-729.
Kent, Susan
1990 A Cross-Cultural Study of Segmentation, Architecture,
and the Use of Space. In: S. Kent (ed.), Domestic Ar-
chitecture and the Use of Space. An Interdisciplinary
Cross-Cultural Study; pp. 127-152. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press.
McHugh, Neil
1994 Holymen of the Blue Nile. The Making of an Arab-
Islamic Community in the Nilotic Sudan, 1500-1850.
Evanston: Northwestern University Press.
Marno, Ernst
1874 Reisen im Gebiete des blauen und weissen Nil, im egyp-
tischen Sudan und den angrenzenden Negerlándem, in
den Jahren 1869 bis 1873. Wien: C. Gerald’s Sohn.
Moore, Henrietta L.
1986 Space, Text, and Gender. An Anthropological Study of
the Marakwet of Kenya. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.
Mostyn, J. P.
1921 Some Notes on Burun Customs and Beliefs. Sudan Notes
and Records 4: 209-211.
'opos 101.2006
402
Alfredo González-Ruibal
Preston Blier, Susan
1987 The Anatomy of Architecture. Ontology and Metaphor
in Batammaliba Architectural Expression. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
SAD (Sudan Archive of Durham)
1880-1955 Sudan Archive of Durham. Durham; University of
Durham.
Seligman, Charles G., and Brenda Z. Seligman
1932 Pagan Tribes of the Nilotic Sudan. London: George
Routledge and Sons.
Triulzi, Alessandro
1981a Myths and Rituals of the Ethiopian Bertha. In; M. L.
Bender (ed.), Peoples and Cultures of the Ethio-Sudan
Borderlands; pp. 179-214. East Lansing: African Stud-
ies Center, Michigan State University. (Michigan State
University; Committee on Northeast African Stud-
ies, 10)
1981b Salt, Gold, and Legitimacy. Prelude to the History of a
No-Man’s Land - Bela Shangul, Wallagga, Ethiopia (ca.
1800-1898). Naples: Istituto Universitario Orientale.
Triulzi, Alessandro, Ateib Dafallah, and Marvin Lionel Ben-
der
1976 Some Notes in the Ethiopian Berta and Their Language.
Annali dell’Istituto Orientale dì Napoli 36; 1-23.
Wedderburn-Maxwell, M. G.
1936 The Maban of Southern Fung. Sudan Notes and Records
19: 179-183.
Whitehead, G. О.
1934 Italian Travellers in the Berta Country. Sudan Notes and
Records 17: 217-227.
Anthropos 101.2006
Anthropos
101.2006: 403-412
Colonial Response to Population Depletion
in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936
Osumaka Likaka
Abstract. - This article demonstrates that even when the desire
f°r quick economic returns was at the zenith, the administra-
ron, companies, and missions took initiatives to reduce the de-
struction of population, “for the sake of agriculture and mines.”
^hile the colonial administration yearned to alter household
structure, private companies pursued the policy of high child-
births. In contrast to colonial government officials and private
c°mpanies’ administrators, Catholic missionaries endeavored to
change local ideologies, which underpinned biological repro-
duction, and institutions, which in their understanding created
sexual imbalance and low fertility. In different but complemen-
tary ways, they sought to eradicate diseases and minimize the
negative effects of migrations, porterage, and recruitments on
lbe reproductive capacity of local communities. [Congo, de-
mography, colonial population policies, economy, mining, labor
migrations, women]
Osumaka Likaka, Ph. D. (University of Minnesota, 1991); As-
ocíate Professor of History at Wayne State University, Detroit.
"Publications include: “Colonisation et construction d’identité.
administration beige et l’identité Mbole, 1910-1960” (Revue
rangaise d’Histoire d’Outre-mer 1998); “The Mbole conseil
. chefs et notables and the Politics of Negotiations, 1910—
£ b0” (Anthropos 1997); “Forced Cotton Cultivation and Social
°ntrol in the Belgian Congo” (In: A. Isaacman and R. Roberts
®ds.], Cotton, Colonialism, and Social History in Sub-Saharan
friea. Portsmouth 1995); “Rural Protest. The Mbole against
e Belgian Rule, 1897 -1959” (International Journal of African
mtorical Studies 1994). - See also References Cited.
^troduction
We have to convince ourselves that an economy
based on agriculture has nothing but land and
hands (AA 1957).
Th’
118 statement shows that to colonial officials and
c°hipany managers, the death of an African repre-
sented a loss of a potential worker and of a com-
modity producer. In an unpublished text entitled
“Working for the Tax Man Makes People Thin-
ner. Economy and Demography in Early Congo,
ca. 1890-1936,” I examined the interactions be-
tween economic activities and demographic situa-
tions. I showed that colonialism created environ-
ments that affected negatively the principal com-
ponents of demography. This article shows that
even when the desire for quick economic returns
was at the zenith, the administration, companies,
and missions took initiatives to reduce the destruc-
tion of population “for the sake of agriculture and
mines” (Leplae 1914; 17). Although they differed
in their ideologies and emphasis, the colonial ad-
ministration, missions, and companies interacted
when looking for solutions to population depletion.
While the colonial administration yearned to alter
household structure and transform individual sex-
ual behavior to increase fertility, private companies
pursued the policy of high childbirths by distribut-
ing material incentives and fighting prostitution in
their labor camps. In contrast to colonial govern-
ment officials and private companies’ administra-
tors, Catholic missionaries endeavored to change
local ideologies, which underpinned biological re-
production, and institutions, which they believed
created sexual imbalance and low fertility. In differ-
ent but often complementary ways, they all sought
to eradicate diseases and minimize the negative ef-
fects of migrations, porterage, and recruitments to
restore the reproductive capacity of local commu-
nities.
404
Osumaka Likaka
Colonial Administration and Population
Policies
It is an obligation for our personnel to preserve
native populations (AA 1920).
A consensus emerged in the 1920s among colo-
nial officials that the Congo had become a depop-
ulated colony. Most territorial administrators and
government agronomists, who implemented gov-
ernment policies and who were the most concerned
with population decline, then shared the conclusion
drawn in 1906 by most reports that the African
population was dying out (Cattier 1906: 346).
Motivated by political and economic reasons,
the taking of censuses was among the first re-
sponses of the colonial government to deal with
the scarcity and decline of populations. It started
in 1891 when a decree required the district com-
missioner to report when organizing existing lin-
eages into chiefdoms, not only their name and ge-
ographic location but also the number of houses,
men, women, and children. Although colonial offi-
cials implemented the legislation only in the com-
munities located near state posts, these censuses
definitely allowed the calculation of the ratios of
men to women, and of women to children. Limited
and imperfect, these censuses nevertheless gave
colonial officials glimpses into the state of the re-
productive capacity of Congolese villages.
Under the pressure of the Congo Reform Asso-
ciation and of the Commission of Inquiry, which
looked at the atrocities of rubber wars, the legisla-
tion of 1906 on chefferies continued these efforts.
In addition to counting men, women, and children,
the decree compelled African chiefs to inform the
district commissioner of epidemics in their chef-
feries, and appointed African messengers to work
with these local leaders to obtain in timely fashion
vital information on dysentery, meningitis, cholera,
and smallpox, epidemics that killed a great deal of
people every time they stroke a region. Neverthe-
less, the ravages caused by smallpox in Mahagi in
1920 and by meningitis in Ceti in 1925 and 1928
show that despite the colonial government efforts,
effective control of epidemics to protect village
communities was still elusive (AA 1927, 1928a,
1929a).
Colonial officials received two additional legal
means when the government enacted two legisla-
tions in 1910 and 1917 to cope with population
issues. The primary objectives of the colonial gov-
ernment were to tighten control over Africans and
facilitate the taking of censuses, the collection of
taxes, the recruitment of workers, and the manda-
tory production of cash crops. Nevertheless, the two
legislations dealt with important aspects of popu-
lations. The 1910 legislation required Africans to
carry a pass card, which allowed colonial officials
to monitor population movements. It also estab-
lished “model villages” in healthy locations, which
were preferably the seats of chiefdoms. Further-
more, the colonial administration designed the pro-
gram of “model village” to reverse the decline of
populations in two ways. First, it aimed at chang-
ing diets by encouraging mixed economy and in-
troducing fruit trees, namely avocado, orange, pa-
paya, lime, guava, and pineapple. Although the
consumption of these fruits varied from one group
to another, they provided vitamins A and C where
Africans included them into their diets (Janzen
1978: 13, 31). Second, it sought to improve public
health by building dispensaries and leper colonies.1
Unfortunately, the objectives of “model villages”
did not entirely come to fruition. The main reason
for the failure was the colonial government’s lack
of commitment to supply funds needed to build
schools and hospitals, and to dig wells for clean
drinking water, the basic infrastructure required to
support the concentration of population exceeding
one thousand in many cases. High concentration
of population quickly depleted farming land, game,
and fish resources in the environs of “model vil-
lages.” To engage in subsistence activities, Con-
golese moved back and forth between “model vil-
lages” and old settlements, a predicament that gen-
erated resentment and ultimately forced the colo-
nial administration to discontinue the initiative.
For Africans living outside “model villages” in
communities near administrative and trading posts,
the colonial government attempted to improve pub-
lic health and to raise the living standards by urg-
ing Congolese to build better houses, and to ini'
prove methods of food production. Colonial offi'
cials moreover designed community programs and
schools’ curricula to train adults and teach children
Western notions of hygiene and protection against
mosquitoes and tsetse flies to reduce incidences of
malaria and of the sleeping sickness.
The decree of 1917 extended these concerns to
the village by forbidding Congolese from settling
in swampy regions, deemed by colonial officials to
be tsetse fly environments. This legislation, as th®
one previously discussed, allowed colonial official8
to monitor and to redistribute the Congolese popu'
lations responding to the need of labor for privai
companies.
1 AA n.d. a; 1930; APO 1917a; Pakasa 1974:100.
101.2 0°6
Anthropos
Colonial Response to Population Depletion in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936
405
Colonial government officials associated low
childbirths and the decline of population with
polygyny, just as missionaries did. They argued
that polygyny locked young women into marital
unions with a fewer old men, creating sexual im-
balance in communities. To liberate young wives
who were in the prime of their reproductive capac-
ity from polygamous marriages, and so alter pre-
existing family structure, the colonial government
Welcomed the First World War efforts, and imposed
taxes on polygyny in 1914. However, while im-
plementing the legislation, colonial officials were
more interested in collecting taxes than in abolish-
ing polygyny. As a matter of fact, the turning point
m fighting polygyny came in 1926 when the colo-
nial government created native courts, which offi-
cials successfully converted into weapons against
P°lygynous men and tax defaulters.
In addition to using native courts to gather taxes,
colonial officials also employed the institutions to
settle marital disputes, conflicts over the reimburse-
ment of bridewealth, and elopements. They were
concerned that unless they were resolved, such con-
flicts could destroy the stability of the households
and communities, and unsettle local administra-
tions. Despite differences in the ways in which
the colonial officials combined the implementation
°f the two legislations to achieve both goals, the
transcripts of native courts show that colonial gov-
ernment officials employed the institutions to fight
Polygyny. In Coquilathville Province, for example,
territorial administrators in 1919 settled disputes
°ver the reimbursement of bridewealth to polygy-
n°us men in favor of the wives. Some confiscated
bridewealth from polygynous husbands and allo-
cated it to schools and organizations fighting polyg-
yny. Others yet legalized the marriage of unmarried
trien with the wives of polygynous men or lowered
tfle amounts of bridewealth to reimburse the latter
(Magotte 1938; AA 1921a).
These measures liberated wives from polygy-
nPus husbands. However, colonial officials ran into
difficulties because of the usefulness of the in-
sfltution to the colonial administration and econ-
°nry, and because they undermined the stability
°f local communities. Regardless of their polygy-
n°us status, the colonial administration rarely dis-
î^issed Congolese chiefs whom they had integrated
mto the lower level of the administration to carry
°nt critical tasks. Chiefs were instrumental in re-
citing labor, collecting taxes, and running na-
Ve courts. They were instrumental in transforming
Native courts into the real avenue of negotiations
et\veen colonial officials and ordinary Africans
'fakaka 1997b: 472-473). While the alliance of
Anihropos 101.2006
African chiefs with the colonial administration al-
lowed them to even become and remain polygy-
nous, strong economic motives protected ordinary
polygynous men. As the mandatory system of cash
crops compelled every male to cultivate, labor to
hire was not available. The scarcity of labor and
the absence of mechanization in peasant agriculture
made polygyny the only way for males to mobi-
lize sizeable labor within the household to boost
the production of cash crops. The role of polygyny
in boosting production and the need for meeting
production quotas encouraged colonial officials to
oppose the complete abolition of polygyny, because
achieving production targets influenced positively
their promotion. Congolese polygynous men ob-
tained also the unwitting support of colonial of-
ficials who feared that the elimination of polyg-
yny could cause prostitution, which they believed,
was more harmful to childbirths than long intervals
between childbirths caused by polygyny. In addi-
tion, because tax on polygyny brought money in
local treasuries, many colonial officials rarely took
a strong stand against the institution. As I will show
later, men resisted polygyny-taxation, and their op-
position found its way into native courts all con-
trolled by men. In reality, when using customary
law in the native courts, male elders commonly set
rules that accommodated polygyny (AA 1921a).
The dynamics of the colonial economy rein-
forced the resiliency of polygyny to attacks by the
colonial administration. With the introduction of
the new currency in 1910, bride-price increased
in the 1920s and 1930s, hurting unmarried young
men who could have benefited from the legisla-
tion. Because these young men did not have the
bride-price, the introduction of the new currency
maintained polygyny among the affluent and the
powerful who surreptitiously fought back. More
often than not, polygynous men hid some wives
from tax collectors and census takers, and intro-
duced the youngest to officials as daughters. In re-
ality, African men opposed polygyny-taxation. The
usefulness of the institution, combined with local
resistance explains why at the time of its imposi-
tion in 1914, the Governor General made polyg-
yny illegal only among Congolese employees of the
colonial government, and outlawed it in 1920 only
among the retirees, two small groups of African
population (APO 1948-52, 1914-29). The size of
the groups, targeted by the colonial administration,
testifies to the ability of polygynous men to resist
the administration and the interaction of polygyny
with changing political and economic situations.
Faced with local opposition, colonial officials
now wrestled to change local gender ideologies
406
Osumaka Likaka
and women’s roles in production and reproduction.
The objective was to convince Congolese men to
change the idea that “polygyny amounted to the
hoarding of wealth,” the belief that “the more a
husband has wives the more his farms will produce
and the more his livestock will thrive,” and the
shared assumption that “a woman constituted a
source of wealth” (AA 1919b).
It is definitely difficult to gauge the impact of
colonial officials’ undertaking. Nevertheless, the
resiliency of polygyny suggests that these cam-
paigns did not entirely achieve the expected results.
The failure of the campaigns was one of the reasons
why the colonial administration introduced better
farming tools to undercut polygyny as a method of
female labor mobilization in mandatory cash crop
cultivation (AA 1923).
To expand cash crop cultivation, district com-
missioners and territorial administrators periodi-
cally exempted entire villages from paying taxes
in kind and in labor when economic stresses and
epidemics stroke these communities. In its pursuit
of demographic regimes with high birth rates and of
changing family structure, the colonial government
started in 1921 to grant tax exemptions to house-
holds with more than four children. Congolese ap-
preciated tax exemptions not only because the ini-
tiative was a major financial relief (Anstey 1966;
Merlier 1962: 82), but also because by encourag-
ing high fertility the initiative resonated with lo-
cal ideologies of biological reproduction. In the
languages of the Mongo and Mbole, who live in
the center of the Congo Basin, the verb ota means
to give birth, and it is proto-Bantu as is the term
likondo, meaning banana tree. Because of its high
yield, the banana tree is a metaphor for high hu-
man fertility. Even in wartime and famine when
food becomes scarce and the raising of children
a challenge, the views of biological reproduction
held by peoples of the Congo Basin still favored
high childbirths. Using the analogy of the high
yield of the banana tree, the Mongo would say,
“The health of a banana is found in the number
of its leaves” (Hulstaert 1958: 214, No. 772). The
meaning of bridewealth is equally revealing of the
ideology of biological reproduction. The Mongo set
the amount of bridewealth proportionate to the age
of the bride because a young woman, the ideal wife,
would have many children. Similarly, the Mbole
would say, “From banana seedlings, come banana
trees.” The Mbole saying, “You must always have
children even if your brother has many” likewise
expressed the desirability of having many children.
The mutual support among siblings justified the
need for large families because “being two siblings
was better than being alone.”2 In summary, the
need for relief from tax burden and the policy res-
onance with local ideologies of reproduction won
over Congolese couples.
Temporary labor migrations and heavy recruit-
ing deprived communities of healthy males, dimin-
ished food production, upset sex ratios, and cre-
ated involuntary sexual abstinence among wives
in migrants-sending communities (AA 1929a,
1929b). Policies to alleviate the negative effects
of migrations came earlier when the colonial ad-
ministration monitored the movements of men and
women living in chefferies and secteurs by enforc-
ing the pass cards law of 1910. Nevertheless, Con-
golese who lived in mining camps, state posts, and
trading stations escaped administrative monitoring-
A commission in 1918 restricted the movements
of these Congolese as it criminalized “vagrancies,”
and regulated female sexuality. For mere accusa-
tions of prostitution and promiscuous sexual behav-
iors, it, moreover, authorized colonial officials to
arrest and send back to their villages female adoles-
cents, unmarried young women, and widows who
lived in these agglomerations. It also authorized
them to round up and compel valid unemployed
men to enter the workforce or to join the colonial
army (AA 1921b).
An additional law further empowered territorial
administrators in 1922 to fight abusive methods
of recruitments, to summon companies to supply
good rations to workers, and to improve healthcare
where it badly lacked (AA 1930). The goal was to
improve low standards of living, to remedy food
shortages, and to diminish morbidity, problems that
persisted in the labor camps. Outside labor camp8»
district commissioners and territorial administra-
tors implemented similar rules by occasionally ex-
empting entire villages for one year from porter-
age, taxes, and work in the mines and road con-
struction, although high-ranking officials generally
opposed these measures because their uncontrolled
implementation diminished cash crop production
and eventually state revenues. Such measures im-
proved public health. A body of evidence show8
that work in road construction caused hardships and
deaths. The construction of a road in Lubefu m
the Sankuru District in the 1920s is a good illn8'
tration. During its construction, some 6,381 Con-
golese worked on the project but as many as 2Id
died over three months in 1925 (AA 1926). The
new laws authorized district commissioners to of'
der company managers to mechanize their ente1'
2 Interview with Osoko, Lelema, July 1980.
101-2006
Anthropos
Colonial Response to Population Depletion in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936
407
prises, to stabilize their workforce, and to improve
conditions of work and life. The General Governor
put it plainly, when he wrote:
You must guarantee healthy and abundant food, pay
handsome wages regularly, make family life easier, and
organize labor contracts in a manner that permits workers
to be in touch with their villages (AA 1926).
The Governor of Orientale Province A. de Meule-
meester struck a similar chord in 1925 in defense
of workers at the gold mines of Kilo-Moto:
I am absolutely not willing to maintain mineworkers
in slavery ... the Director of the mines must change
the situation sooner ... I will no longer authorize the
territorial authorities to continue to assist in recruiting
labor if the plight of workers does not improve (AA
1925b).
To eliminate porterage, which “increased the risk
°f contamination of sleeping sickness and malaria,
and decimated entire groups” (AA 1933, 1936b),
the colonial administration ordered private com-
panies to build roads and to increase the number
°f markets in the areas of their operation in or-
der to reduce distances that peasants traveled to
Sell their cash crops. Although the construction of
these roads still had negative impact on the pop-
ulation as the case of Lubefu Road described ear-
her showed, the roads reduced porterage and ex-
haustion. Where porterage persisted, the colonial
administration built rest houses alongside roads.
Overall, the impacts of this initiative on demogra-
phy were mixed (AA 1938).
The most successful initiative that alleviated the
negative effects of migrations and excessive recruit-
lng was the implementation of a set of recommen-
dations by the government labor commissions of
*925, 1928, and 1930 (Léonard 1935: 330, 341,
^6). The three commissions divided potential re-
sults into travailleurs au loin (long-distance work-
ers), travailleurs à petite distance (short-distance
Workers), and travailleurs sur place (on-spot work-
ersX and set precise percentages of healthy males
lri each category the employers were allowed to
recruit from any chiefdom. Based on the recom-
mendations of the commissions, local administra-
is disallowed to recruit more than 10 per cent of
^althy males as long-distance workers from any
/defdom, and half of this percentage would not
ke the job if the trip to the workplace required two
*s of walk. The objective was to prevent deaths
migrants and regular workers caused by long
e*Ps, change in diets, and maladjustment to new
Vlronments and climates. Yogolelo wa Kasimba
has documented that numerous new workers of the
“Union Minière du Haut-Katanga” from Maniema
died of diarrhea in Ruashi, the outskirts of to-
day Lubumbashi because they did not tolerate a
diet based on corn flour (Yogolelo 1974: 100; APO
1924-25, 1928, 1930-31). Similarly, employers
could recruit only 15 per cent of villagers as short-
distance migrants, and the tasks of these seasonal
workers could not interfere with their daily eco-
nomic activities or the pursuit of entertainments.
The goal of this rule was to make rural life pleasur-
able, although this goal was not attainable during
the period studied as corvée-labor and compulsory
cash crop production still negatively affected the
health of peasants and the quality of their nutri-
tion (Bertrand 1955). This rule kept short-distance
migrants within their ethnic boundaries, reducing
migrations and the spread of diseases. The tra-
vailleurs sur place consisted of workers the ter-
ritorial administrators and agronomists considered
incapable of adjusting to working conditions out-
side their “homeland.” Now their role consisted of
providing labor to local enterprises at peak labor
demands particularly in seasonal activities (Likaka
1997a: 8-14; APO 1948-52). Put differently, the
new rules set a ratio of 22 healthy males to 75
women, children, and the old, or disabled. Finally,
the division of the country into economic zones in
1928, which created a regional division of labor,
reduced labor competition and minimized the im-
pact of excessive labor recruitments on communi-
ties. The purpose of all the changes was to serve
the capitalist sectors of the economy without un-
dermining the reproductive capacity of households
and communities.
Initial colonial government public health poli-
cies from the beginning to 1933 aimed at eradicat-
ing endemic diseases and epidemics.3 To achieve
this goal, the colonial government officials quar-
antined people afflicted with sleeping sickness and
leprosy in special villages, and built dispensaries
headed by a physician in each territoire (APO
1917b). Through the measures, they attempted to
bring modern medicine to the villagers. To sway of-
ficials in the central government in Belgium, more-
over, high-ranking officials in the Congo under-
scored the economic dimension of public health by
arguing that its improvement was an integral com-
ponent of the expansion of cash nexus. To promote
cotton cultivation in Uele, for example, the Gov-
ernor of Orientale Province A. de Meulemeester
pleaded to the central administration this way;
3 Van der Linden 1948: 371; Cattier 1906; Bertrand 1955.
408
Osumaka Likaka
The Azande is sedentary but the sleeping sickness is
awaiting for him ... We should take measures to defend
him against the scourge so he can prosper by growing
a textile, which the Egyptians in the past taught him
how to cultivate, to spin, and to weave (de Meulemeester
1921:652; APO 1910-1932).
The results of all the initiatives varied. The ini-
tiatives reversed demographic distortions in some
communities, and failed in most. In 1952, over a
decade after the period investigated, the “Conseil
de Province Orientale” still concluded, “Despite the
protection and medical care they received, the de-
mographic future of some communities was defi-
nitely jeopardized” (APO 1952: 77).
To sum up this account of the colonial admin-
istration’s efforts to end population decline, I will
underline two points. Until the 1920s, the colonial
administration was still weak to control the coun-
tryside. As a result, private companies continued to
create environments conducive to the destruction of
Congolese population. Nevertheless, economic rea-
sons and international pressures forced the colonial
government to take censuses, to undertake efforts to
control epidemics and migrations, and to encourage
high childbirths. These measures countered differ-
entially the demographic effects of diseases, porter-
age, and migrations.
Changing Demographic Regimes:
Company Strategies
For the future of the race and the prosperity of
our colony, we must count on high childbirths
(AA n.d. c).
This quote underscores the common interest the
mining companies and the colonial administration
shared in halting the destruction of populations.
This interest appeared in the common efforts for
the stabilization of labor, which, with emphasis
on the mechanization of industries and construc-
tion of roads and railroads, represented the most
important change, which relieved African com-
munities of the burdens of labor demands and no-
tably improved conditions of public health and
biological reproduction. Initiatives taken by For-
minière, Kilo-Moto mines, and Géomines, which
developed similar methods of recruitments and
policies regarding rations, housing, and healthcare,
resulted in the stability of the households, which
remained the units of reproduction and production
of exchange values in both villages and workers
camps.
Since its foundation in 1910, Géomines had re-
lied on the rotations of migrants and unmarried reg-
ular workers for its operation. Flowever, to improve
the general demographic situations in its camps, the
company undertook several initiatives for the stabi-
lization of its workforce. Going against past prac-
tices, it predominantly hired married workers in the
mid-1920s, in particular young couples to whom
it paid premiums in exchange for high childbirths.
The company also promoted the stabilization of
the households and population growth by paying
the bride-price for unmarried workers. The ultimate
goal was the elimination of “faux marriages” and
prostitution, which spread venereal diseases in its
labor camps and affected workers’ fertility. Fur-
thermore, Géomines paid child allowances in the
1920s to encourage workers’ families to shorten
birth spacing (AA 1936a). This measure was an at-
tack on a long-standing tradition, which, by allow-
ing a long period of lactation, created long spaces
between births and reduced fertility, therefore con-
tributing to the depopulation of the Congo.
In summary, the company’s shift from hiring
migrants and unmarried workers to employing reg-
ularly married workers and the gifts of money to
unmarried workers for the payment of bridewealth
reduced migrations and prostitution in the camps-
Moreover, the payment of material incentives to
the families of workers in exchange for high births
and child allowances in return for short birth spaces
lured couples to have many children. These initia-
tives resulted in the stability of the households and
high fertility.
Founded jointly in 1906 by the “Société Gène-
rale” and two American concerns, Forminière re-
ceived a diamond mining concession in Kasai, and
set up three rubber plantations in the Leopold II
Lake District (Vellut 1983). Forminière took simi-
lar measures to improve demographic conditions m
its mining concessions and hinterlands. The com-
pany demonstrated its commitment to the improve-
ment of biological reproduction and family life U
its camps by recruiting mainly married workers,
and by providing unmarried workers and new re-
cruits with advances in cash to pay for bride-price
(AA 1928b, 1929b). More relevant to the com'
pany’s efforts of encouraging population growth
was its structural reform, aimed at ending porter-
age that decimated porters, migrants, and regu'
lar recruits. Besides the use of navigable parts 0
rivers, the company built six thousand kilometer
of roads. By 1927, these roads connected the cot*1'
pany’s mines to recruiting centers, and enabled itt0
move recruits by using beasts of burden, wagonS’
and trucks (AA 1928b, 1929b).
Anthropos 101-20^
Colonial Response to Population Depletion in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936
409
After the company had constructed roads to
move workers, several communities known as vil-
lages routiers emerged alongside. Settled first by
retired workers, new residents attracted by the
prospect of receiving healthcare from Forminiére
joined the communities. The maintenance of sec-
tions of roads and the production of foodstuffs for
the company’s workforce to improve workers’ nu-
trition, the two major economic roles assigned to
these communities, were integral parts of the com-
pany’s conscious efforts to reverse population de-
cline. An infrastructure of roads, while it allevi-
ated many problems that undermined population
growth, did not end the depletion of population,
however. The heavy traffic, for example, constantly
required labor for road repairs.
Two decades after the operation of Kilo and
Moto mines began, the colonial government high-
ranking officials’ critiques of conditions of work,
health, and diets had become voluminous. Colo-
nial officials explicitly compelled the company to
expand the medical infrastructure of dispensaries
and hospitals, and to improve its methods of sup-
plying foodstuffs to the camps in order to ensure
food security and the stability of the households.
In responding, the company improved healthcare
to reduce the prevalence of dysentery, meningitis,
syphilis, ulcers, and yaws, diseases that still af-
fected and killed workers until the late 1920s. In
Particular, it extended treatments by injections to
Patients inflicted with syphilis, yaws, and ulcer. As
Part of “pro-natal” policy, the company created ma-
ternity wards supervised by nursing midwives and
Pediatric clinics managed by Catholic nuns and Eu-
r°pean women. To fight infant mortality, these ser-
rices began weighing infants, detecting intestinal
Parasites, and treating yaws, and provided prena-
tel consultations and medicines to improve health
rihile simultaneously promoting disease prevention
(AA 1929b).
To encourage mothers to utilize hospitals and
teduce long intervals between births, the company
lstributed incentives in cash and in kind. The
rinount of money and goods given changed over
tete. In 1928, mothers received 75 francs, loin-
oths, blankets, and ponchos which they so much
aPpreciated to protect children against the chilly
leather of the Ituri District. They also received
jtee, palm oil, and salt. The stereotype of “African
to2!ness” was as powerful an exploitative practice
justify the appropriation of labor as the distri-
ct1011 of material incentives, which won over the
urts and minds of African peasants. The man-
gers of Kilo and Moto mines labeled workers’
1Ves “lazy” in order to justify the obligation they
Aith
imposed on them to grow food on the company’s
land. To workers’ wives, who produced more food
for their families, the company distributed produc-
tion premiums in addition to gifts of household
products to those who kept their homes clean. The
gifts concealed the exploitative nature of material
incentives and encouraged workers’ wives to in-
crease food production and to improve the quality
of family nutrition (Likaka 1997a: 8-10).
Struggle for Fertility and Health:
Catholic Missionary Strategies as Paradigm
Catholic missionaries contributed to the regenera-
tion of the Congolese population by founding dis-
pensaries, denouncing ruthless methods of recruit-
ing workers in their ecclesiastical regions, and by
changing traditions and institutions that molded
sexual practices and behaviors, and local ideologies
that underpinned biological reproduction (APO
1937). Schools and clinics were built to achieve
these goals. It was at a mission station dispen-
sary that most Congolese for the first time received
kinini (linguistic interference of quinine) to treat
malaria, castor oil for worms, and Mercurochrome
for wounds.4 Where Catholic missionaries did not
own dispensaries, they ran or worked in those
owned by private companies. The prospects of ed-
ucation and healthcare influenced Africans’ recep-
tion of missionaries’ discourse on gender, sexuality,
and biological reproduction.
The greatest contribution of Catholic mission-
aries in reversing population decline was in fight-
ing devastating colonial economic practices. They
denounced the negative effects of rubber collec-
tion from the very beginning by bringing to light
the wars and unsanitary conditions in which Con-
golese villagers collected rubber. Once the col-
lection of rubber collapsed, Catholic missionaries
denounced the abusive recruitments done by pri-
vate companies and nutritional deficiencies brought
about by mandatory cash crop cultivation. In this
struggle, their membership in advisory institutions
such “Commission Permanente pour la Protection
des Indigènes” allowed them to influence colonial
decisions (Roelens 1923).
From the outset, Catholic missionaries directed
numerous campaigns towards the regulation of
marriage, the abolition of bridewealth, methods of
breast-feeding, and birth spacing, which they be-
4 Interview with Katayi, Lubumbashi, July 17, 1986. The term
kinini in many African languages today is the semantic
equivalent of pills.
lroPos 101.2006
410
Osumaka Likaka
lieved acted as barriers to population increase. Mis-
sionaries also targeted the elimination of polygyny.
They argued that polygyny lowered fertility and up-
set sex ratios because the most productive women
married fewer old men. We have discussed that
the introduction of the money economy increased
bride-price in the 1920s and 1930s, hurting unmar-
ried young men. Until the 1930s, these unmarried
young men in the Congo Basin and Uele could
not easily find wives. The situation forced many
to postpone marriage or to migrate. Thus, empir-
ical evidence supported the claims of missionar-
ies. The Catholic clergymen, who have since the
1890s pressured the colonial government to outlaw
polygyny, saw their efforts come to fruition when
in 1914, as discussed earlier, the colonial govern-
ment forced polygynous men to pay taxes on every
additional wife. The legislation began to play an ef-
fective role only after 1926, when the colonial gov-
ernment created native courts, which missionaries
successfully used to fight polygyny (APO 1914—
29, 1948: 728). Catholic missionaries also offered
refuge to “women whose behavior was out of
hands” in the eyes of kinfolks. This group consisted
of widows who, because of the widespread practice
of levirate, could end in polygamous unions, and fe-
male adolescents who had objected to an arranged
marriage and run away from the authority of the
family and lineage (AA n.d. b, 1919a).
Local ideologies underpinning biological repro-
duction, long-spaced childbirths, postpartum sex-
ual abstinence, methods of abortion, and gen-
der roles in production and reproduction, were
the targets of Catholic missionaries’ campaigns.
Although missionaries pressured the government
to enact antipolygyny legislation, they were con-
vinced that a permanent solution for high child-
births lay in changing local ideologies of biological
reproduction. This amounted to the change of tra-
ditions and gender ideologies. In reality, Catholic
missionaries believed that persuasion through con-
versations would “awaken women’s conscience of
moral value and self-respect” (AA 1923). Postpar-
tum sexual abstinence was a tradition that women
followed prior to colonization, and which lasted at
least two years while they breast-fed babies. Mis-
sionaries believed that long spaces between births
were the cause of polygyny and the root of low fer-
tility. They thought that by abolishing the tradition
and abortive practices, they could shorten birth in-
tervals and increase fertility. Catholic missionaries’
campaigns against these traditions and practices,
part of a discourse of modernity, weakened the tra-
ditions. However, they were not entirely successful.
Besides the radicalism of these changes, causing
local resistance, the dynamics of regional colonial
economy, which had incorporated the households,
countered missionaries’ actions. As we have seen,
mandatory cash crop production encouraged polyg-
yny, and mining required a large workforce, cre-
ating migrations that resulted in sexual imbalance
as men left temporarily the village for work. In
migrants-sending groups of Watsa, for example,
women still aborted in the absence of their hus-
bands working in the mines in spite of missionaries’
campaigns. Chief Sengbwe’s testimony in Watsa,
in 1929, is illuminating in this respect and worth
quoting at length:
In the past, when the cause of someone’s death was
not evident, always a suspect was subjected to a poi-
son ordeal. Since your arrival, you Europeans, the prac-
tice has been forbidden. The practice of course put to
death innocent persons. However, it always had bene-
fit since women feared to abort in the belief that they
would pass through the benge [poison ordeal]. Now the
tradition has disappeared almost completely and women
use frequently medicines to abort. Today the number of
abortions is higher than you can imagine. Some practices
have no sense in your eyes but they used to create fear
of abortions and adultery ... labor camps are now places
where traditions are no longer observed. Mutilations are
forbidden, but prostitution is in place and venereal dis-
eases are spreading like fire (AA 1929a).
Between 1886 and 1933, Catholic missionaries cre-
ated schools, which they transformed into vehicles
of cultural change to influence sexual behaviors
of younger generations (AA 1921a). Since 1906,
a concordat between the Vatican and the Congo
Free State granted Catholic missions the right to
build schools in exchange for land. Well before the
concordat, numerous religious orders had already
flooded over the colony to transform the space
and the culture of local people. From mission sta-
tions, the “pro-natal” discourse extended into local
communities. In reality, this treaty had more far-
reaching consequences in transforming sexual be-
havior and the ideologies of biological reproduction
because of missionaries’ control over schooling
than the polygyny-taxation discussed earlier. In the
Vicariate of Higher Congo, created on 3 Decern'
ber 1886, Victor Roelens, who became successively
its apostolic administrator in 1893 and bishop in
1896, forged the order’s population strategy. Prior
to 1894, the area, which became the Vicariate of
Higher Congo, was a slave-exporting region. LoV
population resulting from the slave trade may have
prompted the use of presents to Christian famiheS
in exchange for short-spaced childbirth. Any Chris'
tian family that had a child within the eighteen
Anthropos 101-2006
Colonial Response to Population Depletion in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936
411
months following a birth, received gifts of clothes,
food, soap, and medical advice. Baudouinville
(today Moba), the seat of the Vicariate, shows
that the White Fathers’ program was successful.
Founded in 1893, Baudouinville was already a
small city by 1898. At that time, slave ransoming
and immigration accounted for a rapid increase in
population. By 1914, however, the population of
the city was 2,000 and included 400 monogamous
families, which had an average of four children
each.5 Natural increase explains this late overall
population increase.
References Cited
Archival Sources
n.d. b Eloi au gouverneur de la Province de l’Equateur. Coqui-
lathville. - A. I. (1416).
n.d. c P. J. Bourgaux. - A. I. (1416).
APO [Archives de la Province Orientale, Kisangani]
1910-32 Rapport annuel sur l’agriculture, 1910-1932.
1914-29 Recueil mensuel (1914), 159, 262; (1918), 140;
(1920), 60; (1923), 148; (1929), 211.
1917a Bulletin Administratif 1917.
1917b Rapport annuel sur l’administration du Congo, 1917.
1924-25 Rapport de la Commission de la main-d’oeuvre au
Congo (1924-1925).
1928 Rapport de la Commission de la main-d’oeuvre indigène
(1928).
1930-31 Rapport de la Commission de la main-d’ oeuvre indi-
gène (1930-1931).
1937 Bulletin du comité cotonnier congolais 1937.
1948-52 Conseil de Province Orientale, 1948-52.
AA [African Archives, Brussels]
1919a
1919b
1920
1921a
1921b
1923
1925a
1925b
1926
1927
1928a
1928b
1929a
1929b
1930
1933
936a
936b
1938
1957
n-d. ;
Engels, A.: Polygamie: Dot. Coquilathville, le 15 Sep-
tembre 1919. - A. I. (1416).
No. 6602, Coquilathville, le 25 Septembre 1919. - A. I.
(1368).
V. G. G. au Ministre des Colonies: Renseignement sur la
culture cotonnière en Ituri. Borna, le 2 Novembre 1920.
Requier; Note sur la polygamie dans le territoire de
Budjala. Itotko, le 10 Septembre 1921. - A. I. (1416).
Mascart, M.: Village Monia, le 2 December 1921. - A. I.
(1416).
Van den Eede: Lutte contre la polygamie. Léopoldville,
1923.-A. I. (1416).
De Meulemeester, A.: Rapport mines de Moto. Stanley-
ville, le 16 April 1925. - A. I. (1416).
De Meulemeester, A. au Ministre. Borna, le 24 July
1925.-A. I. (1416).
Hygiène des travailleurs occupés à la construction
de routes. Borna, le 26 Mai 1926. - A. I. (1416);
AIMO/14B.
Rapport politique pour le premier semestre 1927 du
district de l’Ituri.
Perier, G.; Aide mémoire concernant la situation à Geti.
1928.-A. I. (1416).
Moncary; Situation sanitaire [1928].
Gérard; No. 427-Hyg, Watsa, le 24 Septembre 1929.
Moulaert, G.: Situation démographique à Kilo, le 2 Fé-
vrier 1929.
Recueil à l’usage des fonctionnaires et agents du service
territorial. Bruxelles.
Keyaser, H. L.: Notes synthétiques complétant la docu-
mentation des rapports annuels AIMO 1933 des A. T. du
Tanganyika.
Tribune Congolaise, le 15 mai 1936.
Wauthion, R. V; Rapport annuel. District de Tanganyika.
Déplacement de villages, le 29 April 1938. - A. I.
(1403).
A propos des problèmes du milieu rural congolais. Pro-
blèmes sociaux congolais 36: 152.
Note pour Monsieur le Directeur Schitz. - A. I. (1386).
5 Leplae 1914: 19; Mudimbe 1994: 108, 110; Vansina 1965:
221.
Anth
Literature
Anstey, R.
1966 King Leopold’s Legacy. London: Chatto and Windus.
Bertrand, A.
1955 Le problème de la main-d’oeuvre au Congo. Bruxelles.
Cattier, F.
1906 Etude sur la situation du Congo. Brussels: Ferdinand
Larcier. [2nd éd.]
de Meulemeester, A.
1921 L’agriculture dans la Province Orientale en 1920. Bulle-
tin agricole du Congo belge 4: 639-660.
Hulstaert, G.
1958 Proverbes Mongo. Tervuren: Musée royal du Congo
belge.
Janzen, J.
1978 The Quest for Therapy in Lower Zaire. Berkeley: Uni-
versity of California Press.
Léonard,H.
1935 Le contrat de travail au Congo belge et Ruanda-Urundi.
Bruxelles: Fernand Larcier.
Leplae, E.
1914 L’agriculture coloniale dans la discussion du budget du
Congo belge pour 1914. Revue générale agronomique.
Likaka, O.
1997a Colonialisme et clichés sociaux au Congo belge. Africa
(Rome) 52: 1-27.
1997b Rural Society and Cotton in Colonial Zaire. Madison:
University of Wisconsin Press.
Magotte, J.
1938 Circonscriptions indigènes. La Louvière: Imprimerie
Louvièroise.
Merlier, M.
1962 Le Congo de la colonisation belge à l’indépendance.
Paris: François Maspero.
Mudimbe, V. Y.
1994 The Idea of Africa. Bloomington: Indiana University
Press.
‘ropos 101.2006
412
Osumaka Likaka
Pakasa Nayipere
1974 La politique indigène dans la vallée du Haut-Lubilashi,
1900-1940. Lubumbashi. [M. A. Thesis, Unaza]
Roelens, V.
1923 Les abus du recrutement de la main-d’oeuvre au Congo.
Une protestation des chefs religieux catholiques de la
Colonie. Le Flambeau pp. 129-130.
Van der Linden, F.
1948 Paysans et prolétaires noirs. Revue de la société belge
d’études et d’expansion 31: 371.
Vansina, J.
1965 Kingdoms of the Savanna. Madison: The University of
Wisconsin Press.
Vellut, J. L.
1983 Mining in the Belgian Congo. In: P. Martin and M. Klein
(eds.), History of Central Africa. London; Longman.
Yogolelo wa Kasimba
1974 Mission du recrutement de la main-d’oeuvre de l’Union
Minière du Haut-Katanga au Maniema, 1928. Lubumba-
shi. [M. A. Thesis, Unaza]
101.2006
Anthropos
Anthropos
101.2006: 413-427
Des sites sacrés à incendier
Feux rituels et bosquets sacrés chez les Bwaba du Burkina Faso
et les Bassar du Togo
Stéphan Dugast
Abstract. - Many West African societies, notably in the voltaic
cultural area, light ritual bush fires every year in places strictly
reserved for this purpose. Although widespread amongst the
region’s societies, the phenomenon is little researched. Yet, this
Practice is of primary importance in local rituals and social
0rganisations and reveals local representations of nature. This
article is based on a comparative study carried out among
lvv° societies separated by several hundred kilometres. The
^udy documents variants and constants of this cultural practice.
I Burkina Faso, Togo, Bwaba, Bassar, ritual bush fires, sacred
%r°ves, sacred kingship, nature/society relations]
^cphan Dugast est ethnologue à l’Institut de recherche pour
e développement, affecté au Muséum National d’Histoire Na-
celle, à Paris. Responsable de l’équipe “Comparaison des pra-
lclUes rituelles et des représentations liées à la constitution des
crritoires” de PUR 026 de 1TRD (Patrimoines et Territoires),
Puis du chantier “Sites sacrés naturels” de TUR 169 de 1TRD, il
effectué de longues recherches de terrain principalement chez
s Bwaba du Burkina Faso et chez les Bassar du Nord-Togo,
^es recherches l’ont conduit également à étudier les systèmes
® classes d’âge et de génération des sociétés lagunaires de Côte
voire. Publications : voir références citées.
Propos de sites sacrés “naturels”,1 on a coutume
tte parler de la “protection” dont ils font l’objet,
Protection” qui serait assurée notamment dans un
^adre rituel par l’application d’interdits sur la coupe
u bois ou sur toute autre forme de prélèvement. On
^st Bfoins familiarisé avec l’idée d’une autre gestion
e tels sites, gestion qui, dans certains cas, s’ap-
Parente à une forme de “destruction” périodique
ü couvert végétal de lieux pourtant tout aussi sa-
res que les précédents. C’est un tel exemple que
je voudrais présenter ici, en examinant le cas des
feux rituels que certaines populations africaines
pratiquent chaque année sur des sites sacrés dont
c’est la vocation.
D’emblée, un tel exemple impose d’introduire
la question de savoir dans quelle mesure de tels
sites sacrés sont vraiment naturels. S’agissant de
ceux qui sont soumis à un acte aussi destructeur
en apparence qu’une mise à feu, on se devrait de
réfuter l’adéquation d’un tel attribut et ne le réser-
ver qu’aux seuls bois sacrés, lieux dont le maintien
à l’état naturel serait sans conteste garanti par la
protection vigilante dont ils bénéficient.
La vision que certaines populations africaines
ont de leurs sites sacrés “naturels” ne semble néan-
moins pas laisser place à une telle dichotomie, op-
posant le caractère véritablement naturel des sites
perpétuellement “protégés” au caractère altéré de
ceux périodiquement “détruits”. L’examen du cas
des Bwaba du Burkina Faso fournira la principale
illustration d’un mode de pensée construit tout au-
trement. Un autre exemple, celui des Bassar du
Togo, permettra tout à la fois de confirmer l’analyse
du cas burkinabé et d’entrevoir le champ des va-
riables qui structurent un tel mode de pensée. Chez
1 Le sujet qui est abordé dans ce texte a d’abord été traité
à l’occasion d’un symposium organisé en septembre 1998
dans le cadre de FUNESCO, et ayant pour thème “Les sites
sacrés naturels” (Dugast 1998). Plusieurs enquêtes de terrain
ultérieures ont, depuis, permis de l’enrichir notablement.
414
Stéphan Dugast
Bosquets sacrés et aires de feux
dans les représentations bwaba
ces deux populations en effet, bois sacrés et sites à
feux rituels sont pour une large part pensés simul-
tanément, donc inclus dans une même classe, et, au
sein de cette classe, positionnés d’un point de vue
logique l’un par rapport à l’autre. Et, s’ils sont alors
par bien des côtés présentés comme opposés, cette
opposition n’est en rien centrée sur le statut de site
naturel qui serait reconnu à l’un et dénié à l’autre.
Nous verrons d’ailleurs que les termes dans les-
quels sont conçues ces relations rejoignent, d’une
certaine façon, les résultats des analyses auxquelles
se rallient aujourd’hui la plupart des écologues
quant au fonctionnement spécifique des milieux de
savane : le feu ne leur apparaît plus comme un
élément destructeur du milieu naturel, et il peut
même dans une large mesure en être considéré
comme un élément régulateur. On sait que l’es-
sentiel des zones de savanes est chaque année, et
depuis des temps immémoriaux, parcouru par les
feux. Dès lors, c’est leur absence qui constituerait
une perturbation telle qu’elle conduirait à une mo-
dification significative du milieu, lequel deviendrait
du coup probablement autre chose qu’un milieu
de savanes. Ces analyses nous apprennent d’autre
part que, localement, une protection absolue contre
toute forme d’incendie (comme celle dont bénéfi-
cient précisément les bois sacrés) conduit à la for-
mation d’un couvert végétal différent de ce qu’il
serait si l’intervention de l’homme ne faisait pas
obstacle au passage plus ou moins aléatoire des
feux - le feu étant, dans cette perspective, perçu
comme un phénomène proprement naturel.
À la limite, on pourrait être amené à inverser
l’image si répandue dans l’opinion publique des
pays occidentaux quant aux effets du feu sur la
végétation naturelle. Si le feu se révèle être en défi-
nitive une composante à part entière du milieu, il en
découle que son passage régulier ne provoque pas
une réelle altération du caractère naturel des sites
qu’il traverse : il contribuerait même au maintien de
certains de ses traits les plus essentiels. À l’inverse,
toute protection d’une aire quelconque contre le
passage des feux pourrait, elle, modifier la com-
position de sa couverture végétale et par là, son
caractère véritablement naturel.
La perception que les Bwaba se font de la ques-
tion n’atteint pas une position aussi extrême. Nous
verrons qu’ils placent plutôt sur un même plan ces
deux modes d’intervention. Et ceci en dépit des
différences tranchées qu’ils présentent, avant tout
perçues par les Bwaba à travers les spécificités re-
connues à chacun de ces deux types de sites. Ce
sont ces spécificités, de nature essentiellement so-
ciale et symbolique, que nous tenterons d’éclairer.
Dans leurs représentations des entités surnaturelles
avec lesquelles ils doivent composer, les Bwaba
font une place à part à un ensemble de lieux que
nous serions tentés de qualifier de sites sacrés na-
turels. Ces sites partagent la caractéristique distinc-
tive d’être des secteurs particuliers de la brousse,
investis de façon permanente par des génies ([ni-
hamba) qui en sont en quelque sorte les proprié-
taires invisibles. L’association entre ces génies et
cette section particulière du paysage naturel qu’ils
occupent produit une source de puissance surna-
turelle avec laquelle aura à traiter, d’une manière
ou d’une autre, le groupe social responsable de la
portion de brousse concernée.
Dans cette association, la seconde composante,
c’est-à-dire la forme singulière de l’aspect natu-
rel du site, est loin d’être un élément négligeable.
D’abord parce que c’est elle qui est responsable
de cette présence des génies : ceux-ci ne se fixent
pas indifféremment en tous lieux, ils ont une préfé-
rence marquée pour tous les accidents du paysage,
ces entailles remarquables qui viennent briser la
monotone continuité de la savane. Ensuite, car de
cette composante naturelle du site découleront plu-
sieurs caractéristiques dérivées dont les spécificités
retiendront toute l’attention des intéressés. La com-
posante naturelle de tout site se révèle ainsi un trait
distinctif majeur vis-à-vis des autres entités de la
même classe. En effet, tous les sites sacrés naturels,
bien que répondant à cette même définition, ne sont
pas perçus uniformément. Les Bwaba distinguent
ainsi les cours d’eau, les mares, les collines, les
cavités, les bosquets, etc. comme autant de types de
sites aux caractéristiques et aux propriétés chaque
fois particulières.
Témoignant de cette typologie interne, mais ne
l’épuisant pas, on trouve, très répandue dans tout le
pays bwa, une même série de noms rituels (qui sont
en même temps les noms propres des entités surna-
turelles associées à ces différents sites) qui servent
à désigner, dans le langage courant comme dans les
incantations, les mêmes types de sites sacrés “natu-
rels”. Ainsi, bwe fait partout référence à une collme
rituelle, kani désigne partout une cavité, une grotte,
voire un souterrain, boni est toujours un bosquet
sacré ; enfin, assez généralement, une cuirasse het'
beuse annuellement parcourue par les feux rituels
est désignée sous le nom de tini. Bwe, kani, bani et»
dans une moindre mesure, tini sont donc autant de
noms propres récurrents d’un village à l’autre don1
chacun désigne toujours le même type de portiori
singulière du milieu. L’existence d’un tel corpus
Anthropos 101-20^6
Des sites sacrés à incendier
415
noms propres, quasiment commun à tous les vil-
lages, est l’un des éléments qui témoignent d’une
vision systémique des sites sacrés “naturels” : les
Bwaba ressentent le besoin de penser les unes par
rapport aux autres, dans un système, les plus remar-
quables des composantes du milieu naturel qui les
entoure.
La constitution d’un tel système résulte d’abord
d’une sélection des différents types de sites “natu-
rels” jugés pertinents (au regard de leur représenta-
tivité des diverses réalités qui composent le milieu),
puis de leur articulation les uns par rapport aux
autres selon des normes codifiées. Nous pouvons
donc déjà retenir que les deux types de sites qui
nous intéressent plus particulièrement ici, les bois
sacrés et les aires de feu, sont, en dépit des grandes
différences qu’ils présentent au premier abord, sug-
gérant leur mutuelle incompatibilité, intégrés par
les Bwaba dans une même classification générale.
Mais les relations qui les unissent sont plus
étroites encore. Les Bwaba insistent sur le fait que,
contrairement à ce que laisserait croire une obser-
vation superficielle, des interdits analogues à ceux
fiui pèsent sur les bois sacrés sont en vigueur en ce
fiai concerne les aires de feu rituel. En réalité, tout
comme les bois sacrés, ces aires doivent d’abord
ctre impérativement épargnées par toute forme de
feu. Qu’un incendie accidentel s’y déclenche,2 et le
Responsable de cette négligence ne pourra échapper
a une mort certaine (infligée “mystérieusement” par
le site lui-même), tandis que le rituel de la mise à
feu sera annulé pour cette année-là, privant ainsi le
vfilage dans son ensemble du bénéfice attendu de
1 opération.3 Ce n’est qu’à la date fixée par le ca-
lendrier cérémoniel, et dans le cadre rituel très strict
fiui définit notamment les sacrifices à accomplir pa-
raHèlement, que le feu pourra (et même devra) être
^s, opération qui devra, de surcroît, être présidée
Par le responsable rituel du site en personne.
Ce sont donc d’abord des interdits fort sem-
blables qui, dans le système conceptuel des Bwaba,
raPprochent les deux types de sites. Quant aux dif-
férences qui sembleraient les séparer, celles-ci sont
Présentées comme des oppositions tranchées, à ca-
utère systémique. Là encore, les deux termes sont
Pensés l’un par rapport à l’autre, de sorte que de
teHes oppositions œuvrent elles aussi en faveur du
2 Comme cela s’est produit en 1999 dans le village où j’ai
séjourné.
Dans le cas de l’incendie accidentel d’un bois sacré, la sane-
don est moins sévère, ainsi que le soulignent avec insistance
Ls Bwaba eux-mêmes, puisque, pour lourde qu’elle soit,
eHe se limite alors au paiement d’un bœuf pour réparation
sacrificielle au site ainsi offensé.
rapprochement, même si c’est cette fois pour ins-
taurer une vigoureuse distinction. Ces oppositions
portent d’abord sur la composition végétale des
deux types de sites. Les Bwaba se plaisent à sou-
ligner que, tandis que les bois sacrés sont, pour la
plupart, et ce, dès l’origine, des peuplements denses
d’arbres au sous-bois si touffu que le tapis herbacé
y est quasi-inexistant, les aires de feux sont, au
contraire, de vastes zones herbeuses presque tota-
lement dépourvues d’arbres. Alors que la succes-
sion des saisons se lit à travers les fortes fluctua-
tions que connaît l’état des herbes qui couvrent les
aires de feux, elle n’affecte qu’imperceptiblement
les arbres des bois sacrés, au feuillage toujours vert.
Ces contrastes écologiques se doublent d’autres op-
positions qui portent sur les pratiques rituelles dont
ces deux sites font l’objet : à la protection sans faille
qui entoure les bois sacrés (notamment contre le
feu) s’oppose, on l’a vu, au moment rituellement
opportun, l’obligation d’incendier, une fois l’an, les
aires de feu. Enfin, dans les cas où les prescriptions
rituelles attachées à chacun de ces sites sont les plus
affirmées, on constate qu’elles imposent, pour une
journée chaque année, la mobilisation d’un nombre
important de personnes engagées dans une activité
essentielle : la constitution du pare-feu qui doit en-
tourer le bois sacré dans un cas, la chasse collective
qui accompagne la mise à feu de l’aire rituelle dans
l’autre. Si ces mobilisations autour d’une activité si
fortement associée au site considéré ont pour point
commun de réactiver les liens sociaux au sein d’une
communauté, elles le font à des échelles différentes
et sous des formes opposées. La constitution du
pare-feu autour d’un bois sacré concerne tous les
membres du clan possesseur, mais eux seuls, tandis
que la chasse associée au feu rituel intéresse tous
les habitants du village. Surtout, alors que cette
activité emblématique prend la forme d’un dur la-
beur dans le premier cas, elle revêt dans le second
celle d’un divertissement d’autant plus festif qu’il
s’accompagne, du moins dans les années fastes,
d’abondantes prises de gibier.
Il est donc clair que des sites sacrés qui pou-
vaient paraître sans rapport l’un avec l’autre quant
à leur caractère “naturel”, sont en fait perçus, par
ceux qui ont à les gérer, comme participant d’une
même logique d’ensemble, parfaitement articulée.
Les niveaux sur lesquels repose cette logique sont
multiples. Nous reviendrons sur le sens général à
lui donner. Observons pour le moment qu’elle ap-
paraît fondée sur une appréhension proche de celle
qui est aujourd’hui admise par la plupart des éco-
logues spécialisés dans l’étude des milieux de sa-
vane. En premier lieu, les deux types de sites ne
s’opposent pas quant à leur degré de “naturalité” :
4ntfi
lroPos 101.2006
416
Stéphan Dugast
aucun des deux n’est ni plus ni moins “naturel” que
l’autre. En second lieu, ils ont tous deux, à l’ori-
gine, des caractéristiques naturelles qui leur sont
spécifiques (celles qui, de longue date, ont attiré
l’attention des Bwaba, selon le principe de sélection
mentionné plus haut et qui est le point de départ
de la constitution de leur système de représentation
du milieu naturel) et, sur la base de ces caractéris-
tiques naturelles spécifiques, les pratiques rituelles
mises en œuvre ont seulement pour effet d’orienter
plus encore les écologies respectives de ces sites
vers des faciès qu’elles présentaient déjà à l’origine
(zone herbeuse dans un cas, boisée dans l’autre).
Au terme de quoi, on aboutit à une vision que
ne renieraient pas des écologues : aucun des deux
types de milieux n’est véritablement plus naturel
que l’autre, il y a simplement, dans les deux cas,
une action, directe ou indirecte, sur leur composi-
tion végétale, et ce au moyen d’un même facteur,
le feu, manipulé différemment (régulièrement pro-
voqué dans un cas, systématiquement écarté dans
l’autre), et dont l’effet est tout au plus de renforcer
des caractères écologiques distinctifs déjà présents
à l’origine.
Mais une telle vision n’épuise pas la logique
qui conduit les Bwaba à considérer comme simi-
laires, du point de vue de leur statut plus ou moins
“naturel”, ces deux types de sites ; elle en consti-
tue simplement le socle. Pour mieux cerner cette
logique commune à la gestion des bois sacrés et
à celle des aires de feu, il nous faut revenir sur
la question de leur insertion dans une catégorie
de sites si large qu’elle inclut majoritairement des
lieux dont la composante naturelle n’est ni aména-
gée ni modifiée (grottes ou cavités, collines, etc.).
En effet, pourquoi la reconnaissance de pratiques
susceptibles de modifier l’état naturel du site consi-
déré ne conduit-elle pas les Bwaba à distinguer ces
deux types et à en faire une catégorie à part ?
Deux réponses logiques paraissent possibles ;
soit parce que les altérations subies par le milieu
paraissent mineures et non significatives, soit parce
que les autres sites considérés ne sont pas, eux
non plus, perçus comme véritablement naturels en
dépit du fait que leur substrat naturel est, dans
ce cas, maintenu intact. La position adoptée par
les Bwaba combine, dans une certaine mesure, les
deux réponses.
En premier lieu, il semble en effet que les Bwaba
considèrent que les modifications opérées sur le
couvert végétal des deux types de sites restent mo-
destes. Après tout, elles n’ont d’autre effet que
de faire ressortir plus nettement des physionomies
végétales déjà typiques. De ce point de vue, bois
sacrés et aires de feu n’en ont que davantage leur
place dans un ensemble de sites qui, parce qu’ils
ont en commun d’associer un élément caractéris-
tique du milieu naturel avec les génies qui y ré-
sident, constituent pour les Bwaba autant de réfé-
rents essentiels dans leur représentation des diffé-
rentes facettes de leur milieu naturel. En somme,
dans cette perception systémique, chacun de ces
sites apparaît d’abord comme un moyen d’exercer
une certaine emprise conceptuelle et rituelle sur
l’élément du milieu naturel qu’il désigne, et les
bois sacrés comme les aires de feu contribuent à cet
objectif. L’existence ou non de pratiques tendant à
agir sur la gestion de leur composition végétale est
comparativement secondaire par rapport à la ques-
tion essentielle pour les Bwaba : la caractérisation
de sites dont on attend qu’ils présentent au mieux,
de façon la plus accusée et donc la plus significative
possible, les traits distinctifs des types de faciès
jugés dignes d’intérêt.
La pertinence de cette propriété commune aux
yeux des Bwaba se confirme lorsque l’on cherche
à aborder la question de façon complémentaire, en
les interrogeant sur les raisons qui les poussent
à ne pas considérer comme franchement naturels
tous les sites dont la composante naturelle n’est
pas altérée. Ce n’est pas qu’ils se refusent à opérer
toute distinction entre des sites qu’ils considèrent
comme réellement naturels et d’autres qui le se-
raient moins, mais simplement qu’ils prennent pour
critère d’une telle distinction des éléments autres
que l’existence ou non d’une intervention suscep'
tible de modifier l’aspect naturel du site.
Pour les Bwaba, un site sacré véritablement na-
turel ne peut être que l’un de ces lieux dangereux et
donc évités, surtout à certaines heures particulières
du jour (comme les heures chaudes du milieu de D
journée, ou celles qui précèdent immédiatement la
tombée de la nuit), car peuplés par de mauvais gé-
nies qui ne cherchent aucun contact avec l’homme
en qui ils ne voient qu’un être susceptible de ve-
nir troubler leur quiétude. Les Bwaba qualifient de
tels sites de “lieux mauvais”, souvent révélés pat
la présence d’arbres particuliers, tels de vieux A/'
zelia africana. On retrouve donc ici l’association si
caractéristique entre un site marqué par une singu-
larité d’ordre naturel et la présence de génies d un
certain type, associés à cette singularité. La spécifi'
cité de ces lieux mauvais provient de ce qu’ils fou*
l’objet d’un évitement généralisé, et que, par consé-
quent, ils ne bénéficient d’aucune activité rituelle -
du moins tant que le cours des événements ne vient
rien modifier à cet état de choses.
L’histoire de certains villages comporte en et'
fet l’épisode de la maîtrise rituelle de l’un de ces
sites autrefois craints, maîtrise rendue soudain p°s'
101-2006
Anthropos
Des sites sacrés à incendier
417
sible par l’acquisition nouvelle d’une puissance in-
connue jusque-là. De tels récits témoignent de la
possibilité d’une appropriation rituelle de certains
sites restés jusque-là “sauvages”. En même temps,
ils nous révèlent que toute appropriation de cette
forme s’accompagne d’un changement de statut du
site considéré : ce lieu autrefois objet d’évitements
devient tout à coup fréquentable. C’est qu’il n’est
plus un lieu totalement naturel, il a subi une forme
de domestication par l’entremise de son appropria-
tion rituelle. Les esprits hostiles qui le peuplaient,
désormais apaisés et maîtrisés par l’action rituelle
des hommes, ne s’opposent plus à la fréquenta-
tion du lieu. Ce sont ces sites qui, avant “domes-
tication”, échappent à leur emprise rituelle que les
Bwaba considèrent comme véritablement naturels.
Tous les autres lieux que nous serions tentés de qua-
lifier de “naturels”, dès lors qu’ils ont fait l’objet
d’une certaine maîtrise par le truchement du rituel,
ne le sont déjà plus tout à fait aux yeux des Bwaba.
Us sont en effet, au moins partiellement, appropriés
Par l’homme et ont perdu comme tels, en grande
Partie, leur caractère naturel.
Mais pas totalement. Il ne faut pas oublier en
effet que le propre de la classe de sites qui nous
mtéressent est d’être composée de lieux d’abord
sélectionnés en raison du caractère exemplaire de
leur substrat naturel. Tous ces sites ont en commun
non seulement d’être représentatifs d’un aspect par-
ticulier du milieu naturel, mais aussi de faire l’ob-
Jct, à ce titre, d’un traitement rituel approprié. Que
Ce traitement inclue ou non une intervention sus-
Ceptible d’agir sur l’équilibre écologique du site
concerné semble, on Ta vu, de peu d’importance,
^lais pas seulement pour les raisons déjà évoquées.
Pour les Bwaba en effet, une telle intervention
n est pas le fait délibéré des hommes, elle est sus-
Cltée par le milieu lui-même, comme déjà inscrite
en creux dans sa composition végétale. Ainsi, ils
affirment que les aires de feux rituels ne sont pas
localisées de façon arbitraire, mais sur des sites
Tû, dans une certaine mesure, s’y prêtent naturel-
lernent, c’est-à-dire du point de vue de leurs ca-
ractéristiques naturelles, et notamment végétales :
orsqu’on observe une grande étendue herbeuse dé-
pourvue d’arbres, “il faut savoir,” disent les Bwaba,
fiu’un tel endroit appelle le feu, c’est un endroit
Tu a été choisi par Dieu pour brûler chaque an-
Uee”4 £ette vocation à brûler transparaît à travers
e nombreux faits. Il est dit, dans certaines tradi-
U°ns, que la révélation d’un tel lieu sacré, avec ce
type d’exigences vis-à-vis du feu, a été faite aux
a Là encore, on retrouve des propos étonnamment proches de
C£ux que pourrait tenir un naturaliste.
^nthr
ancêtres suite à l’apparition répétée de petits feux
nocturnes dans la zone concernée. Ce phénomène
étrange, et à certains égards inquiétant, ayant in-
cité les aïeux à faire une consultation divinatoire,
ceux-ci apprirent qu’ils étaient élus par le lieu pour
en devenir les gardiens rituels, charge incluant no-
tamment l’obligation de brûler le site chaque an-
née. Cette affinité avec l’incendie, les Bwaba ne
l’évoquent pas seulement à propos de ces circons-
tances initiales de la découverte du site. Il n’est pas
rare d’entendre un responsable rituel d’une aire de
feu confier que, à l’approche de la date capitale, il
voit en rêve le site être la proie des flammes : il
sait alors que ce dernier réclame son feu. On dit
encore que toute réticence du site à brûler (lorsque,
par exemple, au moment de la mise à feu, le respon-
sable rituel éprouve certaines difficultés à enflam-
mer la bourre de kapok de son briquet traditionnel)
doit être interprétée comme le signe d’un mécon-
tentement profond de la part des génies proprié-
taires du lieu. Là encore, consultation divinatoire et
sacrifices de réparation seront de rigueur. Enfin, la
manière même dont le site brûle est attentivement
observée : si le feu se propage avec une force et une
violence jugées excessives, plus encore s’il blesse
quelqu’un, une consultation, à nouveau, sera néces-
saire.
Dans le cas des bois sacrés, de façon à la fois
semblable et opposée, c’est une consultation divi-
natoire (ou, dans certains récits, une rencontre entre
l’ancêtre du groupe et l’un des génies du lieu) qui
révèle aux hommes d’un certain clan qu’ils devront
veiller à ce qu’aucun prélèvement de bois ne soit
opéré sur un lieu arboré, qui dès lors deviendra leur
bosquet sacré.5
On peut donc déduire de ces considérations que
les types de sites sacrés qui nous intéressent ici,
s’ils ne sont pleinement naturels ni d’un point de
vue objectif ni du point de vue des Bwaba, ont
néanmoins partie liée avec le naturel. Les pratiques
mises en œuvre dans la gestion de ces sites ont
certes pour effet de façonner quelque peu leur éco-
logie, mais ce façonnage ne fait en somme que ren-
forcer des caractéristiques déjà présentes. Pourquoi
alors tenir si scrupuleusement à orienter le milieu
5 Sur la question de l’origine de la formation d’un bosquet
sacré, il peut arriver, comme dans l’exemple de la société
koukouya du Congo (Guillot 1980), que le lieu corresponde
à un ancien habitat, la végétation ayant d’abord profité non
seulement de la protection de l’homme, mais également
d’une sélection, même inconsciente, des graines rejetées
en périphérie des habitations. Il va sans dire qu’une telle
formation végétale n’a alors rien d’une relique de forêt
primaire, et que son caractère naturel est par conséquent
sujet à caution.
'«Pos 101.2006
418
Stéphan Dugast
dans une direction qu’il a déjà prise de lui-même ?
C’est là où il nous faut revenir à l’une de nos ob-
servations initiales, à savoir que ces différents sites
ne doivent pas être considérés isolément, mais les
uns par rapport aux autres. En orientant l’écolo-
gie de ces sites vers des situations plus contras-
tées encore que celles qu’ils présentaient originel-
lement, les Bwaba les rendent en quelque sorte en-
core “meilleures à penser” (pour reprendre, en la
transformant, une célèbre formule de Lévi-Strauss).
“Meilleures à penser” en elles-mêmes, mais égale-
ment “meilleures à penser” le milieu naturel en ses
différentes facettes et, au-delà, ses relations avec le
monde des hommes. Car ce qui est enjeu dans cette
différenciation accentuée des éléments qui com-
posent ce système, c’est bien la mise en place d’un
dispositif qui permette de mieux appréhender d’une
part le milieu naturel dans sa diversité et d’autre
part les rapports qu’il entretient avec la société des
hommes. Dans le cas des sites qui, tels les bois
sacrés et les aires de feu, font en outre l’objet de
pratiques susceptibles d’agir sur l’équilibre de leur
couvert végétal, s’adjoint un trait supplémentaire
particulier. Les caractéristiques naturelles ne sont
pas seules pertinentes mais doivent y être ajoutées
ces pratiques qui, aux yeux des Bwaba, leur sont
étroitement associées. Type de couvert végétal et
type d’action rituelle sont ainsi indissolublement
liées dans une même caractéristique distinctive du
site considéré.
Une telle conclusion ne constitue qu’une pre-
mière étape dans notre réflexion. Le grand soin
pris par les Bwaba dans l’exécution des prescrip-
tions rituelles qui sont attachées à ces sites suggère
déjà que, pour eux, s’approprier conceptuellement
le milieu naturel n’est pas une fin en soi. En effet, il
y a un surcroît de recommandations et de prescrip-
tions attachées à chacun de ces sites par rapport à
ce que serait l’objectif de ces pratiques s’il s’agis-
sait simplement de renforcer les spécificités du site
en matière de couverture végétale. Pourquoi, par
exemple, déclarer que toute personne qui mettrait le
feu en dehors du cadre strict des conditions rituelles
à remplir serait frappée de mort ? La physionomie
du site ne souffrirait en rien qu’une personne autre
que le responsable rituel prenne l’initiative d’incen-
dier le lieu, ou que cette action soit opérée à une
date légèrement décalée par rapport à celle fixée par
le calendrier cérémoniel.
En réalité, si les Bwaba ont besoin d’appréhen-
der ce milieu dans la diversité de ses composantes,
et de faire simultanément jouer les prescriptions
rituelles qui leur sont attachées, c’est que les en-
sembles ainsi constitués leur servent de référents
au moyen desquels ils peuvent avoir prise sur un
domaine qui les touche de plus près encore que
l’environnement naturel dont ils dépendent. Pour
faire apparaître quel est ce domaine, et quel enjeu
il représente pour les Bwaba, il faut entreprendre
un examen plus approfondi de ces prescriptions ri-
tuelles attachées à chacun de ces sites. Nous nous
en tiendrons ici aux deux types de sites qui ont
retenu principalement notre attention.
Signification des prescriptions rituelles
entourant les bois sacrés et les feux rituels
Examinons ce qu’il en est de l’opération annuelle
de mise à feu d’une aire de brousse. Les Bwaba
disent qu’il s’agit d’un grand rituel de purification :
en consumant l’herbe qui couvre cette zone, le feu
chasse ou détruit les mauvais esprits qui hantent les
abords du village. Il opère également, mais cette
fois indirectement, une purification à l’intérieur du
village lui-même. Sur un plan général, on dit du feu
qu’il “nettoie” la place : débarrassée des herbes qui
la couvraient, celle-ci est désormais “propre”. Mais
certaines descriptions présentent de manière beau-
coup plus explicite la relation entre l’action du feu
et la destruction des esprits malfaisants ou encore
des sorciers. Cette action se prolonge par la parti-
cipation active des membres du village, intervenant
à l’occasion de la grande battue qui accompagne
immanquablement tout feu rituel de cette nature.
Parmi les animaux (principalement des rats et des
lapins) qui seront tués par les chasseurs, certains
passent pour être en réalité des incarnations de sor-
ciers venus de villages étrangers dans l’intention de
nuire à au moins l’un des membres de la commu-
nauté. Plus généralement, tous les animaux appelés
à périr ce jour-là, qu’ils fassent ou non partie des
précédents, sont considérés comme de “mauvais
animaux”, porteurs de mauvais présages. Ils s’op-
posent aux “bons animaux” que sont tous ceux qul
échappent aussi bien aux flammes qu’à la traque
des chasseurs. Car, dans ce travail d’élimination, Ie
feu et les habitants du village agissent de concert-
Tout animal (tels les criquets, que femmes et en-
fants viennent ramasser en grand nombre) qui périt
dans les flammes se révèle de ce fait même être un
mauvais animal, éliminé par l’action bienfaisant6
du feu. De même, tout gibier (tels les rongeurs, tra'
qués par les jeunes hommes équipés de pioches et
de gourdins) qui, fuyant les flammes, est néanmoins
tué par les chasseurs, révèle par ce seul destin qu 11
était un animal de mauvais augure. En revanche»
toutes les bêtes qui réussissent à s’échapper des
flammes et qui, trompant de surcroît la vigilant
des chasseurs, parviennent à se réfugier dans 1£S
101
.2006
Anthropos
Des sites sacrés à incendier
419
bosquets les plus proches ne doivent plus être pour-
chassées. Elles ont affiché, de ce seul fait, leur statut
d’animaux de bon augure : il faut donc leur lais-
ser la vie sauve car elles apporteront du bonheur
au village pour toute l’année à venir, c’est-à-dire
pour la période qui commence ce jour et qui s’étend
jusqu’au prochain feu, l’année suivante.
La grande purification opérée par le feu rituel
transparaît également à travers d’autres commen-
taires. On dit, dans certains villages, que le fait
de marcher dans les cendres laissées par le feu est
comme une bénédiction (dubye) pour tous les habi-
tants du village qui se sont rendus sur les lieux :
ils se constituent ainsi une protection contre les
agressions de divers ordres qui pourraient les me-
nacer au cours de l’année à venir. Enfin, une fois
la progression du feu arrivée à son terme sur l’aire
rituelle, celle-ci est censée se poursuivre de manière
invisible à l’intérieur du village où se prolonge son
action purificatrice : le parcours du feu dans les
ruelles et les cours provoque la destruction de tous
les éléments malfaisants qui pouvaient se trouver
a l’intérieur des limites de l’aire habitée. Enfin,
dans certains villages il est dit que, dans les trois
jours qui suivent la mise à feu de la zone rituelle,
ün grand vent souffle et emporte au loin tous les
résidus d’éléments mauvais qui pourraient encore
occuper les lieux.
Qu’en est-il des bois sacrés ? Généralement, les
Swaba déclarent que ce sont les lieux d’où sont
issus tous les membres des clans de la commu-
nauté villageoise, chaque clan se différenciant par
son lieu d’origine propre.6 C’est de là, nous dit-
on, que les femmes tiennent leur fécondité, c’est
do ce lieu que viennent les enfants qu’elles pro-
Créent. Sur ce plan, on retrouve des conceptions très
Proches de celles qu’a analysées Danouta Liberski-
Bagnoud (2002) chez les Kasena du sud du Burkina
Baso, à propos des “peaux de la terre”, instances
territoriales là aussi abritées dans des bois sacrés.
Be telles institutions ne sont du reste pas propres
6 Les bois sacrés dont il est question ici relèvent du second
type identifié par Michel Cartry dans son étude sur les
bois sacrés africains (1993). Cet auteur distingue les lieux
spécialement aménagés pour des écoles d’initiation, d’une
Part, des groupements d’arbres “appréhendés comme les vé-
ritables lieux de naissance de l’agglomération”, d’autre part.
Remarquons que les phénomènes observés par Guillot
quant à la formation des bosquets sacrés koukouya (cf. supra
n°te 5), où le fait que le site était autrefois un lieu d’habi-
tation joue un rôle prépondérant, font de tels bosquets des
beux tout indiqués pour désigner la source d’où certaines
unités sociales tirent leur origine et puisent l’essentiel des
forces qui leur assurent une reproduction continue et régu-
lière.
Anth
à cette ethnie puisque l’auteur en relève l’exis-
tence dans un vaste sous-ensemble de l’aire cultu-
relle voltaïque (Liberski-Bagnoud 2002 : 39-41).
Les Bwaba ne font pas partie de ce sous-ensemble,
mais certaines des propriétés qu’ils reconnaissent à
leurs bois sacrés sont similaires à celles qui caracté-
risent les “peaux de la terre” des Kasena. En parti-
culier, s’applique à leurs représentations en la ma-
tière l’essentiel des analyses de Liberski-Bagnoud
sur le rôle de ces instances dans la réactualisation
périodique de contacts avec le monde de l’origine,
lieu où se génèrent toutes les nouvelles semences,
naturelles comme humaines, destinées à féconder
le monde.
Dans certains cas, ce lien de consubstantialité
entre le bois et le clan est poussé plus loin : il est
ainsi affirmé que tout dommage causé aux végétaux
d’un tel site se traduit par une blessure comparable
qui affectera au moins l’un des membres du clan.
Il arrive même que l’on affirme qu’il y a autant
d’arbres dans le bois sacré que de ressortissants du
clan : à chaque naissance, un nouvel arbre pousse
dans le bois, à chaque décès, un arbre y meurt,
de sorte que les effectifs sont toujours rigoureuse-
ment identiques de part et d’autre. Certains quar-
tiers vont jusqu’à célébrer les funérailles d’un arbre
mort, d’une façon analogue à celle dont on procède
pour un membre humain du clan. De semblables
croyances existent également dans certains villages
à propos de poissons vivant dans des mares sa-
crées (notamment dans le village de Bondoukuy,
quartier Honakuy), ou encore de varans (Siin-Man).
On en retrouve également hors du pays bwa, mais
toujours dans l’aire voltaïque, chez diverses popu-
lations. Ainsi chez les Sisala (Rattray 1932) où,
de même que chez les Kasena (Liberski 1991 : 80,
n. 11 ; Liberski-Bagnoud 2002 : 44, n. 34), ce sont
des crocodiles qui sont considérés de la sorte. Chez
les Bassar du Togo, autre population voltaïque,
mais beaucoup plus éloignée, on trouve quelques
mentions similaires à propos de certains clans bien
particuliers. De telles croyances s’apparentent à
une forme africaine, et peut-être atténuée, du na-
gualisme bien connu des populations d’Amérique
centrale (Descola 1999 : 49 ; 2000 : 68 s.).
De façon plus répandue parmi les Bwaba, on
trouve la croyance en un lien similaire entre la com-
munauté humaine et la communauté des génies qui
occupe l’un des sites sacrés de celle-ci, sans que
la correspondance fasse intervenir de manière plus
concrète, pour chaque homme, un être qui prend la
forme d’un animal ou d’un arbre établi sur le site. Il
y a autant de génies sur le site qu’il y a d’habitants
dans le quartier, chaque membre de la section lo-
cale du clan ayant son correspondant parmi les gé-
'ropos 101.2006
420
Stéphan Dugast
nies (que certains qualifient parfois de “jumeau”).
Leurs vies suivent un cours parallèle : les deux êtres
naissent ensemble, se marient au même moment et
meurent quasi simultanément. Chacun de ces évé-
nements fait l’objet de festivités de part et d’autre,
de sorte qu’on dit parfois, notamment pour décrire
les particularités de l’un des sites sacrés du groupe,
qu’il arrive qu’on y entende de la musique de xylo-
phone (un instrument de musique omniprésent chez
les Bwaba), célébrant l’un de ces événements.
Quelles interprétations donner à ces représenta-
tions ? Et quelle part y prend l’étroite association
entre la physionomie végétale du site et les pres-
criptions rituelles qui y sont attachées ? Les aires
de feu et l’incendie rituel qui leur est associé se
révèlent former une entité au service d’une purifi-
cation annuelle nécessaire au maintien de la com-
munauté entière. Non seulement sur le plan des
représentations, qui, si elles étaient seules concer-
nées, seraient ainsi en quelque sorte désincarnées
car dissociées de la vie sociale ; par la mise en
œuvre de la grande battue, puis de la grande fête qui
accompagne chaque occurrence de ce rituel, le feu
annuel est pour les Bwaba la grande festivité de l’an
nouveau7 au cours de laquelle sont désamorcées
nombre de tensions sociales, comme dans tous les
grands rituels cathartiques. Et cet effet cathartique
est d’autant plus efficace qu’il est doublé d’une
représentation fortement ancrée dans les mentali-
tés selon laquelle une purification en profondeur
s’opère simultanément au plan surnaturel.
A la jonction des niveaux social et symbolique,
comme renforçant leur articulation, il y a ce fait
capital que la mise à feu de Faire rituelle se présente
d’emblée comme un rite d’inversion ; cette zone
qui, rappelons-le, devait, toute l’année durant, à
l’instar des bois sacrés, être scrupuleusement proté-
gée contre les feux se trouve soudainement, ce jour
précis, devoir être brûlée. En d’autres termes, ce qui
est interdit toute l’année (d’autant plus durement
que la sanction surnaturelle associée est sans appel,
ce qui, rappelons-le, n’est pas le cas pour les bois
sacrés) devient obligatoire ce jour-là. Ce renverse-
ment brutal n’est certes pas une inversion sociale
qui assignerait aux dominés, pour un temps, et de
façon théâtralisée, les positions des dominants, et
vice-versa,8 mais l’inversion symbolique et rituelle
qui est à l’œuvre a une portée tout aussi grande.
7 On trouvera une description vivante de cette festivité à
travers les belles pages que lui a consacrées Nazi Boni
(1962 : 181-187) dans son évocation nostalgique et roman-
cée du Bwamu de ses ancêtres.
8 Un exemple particulièrement saisissant de ce type d’inver-
sion sociale est celui présenté par Perrot (1967) à propos des
rites d’interrègne chez les Agni de Côte d’ivoire.
La différence est qu’elle opère globalement pour
tous les membres de la société, face à une obliga-
tion à laquelle tous, indistinctement, sont soumis.
L’effet de renforcement de la cohésion sociale est
ici atteint non par un renversement momentané des
hiérarchies usuelles qui ne pèsent que sur la frac-
tion dominée du groupe social, mais par la levée
subite d’un interdit qui concerne tous les membres
de la collectivité.9 La levée de cet interdit ne se
limite en effet pas à la soudaine permissivité quant
au fait d’incendier la zone, elle inclut également
la fréquentation par tous d’un lieu soigneusement
évité au cours des semaines précédentes par crainte
d’y déclencher accidentellement un incendie. Cette
libération soudaine de la tension sourde mais conti-
nue qu’instaure la formulation de tout interdit (ten-
sion renforcée ici par le fait que le risque est réel-
lement important sur de tels sites biologiquement
prédisposés à brûler, et qu’il est même croissant au
fur et à mesure que la saison sèche s’avance, alors
que l’on approche de la date de l’incendie rituel) est
amplifiée par l’excitation que provoque le spectacle
des flammes embrasant la plaine, la cohue des gens
rassemblés pour l’occasion et enfin la perspective
de ramener en abondance criquets ou gibier de fa-
çon à fêter dignement l’événement.
Un mot toutefois pour nuancer cette notion de
permissivité : s’il y a bien libération soudaine d’une
tension croissante au fil des jours, celle-ci ne s’en
réalise pas moins à l’intérieur d’un cadre étroite-
ment codifié. Seul est en droit de déclencher la
mise à feu le responsable rituel du site, et encore
- du moins dans certains villages -, à condition de
se munir d’une queue d’animal rituelle à laquelle
ont été faits, de même qu’aux ancêtres et au site
lui-même, les sacrifices requis. Une fois l’opéra-
tion effectuée, dès que la fumée sera visible, tous
les autres participants, dispersés dans toute Faire
rituelle où ils guettent ce signal, auront l’autorisa-
tion d’enflammer les autres parties du site. Ce qu’ils
9 Un autre exemple, intermédiaire entre le type même des rites
d’inversion sociale tel que celui des Agni et les phénomènes
comme celui décrit ici, est fourni par les Serer du Sénégal
(Dupire 1976:27 s.). Ces comportements prennent place,
curieusement, là aussi à l’occasion d’une chasse rituelle-
Mais, à l’inverse de l’exemple bwaba, les débordements n’en
visent pas moins les détenteurs des positions de pouvoir ■
“Les subordonnés mettent leurs dirigeants à l’épreuve” (27)-
Et c’est même le sens principal de l’interprétation qui est
donnée du phénomène : “Ces comportements cathartiqueS
doivent être interprétés comme une contestation non de U
société et de ses stratifications, mais de la compétence de
ses membres, à tous les échelons. La menace de destituti00
ou de destruction qu’ils contiennent est un garde-fou p°ul
l’ordre socio-politique. Ils permettent la liquidation des ten-
sions, condition nécessaire à la reconduction de l’harmom2
sociale et donc cosmique” (28).
Anthropos 1OI.2006
Des sites sacrés à incendier
421
feront avec un brusque sentiment de soulagement et
de libération.
Dans d’autres villages,10 le fait que, en dépit
du respect scrupuleux des prescriptions rituelles de
rigueur, la première mise à feu soit un acte qui n’a
rien perdu de son caractère transgressif transparaît
de façon manifeste dans le fait qu’on a recours à
la médiation d’un animal : un margouillat est cap-
turé, des herbes sèches sont attachées à ses reins,
celles-ci sont enflammées et le reptile est lâché
dans les herbes au milieu desquelles il s’enfuit, les
incendiant au passage. Il arrive que les gens pré-
sents soient alors tenus de battre des mains et de
crier, du plus fort qu’ils peuvent, à l’adresse du lieu
sacré, que “c’est le margouillat [et non le groupe
d’hommes présents] qui a mis le feu”. Mais, même
lorsque cette précision n’est pas apportée, dans tous
les villages où le recours à un tel tiers est men-
tionné, on le commente en évoquant la nécessité
de décharger la responsabilité de la mise à feu sur
l’animal, de façon à ne pas exposer la vie d’un
homme, celui qui ailleurs détient la charge rituelle
lui prescrivant d’incendier rituellement le site une
fois l’an, au moment fixé par le calendrier céré-
moniel. Cette explication, qui souligne donc la per-
manence du caractère transgressif de la mise à feu,
u’épuise pas l’interprétation de cette pratique.11
Paradoxalement, le recours à une telle décharge
de responsabilité est aussi une façon de rappeler
flue le feu est fondamentalement inscrit dans la vo-
cation du site. Ainsi, cette médiation du margouillat
Rendrait occuper une situation intermédiaire entre
divers autres cas (qu’il serait trop long de présenter
lci) qui vont des sites dont la vocation à brûler est
Sl forte qu’ils brûlent d’eux-mêmes (on dit parfois
que ce sont les génies du lieu qui y mettent le feu
lorsqu’ils jugent le moment propice) aux sites qui
0e sont incendiés que par l’intervention non média-
hsée de l’homme, mais néanmoins encadrée par un
lourd dispositif rituel.12
10 La pratique est loin de se limiter à la zone étudiée (partie sud
du pays bwa) puisqu’on l’observe dans plusieurs villages
des ethnies voisines, les sociétés de tout le sud-ouest du
Burkina Faso paraissant concernées. Plus largement, parmi
les populations de Faire culturelle voltaïque, on en trouve
certaines occurrences à plusieurs centaines de kilomètres au
sud-est, chez les Bassar du Togo où deux exemples m’ont
été signalés.
1 Laquelle, d’après mes enquêtes, est loin d’être généralisée,
niais concerne au moins deux zones du pays bwaba (on la
trouve dans d’autres populations également) : l’une, entre
Yaho et Bagassi, intéressant, outre ces deux villages, au
moins ceux de Mamou, Kahin et Yaramoko, l’autre autour
de Dédougou.
2 La dimension plus proprement symbolique et même my-
thique (cf. Capron et Traoré 1987) de l’intervention de ce
margouillat incendiaire mériterait elle aussi d’être analysée.
Anthropos 101.2006
Quelle que soit la forme qu’elles prennent loca-
lement, ces pratiques de mises à feu rituelles ont en
commun de procéder, à un moment précis de l’an-
née, à une vaste purification du territoire. A cette
logique de la purification annuelle, du renouveau
périodique, incarnée par les aires de feu, fait pen-
dant celle endossée par les bois sacrés : une logique
de la permanence dans le temps d’une unité consti-
tutive de la société, le clan. Car si les bois sacrés
apparaissent d’abord comme des lieux d’identité
clanique, tels des emblèmes de clans, ils inscrivent
également cette identité dans la durée, témoignant
de la survie du clan face au problème crucial de la
reproduction des générations.
Si telles sont bien les significations profondes
que les Bwaba attribuent à ces différents sites, pour-
quoi leur faut-il passer par des composantes bien
différenciées de la nature pour se représenter des
phénomènes qui, après tout, sont avant tout de por-
tée sociale ? Avoir prise sur les éléments qui com-
posent la nature, c’est entrer en contact avec des
entités puissantes car en relation avec les forces qui
animent le monde à ses débuts, des forces à l’ori-
gine de toute chose, des forces qui sont celles que
recèle tout potentiel. Les Bwaba ne pensent pas le
monde de la nature pour lui-même (ils ne sont pas,
de ce point de vue, des naturalistes), ils le pensent
comme un élément leur permettant d’agir sur (et de
penser) le monde social qui est le véritable objet
de leurs préoccupations. C’est d’ailleurs bien pour
cette raison qu’ils intègrent si facilement le feu, en
tant que pratique, à leurs Uni (aires de feu), l’inter-
diction de tout prélèvement à leurs bani (bois sa-
crés). Pour penser certains phénomènes essentiels
à la reproduction de leur organisation sociale, les
éléments du milieu naturel auxquels correspondent
ces sites sont nécessaires afin de puiser toute la
puissance que recèle la nature, en tant qu’opéra-
teur mental connotant ou représentant le monde de
l’origine ; mais leur portée sociale serait réduite si
leur appréhension se limitait à leurs seuls aspects
écologiques. En intégrant si fort les prescriptions
rituelles aux caractéristiques naturelles des sites
auxquelles elles se rapportent, les représentations
des Bwaba orientent résolument les qualités “na-
turelles” de ces sites vers une application sur le
plan social, et, simultanément, octroient à la portée
sociale de ces prescriptions une puissance démulti-
pliée provenant des forces issues de la nature.
Cette interprétation est-elle généralisable au-
delà de ces données bwaba ou ne repose-t-elle que
sur les particularités irréductibles des représenta-
tions culturelles de ce peuple ? Pour le mesurer, il
m’a semblé utile de comparer leur exemple à ce-
lui d’une autre société que j’ai également côtoyée
422
Stephan Dugast
longtemps, les Bassar du Togo. L’intérêt d’une telle
comparaison est bien sûr d’abord d’illustrer les
variations que peuvent présenter les phénomènes
dont il est question ici. Mais il est aussi de mon-
trer que, derrière ces variations, il existe quelques
constantes qui, comme telles, se révèlent fonda-
mentales. Enfin, une telle situation permet, une fois
identifiées ces constantes fondamentales, de revenir
sur la question des variations pour se demander en
quoi celles-ci ne sont pas, plutôt que la résultante de
choix culturels relativement arbitraires, le produit
de transformations régulières. Si tel est le cas, ces
dernières peuvent à leur tour se révéler riches d’en-
seignement sur le sens de certains rapports que des
sociétés africaines entretiennent avec leur milieu
par l’intermédiaire de certains sites sacrés naturels.
Les Bassar du Togo : l’intrusion
du pouvoir politique dans le domaine
des sites sacrés naturels
Situés à quelques centaines de kilomètres au sud-
est des Bwaba, dans un écosystème comparable
(correspondant aux franges sud de la savane à Iso-
berlinia doka, dont les Bwaba occupent la frange
nord), les Bassar relèvent du même vaste fonds
culturel puisqu’ils appartiennent eux aussi à l’aire
culturelle dite voltaïque.
Une première différence de taille apparaît ce-
pendant dans la confrontation des matériaux bas-
sar et bwaba. On ne relève pas, chez les Bassar,
de typologie comparable à celle en vigueur chez
les Bwaba. En particulier, les noms propres attri-
bués aux différents sites sacrés “naturels” ne pré-
sentent pas cette récurrence si caractéristique qu’ils
ont chez les Bwaba. Plus largement, les Bassar ne
semblent pas aussi soucieux que les Bwaba d’éta-
blir une série de correspondances entre, d’une part,
des sites sacrés aux caractéristiques naturelles ty-
piques et, d’autre part, des propriétés déterminées.
Cette absence de typologie fondée sur la compo-
sante naturelle de leurs sites sacrés semble témoi-
gner d’un moindre intérêt porté aux relations entre
les différentes composantes du milieu naturel. C’est
en tout cas le signe d’une moindre conceptualisa-
tion de ces différences et des relations dont elles
sont le support. La vision systémique contenue
dans la série des sites sacrés bwaba fait ici défaut.
Vraie dans sa formulation générale, cette propo-
sition doit être nuancée s’agissant des bois sacrés
et des aires de feu rituel. Ces deux entités font
exception puisque, comme les Bwaba, les Bassar
les mettent en relation. Mais ils le font sous des
formes sensiblement différentes. En premier lieu,
cette relation ne fait pas chez eux l’objet de com-
mentaires aussi explicites que chez les Bwaba. Ici,
pas de discours qui porteraient directement sur les
propriétés naturelles des sites considérés, et qui en
outre leur donneraient une portée générale, traitant
des bois sacrés et des aires de feu comme de deux
catégories génériques, pouvant se référer indiffé-
remment à n’importe quel site particulier dès lors
qu’il entre dans l’une de ces deux catégories. C’est
que, chez les Bassar, la relation entre bois sacré
et aire de feu est beaucoup plus concrète. Dans
l’exemple que je vais prendre, elle ne concerne que
deux sites bien déterminés, et le contexte dans le-
quel elle prend forme lui interdit d’être générali-
sée à d’autres sites relevant des mêmes catégories.
En effet, le discours de portée assez générale des
Bwaba cède ici la place à une inscription au cœur
d’un dispositif rituel fort complexe, et qui dépasse
d’emblée la question de la perception du milieu na-
turel ; le système rituel qui encadre l’institution po-
litique centrale dans cette société, celle de la cheffe-
rie rituelle. Dans ce cadre, si l’opposition entre bois
sacré et aire de feu est plus implicite que chez les
Bwaba, elle en présente en revanche un caractère
plus systématique, car travaillée par la logique du
rituel, laquelle est toujours de consolider et d’exa-
cerber les articulations pertinentes. S’agissant en
outre d’un dispositif rituel de grande envergure, ce-
lui de la chefferie, l’effet n’en est que plus net.
Précisons que l’expression “chefferie rituelle” se
veut ici significativement différente de celle, plus
usuelle, de “royauté sacrée” : il s’agit à mon sens de
deux types d’institution qui, bien que très proches
dans leurs fondements généraux, diffèrent sur un
certain nombre de points très significatifs, qui im-
posent de reconnaître là deux modèles différents
d’institutions politico-rituelles. Pour s’en tenir aux
principales de ces différences, on peut noter que,
alors que dans le modèle à royauté sacrée, le sou-
verain assure par sa vigueur physique la prospérité
de son royaume et doit théoriquement être mis a
mort rituellement soit dès que sa santé donne des
signes de fléchissement, soit au terme d’une duree
fixée à l’avance, à moins qu’une calamité naturel!6
ne vienne précipiter son trépas en faisant la de-
monstration de la perte de son pouvoir, au confiait6’
dans le modèle à chefferie rituelle, le détenteur de
la fonction suprême n’est jamais mis à mort car Ü
n’incarne pas, dans son corps, la vigueur des forces
germinatives qui assurent le bien-être de la popuD'
tion dont il est le chef. Selon un principe totalement
inversé par rapport au modèle à royauté sacrée,
souhaite même que le chef soit rapidement affai-
bli par diverses maladies, car c’est alors le signe
qu’il accomplit loyalement, et avec toute l’effica'
101.2006
Anthropos
Des sites sacrés à incendier
423
cité attendue, la fonction pour laquelle il a été in-
tronisé : celle d’attirer sur sa personne l’essentiel
des calamités qui, autrement, seraient susceptibles
de s’abattre sur sa population.13
A Bassar, le bois sacré qui joue un rôle dans
l’institution de cette chefferie particulière est réel-
lement imposant. Il est si vaste qu’il figure, bien
visible, sur la carte I. G. N. de la région. L’interdit
de prélèvement est naturellement rigoureusement
respecté - il se trouve toujours, dans les parages,
l’un des ressortissants du clan du chef pour veiller
à ce qu’aucun étranger ne s’approche de ce lieu -
et celui relatif au feu est plus strictement observé
encore : chaque année, tous les membres du clan
" de loin le plus étendu de l’agglomération de Bas-
sar, à l’image d’ailleurs de la dimension du bois
sacré qui lui est associé - sont convoqués pour par-
ticiper à la mise en place du pare-feu qui entoure
le bois. C’est un travail considérable qui est en
rnême temps une occasion importante de renouer
les liens entre les différentes composantes du clan,
dispersées entre plusieurs quartiers ; à cet égard, il
8 agit d’une véritable “revigoration” des rapports
s°ciaux internes au clan, laquelle, très symbolique-
ment, se fait simultanément au tracé renouvelé des
contours du bois, emblème du clan. Cette activité
est conduite juste avant la grande cérémonie an-
nuelle qui a pour théâtre le bois sacré : la libation
Dtuelle de la bière obtenue à partir des prémices du
s°rgho. Cérémonie essentielle en ce que, par l’of-
frande de ces prémices, une nouvelle vigueur est
msufflée à la puissance qu’abrite le bois sacré. La
confection du pare-feu est par conséquent une acti-
Vlté qui, à la fois, prépare et opère directement une
revigoration à différents niveaux : celui du groupe
s°cial associé à ce bois sacré, celui du bois sacré qui
abrite la puissance et, enfin, celui de cette puissance
efie-même.
Alors que, lorsqu’elles existent chez les Bwaba,
telles pratiques de mise en place d’un pare-feu
s°nt le prétexte à des commentaires sur le caractère
systématique des relations d’opposition entre bois
Sacrés et aires de feu, elles sont, dans l’exemple
PDs chez les Bassar, le point de départ d’un ré-
Cl1 historico-mythique où de telles relations, jamais
exPrimées ouvertement, sont néanmoins inscrites
13 '
fa distinction entre les deux modèles est exposée en détail
^ans ma thèse (Dugast 1992:840-851), où l’on trouvera
paiement une nouvelle lecture de certains exemples clas-
Slques considérés jusque-là comme d’authentiques royautés
sacrées, mais qui, à la lumière de cette distinction, appa-
raissent en fait relever du second modèle, celui à chefferie
rouelle. L’exemple bassar dont il est question ici relève de
Ce second modèle.
dans l’architecture du récit. Comme avec tout ré-
cit à teneur mythique, on a affaire à un matériel
à forte teneur symbolique plus qu’à un ensemble
de représentations conscientes et explicites. Avec,
là aussi, pour conséquence, le fait que les articula-
tions pertinentes prennent un caractère encore plus
systématique.
Il fut un temps, dit ce récit, où les membres
de l’une des fractions du clan du chef mettaient
une mauvaise volonté évidente à faire leur part de
travail dans la réalisation du pare-feu autour du
bois sacré. Cela finit par agacer quelques-uns des
autres ressortissants du clan. Un jour, l’un d’eux
usa de sa puissance magique pour installer la lèpre
sur la pierre sur laquelle le doyen de la fraction
récalcitrante avait l’habitude de s’asseoir. Mais cet
homme était lui aussi “puissant”, et, lorsqu’il arriva
sur les lieux, il fit usage de sa “clairvoyance” pour
déjouer le piège qu’on lui avait tendu. Après quoi,
de colère, il déclara que lui et les siens pouvaient
fort bien se passer de la protection de l’instance
associée au bois sacré, qu’ils avaient eux-mêmes
la leur propre avec le site sacré qui lui correspond
et qu’ils pouvaient parfaitement s’en contenter. De
là est venue, dit le récit en guise de conclusion, la
scission entre ce groupe autrefois membre du clan
du chef et les autres composantes toujours intégrées
à ce clan.
On peut voir à travers ce récit que, comme chez
les Bwaba, un bois sacré est un marqueur de l’iden-
tité d’un clan puisque la dissidence de l’une de ses
fractions est exprimée au moyen d’une dispute cen-
trée sur la question de l’entretien de ce site. Mais
la portée de ce récit est plus grande encore : il
traite parallèlement de la relation entre bois sacré
et aire de feu rituel. En effet, le site sacré auquel le
doyen de la fraction dissidente fait référence n’est
autre que celui où sont pratiqués les feux rituels.
Ce personnage abandonne donc le bois sacré, em-
blème de tout le clan, suite au manque d’ardeur que
manifestent les siens à constituer la protection de
ce site contre les feux de brousse, suite également
à l’attaque dont il a fait l’objet, qui lui destinait la
lèpre, cette maladie que les Bassar associent très
étroitement au feu,14 et il fait le choix de concentrer
ses activités rituelles autour d’un autre site sacré,
entièrement voué au feu celui-là.15 On ne saurait
insister davantage sur la question centrale du feu
comme étant celle au cœur de la relation entre le
14 Les rapports symboliques entre lèpre et feu dans le symbo-
lisme bassar sont présentés et analysés dans d’autres travaux
(Dugast 1992 : 416-430 ; 1996 : 178).
15 Vocation à brûler qui, comme chez les Bwaba, s’est mani-
festée aux ancêtres par des feux nocturnes intempestifs.
Vh
lroPos 101.2006
424
Stéphan Dugast
bois sacré et l’aire de feu. Si le contexte bassar
ne nous laisse d’autre choix que de passer par la
structure symbolique de récits dont le message le
plus apparent concerne moins les caractéristiques
des sites eux-mêmes que les rapports entre certains
groupes sociaux, de surcroît bien déterminés, on
retrouve néanmoins des représentations proches de
celles dont les Bwaba se font les commentateurs
explicites. On pressent déjà que les représentations
bassar, nécessitant des lectures plus indirectes, ont
également la particularité d’associer indissoluble-
ment en un seul discours des considérations por-
tant à la fois sur les caractéristiques écologiques de
leurs sites sacrés et sur les portées sociologiques
des interactions de ces sites avec les composantes
de la société.
Mais poursuivons l’exploration. L’essentiel des
rapports entre les deux sites sacrés se révèle à l’oc-
casion des rites qui assurent le fonctionnement de
la chefferie au cours des différentes périodes du
règne d’un chef. Lors de son intronisation, le chef
est au mieux de sa forme physique, il est également
en possession de tous les instruments, notamment
rituels, qui lui permettront de mener à bien sa tâche,
laquelle consiste à détourner de la localité dont il
est le souverain toutes les menaces qui planent sur
elle. Il est intronisé en un premier lieu sacré, sur
lequel, faute de place, je ne m’étendrai pas. C’est
la suite et le terme de son règne qui doivent retenir
notre attention ici. Le chef, dont les cheveux ont
été rasés au moment de son intronisation, ne doit
plus se les faire couper pendant toute la première
partie de son règne. Lorsque sa tignasse atteint
un volume imposant, il doit se rendre auprès d’un
deuxième site sacré, qui n’est autre que l’aire de
feu, où il demande humblement aux responsables
de ce site de bien vouloir lui raser la tête. A ce
stade de son règne, le chef est censé être fatigué,
usé par la lutte incessante qu’il aura eue à mener
pour détourner de sa population les calamités qui
la menaçaient. Une grande partie de la souillure
captée au cours de ce travail épuisant et dangereux
est censée s’être accumulée dans ses cheveux. C’est
pourquoi la coupe des cheveux du chef n’est pas
une opération qui peut être menée à la légère. Elle
est donc confiée aux responsables coutumiers du
second site sacré que rencontre un chef au cours
de son règne, le site des feux rituels. Car, en même
temps que le chef est rasé, le feu doit être mis
sur l’aire rituelle. Les deux opérations sont cen-
sées œuvrer de concert à la purification simultanée
du chef et de la ville. Comme chez les Bwaba, la
mise à feu de l’aire rituelle s’accompagne d’une
vaste battue, à laquelle est conviée toute la po-
pulation de l’agglomération, rituellement avisée la
veille.16 17 Après cette double purification, le chef,
revigoré, est paré pour entamer une nouvelle phase
de son règne. Il est à nouveau en mesure de détour-
ner les calamités de tous ordres qui menacent de
s’abattre sur sa population.
Mais ce répit est de courte durée. Malgré l’effi-
cacité du rite de revigoration que constitue la mise
à feu de l’aire rituelle combinée au rasage de la
tête du chef, ce dernier ne retrouve jamais la pleine
vigueur qu’il avait au commencement de son règne.
Peu à peu il s’affaiblit irrémédiablement et finit par
atteindre un tel état d’usure qu’il est sur le point de
disparaître. Chez les Bassar, la disparition d’un chef
est un événement qui fait l’objet de représentations
précises. Autrefois, dit-on, à l’époque où la chef-
ferie était encore souveraine et où par conséquent
les détenteurs du pouvoir étaient des chefs au sens
plein du terme, c’est-à-dire assumant jusqu’à leurs
ultimes conséquences toutes les charges qui leur in-
combaient, ils ne mouraient pas, ils disparaissaient
en s’enfonçant sous terre. Et une telle disparition ne
se produisait pas n’importe où, elle se réalisait dans
le bois sacré emblème du clan du chef déchu. C’est
que, parvenu au terme de son règne, un tel chef,
épuisé par le poids exorbitant de sa charge, n’était
plus en mesure de remplir le rôle pour lequel fi
avait été intronisé. Incapable désormais d’assurer la
protection de sa population face aux dangers qui la
menaçaient, il se révélait dans le même temps im-
puissant à s’extraire de ses relations claniques, liens
qu’il s’était efforcé de transcender durant toute la
durée de son règne, de façon à agir en chef digne
de ce nom, c’est-à-dire œuvrant pour le bien de
toute une agglomération et non seulement de son
clan. Désormais privé de toutes ces facultés excep-
tionnelles, il redevenait un simple ritualiste dont les
compétences restaient confinées à l’intérieur de son
clan et, à ce titre, sa disparition, devenue nécessaire»
ne pouvait se produire qu’au sein du bois sacré qul
est l’emblème de cette unité sociale. 7
Cette rapide présentation des matériaux bassar
montre que, en dépit de différences parfois imp°r'
16 Et, comme chez eux, l’opération est d’une telle importance
qu’elle doit être conduite dans les conditions et avec leS
acteurs requis, au moment fixé par les responsables rituels-
Une sanction surnaturelle, infligée par la puissance associe6
à l’aire de feu, viendrait frapper tout inconscient qui, Pal
mégarde, mettrait accidentellement le feu au lieu interdù-
Néanmoins cette fois la sanction n’est pas la mort, mais
lèpre. On retrouve donc cette association si forte dans
symbolisme bassar entre la lèpre et le feu.
17 Le lecteur qui souhaiterait prendre plus ample connaissance
de ces matériaux pourra se reporter aux passages de
thèse (Dugast 1992: 823-833) où ils sont plus abondai11
ment exposés. Une analyse enrichie et complémentaire
certains égards en a été proposée plus récemment (Duga
2004:235-242).
Anthropos 101-2006
Des sites sacrés à incendier
425
tantes, bois sacré et aire de feu présentent, dans
cette population, des caractéristiques analogues à
celles qui apparaissaient chez les Bwaba. Les bois
sacrés sont, chez les Bassar également, des mar-
queurs de l’identité clanique. Dans l’exemple qui a
retenu notre attention (le bois sacré du clan déten-
teur de la chefferie), ce trait ressort moins, comme
c’est si fréquemment le cas chez les Bwaba, à tra-
vers des représentations exprimant sans détours une
forte consubstantialité entre les membres d’un clan
et les arbres de leur bois sacré qu’à travers des élé-
ments indirects décelables dans les prescriptions ri-
tuelles ou encore dans des récits à teneur historico-
uiythique : l’obligation, d’abord, pour toutes les
fractions du clan, de participer chaque année au
travail de confection du pare-feu tout autour du
bois sacré, occasion majeure de resserrer les liens
mtraclaniques ; le récit, ensuite, de la dissidence
d’une section du clan qui, traitant de la question de
l’identité clanique, le fait au moyen de la référence
centrale que constitue dans ces affaires le bois sa-
cré ; les déclarations relatives à la disparition d’un
chef au terme de son règne, enfin, qui, elles aussi,
mais dans un contexte assez différent (celui d’un
Personnage très particulier en ce qu’il est censé
s’abstraire de ses liens claniques dès le moment où
ll est investi de sa charge exceptionnelle, mais y
est irrésistiblement ramené au fur et à mesure de
l’avancée de son règne), reprennent cette question
be l’identité clanique.
L’image d’une purification et d’un renouveau at-
tachée à la mise à feu périodique de l’aire rituelle
est elle aussi en vigueur chez les Bassar, où elle se
double même de la purification et de la revigoration
du corps du chef. En fait, il ne faudrait pas prendre
Ce dédoublement de l’idée de purification pour une
expression plus affirmée de celle-ci. Car, comme en
reponse à ce dédoublement, on note l’absence de
eornmentaires aussi descriptifs et imagés que ceux
eiüe produisent les Bwaba pour expliquer les effets
passage du feu en matière de purification. C’est,
eUcore une fois, que les Bassar n’ont pas élaboré
Un discours aussi explicite que celui des Bwaba ni
Sür les caractéristiques naturelles de leurs sites sa-
crés ni sur les effets attendus des pratiques rituelles
ciLl1 leur sont associées. Le défaut de commentaires
exPlicites est comme compensé (ou peut-être en-
mvé ?) par ia pius forte inscription dans une struc-
tUre rituelle.
Bwaba et Bassar : deux appréhensions
distinctes du milieu sur fond de perceptions
communes
L’importance des points communs entre Bwaba et
Bassar nous permet d’identifier comme constante
le fait que les bois sacrés tendent à incarner un
groupe humain, de type clan, dans sa pérennité,
tandis que de leur côté les feux rituels sont des
procédés visant à restaurer l’harmonie sociale, au
niveau de la communauté locale (village ou ag-
glomération) dans son ensemble, en jouant simul-
tanément sur les registres sociologique (à travers
un rite d’inversion au caractère festif) et symbo-
lique (exprimant une purification généralisée) afin
d’extirper les tensions de divers ordres accumu-
lées pendant une période déterminée, correspon-
dant en général à un cycle annuel. L’analyse des
différences, quant à elle, nous fournit, comme c’est
généralement le cas dans toute analyse compara-
tive, deux moyens complémentaires d’approfondir
l’interprétation. En premier lieu, en s’attachant à
lire chaque variante comme une illustration spéci-
fique d’une réalité sous-jacente commune, on s’ef-
force de déceler dans les particularités de chaque
exemple autant d’éléments susceptibles de rendre
plus explicites certaines des propriétés communes à
toutes les configurations examinées, mais peut-être
restées à l’état latent dans un grand nombre d’entre
elles. En second lieu, en gardant à l’esprit que, pour
une autre part, nombre des différences observées
ne relèvent pas de semblables expressions variées
d’une même réalité fondamentale, mais sont bien
des différences significatives, qui requièrent dès
lors une interprétation, on se donne les moyens à la
fois de rendre compte de la diversité observée sans
en réduire la richesse et d’élaborer un modèle plus
englobant à la portée explicative plus grande.
La première démarche, qui, bien que reposant
sur l’analyse des différences, complète en fait avant
tout l’interprétation des points communs, nous per-
met de préciser certains aspects peut-être passés
quelque peu inaperçus quant aux feux rituels. Ces
feux, avons-nous dit, œuvrent, chez les Bwaba
comme chez les Bassar, au déchargement des ten-
sions et au rétablissement de l’harmonie sociale, ce
par quoi ils s’articulent aux bois sacrés, qui, eux, in-
carnent la pérennité des unités sociales. L’exemple
bassar, avec ses spécificités dues au contexte parti-
culier de la chefferie rituelle, nous montre en outre
que le travail de restauration de l’harmonie, réalisé
au moyen des feux rituels, a un prix, et qu’il est une
lutte, toujours à recommencer, contre les forces de
désagrégation. C’est ce que rend particulièrement
explicite le cycle de l’état de santé du chef : af-
Amhr
'opos 101.2006
426
Stéphan Dugast
faiblissement progressif, suivi, après l’accomplis-
sement du rituel, du recouvrement de ses forces,
avant une nouvelle période d’affaiblissement, et
ainsi de suite, mais avec une irrésistible tendance
au dépérissement jusqu’à la disparition définitive
du souverain.
Cet appoint fourni par l’analyse du cas bassar
permet de faire un retour sur les caractéristiques
naturelles des sites sacrés considérés. L’opposition
entre dense concentration d’arbres et vaste éten-
due herbeuse se charge en effet d’un sens nou-
veau : elle connote, pour les intéressés, l’opposi-
tion entre le pérenne et l’éphémère, mais égale-
ment entre le stable et le cyclique. En effet, à la
différence des arbres dont la présence résiste au
cycle annuel et s’affirme même au fil des années,
les herbes, qu’elles soient annuelles ou vivaces,
donnent l’impression d’avoir disparu au cœur de
la saison sèche pour soudain réapparaître jusqu’à
proliférer avec l’entrée en vigueur de la saison des
pluies. Ce contraste est encore plus net s’agissant
des aires de feu rituel où, chaque année, au début
de la saison sèche, la strate herbacée est sévèrement
entamée par le feu, sinon pratiquement anéantie.
Si nous abordons maintenant le domaine des
différences proprement significatives, il nous faut
d’abord nous arrêter sur l’opposition majeure entre
les représentations, respectivement chez les Bwaba
et chez les Bassar, concernant les deux types de
sites sacrés. Qu’il s’agisse des bois sacrés ou des
aires de feu, nous avons décelé une distinction fon-
damentale entre un discours plutôt explicite chez
les Bwaba et des représentations plutôt inscrites
dans le rituel chez les Bassar, cette inscription ve-
nant comme masquer, ou entraver, l’explicitation
du discours. A moins que l’on ne considère que ce
sont plutôt les discours explicites des Bwaba qui
viennent suppléer la faiblesse, chez eux, des rituels
comme supports de leurs représentations. Mais il y
a plus derrière cette différence : l’inscription dans le
rituel si forte chez les Bassar concerne un complexe
très particulier, celui de la chefferie, ce qui n’est pas
anodin. Ce complexe a en effet pour objet de pla-
cer un personnage particulier, le chef, en position
d’intermédiaire entre la population dont il est le
souverain et le monde surnaturel dont il doit gérer
les forces. Ce que révèle la comparaison entre les
deux populations, c’est que cette position intermé-
diaire, le chef l’occupe également dans le domaine
des relations entre la société et le milieu naturel ;
mieux, il l’occupe aussi, même si c’est parfois en
creux, vis-à-vis des sites sacrés que nous avons
considérés. Chez les Bwaba en revanche, aucune
figure aussi fortement investie par le rituel ne vient
s’interposer entre les membres de la société et les
sites sacrés en rapport avec leur appréhension du
milieu. Cette différence est particulièrement bien
illustrée dans le domaine des représentations de la
purification produite par le feu.
Chez les Bwaba, c’est directement le feu qui
est censé agir sur les mauvais esprits, et des des-
criptions assez précises sur le parcours du feu et
ses effets purificateurs, très localisés et progressifs,
suivant une progression analogue à celle du feu réel
sur l’aire de feu sont fournies. En revanche, les
Bassar se soucient beaucoup moins de ces aspects
“concrets”. Ce qui leur importe, c’est que leur chef
soit à nouveau en mesure de faire face à toutes ses
obligations. On ne purifie pas directement le milieu
et le village, en chassant localement les mauvais es-
prits par le feu, on purifie avant tout le chef, et c’est
ce dernier qui, ensuite, se charge, seul, de traquer
les mauvais esprits.
Nous avons vu que les Bwaba liaient étroite-
ment les caractéristiques naturelles de leurs sites
sacrés aux prescriptions rituelles qui y sont atta-
chées. De cette façon, avons-nous dit, il se produit
une conjonction entre la puissance inégalable des
forces issues de la nature et la portée sociale des
injonctions rituelles. Les Bassar, qui n’ont pas une
même appréhension directe de la nature, ont besoin
de la figure centrale du chef pour atteindre le même
résultat. Là où les Bwaba produisent un discours
sans ambiguïté sur l’intimité de la relation qui unit,
autour d’un site donné, ses caractères écologiques
aux prescriptions rituelles dont il fait l’objet, les
Bassar s’en dispensent en se référant à la figure du
chef. C’est autour de ce personnage que se réalise,
indirectement, la synthèse nécessaire. Le chef y
contribue notamment en se soumettant aux rites que
lui impose sa charge et en adoptant une conduite
dictée par sa fonction. C’est par eux que son action
se trouve en prise avec les forces issues de la nature-
Des Bwaba aux Bassar, nous avons donc des
sites sacrés fort semblables, notamment en ce qu’Üs
associent étroitement des caractéristiques écolo-
giques d’un certain type à des prescriptions rituelles
d’un type correspondant, tout en attribuant à cha-
cun des ensembles ainsi formés des propriétés si-
milaires. Des sites sacrés qui ne sont pas à pr°'
prement parler naturels, mais dont le rapport à la
nature est central, aussi bien parce que ces sites sont
d’abord caractérisés par leur couvert végétal proche
de celui qu’ils avaient à l’origine, que parce que
les pratiques qui leur sont associées sont une com-
posante essentielle du sens que leur attribuent leS
populations qui les gèrent. L’efficacité symbolifiue
de ces sites sacrés repose ainsi précisément sur Ie
fait qu’ils sont en grande partie naturels tout on
ne l’étant pas pleinement. D’une société à l’autre»
101-2006
Anthropos
Des sites sacrés à incendier
427
cet aspect est constant, ce qui témoigne de son ca-
ractère fondamental pour les sociétés de savane de
l’Afrique de l’ouest. Les usages variés dont ces élé-
ments fondamentaux sont l’objet révèlent leurs pro-
priétés sémantiques : quel que soit le contexte dans
lequel ils prennent place, ils expriment toujours des
contraintes incontournables auxquelles ces sociétés
se sentent soumises.
Mais ces contraintes leur paraissent si essen-
tielles que la manière dont elles sont perçues, puis
gérées, soit directement (comme chez les Bwaba),
soit par la médiation d’un personnage sacrifié à
cette cause (comme chez les Bassar), neutralise
d’emblée ou au contraire porte en germe les condi-
tions d’un début de différenciation d’un pouvoir
politico-rituel centralisé. Dans cet enjeu de l’émer-
gence d’un tel pouvoir, bien d’autres éléments et
facteurs interviennent. Mais ceux que sont les sup-
ports des relations que les hommes entretiennent
avec certaines composantes de leur environnement
Y occupent une place de choix.
Références citées
honi, Nazi
1962 Crépuscule des temps anciens. Chronique du Bwamu.
Paris : Présence Africaine.
Capron, Jean, et Ambou Traoré
1987 Le grand jeu. Le mythe de création chez les Bwa-
Pwesya, Burkina Faso. Ouagadougou ; Université de
Ouagadougou ; Tours : Université de Tours.
Cartry, Michel
1993 Les bois sacrés des autres. Les faits africains. In : O.
de Cazanove et al., Les bois sacrés. Actes du Colloque
international, Naples, 23-25 Novembre 1989 ; pp. 193 —
208. (Collection du Centre Jean Bérard, 10)
f^scola, Philippe
1^99 Les natures sont dans la culture. Sciences humaines 23 :
46-49. [Hors-série]
2000 L’anthropologie et la question de la nature. In : M. Abé-
lès, L. Charles, H.-P. Jeudy et B. Kalaora (éds.), L’envi-
ronnement en perspective. Contextes et représentations
de l’environnement; pp. 61-83. Paris : L’Harmattan.
Dugast, Stéphan
1992 Rites et organisation sociale. L’agglomération de Bas-
sar au Nord-Togo. Paris. [Thèse de doctorat, École des
Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales]
1996 Meurtriers, jumeaux et devins. Trois variations sur le
thème du double (Bassar, Togo). Systèmes de pensée en
Afrique noire 14 : 175-209.
1998 Bosquets sacrés et feux rituels chez les Bwaba du Bur-
kina Faso. Éléments de comparaison avec les Bassar du
Togo. (Présenté au Symposium UNESCO “Les sites sa-
crés naturels”, Paris, 22-25/9/1998.)
2004 Une agglomération très rurale. Lien clanique et lien
territorial dans la ville de Bassar (Nord-Togo). Journal
des Africanistes 74 : 203-248.
Dupire, Marguerite
1976 Chasse rituelle, divination et reconduction de l’ordre
socio-politique chez les Serer du Sine (Sénégal).
L’Homme 16/1 : 5-32.
Guillot, Bernard
1980 La création et la destruction des bosquets koukouya,
symboles d’une civilisation et de son déclin. Cahiers
O.R.S.TO.M. 17 : 177-189. (Série Sciences Hu-
maines ; L’arbre en Afrique tropicale. La fonction et le
signe)
Liberski, Danouta
1991 Les dieux du territoire. Unité et morcellement de l’es-
pace en pays kasena (Burkina Faso). Paris. [Thèse de
doctorat, École Pratique des Hautes Études, Veme sec-
tion]
Liberski-Bagnoud, Danouta
2002 Les dieux du territoire. Penser autrement la généalogie.
Paris : C. N. R. S.
Perrot, Claude-Hélène
1967 Be di murua. Un rituel d’inversion sociale dans le
royaume agni de l’Indénié. Cahiers d’études africaines
7/27 : 434-443.
Rattray, R. S.
1932 The Tribes of the Ashanti Hinterland. 2 vols. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.
Anth
lropos 101.2006
ICboos
revue de la sodété stósse d'etSinoiogie
rivista della società svizzera d'etnologia
Zeitschrift der schweizerischen ethnologischen gesellschaft
tsantsa
DOSSIER
SCHULE - NATION - MIGRATION
ECOLE - SOCIETE - GLOBALISATION
Kathrin Oester und/et Elke-Nicole Kappus
Schule - Nation - Migration: Einführung /
Ecole - société - globalisation: introduction
Bradley A.U. Levinson Bringing in the citizen.
Culture, politics, and democracy in the US
anthropology of education
Anna Isabella Streissler «Nicht für die Schule,
für das Leben lernen wir». Das «hidden
curriculum» von Preparatorias in
Guadalajara, Mexiko
Melanie E L. Bush Social norms, racial narratives
and the mission of public education
Barbara Waldis Staatlich verordnete Scheu-
klappen. Das universalistische Prinzip in
Schulen von La Réunion
Michaela Heid Lebenswelt Klassenzimmer.
Überlegungen zur ethnographischen Methode
im Forschungsfeld Schule
Susanne Christina Jost «Wir machen grad die
Indianer, können wir einmal vorbeikommen?»
Das ethnographische Museum als ausser-
schuiischer Lernort. Reflexionen zu Popularität
und Popularisierung von Ethnologie
Agathe Lopez De 7 á 18 ans, les Ethnologues en
Herbe étudient leur quartier!
Ursula Bertels und Sabine Eylert Die Vermittlung
interkultureller Kompetenz in der Schule. Ein
ethnologischer Ansatz
Margrit E. Kaufmann «Mama lernt Deutsch». Ein
Deutschkurs als transkultureller Übergangsraum
RECHERCHES EN COURS / LAUFENDE FORSCHUNGEN
Guillaume Gladieux Cest avec tristesse... Le
«recueillement» dans un home des montagnes
neuchâteloises
Stefanie Granado Po/u - eine Metapher im
Alltag Abidjans (Côte d'Ivoire)
Hélène Martin Les métamorphoses d'un objet
de recherche anthropologique. Commerçantes
et artisanes indépendantes dans la région
d'Agadir
Alessandro Monsutti Beyond the boundaries.
A methodological perspective on Afghan
migratory networks in the Western countries
Alemmaya Mulugeta Resource based conflict
framing among the Kereyu in the Upper
and Middle Awash Valley of Ethiopia
Sandrine Tolivia Autour de la relance d'une pro-
duction. Entre la formation d'une communauté
de pratique et les dynamiques de sociabilité
Irina Wenk Bounded spaces of coexistence.
Land titling and settlers on indigenous
domains in Mindanao, the Philippines
ESSAIS EN ANTHROPOLOGIE VISUELLE/BILD-ESSAYS
David MacDougall Doon School Images
Sandra Carmen Re Quelques figures d'Afro-
Brésiliens dans la fête du bumba-meu-boi
Janine Dahinden, Martina Kamm und Anna Neubauer
Auswanderung und Rückkehr. Fotogeschichten
armenischer Migranten und Migrantinnen
COMPTES RENDUS/ REZENSIONEN
tsantsa (Jahreszeitschrift / revue annuelle)
Preis einer Ausgabe / Prix au numéro: 35.- CHE / 24,- EUR
Abonnement (3 Ausgaben / 3 numéros): 95.- CHE / 64.- EUR
Bitte kontaktieren Sie / Veuillez contacter: Seismo Verlag, Zähringerstrasse 26, CH-800T Zürich
ISSN 1420-7834 / ISBN 978-3-03777-010-8 www.seg-sse.ch
Anthropos
101.2006: 429-449
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
Spirit Possession, Sickness, and the Search for Wealth
of Nigerian Immigrant Women
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
Abstract. - Possession cults often proliferate during times of
dramatic social and cultural changes (colonisation, evangelisa-
hon, war, etc.). The transitional and collective meaning of this
Phenomenon received many interpretations. On the other hand,
not much attention was paid to the individual experience of
change, to doubt, and to contradictory attitudes often accom-
panying choices such as religious conversion or immigration.
This article addresses above all the following issues; 1) the re-
lationship between possession and modernity; 2) the logic of
Possession and its unique ability to metaphorically catch com-
plex and contradictory experiences; 3) the specific gender issues
displayed by the nexus immigration/prostitution market through
ihe female, possessed bodies; 4) the dialectics generated by
Possession among different idioms of daily life and embodied
experience. [Nigerian women, immigrant, Mammy Wata, pos-
Session, commoditisation of bodies, cultural identity, medical
anthropology ]
Roberto Beneduce, M. D., Ph. D. in Social Anthropology and
Jhnology (2000, EHESS, Paris), ethnopsychiatrist, professor of
uhural Anthropology and Psychological Anthropology, Uni-
ersity of Turin. He conducted field research in Mali (among
de Dogon) since 1988 until now; in Cameroon on traditional
|dedicine; at the Horn of Africa and in Mozambique he studied
e psychosocial impact of war on children and youth. He is
e founder of the Frantz Fanon Centre in Turin (1996). Recent
Publications include articles in Transcultural Psychiatry, Rivista
^daña di Antropología Medica, Anales de antropología, and
°Uvelle Revue d’Ethnopsychiatrie; see also References Cited.
^’Uiona Taliani, Ph. D. in Anthropology (2005, University of
rin), psychologist, lecturer in Cultural Anthropology, Uni-
rsity 0f Turin, Faculty of Psychology. She undertook field
search among the Bulu of Cameroon from 2001 onwards. Her
Ç • b>. thesis is on childhood, “belief” issues, and witchcraft in
K°uth Cameroon (in press). Publications include articles in La
lQerca folklórica and / Fogli di Oriss.
1 Possession in the Realm of Modernity,
Immigration, and Transnational Scenarios
In recent years, numerous works have looked at
possession in urban and migratory contexts: among
those pertinent to the African context are, for ex-
ample, that of Corin (1976) in the Democratic Re-
public of Congo, Gibbal (1982) in Mali, Sharp
(1993) in Madagascar, Somer and Saadon (2000)
amongst Tunisian immigrant women in Israel, and
the most outstanding work of all, that of Rouch on
the Hauka in Ghana (“Les maîtres fous,” a film shot
in Accra in 1954). Less numerous are studies con-
cerning the relationships between possession and
migration in Europe and, in particular, in Italy.1
However, it seems relevant to us to throw light
on these events and these connections, especially
when one wants to investigate possession in its rela-
tionships to modernity (Behrend and Luig 1999), to
the places and subjects of production (Ong 1987),
to the challenges of “millennial capitalism” (Co-
maroff and Comaroff 1999b, 2000), or the worrying
expressions of what have been defined as “occult
economics” (Comaroff and Comaroff 1999a). The
analysis of such an interweaving contributes to the
dissolution of those models which made possession
a unitary concept, a contrivance whose sense and
1 Among the former are: Adouane 2001-02; Capone et
Teisenhoffer 2001-02; Halloy 2001-02; among the latter
are: Speziale e Passalacqua 1998.
430
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
logic could be understood independently of other
processes equally conceived as unitary modes. Our
reflection starts from an opposite perspective. The
analyses of possession trance, both in the contexts
of origin and in migratory contexts, can be carried
out satisfactorily only by renouncing to talk about
possession “in the singular.” As many authors have
suggested, its expressions and meanings should be
seen as strictly embedded in the social and eco-
nomic dynamics of migration, globalisation, mar-
ket economics, and war conflicts. Dissolving the
conceptual unity of possession also means articu-
lating its logic in relationship to other “cultural”
phenomena, such as “witchcraft” or “traditional
medical systems.” In this way, possession becomes
itself the object of incessant redefinitions and ne-
gotiations through symbolic codes, which are often
contingent.
Our research began in 1997 at the Centro Frantz
Fanon in Turin,2 an ethnopsychiatrie centre that
offers support to foreign immigrants affected by
psychological illness. The connection between mi-
gratory events and spirit possession became appar-
ent when several women of Nigerian nationality
were referred to our centre by other services be-
cause of “bizarre” illnesses. We mostly dealt with
women of the Igbo and Edo ethnic groups (the lat-
ter coming from Benin City), who were involved
in prostitution in Italy. Their “bizarre” illnesses do
not lend themselves to being captured satisfactorily
by clinical diagnoses and they have “resisted” pre-
ceding therapeutic treatment. Once these women
were welcomed in an appropriate setting, they re-
counted (often in their mother tongue) their expe-
riences and especially their previous participation
in a possession cult well-known as Mammy Wata,
which is widely practiced throughout the Gulf of
Guinea and sub-Saharan Africa.3 What aroused our
interest were the constant references made by these
women to symptoms, sensations, or experiences
2 The Centro Interdisciplinare Frantz Fanon, founded in 1996,
provides services of psychotherapy and counselling for for-
eigners (immigrants, refugees, victims of torture). The clini-
cal work is carried out mainly with the participation of “eth-
noclinical mediators.” The languages used in the course of
the interviews and concerning this work are Italian, English,
Pidgin, Edo, and Igbo.
3 The women we have met have sometimes referred to
Mammy Wata with the name of Olokun (Lord of the ocean),
a divinity of the Yoruba pantheon. But, as reported by other
authors, the use of terms such as voodoo, juju, Olokun,
Mammy Wata, ogbanje, or igbakwan, etc. is extremely
fluid, and the meanings attributed to each of these terms
do not always coincide. See also Nevadomsky and Rosen
(1988: 187-189). The description of the spirit njuzu in Zim-
babwe reproduces more than a few traits of the iconography
of Mammy Wata (Reynolds 1996: 158).
which could be traced back to their condition as
possessed and to those signs which the priests of the
cults of Mammy Wata or the Edo oracles recognise
as characteristics of the intervention, of the pres-
ence or, more generically, of a bond with Mammy
Wata. Were we in the presence of a particular “id-
iom of suffering” or were these testimonies reveal-
ing other problems?
2 Embodied Paradox
The expression “order in paradox” - coined by
Holmberg (1989) to describe the role played in a
Nepalese society by rituals and shamanism - of-
fers us an evocative image to introduce our discus-
sion on possession: an image of a phenomenon still
placed within unresolved questions, that results in
a remarkable proliferation of paradigms, and that
is capable of generating paradoxes - in its ritual
expressions and in the life of the possessed - which
challenge the common interpretative models. The
theoretical difficulty and the interpretative uncer-
tainty in the debate on possession issue from at
least two presuppositions. The first one consists
in the resistance of many scholars to abandoning
concepts and terms derived from psychology and
psychiatry. Both disciplines often consider the pos-
session cults as a traditional practice essentially
localised in non-Western societies. Moreover, in the
attempt to outline the anatomy of trance or of trance
possession, psychiatry and psychology remain ob-
sessed by the desire to construct a typology that
includes all the variants, all its expressions, and
by the constraint to produce diagnostic categories
that in many cases (even when defined as culture-
bound) violate the local sense of these experiences,
and thus the knowledge on which they are founded-
The presumed phenomenal contiguity or the struc-
tural identity that some authors have suggested be-
tween dissociation, multiple personality disorders,
and possession,4 refers in turn to a field of research
where ambiguities have been the rule. This has been
documented in frequent diagnostic errors made by
clinicians both in Western and non-Western coun-
tries, which we ourselves have often witnessed-
In commenting the book “The World of Ogbanje
by Chinwe Achebe (1986), Ilechukwu (1991; 147)
remains “impressed,” like “any psychiatrist,” hy
the analogy traced by the author - “without be-
4 Ian Hacking’s observations on trances and multiple person'
alities and the transformation of essential characteristic 0
other cultures into “pathologies” are very pertinent to tin5
case too (1998; 230T).
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
431
ing aware of it” - between some psychiatric ill-
nesses (personality disorders, histrionic personal-
ity, mood disorder, borderline personality disorder,
or schizotype personality) and the characteristics of
ogbanje, a notion, which is closely connected to the
cult of Mammy Wata (see below). These analogies
between clinical categories and cultural categories
raise, once again, a common methodological prob-
lem. If indeed it is possible and useful to make
comparisons between culturally different manifes-
tations, these need to be drawn from the use of
transcultural methods, and not from the premises of
psychology or psychiatry alone. On the other hand,
the ambiguous frontiers of illness or cure, of evil or
“misfortune” in African society (Pool 1994), make
the comparison even more controversial. Here per-
haps are the roots of the second presupposition of
the origin of unresolved theoretical controversies
on the status of possession. In the 1960s Marie-
Cécile and Edmond Ortigues wrote:
The diviner, the hunter of witch doctors, the master of
nddp [the ceremony of possession celebrated among the
^olof and the Lebou of Senegal], know how to recognise
from certain signs if an individual has been “attacked” by
a witch, “worked” by a rival who uses methods of magic
0r “followed” by a rab. Under the effect of a syncretism
which does not spare even the ethnologists, one can at-
tempt to speak in this case of a traditional “diagnosis”
°f “illnesses” from the position of “healers” who use
healing rites.” Rather than attempting to understand a
religious vocabulary, we translate it into a vocabulary
°f a medical type which is apparently more respectable.
This médicalisation of the vocabulary has however some
^conveniences. It produces the confusion of genres ...
ar>d impedes our understanding of the concatenations
connecting one circumstance to another (Ortigues et Or-
gues 1984; 237 f.; our italics).
his analyses of the “stratagems of therapeutisa-
h°n,” Olivier de Sardan (1994) adopts a method-
logical perspective close to that of Ortigues. He
hnderlines the importance of an accurate linguistic
Analysis in order to avoid interpretative ambiguities
^at, for example, attribute a predominantly thera-
peutic purpose to the possession rituals. Moreover,
uhvier de Sardan refers to widely known ethno-
graphic data according to which “the prototype of
Possession” and “the cast of madness” represent
events that the adept never confuses. Almost fifty
jfoars ago, Métraux (1955) had already highlighted
1118 capacity to distinguish between the two classes
^ Phenomena. Similarly, de Martino had suggested
Pc elegant metaphor of the stairs to indicate how,
e^cn when the psychopathological and the cultural
Phenomenon meet on the same rung, their mean-
^nth
ings are very different and so are their destinations
(1977: 63).
Nevertheless, these widely shared warnings do
not solve the problem. What Ortigues called a “con-
fusion of genres” is not generated because the med-
ical vocabulary distorts what would be on the con-
trary a sequence of facts and experiences belonging
to the religious order, but rather because there is an
irreducible copresence of different semantic codes
or, in other words, of idioms, logic, and systems.
Such a copresence is made up of the possession
machine and it seems particularly evident in the
course of individual and social dynamics such as
those characteristics of migration. Therefore, the
errors of “therapeutic” or “political overinterpre-
tation” pointed out by Olivier de Sardan (1993,
1994) may arise not from mere misunderstandings
as much as from the impossibility of capturing
within a single model, in one kind of language,
the complexity of the rituals and the experiences
of spirit possession, and the different semiotics that
meet there. Moreover, the polysemous character of
possession, which is common to all rites, extends
well beyond the time of ritual and connotes the
totality of the experience of the possessed and of
their life. The “genres” (Ortigues et Ortigues 1984),
more than being “confused,” are exposed to the risk
of being neglected or obscured to the advantage of
just one genre (often the medico-psychological), to
which almost everything ends up being subjected.
If the psychological lens can lead to a real inter-
pretative misunderstanding, an analogous risk ap-
plies also to those anthropological analyses, which
situate possession solely within its religious di-
mensions, without adequately considering the role
of changes, which historical events (colonialism,
evangelisation, schooling) have produced in its cur-
rent configurations and in the representations of
the person at the background of such experiences.
The great difficulty for the scholar of possession
cults lies in building theories which appropriately
consider the role of all the different points of view
operating in the rituals and in the experiences of
possession (political, religious, psychological, eco-
nomic, therapeutic, aesthetics, and others). In this
regard, the cult of Mammy Wata discussed in this
article is exemplary because it crosses over fields
of heterogeneous meaning which are rooted in spe-
cific cultural universes context- and time-bound.
The observations reported by Alina Porrinis (per-
sonal communication) in her research among the
Igbo conducted in Imo State raise further questions.
Among the Igbo of Oguta (Imo State) Mammy
Wata and the ogbanje spirits are considered as
mmuo mmiri: spirits of the water that intervene in
lroPos 101.2006
432
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
the life of the people. When Mammy Wata falls
in love with someone she starts to “disturb” (pos-
sess) the person. The possession can manifest itself
in madness, sickness, infertility, misfortune, or the
consecutive deaths of children. The cure consists, in
the majority of cases, in a ritual aimed at placating
the spirit.
Following some testimonies, Porrinis states that
the first step towards becoming a member of the
Mammy Wata cult can be the madness provoked
by being possessed by Mammy Wata. The madness
in this case is thought of as a sudden change of
character and a temporary loss of reason. The per-
son that becomes mad and temporarily loses control
can return to health only after an adequate ritual,
which often coincides with the initiation to the cult.
The followers of Mammy Wata interpret the rela-
tionship between Mammy Wata and the disturbed
person in terms of possession only during the first
phase, i.e., during the sickness due to the posses-
sion. During the rituals when all the members of
the cult get together, the experience of being in a
trance (nro) is interpreted as evidence of the ability
of a spiritually clean person to see and hear the
spirits. Moreover, it seems that amnesia, i.e., the
absence of the memory related to the experience
of being possessed, reflects the discontinuity pro-
duced in the identity of the possessed person. It
is a duty of those who have the “power” to share
what they see or hear during the trance with all
the other participants of the ritual. The members of
the cult interpret the ritual performance of trance as
the vision of the spirits and not only as possession
by the water spirits. The entranced person doesn’t
stop being him/herself and is never identified with
the spirit of Mammy Wata.
According to Porrinis some aspects call for at-
tention. In fact, it would appear that the experience
of possession is always related to a state of suf-
fering generally associated with the initiation ill-
ness that strikes the people who are “disturbed” by
Mammy Wata or by the possession of an evil spirit
Cogbanje).
Although the symptoms of possession by og-
banje spirits can be similar to those produced by
Mammy Wata, the possession by an ogbanje causes
a condition of suffering that always requires an
exorcism characterised by two moments: the ex-
pulsion of the spirit and a rite of propitiation that
includes a last offering to Mammy Wata. The dibia
(traditional doctor or diviner) can recognise dif-
ferent types of ogbanje: ogbanje of the water, og-
banje of the land, ogbanje that cause madness (ara)
or loss of money, ogbanje that create problems in
marriage, and ogbanje that cause the birth of the
“children that return.” Being mmuo ajo the ogbanje
are evil spirits - sometimes considered as children
or messengers of Mammy Wata - that “take by
force.” The possessed ceases to be him/herself, ap-
pears as a different person, is “disturbed,” and no
more recognisable because of the superposition of
the spirit onto him/herself. Such superposition pro-
duces the permanent identification of the spirit with
the person possessed, since the person becomes an
ogbanje. The ogbanje spirits are then responsible
for a condition of suffering that manifests itself
in the sign of a presence (that of the spirit) and
at the same time constitutes a pathology of which
one needs to be cured. The ogbanje spirits are re-
sponsible, hence, for a possession that does not
transform itself into ritual possession but instead
always requires a therapeutic intervention aimed
at the expulsion of the spirit. Here we can find a
clear expression of adorcism/exorcism dichotomy:
ogbanje would admit only the second solution.
More in general, the questions discussed in the
present work are similar to those raised by van Dijk
on the abuse of the term “voodoo” (van Dijk 2001)-
They represent a premise for rethinking the experi-
ence of possession in a broader scenario than that
considered by other well-known researchers. We
propose to study possession in a scenario where
the dynamics of migration in a European coun-
try, the conflicts between host society and immi-
grants, and the problems accompanying the expe-
rience of prostitution can be seen clearly. Such an
experience is central to the biographies of the pa-
tients we have met, and it also represents an excel-
lent metaphor of relations between the dominated
and dominators, consumers and the consumed, de-
sire and power. It expresses in an exemplary man-
ner the contradictions connected to the obsessive
search for wealth and well-being portrayed ever
more frequently in the shared imaginary as some-
thing within everyone’s reach and easy to achieve,
almost magically.5 * *
The economic profiles, and the contradictory ex-
istential trajectories witnessed by the women who
are the focus of our research, are revealed after all
as no less meaningful than the religious, psycho-
logical, or therapeutic profiles in understanding the
experience of possession (as much the “manifest
as the “ordinary”: Boddy 1989). Only by deferring
constantly to such a context, we can perhaps sue-
5 “Making money from nothing” is the expression propose^
by Andrews in relationship to the pyramid schemes devel-
oped in Eastern Europe and in some sub-Saharan Africa11
countries. The expression, taken up by Comaroff and C°'
maroff (1999b, 2000), seems more than ever appropriate in
the context of our reflections.
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
433
ceed in interpreting correctly not only their experi-
ence of possession but also the often contradictory
sense of their religious membership, of the suspi-
cions of witchcraft frequently expressed in the con-
frontations with other conationals, and of the refer-
ences to voodoo rites or to attacks from vampires.
In fact, these accounts and the idioms in which they
are expressed speak of real conflicts, of relation
of force, of daily violence, and they become the
object of negotiations and manipulations according
to the circumstances, the places, and the interlocu-
tors (the police stations, the hospitals, the volun-
tary workers of communities who take them in, the
social workers whom they ask for financial help).
In the scenario we are evoking, the actions and
the discourses of these immigrant and possessed
Women no longer appear deprived of reason, nor
can they be described as the expression of magic or
irrational thought, or as a symptom of a “religious
delusion.”6
3 Bodies between Empowerment, Desire,
and Commoditisation
Possession - defined as a means of creating com-
ttiunication between human beings and the divine,
the living and the dead, men and women, one gen-
eration to the other (Lambek 1980, 1993) - is also a
complex machine-à-penserJ In the context of clan-
destine migration, the condition of the possessed
represents a condition from where it becomes pos-
sible to think of the question of crossing borders,
°f power and success, of illness, of alterity and
the Other. This question emerges not only in the
relationship between human beings and spirits but
aiso between worlds and local economies, on the
°ne hand, and signs and goods of foreign origin on
die other. Similar to the reflections about the phe-
6 There are many examples of political abuse of psychiatric di-
agnoses in colonial contexts (Beneduce and Martelli 2005).
Both for the most celebrated as for those everyday mis-
understandings which these Nigerian women are subjected
to, the observation of Mbembe could be valuable: “What
African agents accept as reasons for acting, what their claim
to act in the light of reason implies (as a general claim to be
right, avoir raison), what makes their action intelligible to
themselves; all this is of virtually no account in the eyes of
analysts” (2001: 7). On health issues among immigrants see
also Corin (1995).
^ The expression machine-à-penser has been borrowed from
Adler and Zempléni (quoted in Beneduce 2002: 137). The
arguments of Boddy on possession in the Sudan can also be
taken up in the context of our research; “it comments upon
and reorders quotidian meanings, unmasking their latent
indeterminacies and broadening them in light of women’s
Particular concerns” (1989: 9).
nomenon of accusations of witchcraft,8 this new set
of questions allows us to think about the conflicts
between moral constraints and individual choices,
and the dialectical controversies regulating the pro-
cesses of accumulation, inequality, consumption,
and production.
The ambiguous relationships these young
women (immigrants and prostitutes) have with their
boyfriends and clients - where boundaries and
meanings are endlessly negotiated, in Nigeria as
well as in Italy (for the Philippines, see Ratliff
1999) -, with the mamans, with their families, and
even with the Pentecostal churches or the priests of
the possession cults (in the presence of whom they
have given their oaths) allow another dimension to
emerge: personal power and its exercise, a question
which recalls some of the problems examined by
van Dijk in the Dutch context. Van Dijk records the
necessity of not undervaluing the “capacity to de-
cide” of immigrant women involved in prostitution.
The authorities are, on the other hand, embarrassed
to admit this very “capacity”: “The very idea of the
possibility of voluntary action in this field ... be-
came deeply resented in a pervasive ideology of po-
litical correctness” (van Dijk 2001: 573). Although
the experiences we gathered in the course of our
research converge in many ways towards similar
conclusions, they nevertheless call for a certain pru-
dence in using the notion of “choice” or “voluntary
action.”9 Immigrant women have to deal with the
dangers and uncertainty of their condition, with the
risks related to their health (in particular concerning
HIV infection and reduced fertility), and with the
anxiety generated by the scenarios of violence, sus-
picion, poverty, and death in their country of origin
(D. J. Smith 2001a, 2001b). Only by considering
the totality of these conflicts we can sense the spe-
cial totality of practices, of power relationships, and
of meanings which articulate the register of pos-
session in the migratory context. And it is no less
relevant to observe that the notions of reciprocity
and of power to decide (agency), or the capacity
to negotiate roles - evoked above all in reference
to the daily context where these women have to
8 Ashforth 1998; Comaroff and Comaroff 1993; Geschiere
1995, 2000; Fisiy et Geschiere 1993.
9 A specific programme (in its legislative form it is called
“article 18”) was launched in recent years to offer reception
and integration programmes to these women, even when
they stay without a permit in Italy (almost all the cases).
Denouncing their exploiters has, however, often generated
feelings of anxiety both for the possible reprisals in Italy
and for the indirect vengeance of harming families back in
Nigeria. On the fear of attacks by sorcery as a motive for
migration see Fisiy and Goheen (1998; 399).
434
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
confront their partners or the institutional agents -
seem to find their structural equivalent in the regis-
ter of possession. Even while possessed by Mammy
Wata, they seem to be able to control, to a certain
extent, this relation, and to succeed in negotiating
their objectives and in articulating this bond within
other relationships. As it is in the logic of many
traditional religions in general, so it is in the cult of
Mammy Wata. In both cases we can say that “the
gods need men,” their existence depends on them
materially enough (Augé 1988).
What J. H. Smith (2001; 431) observed in Ken-
ya, regarding this “commoditized” relationship be-
tween women and majini spirits, is pertinent also
in the case of the Mammy Wata cult. Within a
scenario, which is articulated through seductions,
callings, and negotiations, the question of power is
stressed as much as that of its form and reproduc-
tion. In the cult of Mammy Wata the bond between
the possessed and the spirit is accompanied not
only by promises of well-being and of health, or
of the gift of being able to heal but also by images
of wealth, and by the dream of a luxurious life.
These images are allegories of a foreign power, of
the power of the colonies and of the Whites, whose
presence dominates the African imaginary (Monga
2000; Gondola 1999). As other researchers have
pointed out, through these events, a notion of power
emerges closely connected to the capacity to incor-
porate and tame those “emblems of alterity” which
are symbols and goods of the West (light skin, long,
smooth hair, sunglasses, cellular phones). Not by
chance, these symbols and goods are part as much
of the contemporary icons of Mammy Wata as of
the icons in flesh and blood that are her initiates.
Here we are dealing with a representation of power
rooted in the cultures of origin and in the his-
torical events which have marked them (primarily
the colonial period, evangelisation, urbanisation).
In this context, power is conceived as the capacity
to move across different worlds and territories, to
cross visible and invisible frontiers, to capture an
alterity in order to restrain, incorporate, and ex-
hibit it.10 Starting from these premises, it is not sur-
prising that there is a special coincidence between
“savage world” and “urban space.”11
Mammy Wata is the goddess of the crossroads
(the expression is Jell-Bahlsen’s) and she is an ex-
cellent metaphor of this penetration into the “space
of the Other,” and of the compromises and negotia-
tions which come with it. In fact, the crossroads are
like the market places where one transits in a state
of uncertainty, where paradoxes and ambiguities
coexist and interact provisionally, and where dif-
ferent signs and meanings proliferate. In the cults of
possession - and in particular in the cult of Mammy
Wata - these aspects bring to light another dimen-
sion. When the experience of possession identifies
itself so closely with the search for personal power,
when the entry into a possession cult expresses
the “peak of desire for power,” a singular proxim-
ity emerges with that antisocial dimension which
certain authors recognise as one of the essential
characteristics of modernity: that which introduces
new and only apparently paradoxical profiles in a
phenomenon usually associated with a strategy of
socialisation and of cure (Augé 1982).
The desires and the conflicts generated by the
economical and symbolical postcolonial dynamics
are added to the problems noted here. While well-
being and prosperity were once believed to be re-
alisable within the community, they have now be-
come gradually accessible (at least in the terms of
the imaginary) by individuals and, in this case, by
women. It is not difficult to recognise that certain
possession cults seem to be in certain aspects in
perfect tune with the social processes that are char-
acteristic of modernity. In particular, the case of
Mammy Wata is coherent with a totally individual
register of wealth and prosperity. On the cult of
Mammy Wata, Frank (1995) observes how today
the wealth and well-being of the European - which
was once perceived as mysteriously associated with
and accessible to men who lived in conditions of
solitude (missionaries, traders, soldiers), and, there-
fore, in clear contradiction to the collective and
solidaristic model of well-being - have become co-
herent images with the new forms of wealth and
accumulation conveyed by the rhetoric of modern
capitalism. These same images have ended up be-
ing superimposed “naturally” on to the icon of a
10 Argenti 2001; Fisiy and Goheen 1998; Quaranta 2002.
11 In Sierra Leone, the temporary village where initiation is
carried out, is situated in the forest; it used to be called “little
forest,” and now it is called “Nairobi” (Bellman, quoted
in Argenti 1998: 760). In the city of Kinshasa, too, in the
imaginary of many adolescents and women, the search for
new identities should ease up the “integration into the space
of the Other, the West, appearing to them as the domain of
ultimate power and pleasure” (Devisch, quoted in Argenti
1998: 759). This also reminds us of the theme of “rebe
woman,” widely diffused in the fiction of West Africa, where
the woman who is led by the foreigner to the city and t>°
longer to the forest, is described as a manipulator and, at
the same time, victim of her destiny, rich but a prostitute
(as in the novel of Cyprian Ekwensi, “Jagua Nana,” quote
in Inyama 1992). Such versions can be defined as real soda
commentary on the new forms of power and on the strategy
of domestication of this unknown and spasmodically desire
territory which is the city, and in particular the European city-
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
435
divinity, who, not by chance, requires her disciples
not to enter into family constraints.12
Therefore, the immigrant women we have en-
countered experience the singular symbolic over-
lapping of a possession cult with the ideal of in-
dividual well-being and with the financial means
accumulated beyond the control of the family. Such
an overlapping is strongly intertwined with their ex-
periences on a social level (that of migration), on an
economic level (as prostitutes, or “sex workers”),
and on an emotional one (single women or women
involved in fragile and ambivalent relationships).
4 A Story of Suffering, a Disorder without
Name
Grace is a Nigerian woman who was born in Lagos
in 1963. She grew up in Benin City (Edo State),
in the family of her father (Urhobo group). She
is the fourth of twelve children.13 Her mother left
her husband’s house when he remarried. Grace was
brought up by her paternal grandmother, together
With her other brothers and sisters. Grace was her
first husband’s second wife; she had two children
from him. The first child was bom when she was
18 years old; the second was bom with an unspec-
hied malformation and died after a year (“he was
as small as a baboon and breathed badly,” she told
Us in one of the first meetings). Grace attributes
file death of the child to the intervention of her
mother-in-law who was suspected because during
file pregnancy she had made her drink something
°f an unknown type. From her second marriage she
bad another daughter (who should be about twenty-
frmr today).
In 1990, Grace’s father died apparently from a
sfroke. In the same year, the economic problems of
file family pushed her to leave the country going
lo Italy. In 1995, her mother died from illnesses
which Grace maintains to be the same from which
she herself has begun to suffer in Turin: swelling of
file legs, nervousness, a thick and swollen tongue
12 Although elaborated in another context, the considerations
bY J.H. Smith on the majini cult are also valid in the
case of Mammy Wata: “... the jini is the epitome of the
commodity fetish discussed by Marx ..., a purchased thing
which appears to produce wealth out of nothing ... In
short, majini invade those places that symbolize modernity”
, (2001:432f.).
Grace is the fourth daughter, preceded by the firstborn son
and two older sisters. On the number of Grace’s children,
as in the rest of her whole biography, we have received
sometimes contradictory information; there seem to be three
children currently alive.
which makes it difficult even to speak. Grace’s
mother had converted to Christianity years before
and in her final days prayed intensely that her
daughters would not suffer the same health prob-
lems. It seems that almost all the members of her
family trace the death of the mother to the fact
that she remained Christian in spite of the fact that
she had been told on numerous occasions to re-
turn to practices of the traditional religion. In the
same year of her mother’s death, Grace converted
to Christianity and became a fervent member of a
Pentecostal church.
In Italy she worked for a year as a prostitute.
Currently she has a legal permit to stay in Italy
and she has a job. For about a year she lived with
an Italian man (probably a client who then became
her boyfriend), with whom she still has a relation-
ship, although they meet less frequently. Today she
has a stable relationship with her second husband,
a Nigerian who has recently arrived in Italy. She
would like to have more children with him. How-
ever she has not yet been able to achieve this goal.
Clinical History
At the end of 1997, Grace was admitted to a Piedmont
hospital following a collapse preceded by dizziness and
the sensation of “enlargement” of the stomach. The di-
agnosis with which she was discharged states that she
suffered of anaemia and metabolic illnesses. Grace ar-
rived at the Centro Frantz Fanon in January 1998. She
was sent by a health information service for immigrants
that she consulted for gynaecological problems (a pre-
sumed pregnancy, pain in the uterus, inflammation of the
vagina). The tests revealed a uterine fibroma and a vagi-
nal infection, but because of the symptoms she presented
(she was anxious and depressed) she was advised to have
a psychiatric consultation.
Her complaints were about “something which moves
through the body, as if there is something that wants to
eat my head.” She had burning sensations at the spine,
swellings in the legs and feet, heavy eyes (“as if they have
been shaken from somewhere”), sensations of water run-
ning uninterruptedly along her head and neck, feelings of
heat, and vomiting. She was afraid that her muscles “may
be dying.” She feared having contracted the HIV virus
during her past experience of prostitution and she was
afraid that she was no longer fertile. The first symptoms
seem to have appeared already by the end of 1991. She
remembered being ill at the age of fifteen when she was
in Nigeria (the symptoms in that case were especially
nausea, loss of strength, loss of appetite, and swelling in
the legs). According to Grace, the pain she suffered more
recently was closely related to her arrival in Italy. The
first episode dated from that period. When she climbed
the stairs she felt a sensation of heat in her chest; she spit
blood mixed with saliva. This problem lasted for about
two weeks. She said that during this period she started
having “heavy thoughts,” and among her other worries
Antfi
lroPos 101.2006
436
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
were those of being deported by the police. From 1994
onwards she began to feel irritating itchiness along her
body (from her feet to her head). Again at that time,
during a sexual intercourse, she felt a strong pain in
her abdomen and she had the impression that something
was moving in her stomach. After that, even during her
menstrual period, she continued to have this irritating
sensation as if something was moving from her feet up
to her head. Grace thought of it as a “worm.” More re-
cently (at the end of 1999), she asked us if the worm
she felt slipping all along her body might be due to her
past experiences as a prostitute. Other Nigerian women
complained about the same problem. She described an
episode of confusion which happened during the same
period and which seems evocative of a crisis of trance.
During a moment of collective prayer at her house, Grace
began to shake and to experience muscular spasms, loss
of saliva, and loss of consciousness. At the end of the
crisis (her sister was present as well) she vomited a great
deal and spat out very dark saliva. She said that God
“wanted to take out the black (the dark) which I have
inside” and which could have been caused by smoking
cigarettes. Some weeks later, new elements appeared in
her discourse. She maintained that the origin of her prob-
lems can be attributed to a Nigerian woman to whom
she owed money. She described herself as a victim of
this woman (“she is a witch,” Grace says). The economic
problems quickly took up the therapeutic scene. In this
case the salient reference made by Grace was to the debts
incurred in order to get to Italy and from which she was
still not free.
In the course of a meeting, the therapist (one of the
authors of this work) made reference to the sensations
often ascribed to water which runs along her body, by
asking her if in Nigeria she had ever heard of Mammy
Wata. Grace smiled. After an initial moment of reticence
and of disappointment (“The white doctors do not believe
in these things”), she told of having practised the ritual
of Olokun (Mammy Wata) twice. The first time, in 1989,
lasted only three days and it was carried out because it
would bring good fortune to the commercial activity she
had just undertaken (selling rice). The second time, in
1990, the ritual lasted seven days (not ten, as foreseen,
given its extremely high cost). Grace was in Lagos,
where she had begun to suffer from loss of appetite and
weight, insomnia, and swelling in the legs. Her paternal
aunt (a priestess of the Olokun cult) had let her know
through a message that she should return immediately to
the village if she did not want it to be already too late
(alluding to the danger of death that was hanging over
her). Grace went to her aunt and told her about a dream
she had had. After the divinatory response, the aunt and
another priestess organised the ritual.
In the course of the ceremony, the divinity which
chose Grace as her disciple was identified as Ete Ok5,
a term which indicates either a type of “algae which
spreads rapidly on the river and swallows, covers, and
destroys all that it finds,” or a “boat.” Grace said this
divinity is very powerful and that very few women call
on her in the course of the rite (“There would only be five
in all Benin City”). She told of having made divinations
in Italy in the early period, even in the church she used to
go to. She remembered having indicated to other women,
followers of Olokun, the necessity of making sacrifices at
the shrine of the deity.
Grace said she never completed the whole ritual,
neglecting to fulfil two essential steps of the final part of
the ceremony aiming at revealing her new membership
(one of these ritual acts consists of going around the
market dressed in white and with a basket, piled up with
gifts, on her head to make her recognisable as a daughter
of Mammy Wata). Since the last ritual, Grace no longer
honoured her altar and she did not know if during her
absence her relatives had done so. A little while after
her arrival in Italy, she had asked her family to bum the
ritual objects, following the request made by the pastor
of the Pentecostal church she was attending. However,
the family refused to do so in her absence fearing the
consequences of this act. Recently, Grace had asked her
sister to send her some of the ritual objects from Nigeria
so that she could wear them here in Italy (an anklet and
a necklace). These objects never arrived. During one of
the meetings, Grace said that she wanted to make peace
again with her shrine; she intended to “leave the Church
and to return to her real work.”
In 1999, Grace told us of having practised a ritual in
honour of Mammy Wata along a tributary of the Po River
in Turin. A few nights later, she dreamt of her father and
of some priestesses of Olokun. She greeted them in the
ritual manner, “as one must do in these circumstances.”
After about two months, she dreamt of yam and a bunch
of bananas. Grace said that a person who “knows how to
read these things” has told her that the dream meant that
she is pregnant. We suggest that the dream could also
stand for some offers Grace made to Mammy Wata. At
that point, she told us of a second dream she had in the
course of the same night. In the dream she sung a song
whose words are: “remember not to forget the conversa-
tion we have begun and the things we have done.”
We met Grace again at the Centro Frantz Fanon in the
spring of 2001. She had returned after a period of absence
of several months, in the course of which she had been to
Nigeria. There, she had been to an azen (a term which
Grace translates as “witch doctor”), who had told her
during a divination that she “is not a woman,” but a being
that is “half woman and half fish.” According to the div-
ination’s response, Grace is the bride of a spiritual hus-
band (obaname) who paid a dowry for her. Grace asked
where this money had ended up, given that her father had
never received any of it. The only answer the azen gave
was that she should go to the river and give to the water
a sum that he would establish; moreover, she should g°
to the river in order to take her baby ogbanje objects and
to destroy them (see note 18). But Grace was afraid and
did not do what she was told to do. When we asked her
about the reasons for her rebellion, she showed on the
one hand her rancour and claimed the right to be angry
with Mammy Wata for all that she made her go through
(“If she is angry with me, so am I angry with her”); °n
the other hand, she expressed great fear of falling ir>t0
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
437
the water, of being drawn down into its depth without
being able to come up again (“What if I fall and I can no
longer come up again? Since I was a child” - she tells us
" ‘I have always been afraid of going close to the river”).
Grace also told us of a dream that her daughter,
who was then a medical student, had one night when
they were sleeping together in Nigeria. In the dream the
thother became Mammy Wata and was immersed in the
depths of a river, surrounded by every kind of wealth;
from the doorstep, Grace was calling her daughter asking
her to come and meet her. Grace’s daughter, waking with
a jolt and frightened, had asked her mother to account
l°r her nature once and for all (“But what is it that’s
ltappening to you? You aren’t a woman,” she said to her
Mother); she then refused to continue sleeping with her,
and for the whole night Grace was unable to make her
c°me back to bed. Grace asked us what happened that
night (“I don’t know what is happening to my body”).
The therapist asked her again if her legs still feel heavy
when she wakes up. Grace said that in the morning before
fr>e is able to walk she has to wait for some minutes,
t>ecause it actually feels as if her legs would not be
ahle to keep her upright, as if her legs are not ready to
Walk.
the following pages we would like to examine
s°me aspects of this experience. First of all, the
ahalysis of her experience of possession will fo-
CUs less on more familiar dimensions of posses-
Sl°n (such as psychic dissociation, modifications of
state of consciousness, ritual amnesia, somatic
frlnesses, premonitions of being called) and more
°n the body and the territory it crosses. The latter
are to be understood as places of uncertainty and
anger where experiences, symptoms, and percep-
l0hs move between different strategies of objecti-
Vati°n, recognition, and control. These places are
^here the presence of Mammy Wata and the ex-
Perience of being “acted on” become moments of
Crisis and menace (Cartry 1988; Izard 1985). Sec-
ond]y5 seems important to analyse the nature of
e bonds and constraints existing not only between
sPirit and possessed but also between their world
and that of the nonpossessed. How do the possessed
the nonpossessed relate to each other in their
aily life? How do the different logics addressed by
eir behaviour and experiences interact with one
other? Finally, what remains is to question the
i°n of human nature as it emerges from these
xPeriences and discourses.
g
Thinking Alterities, Playing with Agencies,
aftd the Risk of Being “Other”
^ become a divinity, to announce its coming
0ugh your own body, to be this very divinity
frnth
and lend your own voice to it, to require that others
recognise in that body alone the divinity or the spir-
its and no longer the particular man or woman who
was present in that same place, in that same body
until a moment before (Leiris 1989), this means
to make another intentionality manifest, namely,
to make other willing actors and desires emerging
from this paradoxical identification. Perhaps not
all has yet been said of this constraint to the in-
teraction with alterity which the possessed incar-
nates through her life. To begin with, let us think
of the many paradoxes that possession seems to
promote.14 * It seems to be important to question
our assumptions about the meaning of an experi-
ence which projects itself on to other dynamics and
conflicts, and permeates the “life world” of disci-
ples, the representation of selfhood, and their future
projects well beyond the time of ritual. In fact, the
ritual scenario of possession, the meanings and the
values of belonging to a cult, assume new mean-
ings when they are incorporated within other events
such as migrating to Europe. In this context, pos-
session rituals interweave with other experiences:
the challenges of solitude involved in migrating; the
worry of being the object of envy for any economic
success which comes about; the constant concerns
with illness, sterility, or death; the anxiety of a body
which feels defeated.
By inverting the almost obvious assumed se-
quence (that imagines unconscious and inexpress-
ible desires, or other conflicts, as the hidden
“cause” of possession on the one hand, and the
corresponding ritual as the “solution” for the indi-
vidual and for the group to these conflicts and these
desires, on the other hand), we attempt to interro-
gate the opposite trajectory of this experience. In
other words, what changes in the history of the pos-
sessed when there is a perennial bond with a spirit?
What is the sense of the many and irreversible
transformations whose permanence is witnessed by
the body as well as by other living signs, when
these “signs” themselves migrate to other contexts?
What possibility (and limits) arises from what is not
14 Among the many paradoxes of possession, here we mention
two of them; a) the extraordinary (the “numinous”) becomes
repetitive and expected, called to participate in daily life;
b) the body is not a temporary repository of the divinity
or the spirit nor is it a simple shrine; it is the same body
structure which is modified and this mutation is often last-
ing, because in many cases possession is “a permanent state,
given once and for all” (Vincent 1971: 108). With regard
to a possession cult in southern Italy, De Martino used the
expression of “celestial husband” and “mystical weddings”
to define the bond between the possessed woman and Saint
Paul (1996: 74f.).
lroPos 101.2006
438
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
always or only a contact with supernatural powers
through prayer or sacrifice but rather an explicit
“contract” (Frank 1995: 335) sealed in the body of
the possessed?15 How does the person redefine (re-
shape) her projects once she discovers to be “mar-
ried” to the spirit of the waters? These questions
need to be raised in order to unveil the (often vio-
lent) dynamics at work when there is competition
between different models of the person, of the psy-
che, and of suffering (the medico-psychological,
the religious and moral models of a Christian kind
which invoke or allude to an exorcistic strategy,
and the model of reciprocal possession and of al-
liances).
As the experience of Grace shows in an ex-
emplary manner, the response to these questions
must be found within the contexts in which pos-
session takes place; in our case, within migratory
dynamics. As already stated, such dynamics can
profoundly influence the sense of that experience
and its unfolding. As a matter of fact, the meaning
of the symptoms and the degree of pertinence of
gestures and ritual practices can change or vacil-
late. Such oscillation can be clearly witnessed in
the phrases and discourses of our patients when
they talk with much reticence about their illnesses
and experiences, about the interpretations they have
been given in Nigeria, the crises of possession, and
the participation in the cult of Mammy Wata by
always adding at the end of their telling phrases like
these: “I do not believe it, I’m Christian, my family
has been Christian for a long time.” We are allud-
ing to a field of particularly complex forces, where
not only the content of a “belief” interacts with a
person grappling with her doubts, but also where
questions and choices between contradictory bonds
and belongings intersect with each other. Moreover,
these contradictions and intersections are enunci-
ated in the presence of a Western interlocutor in
the role of a therapist. In the course of migration
and of the experience of prostitution, the sense of
relation with a spirit - with Mammy Wata - and the
presence of illnesses, which is no longer explica-
ble through only one specific register, can become
the terrain for a more dramatic doubt. Here we
are alluding to the possibility of a radical doubt;
or, better, to a real epistemological rupture that
can break the ontological complicity operating un-
til now between human beings and divinity, living
beings and objects, bodies and spirits. Such rupture,
such uncertainties, which are favoured by the cul-
15 On these issues see Szombati-Fabian and Fabian 1976; Sal-
mons 1977; Drewal 1988; Gore and Nevadomsky 1997; Jell-
Bahlsen 1997.
tural dynamics and by the migratory experience (as
demonstrated by the history of Grace and of other
women we have met) can be approximated to the
notion of “crisis of presence” (De Martino 1977,
1995), to the terror of seeing the limits of their own
body dissolved in a metamorphosis whose times
and meaning are not controlled; in other words,
more literally, to the anxiety of no longer being in
this world.
Our hypothesis is that, far from the symbolic
and limited to ritual contexts where the “initiation
illness” is revealed and where the actual “spiritual
companions” have been recognised and named, the
experiences of possession - at least for some of
the possessed - can be extremely persistent, in that
their bodies become living and conflicting memo-
rials of an inextinguishable debt. As Frank (1995)
points out, though it is not in any way dangerous
during a collective ceremony to experiment with
possession, it can be dangerous when it is done
individually, in secret.16 In the latter case, sliding
into the mould of insanity instead of that of posses-
sion, into the idiosyncratic register of alterity rather
than of socialisation, seems to be more in relation
to the absence of a social and symbolic fabric than
to the impossibility or the possibility of recognising
and naming the responsible spirit. When practiced
individually, possession lacks a common moral dis-
course, which allows to govern and to objectify the
meaning of these experiences and of the peculiar
perceptions of a “double body” by situating them
within a network of shared memories and roles. In
this case the expression “the work of culture” i§
particularly appropriate (Obeyesekere 1985, 1990)-
6 Placing Women, Children, and Spirits
While the ritual activity takes on complex meaning8
and merits consideration because it finds ways of
reproducing itself in different forms - even in the
contexts of migration - it seems to us just as im-
portant to analyse those aspects and events which
might appear banal but nonetheless reveal a difh'
cult attempt to reconcile contradictory belonging8
and worlds. Misty Bastian (1997), in her research
among the Igbo (southeastern Nigeria) and in her
accurate analysis of the cult of Mammy Wata, ha8
referred to these expressions of possession as or-
16 One day Grace made a sacrifice to Mammy Wata on the
banks of a river near Turin. In a moment particularly fraugW
with tension she seemed to stumble and almost fell. Later
this fall was interpreted by Grace as a bad omen, and
experience considerably accentuated her uneasiness.
Anthropos 101-2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
439
dinary. Moreover, she has extended the notion of
“possession” even to those phenomena in which the
entire ritual structure is not necessarily present.
In the introduction to her work, Bastian suggests
to extend the study of the relationships between
spirits and human beings beyond the experiences
classically defined as “possession,” “shamanism,”
or “mediumship.” In particular, she is referring to
those experiences in the course of which, although
We cannot talk about being “possessed by spirits,”
meaningful bonds between the human world and
the world of spirits are nonetheless interwoven.
The logic underlining these bonds is essentially
the same as that on which the constraints of al-
liance and of relationship amongst human groups
are founded. She reports the examples of child
spirits (ogbanje, “returning child”; abiku, “born to
die”) and of women-fish. The latter are “daughters”
°f Mammy Wata, women who were born under the
sign of beauty and are lovers of well-being,17 or
Women who refuse maternity, marriage, and other
forms of social bonds.
Mammy Wata - who is the generally female
spirit of the waters (although it is common to
lalk about “spiritual husbands” as well) - and og-
banje - who is the incarnate spirit - are closely
related phenomena. On the one hand, the follow-
ers of Mammy Wata would be the most sub-
tle to “cut ogbanje,” that is, to break for good
that bond and the inauspicious cycle of birth and
death in which children, spirits, and family mem-
bers are caught. On the other hand, the daugh-
ters of Mammy Wata are themselves “onye og-
bcianje mmili (water ogbaanje person)” (Bastian
1997: 125), therefore, child-spirits who have fought
a§ainst death during infancy by resisting to calls,
temptations, and to the incessant molestation of
c°mpanion-spirits of the waters. In this way, in the
c°urse of life they become persons with a double,
ambivalent, and at the same time ambiguous nature.
1 bey are spirits of the waters entrapped in a body
f^d obliged to live among human beings. They are
. °dies that can transform themselves into fish or
|t>to other animal forms. They are spirits and human
eings at the same time, but they are neither the one
n°r the other. After all, they are like the representa-
lyes of a third gender, properly unclassifiable and
ln a certain sense “monstrous.”
Previous research has shown how priests or
br]estesses of the Mammy Wata cult can be iden-
bed as ogbanje persons (or persons who have suf-
ered from an “ogbanje illness”). Ilechukwu quotes
I? “
'Li uwa” is literally the one who wants “to eat the world,’
who wants only to enjoy herself.
^nthr,
opos 101.2006
a specialist and writes that “Ogbanje problems and
mamiwater problems are the same. Ogbanje, [the
specialist] thinks is the old form of presentation of
a spiritual bond. There is now no need to search
for lyiuwa [or ‘bond stone’] but to satisfy the de-
mands of the spiritual ruler of this world - Satan.
... Mammy Wata is an agent of Satan” (1990-
91: 25 f.). In the same study (49), the author con-
tinues:
Patients, their families and the healers, especially the
Igbo ones, are unanimous in their view that ogbanje
now manifest as Mammy Wata problems. The healers
in particular see no difficulty in reconciling the two
phenomena. Things have changed. Western medicine has
reduced infant and child mortality and now, they reason,
the modus operandi has changed.
In recent years these categories and the related
ritual practices have been overlapping and were
somehow confused, to the point that a patient can
participate in an ogbanje ritual (to locate the “bond
stone”),18 * or in a Mammy Wata ritual or, further
still, in both rituals without the social agents in-
volved perceiving either contradiction or confu-
sion. Although in a more recent work Gore and
Nevadomsky (1997: 68) have brought this relation
to light, they stress the existence of local variants
which cannot always be led back into a single
schema:
In Uga [Anambra State, Nigeria], Ogbanje are deceased
children reborn to the same mother. They are wayward
and difficult. Mrs. Umenze defines two kinds of Ogbanje:
children from the rivers and children from the Niger
River or the sea. Treating river children is easy, but
Niger River or sea children must be initiated as priests/
priestesses of Mammy Wata and then married to the sea.
In Umuohiagu ..., on the other hand, Ogbanje is also
recognised as a problem, but there is not a connection
between Ogbanje and Mammy Wata.
Constantly overlapping references to both phenom-
ena have emerged even in the narratives of the
women we have met. If we were to order their dis-
courses on “illness” and its causes by a temporal
scan, we would sketch out the following sequence;
women like Grace, who have complained of ill-
nesses and problems of different types (the pres-
ence of worms, tingling sensations, their precarious
economic state, sterility, loss of work), after the
indications of an oracle or of a priestess who has
18 It is a common procedure that the spirit-children place all
the things which bind them to the world of their companions
under the earth, near a water course: “There is an emphasis
on the existence of a ritual bond object called lyiuwa (‘life
contract’)” (Ilechukwu 1990-91: 20).
440
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
interpreted these problems as signs of callings by
the spirit of the waters, had participated in a ritual
of Mammy Wata in Nigeria, thus becoming fol-
lowers of the cult. Moreover, right from their early
years, some members of the family (the mother, the
grandmother, a paternal aunt) or a specialist (often a
native doctor) had recognised them as ogbanje chil-
dren.19 Some of them, after having converted to a
Christian church, had interrupted their participation
in the cult even before leaving for Europe. In the
course of this sequence other scenes and rituals (of-
ten described as “voodoo”) accompany, under the
threat of violence, the clandestine migration and the
contraction of debt in relation to the subsequent ac-
tivity of prostitution. Bastian’s expression “embod-
ied spiritual warfare” (1997: 123) can be applied
here too because it effectively condenses these con-
frontational relations between spirits and bodies.
We will take up only two of the numerous in-
terpretations of the cult of Mammy Wata: a) on
the one hand, as it has been mentioned above,
in recent years psychopathological interpretations
have proliferated. This kind of interpretation tends
to categorise the behaviour of the followers of
Mammy Wata as a symptomatology of a hysterical
kind, articulated through unresolved Oedipal con-
flicts and strong feelings of guilt (Wintrob 1970;
Ogrizek 1981-82), or through the expression of a
disturbed relationship between parents and children
(Ilechukwu 1990-91). b) On the other hand, in
a perspective very different from the medicalizing
ones, Szombati-Fabian and Fabian (1976) attribute
to the cult the possibility of marking in single in-
dividuals historical identities and events, “cultural
memories,” power relationships, and precise social
dynamics. In this perspective, Mammy Wata in-
carnates repressed desires such as the “prohibited
White Woman” and, more generally, the desire to
possess the same well-being as the White Man.
We will try to integrate these reflections with
the data we gathered in our research. The women
we work with have been considered “ill” and di-
agnosed - in the hospitals where they have been
admitted - as affected by serious “psychotic disor-
19 A young Edo woman reported as a proof of her identity as
an ogbanje child the fact that she heard voices calling her
by name. These voices had on the other hand accompanied
her for a long period of her life: Joy remembered that since
her childhood in Nigeria, she heard them calling her name.
Her mother, to avoid the worst, told her never to answer
these calls. The patient, in the course of a stay in hospital
for a syncope, underwent a psychiatric examination because
of her serious anxiety disorders. Through vague disorders,
events of illness, references to infancy, or to ritual practices
one glimpses the long and tiring identity negotiation of
someone who is “suspended” between multiple worlds.
ders.” At the same time, they are immigrant women,
caught in the identity flattery of being like the
White (obsession in the use of whitening creams),
caught up in the network of processes of social
mimesis. Moreover, these women are followers of
fraternities who have had experiences of possession
and share this knowledge or, to say it better, the
power of a knowledge. Taking on a historical per-
spective, we can add that the cult of Mammy Wata,
her icon, her changed ceremonial expressions, and
the bonds it forges in relationship with other cul-
tural constructs (ogbanje, for example), constitute
a particularly effective modality to classify, “se-
lect,” and control the world of alterities, even of
those represented by the social and cultural changes
introduced by colonial medicine and missionary
education, by migration and the market economy,
and by the transformation of the constraints of
family ties.
Drewal observes that the cult of Mammy Wata
can be considered an exemplary case of what Wag-
ner “calls the invention of culture, an ongoing
process of creating one’s reality, of constructing
meaning out of experience. ... Like anthropolo-
gists, Mammy Wata devotees ‘study’ others - over-
seas visitors - and generalise them from impres-
sions, experiences, and other evidence as if they
were produced by some external ‘thing’ ” (Drewal
1988: 160).20 * * * In this sense, this spirit of the waters
recalls in a single image the economic order (“she
brings monetary riches and wealth”), the religious
one (“she is a spirit of the watery underworld”), the
therapeutic one (“she gives troubles to the chosen
persons”), the social order (“she has no children,
no family of any kind and her devotees are out-
side the kinship system”) and the cultural one (“ns
a foreigner she provides alternatives to the estab-
lished cultural avenues”) (Drewal 1988: 161). Here
we have an excellent example of what Marie-Cecile
and Edmond Ortigues would call a “confusion of
genres.” It is precisely through this superimposi'
tion of the evoked discourses that Mammy Wata
continues to exercise her symbolic role contributing
20 Another Nigerian woman, from the area of Worn (on the
delta of the river Niger) and admitted to a psychiatric ward
of a Turin hospital, expressed her fear that “Dracula” could
harm her. The evocation of characters from European hter'
ature reminds us of what Bastian writes (1993: 151) on the
recurring references to vampires and witches in the Nigeria11
press. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, the iconogf3'
phy of Mammy Wata (Mamba Muntu) is massively present
in comics, in drawings on prisons’ walls, or on Web sites, id'
terweaving itself with the discourses of Christian churches,
superimposing itself on negative figures (“revenants,” eV1
spirits, Satan) or taking on the opposite traits which aI'e
decidedly positive.
Anthropos 101 -2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
441
to the construction of the reality of the people she
“chooses” as followers, to the interweaving of dif-
ferent registers, and to the legitimisation of “novel
modes of action” (Drewal 1988: 161).
We think that the most appropriate theoretical
strategy to adopt does not separate these and other
divergent interpretations, and, at the same time, it
questions, e.g., why the mythic-ritual complex does
not “reintegrate” these crises (or at least not with
the same degree of efficacy) in the context of mi-
gration. Furthermore, we believe it to be crucial to
analyse the sense of a belonging, which, although
not in absolute terms, remains nevertheless mostly
female.
7 Notes on “The Problem of Women”
The cult of Mammy Wata produces a real multi-
plication of the possible due to the ambiguity of
the discourses and practices that seems at times to
be followed intentionally by the participants of the
cult. It is appropriate to take up some hypotheses
that in recent years have been formulated around
the problem of the “different nature” of woman and
°f her greater proximity to the “savage”.
Edwin Ardener (1972) was one of the first to
rnise the question of the different nature of woman,
ffe formulated the controversial equation “woman :
uature; man : culture.”21 In analysing a Bakweri
Dtual (Western Cameroon), which is in many ways
aUalogous to that of Mammy Wata with the image
°f the woman-siren (liengu)22 and the reference
to the spirits of the waters, Ardener suggests the
following hypothesis: the “problem of woman” lies
111 the fact that she will insist on living in that
sPace which for men is the space of the wild, at
T*e margins of the untamed territories such as the
forest, the woods, the sea.
Other authors have taken up this perspective.
^berry Ortner (1974) assumes the question which
entitles her work as well, “Is Female to Male as
Mature Is to Culture?”, in order to explore the
condition of the subordination of women and the
Place of woman in the society. Although the au-
. °r recognises a culturally constructed dialectic
111 the “proximity” of woman to nature (“the cul-
lure/nature distinction is itself a product of cul-
Ure”), she nevertheless maintains that this equation
is ubiquitous and that woman finds herself, for the
most, occupying “an intermediate position between
culture and nature” (1974: 84-86). This interme-
diate position could produce, among other things,
a “symbolic ambiguity” characteristic of the female
condition. From such ambiguity issues the fact that
the woman could place herself (or be placed) within
and outside culture, becoming at the same time the
source of contradictory and ambivalent metaphors
and meanings.
However, Nicole-Claude Mathieu (1973) ex-
presses strong reservations about such hypotheses.
The generalisation of the condition of female sub-
ordination to the male is, in the first place, inap-
propriate (and there is no lack of counter exam-
ples calling for a rearticulation of such a model in
a more flexible manner: see Matory 1993). More-
over, according to Mathieu, assuming the equation
“woman = nature” would mean theorising the bio-
logical “culturality” of man and the biological “nat-
urality” of woman (as if placing them on an imag-
inary biological scale, a woman would be “more
natural” than a man).23 According to the author,
the same ritual analysis of liengu authorises other
readings; while it shows the “straying” of woman
into the wilderness territories, it also offers the
evidence of a will to socialise the savage world,
bringing it under control and promoting negotiation
with it.24 According to Ardener, naturalising the
identity between untamed or natural world, on the
one hand, and female world, on the other, entails
the risk of considering other connections as obvious
and not worthy of further reflections, like the con-
nection aimed at explaining the fact that possession
is most often female.25 A further reflection imposes
itself. When the places and the meanings of “wild”
change,26 - remembering that this word today is
associated less with the world of the forest and
more often with that of the metropolis and urban
contexts, the model of the woman as “physiologi-
cally” closer to the wildernesses of nature and to its
rhythms changes. Finally, there are more than a few
cases where the opposition between inhabited and
domesticated world of the village, on the one hand,
23 Such an approach would lead us to neglect that the
“ ‘reproductive’ force ... does not only concern women ...
Fecundity, in numerous societies, is also the business of
men” (Mathieu 1973: 108).
24 “This rite, like many others, ‘treats with’ the wild” (Mathieu
The article by Ardener develops along two lines, one
Methodological, and the other analytical-theoretical. Here
2j We take into consideration only the second.
Other references to this cult are reported by Eric de Rosny
0981, 1996).
1973: 109).
25 On naturalisation of the reasons why possession is preva-
lently a female experience see Nathan (1986).
26 We record, moreover, that not only culture but also history
contributes to the construction and delimitation of wilder-
ness, and the colonial history of Africa has exercised a deci-
sive role in this issue as well (see Neumann 2001).
442
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
and external world where meetings and exchanges
take place with the other, present inverted roles be-
tween men and women (to the former belongs the
relationship to the Foreigner, to the Other, and to
the latter the control of the “domesticated” space of
home and the village) (Boddy 1989).
Starting from these positions it seems to us that,
if the discourse of possession remains problematic
for the male-female couple, so does the relationship
between “human” and “not human” and the sta-
tus of the incarnate spirits we have discussed here.
“Figure-limite” par excellence (Zempléni 1985),
the daughters of Mammy Wata or the ogbanje chil-
dren impose themselves, after all, as entities, as
problematic existences because they oblige us to
rethink the relation between women, men, and chil-
dren who are totally human, and women, men, and
children who are incomplete in the sense that they
are not completely human. The latter are incom-
plete because the time of their socialisation has not
come yet - as, in the case of the children, with the
time for weaning - or because the socialisation has
not definitely “cut” the bonds with the world of
spirits - as it happens for other similar notions such
as the nit ku bon in Senegal, or the “cord-children”
in Cameroon.
Such representations put into question borders
and categories, they make identity fluid and cre-
ate new territories, new bodies, in which different
logics and registers (the male and the female, the
human and the nonhuman) come into confluence,
not without conflict. In this regard, Mammy Wata
is, once again, an exemplary figure: female spirit
but at the same time “spiritual husband”; mother
and husband together; spirit incarnated in attractive
bodies that move around in market places, amongst
people; woman-fish or siren who, by virtue of this
duplicity, represents a sort of third gender never
reducible only to the human nor to the nonhuman,
neither male nor female, neither of the world of the
living nor of that of the dead. The life of these be-
ings, which we have learned to recognise under the
skin of immigrant women and prostitutes, seems
dominated by uncertainty and doubt, because it can
suddenly break off and resist any attempt of a cure.
Many of the women we have met often referred to
the fear of not knowing any longer how to control
this alterity. This fear expresses, again, the ambiva-
lent nature of these relations, where the relation-
ships of force can change signs at any moment, and
the possibility to exist remains suspended between
success, failure, or illness, between life and death.
In a moment of serious crisis, including even the
risk of suicide, a Nigerian woman confirmed it in
her own words: “You cannot understand ... I am
really different. People like me don’t eat ... If I
must die, it’s better not to wait.”
Referring to similar issues and, in particular, un-
derlining the uncertainty which distinguishes the
identity of such cas-limite, Zempléni (1985; 25)
speaks of “degree zero” of identity (in the case
of the children nit ku bon, possessed by ancestral
spirits, rah, or themselves ancestral spirits, enfants
échangés). The nature of these children would ges-
ture always and only towards itself, as if these be-
ings represented the inverse of a human person,
and along with it, the Other, the foreigner by def-
inition. An aspect no less meaningful and no less
contradictory is that the nit ku bon children, like
the daughters of Mammy Wata, are generally per-
ceived and described as hard-headed protagonists
of events and completely in control (“subjects”) of
their own existence.
8 Border’s Bodies, Bodies as Borders
A boundary is not the point at which something
stops ...
A boundary is the point from where something
begins to be present.
(Igbo proverb)
Our discussion about the more ordinary dimensions
of possession and its expressions within migratory
phenomena started off by putting into question the
claim of a conceptual unity of possession (Col-
leyn 1996). We then attempted to follow a trajec-
tory similar to the one Geschiere (1995) and other
researchers have traced in their reflections on the
notion of witchcraft in Africa.27 * Such a notion is
examined in its “everydayness” and in its intricate
relationships to modernity. It incorporates in its im-
ages and practices the changing forms of power
and violence, of accumulation and individualism,
of conflict and solitude. The profiles we have illus-
trated (the antisocial dimensions of power sough!
by the followers of Mammy Wata, the search f°r
an individual well-being indifferent to family con-
straints, the conception of personal power as the
capacity to incorporate alterity) recall some of
the profiles recognised in contemporary forms of
witchcraft in Africa. We believe that, beyond the
connections to processes of modernity brought to
light both in possession and in sorcery (Comarou
and Comaroff 1993), the frequent references of th^
women to the logic and the phenomenology both ot
27 “Our understanding will advance when ‘witchcraft’ is alia
lytically dissolved into a larger frame of reference” (Cric >
quoted in Pool 1994: 16).
101.2006
Anthropos
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
443
sorcery and of possession need further explanation.
In order to investigate this kind of experiences, we
make use of the “embodiment paradigm” (Csordas
1990) and its recent developments.
The literature makes explicit references to the
nexus between witchcraft and possession (J. H.
Smith 2001:433). More particularly, de Boeck
makes explicit reference to this nexus with regard
to children accused of witchcraft in Kinshasa
(Democratic Republic of Congo). In the history
of Esther, a girl accused of being a witch, the
connection between witchcraft and Mammy Wata
became particularly evident (de Boeck 2000: 44).
At the same time, witchcraft and possession - both
figures of the frontier implicated in the strategies
of distancing one’s self from family bonds and
of searching for a personal power on the part of
Women or adolescents28 - overlap almost naturally
m the experiences of the Nigerian women we have
met in Turin. In the recall of events preceding
migration, or in the interpretation of illnesses and
daily problems, their words slide imperceptibly
and continually from the register of possession to
that of witchcraft and vice versa.
Although these experiential and conceptual ter-
ritories are sometimes considered separate, they ac-
tually share a common logic: that of contract and
°f infinite debt, that of slavery and of dependence.
Moreover, the power and the force hidden in the
game are, in both cases, characterised by an irre-
ducible ambivalence, which the discourses and the
interpretations of sorcery on the part of the mis-
smnaries almost never managed to understand or
tolerate. A further aspect justifies this parallel: it
18 the analogous theory of action which underlies
these phenomena, a theory which is connected to
specific conceptions of power and to no less precise
^presentations of the individual (the possibility of
doubling, of metamorphosis, etc.). Finally, through
new “affiliations,” both witchcraft and possession
Produce a dangerous breach in family and social
bonds.
For an immigrant woman “to individualise one-
Self” can signify “to force herself to think” of the
sPirits which live within her, or of the trajectory
initiation started years before following an ill-
ness or a misfortune, in new terms and especially
ln reference to her own current projects of wealth
^nd power. Far from the sound of drums, from the
ances, from the hierarchy of the brotherhood, in
de absence of a ritual time articulating the times
crisis and negotiating the forms and meanings
28 In Kinshasa to become a witch is certainly a means to
Valise such independence” (de Boeck 2000: 50).
'Whr
of the suffering, other logics can break in (for ex-
ample, those of competition, of suspicion, and of
envy). When the ritual action is reproduced in soli-
tude, in the uncertainty of its real power and, es-
pecially, in the terror accompanying the experience
of “dubious signs” (Barthes quoted by Szombati-
Fabian and Fabian 1976: 14), it risks becoming a
reiteration of gestures whose symbolic values are
mitigated or reproduced with difficulty. It becomes
mere simulacra whose efficacy is more difficult to
reaffirm once there is no possibility to socialise
that incarnate alterity, to share that “daily theatre”
which is possession, as it is for those algae and
corals which lose the brilliance and harmony of
their movements once they are left on the beach by
the sea. Therefore, as the vicissitudes of many im-
migrant women have shown, it is not surprising that
it is precisely when the dreams related to Mammy
Wata become more frequent, when there are more
signs revealing her presence in their own bodies,
or when more decisive calls come from their own
country and family as a reminder of the belonging
to the cult, that the swarming of the “worms”29
becomes more insistent and the illnesses become
more troublesome or distressing. This situation
makes the report of the illness and the search for a
cure oscillating towards biomedicine, amongst the
meanings, values, and images of their condition of-
fered within the scenario of the host country.
Though possession represents an ordinary, wide-
spread, and common experience (Sharp 1993),
it nevertheless remains crucial because it consti-
tutes for the women we have met a social prac-
tice that encourages certain kinds of actions, dis-
courses, contrasts, and emotions. This very practice
is particularly appropriate to articulate the prob-
lems posed for the individual by displacement,
loneliness, and the challenges of modernity.30 By
recognizing the “ordinary” dimension of posses-
29 On this “illness entity” in West Africa, cf. Olivier de Sar-
dan (1998); see also Bierlich (1995) and Wenzel Geissler
(1998). “Worms” are a good example of embodied metaphor.
Here again we find a particular expression of metaphors’
functioning, and we can see how individuals try to cre-
ate new meaning in social interaction by (cultural or indi-
vidual) metaphors. Finally, we should remember what Kir-
mayer says on “politics of metaphors” and medical authority
(1992: 340).
30 In order not to remain prisoner of a “meta-narrative” (En-
glund and Leach 2000), we stress that here we are using the
term modernity especially as an equivalent of “contempo-
raneity,” and that we make ours the definition put forward
by Geschiere, who proposes the use of the term modernity
“in the sense of an ideal or even of a never fulfilled myth of
the autonomy of the individual, a scientific approach which
renders the world ever more transparent, but also the access
to the new technology and to consumer goods” (2000; 18).
'opos 101.2006
444
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
sion as the most complex trait to interpret and, at
the same time, as its original cipher, we can move
successfully from an anthropology of possession to
an anthropology of the possessed. By this we mean
an anthropology which derives from the experi-
ences, biographies, and accounts of the possessed
the structure and meaning of possession.
A second consideration concerns the subjective
experience of possession which we have been able
to gather in the accounts of the women we have met
at the Centro Frantz Fanón. Possession by spirits
of the waters, or by divinities from the religious
pantheon of the Igbo, Yoruba, Ibo, etc. is a fa-
miliar experience among the Nigerian immigrant
women in Italy, but since it is no longer carried out
in its original context, it is caught in other dilem-
mas, promises, or uncertainties, thus becoming at
the same time foreign and “uncanny” in the psy-
choanalytic sense of the term. The relation with a
spirit, which assumes in some cases the forms of a
perennial alliance, conflictual and ambivalent as it
might be (a marriage with a “husband” or, in other
cases, with a “spiritual wife”) situates possession
among the exemplary forms of bonds to alterity,
or better of realisations of possible alterities. The
case of another patient gives an example of these
difficult relationships.
Princess, a young Nigerian woman of royal
origins temporally out of the prostitution scene, re-
ported her dizziness, heart palpitations (which were
“inexplicable” from the medical point of view),
and strange and worrying sensations (“someone
seems to arrive suddenly and unexpectedly and to
push me, making me fair). One day, she showed
us a scar on her right arm to prove that she is the
reincarnation of a maternal great-grandmother.
She was offering a testimony as simple as it was
peremptory of what we can define “cultural, incar-
nated memory.” In fact, this small mark on her arm,
that trivial scar, was speaking about her origins,
her biography (which did not begin, however, on
the day of her birth), the history of her lineage,
and of her conflicts (that great-grandmother was
repudiated by her husband because she could not
give him a son). That little scar was a testimony;
a theory of the person, and of his/her making. That
sign became, finally, the occasion to speak of an
invisible world and of a difficult membership to
sustain. When she was a child, her playmates and
neighbours perceived her as a “strange” child and
called her igbakwan, which gave her more than
a few problems. The paternal grandmother is a
renowned priestess of Olokun (Mammy Wata), and
every three years she celebrates a festival which
brings hundreds of people even from quite distant
villages in search of a cure. In this ceremony,
her mother and sister participate as protagonists
and Princess videotaped it. She later brought the
tape to one of our meetings. Princess watches this
ceremony with great uneasiness, because she “does
not believe in it” and never wanted to be made
a devotee of the cult. When she arrived in Turin,
some Nigerian immigrant women “recognised” her
as an igbakwan/ogbanje, which brought back the
old uneasiness of her childhood (for the notions
of Igbakwan, ogbanje, and Olokun, useful insights
are in the novels of Sole Woyinka, Ben Okri and
Chinua Achebe). Such an experience becomes
tolerable for an individual only as long as precise
obligations and strange relationships are accepted.
We have to consider the expression of a fur-
ther paradox, that of a reciprocal incorporation (or
if preferred of a reciprocal possession), which is
sometimes described in the literature as “ieroga-
mia,” “family ritual,” “fusion and consecration.”
Narrating this uncanny experience is at the same
time a way by which people try to give meaning
to this incorporation and to tame their “troubling”
dimension.31 Whatever this bond signifies, and to
whatever extent it interweaves with other relations,
other experiences (those of suffering and loneli-
ness, or of exploitation and prostitution), it remains
a venture with an uncertain outcome of which we
have only begun to trace possible unfolding. We
think that, within this scenario, the suffering of
their bodies, their uneasiness assume a more com-
prehensible and more “perspicuous” (Wittgenstein
1953: 122) profile. In order to understand this pro-
file the psychiatric categories have little pertinence.
As pointed out earlier, it is important to recog-
nise the mimetic value entrusted to the body. The
iconography of Mammy Wata has a complex geo-
graphical origin. It seems to have come from In-
dia and, then, to have been transmitted throughout
Africa by the Europeans. If, on the one hand, her
more recent stylistic evolutions (beside the serpent
and the woman-siren sunglasses, cosmetic prod-
ucts, and other symbols of vanity and of power are
gradually added) represent an excellent matrix of
mimetic effects, on the other hand, it constitutes an
exemplary witnessing of that game of mirrors and
of complementarily characterizing the interplay of
cultural dynamics.32 But mimesis does not mean
31 Garro 2003. Generally on illness narratives see Good 1994
Kleinman 1988.
32 “Remarkably, this image symbolized the exotic Other f°r
two vastly different cultural areas in the world: she 'vaS
a mysterious, sensuous Oriental snake charmer for Eur°'
peans, but a European water spirit for Africans!” (Dre^3
1988: 170).
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
445
mere reproduction nor simple imitation: by virtue
of its own power, it somehow transforms the object
of mimesis, making it different (grotesque, for ex-
ample, or even more potent), adding “supplemen-
tary” meanings.33 Finally, it seems to be impor-
tant to associate to the notion of mimesis that of
metamorphosis (metamorphosis of a body, a real
ever-present event, as the history of Grace testifies
well). We can assert with Pardon that in the case
of these women at the centre of our reflections,
“metamorphosis crucially informs ... expectations
of the possible. While endorsing the boundaries of
categories, metamorphosis questions the stability
of category membership” (1990: 42).
In the events we have encountered, and begin-
ning from a body incessantly buzzing, possession
seems thus to indicate an urgent need to reaffirm
a conflictual identity which is both a bond and a
memory that have become laborious to sustain (to
represent, or better to “carry out,” in the sense Vic-
tor Turner [1982] recognised in the etymology of
the verb to perform). The methodological options
We are alluding to allow, in their totality, to avoid
the risk of essentialising the notion of “the African
Person,” and to bring the attention back to the con-
crete “exercise of existence,” to the “meaningful
acts” these individuals carry out in their daily life
(Kaphagawani 2000; Mbembe 2000, 2001). Once
again, through this trajectory we take up the invita-
tion of de Martino (1977,1996) to apply in research
the systematic and interweaving analyses of the re-
lationships of force, sense, and concrete existence
111 which all these express themselves.
Furthermore can we avoid a consideration of the
r°le of the common condition of the women we
have met: the fact that this study deals with women
^ho have shared, for a more or less extensive pe-
ri°d, a specific experience, whose meaning can-
not be disregarded in the comprehension of their
Possession, that of being women who have pros-
htuted themselves, whose body has been a body
Possessed, or better dispossessed, taken in the di-
alcctic of the sexual imaginary of the host society,
submitted to blackmail and menaces or to the ma-
niPulation which has been superimposed on them,
from time to time, in the moral and medical dis-
courses. A body which has been captured by the
l0gic of mimetic adherence, which strains to realise
fr'oams of wealth and power of ambiguous expres-
sions, which expresses desires, identity, and hege-
monic motives, shared at least in part, by that com-
33 Argenti 1998; see Bayart (2000) on the concept of “extraver-
sion,” that well meets in many cases the biographies of im-
migrants we met in the Centro Frantz Fanon.
Anth
plex economic, narrative, and social figure which
in Western Africa goes under the name of “market
mammies” or “Mammy Benz.”
The subjugation of the bodies (and of female
bodies, in particular), underlined by Kasfir (1998)
as one of the main characteristics of the Mammy
Wata cults, cannot operate among these women
in the customary forms nor according to a regime
which reasserts the exercise of a socially recog-
nised power (the possessed as “respected agents of
power”; Colleyn 1996). Their condition as clandes-
tine immigrant women, besieged by envy of their
compatriots and united by temporary bonds with
their friends-clients, makes every strategy aimed at
gathering and accumulating economic capital and
“symbolic capital” (Bourdieu 1972) contradictory
and at the same time uncertain. This subjugation
can now move along the unexpected lines of a stub-
born illness and resistance to therapy, in the silence
of an interior monologue made up of dilemmas and
anxiety (Beneduce 1999). Having said this, even
the usually recognised mnemotechnical value of the
ritual of possession raises another reflection about
memory. In fact, when it can no longer be shared,
speaking of “memory” becomes in the end less le-
gitimate. The body can indeed be the place of an
incarnate memory, which is obsessively revisited,
endlessly interrogated, in solitude, being by now
distant from that social sense which connotes the
forms of possession described by Stoller (1994),
Makris (1996), and Lambek (1993). In these cases
it is made into “moral practices” of a cultural and
collective memory. The body, the body-capital of
our patients, is interrogated in its slightest mur-
murs, in its unusual symptoms, in the spasmodic
search for a “value” (even in the economic sense
of the term), for a response to its own obsessions
with identity; a body which, even when revealing
a possible “sense,” makes itself again a bond-body
because it is tied to the incarnated spirit, to the dif-
ferent forms of belonging, to those bonds of which
one seeks in vain to take leave and towards which
one has contracted a debt as singular as it is inex-
tinguishable. According to Low (1994: 157), bodily
experiences are metaphors able to mediate the rela-
tionships between Self and culture. In our patients
we can easily recognise that body not only sym-
bolically mediates these relationships: it expresses
their crisis, their continuity, and their ruptures. With
their symptoms and uneasiness, the bodies of these
possessed women - who are at the same time un-
certain of the meaning and value of this experience
- are also the particular expression of a struggle
for power whose definition is not exhausted in that
of material possession but extends to the ability to
lropos 101.2006
446
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
“nominate others as equal or unequal, animate or
inanimate, memorable or abject, discussant or dis-
cussed” (David Parkin, quoted in Sharp 1993: 8).
R. Beneduce (author of paragraphs 1-3, 8) and S. Taliani
(author of paragraphs 4-7) thank Nicolas Argenti and
Stefania Pandolfo who read the first version of the article
for their suggestions and comments.
References Cited
Achebe, Chinwe
1986 The World of the Ogbanje. Enugu: Fourth Dimension
Publishers.
Adouane, Soraya
2001-02 La pratique du vodou haïtien à Paris. Psychopatholo-
gie africaine 31: 69-92.
Ardener, Edwin
1972 Belief and the Problem of Women. In: J. S. La Fontaine
(ed.), The Interpretation of Ritual. Essays in Honour of
A. I. Richards; pp. 135-158. London: Tavistock Publi-
cations.
Argenti, Nicolas
1998 Air Youth. Performance, Violence, and the State in
Cameroon. The Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute 4: 753-781.
2001 Kesum-Body and the Places of the Gods. The Politics of
Children’s Masking and Second-World Realities in Oku
(Cameroon). The Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute 7: 67-94.
Ashforth, Adam
1998 Witchcraft, Violence, and Democracy in the New South
Africa. Cahiers d’Etudes africaines 38/150-152: SOS-
532.
Augé, Marc
1982 Génie du paganisme. Paris: Éditions Gallimard.
1988 Le Dieu objet. Paris: Flammarion.
Bastían, Misty L.
1993 “Bloodhounds Who Have No Friends.” Witchcraft and
Locality in the Nigerian Popular Press. In: J. Comaroff
and J. Comaroff (eds.); pp. 129-166.
1997 Married in the Water. Spirit Kin and Other Afflictions of
Modernity in Southeasthem Nigeria. Journal of Religion
in Africa 27: 116-134.
Bayart, Jean-François
2000 Africa in the World. A History of Extraversión. African
Affairs 99: 217-267.
Behrend, Heike, and Ute Luig (eds.)
1999 Spirit Possession. Modernity and Power in Africa. Ox-
ford: James Currey.
Beneduce, Roberto
1999 Scritture del corpo, memoria e mimesi nei process! mi-
grator!. Il de Martino. Bollettino delTIstituto Ernesto de
Martino 9: 79-91.
2000 Entre plusieurs mondes. Discours, acteurs et pratiques
de la possession en Afrique. Paris. [Thèse de Doctorat
en Anthropologie et Ethnologie, EHESS]
2002 Trance e possessione in Africa. Corpi, mimesi, storia.
Torino: Bollati Boringhieri.
Beneduce, Roberto, and Pompeo Martelli
2005 Politics of Healing and Politics of Culture. Ethnopsychi-
atry, Identities, and Migration. Transcultural Psychiatry
42/3: 367-393.
Bierlich, Bernhard
1995 Notions and Treatment of Guinea Worm in Northern
Ghana. Soc. Science & Medicine 41: 501-509.
Boddy, Janice
1989 Wombs and Alien Spirits. Women, Men, and the Zar
Cult in Northern Sudan. Madison: The University of
Wisconsin Press.
Bourdieu, Pierre
1972 Esquisse d’une théorie de la pratique. Paris: Seuil.
Capone, Stefania, et Viola Teisenhoffer
2001-02 Devenir médium à Paris. Apprentissage et adaptation
dans l’implantation d’un terreiro candomblé en France.
Psychopathologie africaine 31: 127-156.
Cartry, Michel
1988 Dal villaggio alla boscaglia о il ritorno della questione.
In: M. Izard e P. Smith (eds.), La funzione simbolica;
pp. 246-267. Palermo: Sellerio Editore. [1979]
Colleyn, Jean-Paul
1996 Entre les dieux et les hommes. Quelques considérations
atypiques sur la notion de culte de possession. Cahiers
d’Études africains 36/144: 723-738.
Comaroff, Jean, and John L. Comaroff
1999a Alien-Nation. Zombies, Immigrants, and Millennial
Capitalism. Bulletin du Codesria 3&4: 17-27.
1999b Occult Economies and the Violence of Abstraction-
Notes from the South African Postcolony. American Eth-
nologist 26: 279-303.
2000 Millennial Capitalism. First Thoughts on a Second Corn-
ing. Public Culture 12/2: 291-343.
Comaroff, Jean, and John L. Comaroff (eds.)
1993 Modernity and Its Malcontents. Ritual and Power in
Postcolonial Africa. Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press.
Corin, Ellen
1976 Zebola. Une psychothérapie communautaire en milieu
urbain. Psychopathologie africaine 12/3: 349-390.
1995 Cultural Frame. Context and Meaning in the Construc-
tion of Health. In; B. Amick, III et al. (eds.), Society
and Health; pp. 272-304. New York: Oxford University
Press.
Csordas, J. Thomas
1990 Embodiment as a Paradigm for Anthropology. Ethos 1&:
5-47.
De Boeck, Filip
2000 Le “deuxième monde” et les “enfants-sorciers” en Répu-
blique démocratique du Congo. Politique africaine 80-
32-57.
De Martino, Ernesto
1977 La fine del mondo. Torino: Einaudi.
1995 Storia e metastoria. Lecce; Argo.
1996 La terra del rimorso. Milano: Il Saggiatore.
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
447
Drewal, Henry J.
1988 Performing the Other. Mammy Wata Worship in Africa.
The Drama Review 32/2: 160-185.
England, Harri, and James Leach
2000 Ethnography and the Meta-Narratives of Modernity.
Current Anthropology 41: 225-248.
Pardon, Richard
1990 Between God, the Dead, and the Wild. Chamba Interpre-
tations of Religion and Ritual. Washington: Smithsonian
Institution Press.
Fisiy, F. Cyprian, et Peter Geschiere
1993 Sorcellerie et accumulation, variations régionales. In:
P. Geschiere et P. Konings (éds.), Itinéraires d’accumu-
lation au Cameroun; pp. 99-131. Paris: Karthala.
Eisiy, F. Cyprian, and Mitzi Goheen
1998 Power and the Quest for Recognition. Neo-Traditional
Titles among the New Elite in Nso’, Cameroon. Africa
68: 383-402
F rank, Barbara
1995 Permitted and Prohibited Wealth. Commodity-Possess-
ing Spirits, Economic Morals, and the Goddess Mami
Wata in West Africa. Ethnology 34: 331-346.
Garro, C. Linda
2003 Narrating Troubling Experiences. Transcultural Psychi-
atry 40/1: 5-43.
Geissler, Paul Wenzel
1998 Worms Are Our Life. Part 1: Understandings of Worms
and the Body among the Luo of Western Kenya. An-
thropology & Medicine 5/2: 63-80; Part 2: Luo Chil-
dren’s Thoughts about Worms and Illness. Anthropology
& Medicine 5/2: 133-144.
Holmberg, David
1989 Order in Paradox. Myth, Ritual, and Exchange among
Nepal’s Tamang. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Ilechukwu, Sunny T. C.
1990-91 Ogbanje/Abiku. A Cultural-Bound Construct of
Childhood and Family Psychopathology in West Africa.
Psychopathologie africaine 23: 19-59.
1991 Review of Chinwe Achebe 1986. Transcultural Psychi-
atric Research Review 28: 141-148.
Inyama, Nnadozie
1992 The “Rebel Girl” in West African Literature. Variations
on a Folklore Theme. In; R. Granqvist and N. Inyama
(eds.), Power and Powerlessness of Women in West
African Orality, pp. 109-121. Urnea: Printing Office of
Umeâ University.
Izard, Michel
1985 Le sexe des ancêtres. Journal des africanistes 55: 85-
92.
Jell-Bahlsen, Sabine
1997 Eze Mmiri Di Egwu, The Water Monarch Is Awesome.
Reconsidering the Mammy Water Myths. In: F. E. S.
Kaplan (ed.), Queens, Queen Mothers, Priestesses, and
Power. Case Studies in African Gender; pp. 103-134.
New York: The New York Academy of Sciences. (An-
nals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 810)
Kaphagawani, Didier N.
2000 Some African Conceptions of Person. A Critique. In:
I. Karp and D. A. Masolo (eds.), African Philosophy
as Cultural Inquiry; pp. 66-79. Bloomington: Indiana
University Press.
Geschiere, Peter
'995 Sorcellerie et politique en Afrique. La viande des autres.
Paris: Karthala.
2000 Sorcellerie et modernité. Retour sur une étrange compli-
cité. Politique africaine 79: 17-32.
Gibbal, Jean-Marie
'982 Tambours d’ eau. Journal et enquête sur un culte de
possession au Mali occidental. Paris: Le Sycomore.
Gondola, Didier
'999 La sape des mikilistes. Théâtre de l’artifice et représen-
tation onirique. Cahiers d’Etudes africaines 39/153: 13-
47.
Good, Byron J.
994 Medicine, Rationality, and Experience. An Anthropo-
logical Perspective. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
n
'0re, Charles, and Joseph Nevadomsky
y97 Practice and Agency in Mammy Wata Worship in South-
ern Nigeria. African Arts 30/2: 60-69, 95.
packing, Ian
98 L’âme réécrite. Étude sur la personnalité multiple et les
sciences de la mémoire. Le Plessis-Robinson: Institut
Synthélabo. [Orig. 1995]
G alloy, Arnaud
91 -02 Un candomblé en Belgique. Traces ethnographiques
d’une tentative d’installation et ses difficultés. Psycho-
pathologie africaine 31; 93-126.
Kasfir, Sidney Littlefield
1998 Elephant Women, Furious and Majestic. Women’s Mas-
querades in Africa and the Diaspora. African Arts 31/2:
18-27, 92.
Kirmayer, Laurence J.
1992 The Body’s Insistence on Meaning. Metaphor as Presen-
tation and Representation in Illness Experience. Medical
Anthropological Quarterly 64/4: 323-346.
Kleinman, Arthur
1988 The Illness Narratives. Suffering, Healing, and the Hu-
man Condition. New York; Basic Books.
Lambek, Michael
1980 Spirits and Spouses. Possession as a System of Com-
munication among the Malagasy Speakers of Mayotte.
American Ethnologist 7: 318-331.
1993 Knowledge and Practice in Mayotte. Local Discourses
of Islam, Sorcery, and Spirit Possession. Toronto: Uni-
versity of Toronto Press.
Leiris, Michel
1989 La possession et ses aspects théâtraux chez les Éthio-
piens de Gondar. Paris; Fata Morgana.
Low, Setha M.
1994 Embodied Metaphors. Nerves as Lived Experience. In:
T. J. Csordas (ed.), Embodiment and Experience. The
Existential Ground of Culture and Self; pp. 139-162.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
^nth
lropos 101.2006
448
Roberto Beneduce and Simona Taliani
Makris, G. P.
1996 Slavery, Possession, and History. The Construction of
the Self among Slave Descendants in the Sudan. Africa
66; 159-182.
Mathieu, Nicole-Claude
1973 Homme-culture et femme-nature ? L’Homme 13/3: 101 —
113.
Matory, J. Lorand
1993 Government by Seduction. History and the Tropes of
“Mounting” in Oyo-Yoruba Religion. In: J. Comaroff
and J. Comaroff (eds.); pp. 58-85.
Mbembe, Achille
2000 A propos des écritures africaines de soi. Politique afri-
caine 77: 16-43.
2001 On the Postcolony. Studies on the History of Society and
Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Métraux, Alfred
1955 La comédie rituelle. Diogène 11: 26-49.
Monga, Yvette Djachechi
2000 Dollars and Lipstick. The United States through the Eyes
of African Women. Africa 70: 192-208.
Nathan, Tobie
1986 Hystérie ou possession. (Prolégomènes à une théorie eth-
nopsychanalytique de la conversion hystérique.) Revue
de Médecine Psychosomatique 27/5; 11-21.
Neumann, Roderick P.
2001 Africa’s “Last Wilderness.” Reordering Space for Polit-
ical and Economic Control in Colonial Tanzania. Africa
71: 641-665.
Nevadomsky, Joseph, and Norma Rosen
1988 The Initiation of a Priestess. Performance and Imagery
in Olokun Ritual. The Drama Review 32/2: 186-207.
Obeyesekere, Gananath
1985 Depression, Buddhism, and the Work of Culture in Sri
Lanka. In: A. Kleinman and B. Good (eds.), Culture
and Depression. Studies in the Anthropology and Cross-
Cultural Psychiatry of Affect and Disorder; pp. 134—
152. Berkeley: University of California Press.
1990 The Work of Culture. Symbolic Transformation in Psy-
choanalysis and Anthropology. Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press.
Ogrizek, Michel
1981-82 Mami Wata, les envoûtées de la sirène. Psychothéra-
pie collective de l’hystérie en pays Batsangui au Congo,
suivie d’un voyage mythologique en Centrafrique. Ca-
hiers O.R.S.T.O.M., Série Sciences Humaines 18:
433-443.
Olivier de Sardan, Jean-Pierre
1993 La surinterprétation politique. Les cultes de possession
hawka du Niger. In : J.-F. Bayart (dir.), Religion et
modernité politique en Afrique Noire. Dieu pour tous et
chacun pour soi; pp. 163-213. Paris: Éditions Karthala.
1994 Possession, affliction et folie. Les ruses de la thérapisa-
tion. L’Homme 131: 7-27.
1998 Illness Entities in West Africa. Anthropology & Medicine
5/2; 193-218.
Ong, Aihwa
1987 Spirits of Resistance and Capitalist Discipline. Fac-
tory Women in Malaysia. Albany: New York University
Press.
Ortigues, Marie-Cécile, et Edmond Ortigues
1984 Œdipe africain. Paris: L’Harmattan.
Ortner, Sherry B.
1974 Is Female to Male as Nature Is to Culture? In: M. Z.
Rosaldo and L. Lamphere (eds.), Women, Culture, and
Society; pp. 67-87. Stanford; Stanford University Press.
Pool, Robert
1994 On the Creation and Dissolution of Ethnomédical Sys-
tems in the Medical Ethnography of Africa. Africa 64:
1-20.
Quaranta, Ivo
2002 Potere, corpi e sofferenza nel regno di Nso’. Un’analisi
antropologica dell’AIDS nelle Grassfields del Camerun.
Torino. [Unpublished Ph. D. dissertation, University of
Turin]
Ratliff, Eric A.
1999 Women as “Sex Workers,” Men as “Boyfriends.” Shift-
ing Identies in Philippines Go-Go Bars and Their Signif-
icance in STD/AIDS Control. Anthropology & Medicine
6/1: 79-102.
Reynolds, Pamela
1996 Traditional Healers and Childhood in Zimbabwe.
Athens: Ohio University Press.
Rosny, Eric de
1981 Les yeux de ma chèvre. Sur les pas des maîtres de la nuit
en pays Douala (Cameroun). Paris: Librairie Plon.
1996 La nuit, les yeux ouverts. Paris: Éditions du Seuil.
Rouch, Jean
1954 Les maîtres fous. [Film]
Salmons, Jill
1977 Mammy Wata. African Arts 10/3: 8-15, 87-88.
Sharp, Leslie
1993 Possessed and Dispossessed. Spirit, Identity, and Power
in a Madagascar Migrant Town. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Smith, Daniel Jordan
2001a “The Arrow of God.” Pentecostalism, Inequality, and the
Supernatural in South-Eastern Nigeria. Africa 71: 587-
613.
2001b Ritual Killing, 419, and Fast Wealth. Inequality and the
Popular Imagination in Southeastern Nigeria. American
Ethnologist 28: 803-826.
Smith, James H.
2001 Of Spirit Possession and Structural Adjustment Pr°'
grams. Government Downsizing, Education, and Their
Enchantments in Neo-Liberal Kenya. Journal of Reh'
gion in Africa 31: 427-456.
Somer, Eliezer, and Meir Saadon
2000 Stambali. Dissociative Possession and Trance in a
Tunisian Healing Dance. Transcultural Psychiatry 37-
580-600.
Speziale, Fabrizio, e Elisabetta Passalacqua
1998 Stati “sottili” di coscienza nei rituali sûfi dhikr e shish- A
caso della confratemita Khalwatiyya di Firenze. Antra-
pologia Medica 6-1: 171-188.
Anthropos 101.2006
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies
449
Stoller, Paul
1994 Embodying Colonial Memories. American Anthropolo-
gist 96: 634-648.
Szombati-Fabian, Ilona, and Johannes Fabian
1976 Art, History, and Society. Popular Painting in Shaba,
Zaire. Studies in the Anthropology of Visual Communi-
cation 3: 1 —21.
Turner, Victor
1982 From Ritual to Theatre. The Human Seriousness of Play.
New York: Performing Arts Journal Publications.
Van Dijk, Rijk
2001 “Voodoo” on the Doorstep. Young Nigerian Prostitutes
and Magic Policing in the Netherlands. Africa 71: 558-
586.
Vincent, Jeanne-Françoise
1971 Divination et possession chez les Mofu, montagnards du
Nord-Cameroun. Journal de la Société des Africanistes
41: 71-132.
Wintrob, Rudolph
1970 Mammy Water. Folk Beliefs and Psychotic Elaborations.
Canadian Psychiatric Association Journal 15: 143-174.
Wittgenstein, Ludwig
1953 Philosophical Investigation. Oxford: Basic Blackwell.
Zempléni, Andras
1985 L’enfant Nit Ku Bon. Un tableau psychopathologique
traditionnel chez les Wolof et les Lebou du Sénégal.
Nouvelle Revue d’Ethnopsychiatrie 4: 9-42.
Vnthr
'°pos 101.2006
STUDIA INSTITUTI ANTHROPOS 51
Karl Josef Rivinius
Il ir
Mìa
Mr
r
Im Dienst
der Mission
und der
Wissenschaft
Zur Entstehungs-
geschichte
der Zeitschrift
Anthropos
nü
m*
Karl Josef Rivinius
Im Dienst der Mission und
der Wissenschaft
Zur Entstehungsgeschichte
der Zeitschrift Anthropos
Reihe : Studia Instituti Anthropos, Band 51
Angesichts des im 19. Jahrhundertzunehmen-
den Interesses für Völkerkunde und Sprach-
wissenschaft dachte P. Wilhelm Schmidt
SVD an die Gründung einer entsprechenden
Fachzeitschrift. Sie sollte den Missionaren die
Möglichkeit bieten, darin ihre völkerkundli-
chen und sprachwissenschaftlichen Arbeiten
zu publizieren, außerdem sie zu Forschungen
in ihrem jeweiligen Lebens- und Wirkungsbe-
reich motivieren und anleiten. Schmidt legte zudem besonderen Wert auf den wissen-
schaftlichen Charakter der Zeitschrift, weshalb er von Anfang an Fachgelehrten, Nicht-
katholiken eingeschlossen, die aktive Mitarbeit anbot. In Februar 1906 erschien das
erste Heft der neuen Zeitschrift für Völker- und Sprachenkunde Anthropos. Vorliegende
Studie behandelt die Genese der Zeitschrift sowie ihre wechselvolle Entwicklung in ih-
rem weiteren historischen und situativen Kontext bis zum Jahr 1909.
Karl Josef Rivinius SVD, Jahrgang 1936, Prof, für Mittlere und Neuere Kirchengeschich-
te mit Einschluss der Missionsgeschichte. Von 1976 bis 2004 Lehrtätigkeit an der Phil.-
Theol. Hochschule SVD St. Augustin. Studium der Theologie, Geschichte und Erzie-
hungswissenschaften in St. Gabriel, Mödling bei Wien, Sankt Augustin und Münster.
Zahlreiche Veröffentlichungen aus den Bereichen Historische Theologie, Missions- und
Sozialgeschichte.
352 Seiten, broschiert,
Fr. 75.-/€50.-
ISBN 3-7278-1528-0
AC ADEMPTU c c
PRESS
FRIB
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 451-471
Joseph the Smith
and the Salvational Transformation of Matter
in Early Medieval Europe
Mary W. Helms
Abstract. - In early medieval Western Europe, Joseph, the
earthly father of Jesus, was identified occupationally not only
as a domestic woodworker but also as a blacksmith, the most
Mysterious, powerful, and sacrosanct category of supematurally
endowed skilled crafting known to traditional nonindustrial soci-
eties. After reviewing skilled crafting and especially smithing as
rUual processes, this essay considers typological identification
°f Joseph the smith as earthly parallel of the Deus artifex and as
symbolic of the purifying (salvational) transformation of earthly
Matter (humanity) into a more rarefied (spiritual) state by fire as
^presented metaphorically by metallurgical processes. Aspects
°f the ideological climate of opinion encouraging such an identi-
fication in the early Middle Ages are also discussed. [St. Joseph,
transformation of matter, smithing, early medieval cosmology,
Metaphors of salvation]
^ary W. Helms, Professor Emerita of the University of North
Carolina at Greensboro, USA, is a cultural anthropologist inter-
red in cosmology, cosmography, and political and ideological
^egitimation. Recent publications in early medieval cosmology
ar>d ideology include “Sacred Landscape and the Early Medieval
European Cloister” {Anthropos 2002) and “Before the Dawn”
(Anthropos 2004).
Judeo-Christian sacred lore, as in numerous
°ther religious systems, the ordered cosmos and its
features are perceived to be the products of skilled
Crafting by an artisanal deity who first constructed
the world by order and design and then created or-
ganic forms and beings and imbued them with life.1
Approaching creativity and artisanry from a more
earthly perspective, traditional ideologies, includ-
es those of Judaism and Christianity, have long
c°nsidered highly skilled human craftsmen to be
imbued with uncanny, supernatural talents that, in
turn, associate them with the original causal powers
and creator-deities of the cosmos (Helms 1993).
This essay discusses Joseph, the earthly father of
Jesus, as one representative of these extraordinary
human artisans. Today Joseph is typically portrayed
as a humble, domestically-oriented woodworker
with an in-home workshop (Albright and Mann
1971: 172). In earlier Christianity, however, Joseph
could be described more broadly as a professional
woodwright, builder, stonemason, or blacksmith.
I am especially interested in his identification as a
smith in early medieval Western Europe (approxi-
mately the fourth through the eleventh centuries).
During this time Joseph, as a member of the Holy
Family, is a very marginal figure in formal Christian
theology but, as a smith, he seemingly should stand
in company with other metalworkers of lore and
legend such as Hephaistos, Tubal-Cain, Wayland,
and Volundr, among others, all of whom represent
the most mysterious and sacrosanct category of
supematurally endowed skilled crafting known to
traditional societies. This essay examines the role
and character of Joseph in the contexts of tradi-
tional skilled crafting in general and smithing in
particular and considers how identification of him
as a smith can be understood within the ideological
milieu characteristic of Western European Chris-
tianity during the early Middle Ages.
1 Genesis 1, 2; Niditch (1985); von Rad (1965).
452
Mary W. Helms
Skilled Artisanry and the Gods
I concur with Edmund Leach that sacred lore is
mythic in content and that its personages and events
do not record actual “history” per se but stand as
metaphors, allegories, and symbols encoding more
hidden ideological messages. An individual figure,
like Joseph, is a dramatic character whose signif-
icance lies in his structural position or the quali-
tative value he signifies within the whole (Leach
and Aycock 1983: 2f., 8, 10, 107). From this per-
spective, one of Joseph’s most salient features is the
simple fact that he is most typically presented not
as a peasant, or landowner, or merchant, or water
carrier, etc., but as a professional craftsman, pre-
sumably signifying that the role and qualities asso-
ciated with skilled crafting are fundamental to his
ideological (mythic) significance and typological
identity. This form of occupation, in combination
with his further identification as husband of Mary
and earthly social father and guardian of the youth-
ful Jesus, clearly presents, on a very basic level of
understanding, a structural parallel of Joseph with
God, also a creator-craftsman and the divine father
of Jesus. Yet Joseph’s identification as an artisan
may also imply much more.
Cross-cultural study (Helms 1993) has shown
that, in nonindustrial societies past and present,
professional artisanry is not merely a secular occu-
pation but a value-laden activity that exceeds or-
dinary functionality because it is imbued with ide-
ological significance and moral qualities that be-
speak connections with the supernatural. Through
their skillful activities artisans are both earthly cor-
relates of creative divinities and vital intermedi-
aries linking earthly society with the wider spiritual
world. The heart of the matter is the widespread be-
lief that skilled craftsmen are privy to the awesome
secrets and mysteries (magic) of how base matter
can be changed to form new and finer things. It is
this knowledge and ability derived from supernatu-
ral sources that connects skilled craftsmen and their
products with the omniscient cosmogonal creativ-
ity responsible for primordial origins and relates
the ethereal, supematurally informed “outside,” or
spiritual world, or condition of being with a more
immediate, “earthly,” or mortally human world, or
condition of being. Not surprisingly, the skilled ar-
tisans who command such esoteric insights and tal-
ents and maintain such cosmological connections
are themselves virtually always deemed to be dif-
ferent from ordinary persons and accorded distinc-
tive social positions, sometimes negative, as dan-
gerous and marginal outsiders, sometimes positive,
as esteemed men of wisdom and exceptional ability.
These general points are well illustrated in the
familiar mythologies of the ancient Near East and
Mediterranean and in early Christianity and a few
points may be noted as brief (and incomplete) ex-
amples. In the Hebrew Bible, divine creation, as-
sisted by Wisdom (Proverbs 8.1, 22-31), is ex-
pressed in the phraseology of crafting using analo-
gies with ceramics, sculpting, weaving, metallurgy,
architecture, and building to describe and praise
God’s handiwork. Thus the skies are spread out
“hard as a molten mirror” (Job 37.14-18), the ce-
lestial vault is structured with set beams and has
doors and windows, the earth has foundations, mea-
surements, and a cornerstone (Job 38.4-6; Psalm
104.3), and humanity is formed from clay or moist-
ened dust or intricately woven like a fabric.2 Yah-
weh also imbues human artisans with the skills nec-
essary for further constructions. In Exodus 31.3-6
he explains to Moses his selection of Bezalel (and
also Oholiab) as builder and furnisher of the taber-
nacle: “I have filled him with divine spirit, with
ability, intelligence, and knowledge in every kind
of craft, to devise artistic designs, to work in gold,
silver, and bronze, in cutting stones for settings, and
in carving wood, in every kind of craft ... I have
given skill to all the skillful, so that they may make
all that I have commanded you ...” 3
In the Hellenistic world, Plato advanced the idea
of a creator god-cum-craftsman by his argument (in
the Timaeus) that the great harmony and unity of
the cosmos was evidence that such work had been
planned before it was executed as an artisan plans
the end product of his project before he begins
it (Glacken 1967: 14, 44-46; Curtius 1953: 544-
546). In earlier Homeric epics, as well as in an-
cient Greek and also Roman society, supreme pro-
ficiency, cleverness, and cunning {metis) in human
crafting again could be considered the direct result
of inspiration from the gods, “as when a master
craftsman overlays gold on silver, and he is one
who was taught by Hephaistos and Pallas Athene
in art complete, and grace is on every work he
finishes.”4 Consequently, to the layperson the tab
ented artisan appeared to be a mysterious individual
2 Job 33.6, 10.9; Jeremiah 18.6; Psalm 139.15. - See also
Glacken (1967: 155); Keel (1978; 204f.); Jacob (1958: 131’
142, 144-146); Graves and Patai (1964: 60f.). All Biblo
references are from the New Revised Standard Version °
the New Oxford Annotated Bible (Coogan [ed.] 2001).
3 See also 2 Chronicles 2.13-14; 1 Kings 7.13-14; Siracb
38.1-8.
4 Odyssey 6.232-234 (Homer 1967: 108). See also the lHad
15.410-412 (Homer 1951: 321); Solon, quoted in Geoghe'
gan (1945: 23).
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
453
possessed of an uncanny control over materials of
nature (Bultmann 1956: 104, 121).5
Both Hebrew and Hellenistic (Platonic) con-
cepts of the world as harmonious cosmos indica-
tive of a creative artisanal god are combined in the
early Christian and medieval topos of the Deus ar-
ttfex, fabricator of infinite skill and wisdom aided,
according to some church fathers and apologists,
by Christ as wisdom-like demiurge. Indeed, early
medieval Christianity in general became preoccu-
pied with the nature of original creation and the
Edenic paradise, with the relationship of created
things to the creator god and to each other, and
with the means by which the original lost paradise
could be regained.6 Fathers of the Church also re-
garded human artisanal knowledge as a form of
wisdom and felt that, at times, the skilled craftsman
Was invested with such insights by God himself.7
Various forms of crafting, including woodworking
and metallurgy, were among the diverse activities
^commended by monastic founders to enrich the
spiritual lives of monks (White 1978: 320, 323;
Geoghegan 1945: 177, 178). Indeed, monasteries
°verall became “workshops” literally and figura-
tively. Benedict of Nursia, in chapter 4 of his fa-
mous “Rule,” explicitly compares the cloister to an
artisan’s workplace since the entire monastic life
Was a spiritual and psychological creative process
(Verdon 1984: 2; Kardong 1996; 80f„ 195).8 To be
sure, Thomas Aquinas (among others) cautioned
that human creativity is of a far lower order than
God’ s since humans can only employ already ex-
isting materials, such as iron, or wood, or stone,
While God was the original creator of everything
(Glacken 1967; 274f.). Nonetheless, the mysteri-
es expertise commanded by the skilled human ar-
tificer as master of the workshop evidenced a se-
quence from God’s understanding to human intel-
lect to expression in the arts and crafts; a union
°f the spiritual and the material in which God’s
Creative intentions were expressed not just in holy
^ords but also in more plastic media, continuing
5 See also Geoghegan (1945: 26, 14f„ 80); Burford (1972:
15, 25, 27); Detienne and Vemant (1978:11, 235f.,
307 f.).
6 Curtius (1953: 544); Blunt (1938-39: 53f.); Leclercq (1984:
68-71); Danielou (1973: 180, 346-350); Dillon (1996:
366-374); Grant (1986:158-160, 163, 165); Watson
(1989: Ixviii); Glacken (1967: 168, 172); Kelly (1978: 83-
7 87); Taylor (1961: 13, 14); von Rad (1965: 338f.).
Geoghegan (1945: 148). St. Augustine, for example, argued
that human arts and skills were a product not of innate hu-
ntan worth but of the creator God’s greatness and goodness
(Glacken 1967: 196).
See also Geoghegan (1945; 218f.); Horn and Born (1979);
Theophilus (1979).
Anthropos 101.2006
divine creation through human artistry that itself
often evoked, in the untutored onlooker, a sense of
the unexpected, the novel, the uncanny, the supra-
natural.9
Joseph the Obscure
At first consideration, extended discussion of
Joseph’s identity as a skilled craftsman during
Christianity’s first millennium does not appear
promising. Early Christian sacred lore concern-
ing Joseph is meagre. Only a few references oc-
cur in the canonical gospels, although more elab-
orated - though still limited - folkloric depictions
of Joseph’s life appear in six apocryphal sources
(especially the so-called Birth and Infancy Gospels)
dating from about the second to the sixth and sev-
enth centuries, some of which were well-known in
popular culture (Elliott 1993; Deasy 1937:4-15).
Yet Joseph was largely neglected by the Western
church itself. Official church documents relating to
him are few, there was no public devotion to him,
images were rare, no churches are known to have
been dedicated to him before the 12th century, no
relics were collected, and White (1978: 184) notes
that, until the very late Middle Ages, “Joseph” was
rarely used as a baptismal name in the West (Filas
1962:24-35, 167, 285, 344; Lienhard 1999). To
be sure, Church fathers recognized Joseph’s social
roles as spouse of Mary and legitimating earthly
father of Jesus and lauded his character as a “just”
(virtuous) man who was a faithful guardian and
provider for his family.10 * * Yet there was little rig-
orous theological development of his nature by the
early church.
This formal theological neglect would seem to
be significant, however, in that it may have opened
the way for invention and flexibility in what-
ever general interpretations and typologies might
be accorded Joseph by laypersons, local clergy,
and those in holy orders. For example, he began
to receive positive attention in the early medieval
monastic world and from certain church fathers
as a participant (with Mary and Jesus) in the
Christian work of salvation (Filas 1962: 488-491;
Hale 1996: 103 f.), a role expressed allegorically by
(among other themes; Filas 1962: 490) his occupa-
tion, as we shall shortly see. Alternatively, although
9 Glacken (1967: 297f.); Kris and Kurz (1979:53); Verdon
(1984: 1); Leclercq (1984: 70f.).
10 Filas (1962: 106-109, 114f„ 163, 201); Lienhard (1999);
Meier (1991: 216f„ 238); Hanson and Oakman (1998: 54-
57).
454
Mary W. Helms
the attitude of lay society toward Joseph in the
early Middle Ages seems to be unknown, judging
from later medieval materials Joseph, at least as
a member of the Holy Family, remained inciden-
tal relative to the far greater interest in Jesus and
Mary (Deasy 1937: 25). In this context it is note-
worthy that, when Joseph appears in nativity plays
and miracle plays of approximately the 12th-16th
centuries, he is depicted either as socially marginal
because of his Jewish identity or as representative
of ordinary man, that is, a thoroughly human or
“natural” and, therefore, somewhat ridiculous and
definitely fallible human full of imperfections as
indicated by his frequent representation as a coarse,
comic fellow, often very old and fatigued, even se-
nile (but married to a young woman and, therefore,
also the cuckolded husband).11
It was also common in late medieval art and
commentaries to identify Joseph with the theme
of spiritual transformation from the Judaic Old
Covenant (Synagoga) to the Christian New Cov-
enant (Ecclesia) by casting him allegorically as rep-
resentative of the Old Testament and Old Law (“the
last and greatest of the patriarchs”; Hahn 1984:
520).12 In comparable fashion, he could be depicted
in art as carrying a candle, symbolic of earthly and
finite things destined to be outshone by the divine
light of Christ (Schiller 1971:73, 78f.). In short,
in later medieval pageantry and art Joseph appears
typologically as physically and behaviorally vul-
nerable Everyman and as belonging primarily to the
non-Christian (or pre-Christian) and earthly or ma-
terial world rather than to Christian mysteries of the
purified and spiritual realm. These later medieval
themes will also be helpful in probing the possible
symbolic or thematic relevance of his occupation in
the earlier Middle Ages.
Joseph’s Occupation: tekton and faber
In folkloric apocrypha, Joseph appears as a local
woodworker who constructs plows and yokes, fur-
niture, and domestic utensils or as a house builder
who crafts roof beams, door frames, window lat-
11 Mellinkoff (1993: 267f„ n. 148); Sheingom (1996:86);
Deasy (1937); Leach and Aycock (1983; 51 f.); Filas (1962:
65 f., 522-524). In nativity scenes of later medieval art
Joseph is often portrayed as marginal to the event or as a
very small, meaning ugly and ignoble, figure (Mellinkoff
1993:80-82, 143f., 222-227; Wilson 2001:35; Schiller
1971: 72f.).
12 See also Chorpenning (1999: 63-67); Gasnier (2000: 12-
15); Mellinkoff (1993: 48f„ 74f„ 79f.).
tices, locks, and bolts.13 In the canonical gospels,
Joseph’s occupation is identified in two scripture
verses. It is implied in Mark 6.3, where people in
the synagogue at Nazareth, hearing Jesus preach,
ask each other (in modern English translation) “is
not this the carpenter, the son of Mary ...”, Jesus
the carpenter by implication presumably following
his father’s trade. In Matthew, written later than
Mark and clearly derivative therefrom,14 the same
incident is recorded in chapter 13.55 with a slight
variation that explicitly states Joseph’s occupation:
“is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother
called Mary?”
The critical point for this essay lies in the word
used for Joseph’s occupation in these two verses. In
the variants of common Greek in which the gospels
were originally written the term is tekton. Tekton is
an ambiguous word in that it basically refers to skill
in working with hard materials - wood, stone, horn,
ivory, metal (but not, for example, wax or clay),
the precise meaning being determined by context
(Nineham 1963; 165). In general usage, however,
tekton is understood to refer primarily to an arti-
san “who works with wood, a carpenter” (Mounce
1993: 446). Likewise, the meaning attributed to tek-
ton in early gospel references in Greek, Syrian,
Coptic, Armenian, as well as that understood by
many Greek fathers, leans toward wood as the type
of hard material involved.15 Some definitions em-
phasize construction and building (Morris 1992: 3;
Danker 2000: 995) while still others simply note
that the term has “a wide range of meanings from &
shipbuilder to a sculptor, but it generally indicates
a craftsman of considerable skill” (Albright and
Mann 1971: 172f., nn. 55-56; Furfey 1955: 205).
Considered in light of these definitions and us-
ages, Joseph appears as a skilled and thus highly
knowledgeable craftsman who works with hard ma-
terials, perhaps especially wood. In addition, as
tekton Joseph would also allegorically represent,
in Christian cosmology and theology, the primor-
dial building (construction) of the designed and
ordered universe by a creator-craftsman also pef'
ceived as a master builder, even an architect.16 We
may presume to advance such exalted ideological
13 Filas (1962: 57f„ 63f.); Hock (1995:49, 55, 129, 131). A
possible alternative identification of woodworking as wood
sculpting or carving does not appear in materials related to
Joseph as far as I am aware.
14 Mark was written about A.D. 66-70, Matthew some time
between A.D. 75-90.
15 Furfey (1955:204-208, 214f.); Meier (1991:281); Batey
(1984: 249, 257, n. 2).
16 The English word “architect” derives from the Greek or0'11
and tekton, meaning master builder, chief artificer.
Anthropos 1O1.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
455
and symbolic significance for Joseph’s craft (above
and beyond simple wage-earning work) since it
was firmly believed by early church fathers well
into the Middle Ages that every gospel word was
true (the Bible being divinely inspired), had pre-
cise intent, and was filled with significant spiritual
and/or allegorical meaning that went beyond the
literal, indeed was sometimes hidden and not im-
mediately perceptible to most people.17 We may
assume, therefore, that the gospel description of
Joseph’s occupation as a skilled craftsman in hard
materials was understood by Christian ecclesiastics
and scholars to be not just a literal fact but also, and
more importantly, metaphorically and theologically
meaningful.
Such, indeed, was the case. Certain church fa-
thers and medieval (and later) ecclesiastical writ-
ers, influenced especially by Ambrose, understood
that Joseph’s artisanal identity expressed a unique
relationship between him and the creator God, al-
lowing Joseph to take the place of God on earth
typologically in this respect. As Ambrose put it (ap-
preciating the power and enticement of allegory),
even “if the human is not comparable to the divine,
the symbol is nonetheless perfect” (quoted in Hahn
1984: 522,517).
Thinking of the qualities usually ascribed to
skilled artisans in general, several additional im-
plications of Joseph’s typological identity may also
ke suggested. On a more exalted note, as a god-
related craftsman, Joseph presumably could hold
Potential for extraordinary creational potencies of
his own. As we shall see, this potential may espe-
cially inform his alternate identity as a smith. On a
flJore mundane level, in his apocryphal role as local
Craftsman and head of a household, Joseph again
aPpears as Everyman, for “in the early Middle Ages
every countryman was perforce an artisan who had
to make with his own hands all household objects
from his home and clothing down to his pots and
Pans and agricultural implements” (Duby 1968:
J53; Le Goff 1988a: 207). Such earthly materialism
18 not only appropriate for a woodworker but also
^fil be directly applicable to Joseph as a smith.
Joseph’s artisanal significance gained a differ-
eni coloration when, in late Antiquity, the Greek
§°spels were translated into vernacular Latin, the
anguage of the canonical works in the early Mid-
Ages (Berger 1893; Long 2001: 2f.). In Latin
Jblical texts, the Greek word tekton used to de-
8cribe Joseph’s occupation is replaced by the Latin
term, faber. Mark 6.3 thus reads, in part, “nonne
17 Smalley (1964:1, 8-10); Kelly (1978:61f.); Simonetti
0994: 35, 42, 78, 89).
4nth
iste est faber filius Mariae ...” and Matthew 13.55
reads, in part, “nonne hie est fabri filius ...” (Bi-
blia sacra). Faber, like tekton, basically means one
who, with skill and ingenuity, works in hard mate-
rials. Thus (again like tekton) faber can designate,
rather ambiguously, a worker in stone (a mason), or
wood, or metal (ores being initially stone-like). In
order to clarify meaning, qualifying adjectives are
sometimes used in general texts; for example, faber
tignarius, a worker in wood, especially a builder;
faber ferrarius, a worker in iron, a blacksmith.18
Often, however, the adjectives are omitted, leaving
the context to define the meaning. Sometimes faber
has simply been understood generally as an artisan
who creates or fabricates objects, as in Deus fa-
ber}9 Not infrequently, however, in ecclesiastical
contexts as well as in general medieval use (and
also modern scholarship), faber in marked con-
trast with tekton,20 becomes equated with one who
works in metal, that is (in English) a smith.21 *
There are important points of contrast be-
tween woodworking and smithing as creational
metaphors. Simply stated, woodworking presents
creativity either as an emergence and defining of
shape and form from formless material, as in wood
sculpting or, in the context applicable to Joseph’s
occupation, as a form of construction, as arranging
individual constituent pieces into an orderly pat-
tern so as to form a new entity. Smithing, however,
presents creativity as a transformation of material
from one state of being (ore, stone) to another state
of being (liquid metal). This change is affected by
means of fire and also involves removal of impu-
18 Meiggs (1982:360); Packer (1969:42); Simpson (1968:
237).
19 Curtins (1953: 544-546); see also Chorpenning (1999: 73);
Forbes (1964: 68); Eliade (1962: 101).
20 In addition to Latin translations, in the 4th century the Greek
gospels were translated by the missionary Bishop Ulfila
(Wulfilas) into vernacular Gothic (an early form of Low
German) for Visigothic peoples in Romania. In this transla-
tion, preserved in the early sixth century Italian Ostrogothic
text known as the “Codex Argenteus,” tekton is translated
as timrya or timrja; in modern German, Zimmermann, also
with the meaning of Bauleute, that is to say, woodworker
or builder (Heather and Matthews 1991; Friedrichsen 1926;
Streitberg 1960: 188, 140; Thompson 1966). Other medieval
Germanic gospels also tend to favor woodworking or build-
ing as Joseph’s occupation or identify him as Werkmeister,
master worker, master builder, or overseer (e.g., Tatianus
1966; 102, 491).
21 For example, Duby (1968:20); “the faber, the specialized
iron worker, the blacksmith,” regarding Carolingian country
life; Aelfric (1968), concerning the gloss on page 632, line
208, “smythe: Fabro”; see also Filas (1962: 58); Forbes
(1956:60); Robins (1953:84); Foster (1987 [1926]: 441),
entry under “smyth.”
'ropos 101.2006
456
Mary W. Helms
rities. Transformation by fire was a powerful so-
teriological metaphor for early Christianity apro-
pos to the purification of physical being and the
spiritual salvation of the soul (e.g., Eco 2004: 102,
103). Associating Joseph with smithing, therefore,
also means associating him with the theme of salva-
tional transformation and with transforming by fire
(see also note 24).
Perhaps the most influential patristic commen-
tary on Joseph’s occupation in the early Middle
Ages was written in the fourth century by Ambrose.
As was noted above, and as Cynthia Hahn discusses
at length (1984), Ambrose relates Joseph the ar-
tisan to God, the artisanal Creator of all things.
More specifically, he describes the creating Father
of Christ (God) as working both like a woodcutter
and tree trimmer and by fire and spirit to fashion
humankind for various uses and to soften and re-
move spiritual impurities of the soul (see full trans-
lation in Hahn 1984: 517). Hahn notes that not only
Ambrose’s typological comparison of earthly and
heavenly artisanry (Joseph and God) but also his
casting of such in the context of the salvation of
the soul recurred frequently in early medieval pa-
tristic commentary and in the “Glossa ordinaria,” 22
especially as exegetical commentary on Matthew
13.55, the verse identifying Joseph’s occupation
(Hahn 1984: 517 and 1986: 58f.; see discussion be-
low). Hahn also discusses an implied association
of Joseph with fire in the 15th-century art (the
Mérode Triptych) and in a liturgical office from
13th-century Liège. She then succinctly states that
“Joseph’s association with fire ultimately comes
from the Gospel phrase, fabri filius, son of an ar-
tisan, commonly a carpenter or an iron-worker,”
adding that, in Ambrose’s commentary, the artisan
who softens souls with fire refers to a smith (Hahn
1986; 60; emphasis in original).
The identification of Joseph as a worker in iron,
a blacksmith, to which Hahn refers was implied
and occasionally explicitly stated in several early
medieval contexts and it is to these materials, and
to Joseph’s general character if he is regarded as
a smith, that we now turn, following Hahn’s lead
and encouraged also by the general comment by
Le Goff that “the early middle ages tended to see
[Joseph] as a ... blacksmith” (1988a; 207).
22 A 12th-century compilation of exegetical interlinear and
marginal glosses on words and verses of Jerome’s Latin
(Vulgate) Bible that became the standard medieval Bible
gloss throughout Latin Christendom (Smalley 1964: 56, 60-
65).
Textual Evidence for Joseph as Smith
Evidence that Joseph was to at least some extent
understood to be a smith in early medieval Europe
appears briefly and rather in passing in at least three
sets of texts: exegetical commentary (in Latin) by
ecclesiastical writers based on, or obviously related
to, Matthew 13.55 (occasionally Mark 6.3); explicit
identification of Joseph as smith by two famous
Spanish bishops, Leander of Seville and his brother,
Isidore; various Anglo-Saxon texts from England,
including the famous Lindisfame Gospels.
The Church fathers whose exegetical commen-
taries are of interest include (though perhaps are
not limited to) Hilary of Poitiers (4th century,
d. ca. 367), Ambrose (4th century, d. 397), Peter
Chrysologus (5th century, d. 454), and Bede (7th-
8th centuries, d. 735). We may begin by referring
again to Ambrose, whose discourse on Matthew
13.55 (in his “Commentary on Luke”) includes
metaphors (noted above) by which the Father of
Christ “works by the fire” and “softens the rigid-
ity of souls in the fire of the spirit, and fash-
ion[s] humankind” for various uses (Migne 1844-
64: PL 15, sec. 1313.2, col. 15 89).23 As Hahn indi-
cates, such metaphors clearly employ the language
of smithing and implicate Joseph in that same oc-
cupation (1986: 58).24 * *
In his gospel exegesis, Ambrose made consid-
erable use of the “Commentary on Matthew” writ-
ten by Hilary of Poitiers a generation earlier (Wat-
son 1989: ix). In this work, Hilary says that Jesus
was the son of an artisan who conquers iron with
fire (ferrum igne vincentis), melts away {decoquen-
tis; as in melting away metals) all worldly (sin-
ful) ways, and forms the mass (massam; a lump
of something, especially of metal) into things use-
ful for humans (Migne 1844-64: PL 9, chap. 14.2
23 PL refers to volumes of the Latin series of the Patrologiae
cursus completus (Migne [ed.], 1844-1864). Since Migne s
compilation is readily available and relevant passages in full
context can be fairly lengthy, full Latin texts for the patristic
sources noted in this essay are not reproduced here.
24 Ambrose’s imagery of softening rigid souls and fashion-
ing humans for different functions brings to mind commen-
tary by Theophilus of Antioch, a second-century bishop oi
Jewish-Christian background, who, in a treatise (“Ad Auto-
lycum”), explains the significance of the fall and of death
with a metallurgical analogy within a salvational context-
“Again, just as when some vessel has been fashioned anu
has some fault, it is resmelted or refashioned so that it be-
comes new and perfect, so it happens to man through death
[when he is shattered so that in resurrection he may become
morally sound]” (Rogers 2000:47; Theophilus of Antioch
1970: 69).
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
457
col. 996-997).25 Approximately a century later,
Peter Chrysologus brings smith-related metaphors
to his own exegesis of Matthew 13.55 by saying,
in part, that Christ was the son of the artisan who
fashioned the world not with a hammer but with
precepts and who forged (or fabricated) the mass of
the world not with charcoal but with will (qui mas-
sam saeculi auctoritate, non carbone conflavit).26
Three hundred years later, Bede, under the head-
ing “nonne hie est filius Joseph”, discusses God
ns creator artisan and fire as manifestation of
saving grace and extends a clearly smith-related
metaphor involving precious metals to include a
reference to the Old Testament book of Malachi,
quoting 3.3: “and he will set as a refiner [con-
flans'.; sharper, melter, forger] and purifier of silver
and will cleanse the sons of Levi, and refine them
like gold and like silver” (Migne 1844-64: PL 92,
col. 375). As with the previous authors, the fact that
such exegesis, though brief, is introduced by refer-
ence to the text of Matthew 13.55 strongly implies
that the commentary carries general relevance for
Joseph’s occupation, too.
Prior to Bede, two very famous sixth-seventh-
eentury bishops of Seville, Leander (d. 599/600)
and his younger brother, Isidore (d. 636), straight-
forwardly state that Joseph was thought to be a
snfith. Furthermore, they say this in guidelines writ-
ten for use by cenobitic monks and nuns, clearly
!ndicating, it would appear, that there was nothing
sacrilegious or scandalous about the idea. Lean-
hcr’s comment appears in his “De institutione vir-
Ihnum ...” (The training of nuns ...) in a dis-
cussion of how Joseph, as Mary’s betrothed, was
a just man but had to work for a living. There-
f°re, “it is read that he [Joseph] was a black-
smith [Certe faber ferrarius fuisse legitur]” (Lean-
er of Seville 1969; 218; Migne 1844-64: PL 72,
chap. 14; cop 887). The same point is made by Isi-
dore when he discusses the role of work in his
^tonastic rule for men: “Joseph Justus, ... faber
errarius fuit” (Migne 1844-64: PL 83, chap. 5,
c°l- 873). Leander’s and Isidore’s monastic rules
Latin definitions are from Cassell’s Latin Dictionary (Simp-
son 1968). Hilary is notable for his “allegorical ingenuity,”
a Principle which his work did much to introduce into West-
ern European thought (Watson 1989: viii). In light of his
forthright description some modem scholars readily view
him as one of several medieval writers who understood
Joseph to be a smith: “It is true that St. Hillary, St. Bede
*Le Venerable, and St. Peter Chrysologus tell us [Joseph]
Was a worker in iron” (Gasnier 2000: 29; see also editorial
comment by Migne [1844-64] in PL 9, col. 996f., note g).
hJigne (1844-64: PL 52, ser. 48, col. 334); see also discus-
ión in col. 334-335 and Neale and Littledale (1883: 295).
f-harcoal was the essential fuel for smithing.
Allthropos 101.2006
were known to Spanish monasteries (Lawrence
1989: 53 f.) and Isidore’s rule seems gradually to
have been disseminated outside of Spain, though it
was not nearly as well distributed as many of his
other works. Nonetheless, it is mentioned in ninth-
century catalogues of the monasteries of St. Riquier
and of Fulda and several passages are cited in the
mid-eighth century by Egbert, Archbishop of York,
in Northumbria (northeast England), in a work of
his own (Diaz y Diaz 1963).
It was also in Northumbria, on the small island
of Lindisfame, that Bishop Eadfrith, about A.D.
700, made a copy, in Latin, of the gospels. Sev-
eral hundred years later (about A.D. 950), a priest
named Aldred prepared an interlinear gloss of the
Lindisfame Gospels; a running translation, word
for word, in the Northumbrian dialect of Old En-
glish (Daniell 2003: 19-21, 34, 46).27 In this gloss,
the earliest surviving translation of the gospels into
any form of English, the Latin word faber (fabri) in
Matthew 13.55 is translated as a choice of two pos-
sible Old English words, smides l wyrehta, “smith
or wright” (Hardwick 1858: 113). In two other Old
English gospel versions with which the Lindisfame
gloss can be compared the relevant term is simply
smides (Hardwick 1858: iii-ix, 112).28 * *
In Old English, “smith” (like both faber and tek-
ton) could indicate a worker in metals or in wood or
the general practice of fashioning or forging (Toller
1898: 889). In relation to Latin, “smith” replaces
faber used in the general sense and faber ferrarius
when referring to ironworking in particular (Lewis
1988: 37f.). Similarly, Old English wyrhta, when
replacing faber in general, can define an artificer
or fabricator, one who works at a trade, but also
designates a woodworker when it replaces the more
specific Latin faber tignarius (or faber lignarius)
(Toller 1898: 1288f.); Lewis 2001: 985 f.).
In various other English texts, Joseph’s occu-
pation is sometimes that of smith, sometimes that
of wright. For example, he appears as a craftsman-
woodworker both in an Old English (perhaps 11th-
century) version of the ninth-century apocryphal
“Gospel of Nicodemus,” where “loseph fabri fi-
lium” is translated as “wyrhtan sunu losepes”
27 Old English or Anglo-Saxon, a Germanic language, was
spoken in most of England (it had three main dialects)
from the mid-fifth century until the twelfth, when it merged
with Norman French to become Middle English (Daniell
2003: 22).
28 Ms. no. CXL in Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and
the Hatton Ms. in the Bodleian Library. The Rushmore
Gospel, originating in Ireland around A.D. 800 and glossed
shortly after the Lindisfame Gospels, also uses “smith”
(Long 2001: 39; Hardwick 1858: 113, bottom).
458
Mary W. Helms
(Cross 1996: 3, 140, 141), and in the very popu-
lar late medieval “Mirror of the Blessed Life of
Our Lord Jesus Christ” (Hogg and Powell 1989: 81;
Ragusa and Green 1961: xxii-xxiv, 32, 64). Al-
ternatively, Joseph is a craftsman-smith in various
other late medieval nonbiblical religious or moral-
istic texts (see Lewis 1988: 38, left col., sec. b),
such as the 14th-century “Stanzaic Life of Christ”
(Foster 1987 [1926]: 191 f. [line 5688], 441) and
William Caxton’s 15th-century English version of
the “Legenda Aurea” (Caxton 1931: 69). However,
in the “South English Nativity of Mary and Christ”
(ca. A.D. 1400), the author, apparently concerned
with setting the record straight, firmly states that
Joseph “was a carpenter [sic] and no smith” (Lewis
1988: 37, sec. a). Returning to biblical works, the
earlier versions (ca. A.D. 1380-1384) of the so-
called Wyclif Bibles (the first complete translations
of the entire Bible from the Latin Vulgate into var-
ious local forms of English grammar and vocabu-
lary) use “smyth,” with “carpenter” as an alterna-
tive, for Joseph’s occupation, while the later version
(ca. 1388) uses only “carpenter.”29
Most of the Latin and Anglo-Saxon texts de-
scribed above derive from two distinctive regions
located on the western edge of continental Eu-
rope and orthodox Latin Christendom. The Lindis-
fame glossing and Bede’s commentary come from
Northumbria and various later texts are also from
England, while the monastic rules of Leander and
Isidore come from Spain and Hilary is associated
with Poitiers in extreme western Gaul, across the
Pyrenees from Spain. Both Anglo-Saxon England,
especially Northumbria, and western Gaul and
Spain were regions where early medieval ortho-
dox Catholic Christianity was heavily influenced by
other religious systems, both pagan and Christian,
creating distinctive religious environments.30 Much
of Anglo-Saxon England and especially Northum-
bria was strongly influenced by Celtic Christian-
ity introduced by Irish-trained monks, who coun-
tered strong pagan traditions by preaching in towns
and villages and establishing monasteries, includ-
29 Forshall and Madden (1850: 37, 102); see also Bosworth
(1907: 71, 191, 582); Daniell (2003: 76-85). Wyclif Bibles
were used extensively in England for 150 years until the
arrival of William Tyndale’s first printed New Testament,
translated from the Greek, in 1526 (Daniell 2003; 66, 85,
88). Tyndale translated tekton as carpenter.
30 There is also evidence of direct communication between
England (and Ireland) and Spain and the Loire region of
western Gaul in the early Middle Ages in matters scholarly
and ecclesiastical (and otherwise), though nothing that casts
further light directly on Joseph’s occupation. See Mayr-
Harting (1991: 85,198, 124); Hillgarth (1962,1984); Herren
(1980); Cunliffe (2001: 477-481).
ing that at Lindisfarne in mid-seventh century,
while in general coexisting comfortably both with
significant pre-Christian elements and with Bene-
dictine missionization. The world of Celtic Chris-
tianity, which differed from the Roman Church
on various issues of theology, liturgy, and other
points, also was largely isolated from continental
religious trends for a considerable period of time
(ca. A.D. 450-600).31 The Spain of Leander and
Isidore was in the process of officially changing
from Visigothic Arianism to Catholic Christianity
and Arianism was of deep concern to both bishops
and also to Hilary of Poitiers (Collins 2000; 53;
see below). Popular religious beliefs were also
widespread in the Peninsula. Indeed, popular and
pagan beliefs and practices were so abundant that
learned churchmen often preached in more rustic
“country” speech when addressing the populace
and even when writing for the edification of monks.
Even biblical literature was notably “soaked with
local color” (Berger 1893:7, 8). Some forms of
church organization and monastic life were also
distinctly regional and it further appears that (not
unlike Celtic Christian Britain) there was little
wider European interest in affairs in Spain at the
time such that “she seems curiously isolated from
the rest of the Church.”32 *
Although recognition of Joseph as smith con-
stitutes a rather minor piece of biblical lore, the
extent of whose distribution in medieval Western
Christendom is, so far as I am aware, unknown, it is
at the very least noteworthy that these two regions
where that identification is clearly found are also
characterized by distinctive ideological regionalism
and especially by mixed religious traditions that
very likely supported a considerable range of ide-
ological precepts and strongly colored the overall
intellectual climate within which Joseph’s identi-
fication was expressed. Let me be clear. I am not
suggesting here that Celtic Christianity or Arianism
per se occasioned Joseph’s identification as smith
(but see further discussion below); rather it is the
fact of religious diversity and admixture that is im-
portant, for beliefs held by orthodox Latin Cathohc
Christians, other variants of Christianity, and pagan
traditions all came to be thoroughly intertwined
in early medieval Western Europe in general (s££
31 Herren and Brown (2002); Dunleavy (1960: 17-25, 95, 110
n. 1); Godfrey (1962). - The Celtic Church proper tea
biblical texts in Latin and, though there are glosses of №
New Testament in Old Irish from the second half of
eighth century, I have not been able to consult them- $ee
Berger (1893: chap. 3); Richter (1988: 12, 69).
32 Hillgarth (1962; 169, 170; 1980; 1984:2f„ 6); Collin5
(2000); Diaz (2001).
101.2006
Anthropos
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
459
below). As a result, considered more broadly, it
appears likely that Joseph’s identity as smith can
be reasonably understood as generally reflecting or
responding to diverse Christian orientations com-
bined with long-standing and persisting non-Chris-
tian beliefs concerning the qualities associated with
craftsmen who practiced metallurgical skills.
The Qualities of Smiths
Joseph’s identity as a smith places him in the il-
lustrious company of fabled smiths of the ancient
Near East, Mediterranean, and northern Europe as
Well as numerous others of Asia and Africa, all
of whom exhibit exceptional suprahuman qualities
and abilities. Since, to the best of my knowledge,
there are no further details from the early Middle
Ages specifically regarding Joseph as smith, further
assessment of associated ideological and cosmo-
logical qualities that may have accompanied that
identity must be inferred from a review of how Old
World metalworkers, especially blacksmiths, were
Usually perceived and by considering the roles and
qualities accorded practicing smiths in early me-
dieval Europe.
Traditional smiths throughout Europe, Africa,
and Asia were long recognized as masters of an
extremely esoteric and supematurally potent craft
by which they completed the creative work of the
§ods. In practice, their perceived supernatural abil-
ities, which could include powers of healing and
divination, often positioned smiths as close seconds
to shamans or as shaman-like themselves.33 The
utost salient feature of this extraordinary identifi-
cution is recognition of both smith and shaman as
Wasters of Fire, where fire or (magical) heat is con-
sidered a primary agent either of original creation
0r of the transformation or perfecting of things. It
ls a short step to further associate smiths philo-
sophically with life and life-giving principles and
to regard the smithy as a sacred space where gener-
ahve processes are evidenced.34 More specifically,
Sruiths were viewed as collaborators who acceler-
ated and perfected nature’s production of ores and
Minerals. Ores were long and widely regarded not
as inanimate material but as organic entities imbued
^Uh life that slowly grew naturally in the earth. The
smith’s furnace became the womb in which ores
c°uipleted their gestation and the production of
33 Forbes (1964:69, 73, 80); Eliade (1962:81, 87-96, 99,
106; 1964: 470-474); Edsman (1949; 98); Childs and Kil-
Fck (1993: 325); Robins (1953).
4 Eliade (1962:19, 21, 79-86, 107); Forbes (1964: 75f.);
Robins (1953: 26).
Wthropos 101.2006
metals under the care of the smith was interpreted
as akin to giving them birth.35 Since the esoteric
and generally secret knowledge that allowed the
smith to assist nature by transforming stone with
the power of fire was thought to be derived from
and to involve the supernatural, the actual processes
of smithing were typically accompanied by rituals
and protective charms and the smith himself could
maintain a state of ritual purity while the work pe-
riod was in effect.36
Given the ideological potency of the operation
and for practical reasons, too, smelting furnaces
were often set up in unsettled territories close to
mines or to forests where charcoal could be made.
Similarly, forges were often located on the edges
of communities where the searing heat and sparks,
smoke and steam, and pounding noise of the “mag-
ical” work were less disturbing to the general popu-
lace.37 The nature of the work, its marginal location
in uncultivated wilderness or on the edge of settled
villages, and its ritualistic ties to the supernatural
meant that smiths themselves virtually always and
everywhere were perceived as ambiguous or lim-
inal figures standing betwixt and between cosmo-
logical realms, linking humanity with the gods (or
with the powers of the wilderness) and employing
an almost god-like (or demonic) capacity to control
and transform matter. Their extraordinary qualities
and status are evidenced (in part) by their frequent
portrayal in lore and legend as stigmatized in some
manner, either behaviorally (e.g., as antisocial men
or men without typical families) or physically (e.g.,
as dwarfs or as lamed or otherwise crippled).38
Many of these general features were charac-
teristic of European smiths during the early Mid-
dle Ages, where they served at all levels of so-
ciety.39 Aristocratic courts and manors employed
blacksmiths in the production of a wide range of
agricultural items and military wares,40 including
35 McNutt (1990: 255); Childs and Killick (1993: 326, 328);
Forbes (1964: 76); Eliade (1962: 8, 42, 46f., 57, 79).
36 Forbes (1964: 71 f.); Eliade (1962: 54-61); Childs and Kil-
lick (1993: 327 f.).
37 Forbes (1964: 69); Childs and Killick (1993: 325, 327);
Treister (1996: 79).
38 Forbes (1964: 52f„ 69, 72); Eliade (1962:89-91; Morris
(1992: 87 f.).
39 For a general overview of medieval metallurgy and met-
alworking see Nef (1987); Walbank (1987); Singer etal.
(1956); Addison (1908); Forbes (1956); Verhulst (2002).
40 Ironworking was basic to weaponry requiring good cutting
edges and in the production of armour. See the vivid descrip-
tion, by a ninth-century monk of St. Gall, of the fearful psy-
chological impact of just the appearance of the iron wield-
ing army of Charlemagne and of the glittering, metal-clad
king himself outside the walls of Pavia in 773 (Addison
1908: 124; White 1962: 40).
460
Mary W. Helms
the all-important iron-headed axe, an absolutely
essential tool (and qualitatively powerful symbol)
for transforming the medieval landscape for human
use, and, by the late ninth and early tenth centuries,
the equally important shoeing of oxen and horses.41
Ecclesiastical life needed metal smiths to embellish
church interiors and provide liturgical vessels and
implements of precious metals and to manufacture
wrought iron grills and, especially, iron and bronze
bells believed to be imbued with the power to dispel
evil.42
Monasteries included workshops and forges for
smiths as part of their general communal organi-
zation or utilized the services of smiths in nearby
villages.43 Some monks, even great abbots, also
worked at smithing themselves.44 A few ecclesi-
astical smiths were even canonized. Most notable
here is St. Eloi (Lo, Eligius), seventh-century mas-
ter metalworker, bishop, and founder of monaster-
ies, who became a famous figure in medieval lore
for his extraordinary powers and resurrectional mir-
acles. Variations on St. Eloi legends involve Jesus
and St. Peter as well a various smiths as Masters
of Fire in transformation-by-fire tales involving the
“resurrection” of human beings, who are success-
fully changed from old age to youth by the fire of
the forge when Jesus or St. Peter do the forging but
suffer far less desirable fates when smiths attempt
to emulate.45
Ordinary villagers relied on small, portable
smithies for simple, everyday objects and the
open-walled and roofed forge in a nearby wood-
land could serve as an informal social center, too
(Robins 1953:83, 85; Nef 1987:703). Smithies
were also frequently located at crossroads for the
convenience of travelers requiring that horse be
shod (Farmer 1992: 206). Since the crossroads was
itself a supernaturally charged site, the smith may
well have been implicated in the complex symbol-
ism and periodic folk rituals identifying that lo-
cale as a cosmologically critical omphalic meeting
41 Verhulst (2002:77-79); Robins (1953:80, 84f.); White
(1978; 77, 110, 140f.); Thomson (1956: 390).
42 Addison (1908:116, 145); Forbes (1956:64); Theophilus
(1961: xxxviii, 155); 1979: 79f.; White (1978: chap. 6).
43 Horn and Bom (1979: 190-198); Robins (1953:81); Ver-
hulst (2002: 72, lit).
44 E.g., Dunleavy (1960: 26, 61); Sarton (1947: 663); Addison
(1908: 16-20).
45 Farmer (1992: 156-167); Addison (1908:57-62); Robins
(1953:71-73, 113); Edsman (1949:115-118). See also
St. Dunstan, tenth-century Benedictine monk and abbot and
Archbishop of Canterbury, who allegedly defeated the devil
with a pair of red hot tongs when tempted by the demon
in his forge (Farmer 1992: 138f.); Addison (1908: 110f.);
Robins (1953: 66-71).
point were strangers met, cosmological realms in-
tersected, and the wider supernatural world (includ-
ing the dead) encouraged the local and the living.46 * *
Indeed, it can be argued that the very presence of
the extraordinary smith and the smithy (itself a hi-
erophanic place of fiery transformation) helped de-
fine the crossroads as a cosmologically significant
location (Eliade 1959: 21 f., 63; Brown 1947:34).
Smiths who worked as smelters in forests and
woodlands had the added quality of association
with a cosmographical setting that was defined
ambiguously as both ecologically beneficial and a
frightening, qualitatively wild and spiritually unre-
deemed haunt of demons and temptations; a wilder-
ness inhabited by equally anomalous solitary and
socially marginalized persons, including charcoal
burners, hermits, outlaws, and hunters, as well as
smiths (Le Goff 1988b: 47-59).
Reflecting the mysterious nature of his fiery
craft, the qualitatively charged setting where he
worked, and the magical spells that assisted him
at his labor (Eamon 1983: 173), the early me-
dieval blacksmith himself has been described as
“an extraordinary figure, almost a sorcerer” (Le
Goff 1988a: 206); a highly skilled craftsman who
was “a sacred being” (206) and who, especially as
Master of Fire, had not yet lost the traces of ex-
ceptional socioreligious status that gave him com-
mon ground with mystics, magicians, and shamans
(Forbes 1964; 72,97; Eliade 1962; 106f.). He could
be a feared figure, identified with the devil (also as-
sociated with mastery of fire; Eliade 1962: 105 f-)-
Alternatively, he could be positively valued as a
personage whose work reflected the salvational
process of purification that transformation by fire
could achieve (Edsman 1949).
Purification by fire carried potent symbolism. In
Christian hagiographies and martyrologies the pu-
rification of living stone in the furnace by fire was
symbolically compared with human salvation by
fiery martyrdom (as in early Christianity), when the
physical body died and was dissolved and then re-
newed and transformed to purified celestial glory.
46 Churches dedicated to St. Giles, a patron of cripples and
beggars and also of blacksmiths, also often stood at such
road junctions. Giles, an immensely popular medieval saint,
was originally a seventh-century hermit living in Provence
who (according to his hagiography; see Farmer 1992: 205 f)
once healed a crippled man with his cloak and was himself
accidentally crippled by an arrow shot by the king while
hunting deer. Giles’ injury is interesting since, in lore and
legend, smiths not infrequently are portrayed as being lad16
or crippled in some fashion (for example, Hephaistos, B'
marinen).
47 Edsman (1949: 96-98, 166-171): see also Eco (2004: 102-
103); St. Eloi legends above, and note 24.
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
461
It should also be remembered that, in the early
Middle Ages, advanced technological processes in
general were accorded exceptional spiritual value.
They were regarded as part of the pursuit of the
mystical restoration of humanity with Christ and
evidence of the divine likeness of humankind as,
with mysteries of craft and acknowledging the
close relationship between craft and spirituality,
earthly artisans imitated and extended the works
of nature, giving shape and form to otherwise base
matter.48
Joseph as Smith
Opinions about the qualities represented by Joseph
as smith in the early Middle Ages very likely would
have varied according to social class and profes-
sion. As we have seen, Christian patristic writers
appreciated both the soteriological theme of purifi-
cation and transformation by fire, for which the
creative smith’s work became a ready metaphor,
and the parallel between Joseph the skilled crafts-
man and God the cosmic artisan. Judging from
Leander’s and Isidore’s comments, monks and nuns
Would have understood Joseph’s smithing as a pos-
itive valuation of the dignity of honest work and
approved the transformation metaphor as inform-
ing the parallel process of controlling and altering
their own imperfect humanity into a higher spiri-
tual form. If the general role and qualities appar-
ently accorded the smith and smithing in early me-
dieval secular life are taken as guides, we can fur-
ther postulate that, for unlettered laypersons (and
Probably also some local clergy), Joseph as smith
Would have been accorded mystical powers and the
^suiting ambivalence that ordinary people feel for
that which surpasses their understanding and for
those who exist more or less on the margins of
s°cial and ideological propriety. At the very least,
as a smith Joseph would have been regarded as an
tUJcommon man; a type of “other” with skills and
qualities differing from those of ordinary persons
and ultimately suggestive of supernatural (divine)
Association.
In Christian context, supernatural association re-
nted Joseph to the creator god of Genesis. But early
Medieval Western European culture also preserved
a rich pagan tradition as foundation to its Chris-
tianity (e.g., Russell 1994). It is likely, therefore,
hat the populace of both high and low estate fur-
48 White (1978:101, 185f.); Glacken (1967:295); Hugh of
St. Victor (1961: 29f„ 55f., 75, 76, 191, n. 64); Le Goff
(1977: 81 f.).
Allthropos 101.2006
ther grounded their interpretations of Joseph within
pre-Christian lore and traditions that had long rec-
ognized pagan smiths as extraordinary beings with
fearsome magical powers. It would be informative
to contrast the assorted lore about Joseph in gen-
eral with characteristics of legendary pagan smiths
not only in Europe but also of the Mediterranean
and Near East. These could include the Greek He-
phaistos, the Hebrew Cain and Tubal-Gain, and,
in Europe, the Celtic Goibniu, Germanic Volundr,
Anglo-Saxon Wayland, and Scandinavian Ilmari-
nen.49 I conducted a detailed review of this sort
focusing on structural elements of myths as we
know them today. However, full presentation of
these materials here would be lengthy and, indeed,
that study requires a separate essay. Yet it may be
noted, in summary form, that when the exploits and
personal characteristics of these legendary smiths
are compared, the mythic smiths overall are seen to
be associated with a number of major cosmological
contexts. These include the original creation of life
and/or architectural building or other construction
projects; earthly materiality (as represented by the
products of their artisanry); travel or life outside
ordinary society and the liminal crossing of cos-
mological boundaries; unusual or less than ideal
circumstances of birth; transformative fires, purifi-
cation or salvation, and immortality; magic in gen-
eral; behavioral or physical stigmas. When any and
all events and characteristics pertinent to Joseph
are considered, Joseph as skilled craftsman and as
earthly parent of Jesus is found to fit these distin-
guishing features of legendary smiths to varying de-
gree but all-in-all remarkably well. (Significantly,
the few features that are not clearly applicable to
him do fit the figure of Jesus, reminding us of the
wording of Mark 6.3, in which it is Jesus who is
identified as the skilled craftsman).50
The early medieval identification of Joseph as
smith, and thus presumably as uncommon liminal
figure and cosmological or ideological “other” who
transforms earthly matter into finer purer forms,
49 The literature on these legendary smiths is extensive. The
following sources provide an introduction and much basic
information: Gantz (1993); Leach (1969); Lonnrot (1963:
48-50, 328, 355f.); Morris (1992); Robins (1953).
50 In early medieval Europe, pagan Germanic beliefs about
smiths might have been particularly influential in informing
concepts about Joseph as smith (see discussion below). In
addition, in the Christian ecclesiastical world and in popular
religious plays and pageants (e.g., Murdoch 2003: 90-93)
the figure of Cain/Tubal-Cain is given considerable, though
generally negative, attention. See discussions in Graves and
Patai (1964: 109f.); Mellinkoff (1981: 103, n. 1, chap. 5);
Morris (1992: 85, 96f.); Cohen (1999: 28-32, 35); Emerson
(1906).
462
Mary W. Helms
is also not incompatible with later medieval repre-
sentations of Joseph in the context of his relation-
ship with the rest of the Holy Family. As we have
seen, Joseph was typically portrayed as marginal
or as “other,” being representative of the Old Tes-
tament or of pre-Christian Jewishness, as well as
symbolic of “natural” man or Everyman marked
by the frailties and failings of specifically earthly
physical life and indicative of materiality rather
than of spiritual, meaning Christian, values. In a
number of respects this later medieval interpreta-
tion parallels the suggested early medieval view of
the extraordinary smith as a mysterious outsider
who lives and works on the edge of acceptable so-
ciety and associates with unsavory characters who
populate the spiritually unredeemed wilderness. As
the later medieval Joseph represented non-Chris-
tian/pre-Christian Jewishness, so the early medieval
smith represented an occupation with deep roots in
non-Christian/pre-Christian (pagan) European (and
Mediterranean and Near Eastern) belief systems.
The association of Joseph with earthly existence
and materiality in later medieval art and pageantry
also parallels the basic association of the smith with
the raw materials (stones, ores) of the earth. In ad-
dition, the theme of transformation and purification
of being is fundamental to both smithing and the
soteriological purpose of the incarnated godchild
who is the sole raison d’être of the Holy Family,
including Joseph.
In brief, as a liminal and anomalous smith and/or
as member of a liminal and anomalous family,
Joseph can be defined with the mixture of the posi-
tive and the negative that, by definition, is always
applied to liminal persons (see also Mellinkoff
1993: 267f., n. 148). In the limited official Chris-
tian ecclesiastical purview, Joseph the obedient
earthly husband-father was an extraordinarily kind,
just, and salutary parent and guardian. However,
Joseph the skilled smith, like Joseph the Jew, pre-
sumably also remained grounded in and defined
(and limited) by pagan or pre-Christian ideologies
and, like aging Everyman, was involved most di-
rectly with the earthly and material aspect of the
human condition.
Early Medieval Cosmologies
In addition to the general role and character pop-
ularly assigned to the early medieval smith, there
are several other broad elements of both orthodox
Catholic theology and the mixtures of Christian
and pagan beliefs constituting early medieval ver-
sions of Christianity that may have facilitated iden-
tification of Joseph as a smith. These include the
general cosmological orientation of canonical early
medieval Catholicism, Arianism, belief in magic,
and the general nature of Germanic Christianity.
During the early Middle Ages, Latin Christian-
ity’s cosmology and theology strongly emphasized
absolute first principles of original creation and
sacred beginnings (i.e., the Hexaemeron; Glacken
1967: 247).51 The nature of all reality, all nature
and all history, was directly referred to that incep-
tion as well as to the ultimate eschatological end,
after which eternity would once more be realized.
Similarly, God was a distant creator deity made
accessible to humans by a glorious Christ who was
also interpreted theologically as true divinity and
powerful pantokratór, a cosmic suprahuman often
depicted iconographically as supremely calm, dig-
nified, and majestically triumphant.52 It would befit
this cosmological climate if the earthly parents who
harbored the youthful incarnation of the glorious
Christ-God would also be portrayed as exceptional,
suprahuman, liminal figures who surpassed the or-
dinary to exemplify absolute qualities of perfec-
tion, power, and creativity in various ways. The
mysteries of Jesus’ conception and birth to a vir-
gin of impeccable rectitude obviously identify such
qualities in Mary, ideological descendant of diverse
pre-Christian female divinities, who was further el-
evated as Queen of Heaven in early medieval theol-
ogy (Warner 1976: chap. 7). Recognition of Joseph
as a smith, presumably well versed in the mysteri-
ous supernatural skills of his creative craft, identi-
fies them in him, too.
Indeed, metalworking would seem far more ap-
propriate than woodworking as a metaphor for the
first principle alpha and omega of original cosmie
creativity and ultimate eternal salvation because of
its greater technical mystery, that is to say, the un-
canny process by which the smith’s furnace pro-
duces a change of state in stone, transforming it to
51 For medieval thinkers, the Hexaemeron (the six days of cre-
ation) was the vital point at which the natural emanated from
the supernatural such that the material world was henceforth
subservient to the spiritual. Brehaut notes that the Hexae-
meron fascinated medieval thinkers as the doctrine of evolu-
tion intrigues modem scholars (1912: 79f., 69).
52 References for early medieval cosmology and theology are
many, but a list of useful sources can be found in Helms
(2002: 438, n. 4). See also Katzenellenbogen (1967); Bre-
haut (1912: 79f.); Hillgarth (1980: 31); Chaney (1967; 73)-
This theological perspective began to change markedly dur-
ing the 11-12th centuries, when Christian piety brought
God down to earth and gave greater consideration to the
humanity and “historicity” of Christ as well as to more prac-
tical exploration of God’s creative plan as seen in nature
(White 1947: 429; Ross 1997).
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
463
flowing liquid to be followed by a further stage in
which hardened metal is again softened and made
pliable by fire and forged, without breaking, into
new forms, all in a dramatic atmosphere of exces-
sive heat, flying sparks, dynamic hammering and
eruptions of steam from quenching water that can
readily appear as a microcosmic glimpse of su-
pernatural, indeed cosmic, creative potency. To be
sure, woodworking can convey notable imagery of
creational abilities, both in the realization of sculp-
tural images by carving and also when, in construc-
tion, new organization and design emerges as dis-
parate pieces of wood or other building material are
carefully trimmed and shaped and fitted together;
the skilled earthly master builder continuing the
Work of the primordial architect who first designed
and organized the constituent units of the universe,
fl is easy, therefore, to appreciate the appeal of
Joseph as woodworker and especially as master
builder.
Yet woodworking per se lacks the ultimate qual-
ity of mystery in processual technique - the amaz-
ing plasticity and durability of metals and the
astonishing transformational change of state that
smithing exploits and that underlay the long asso-
ciation of metals with magic (Salzberg 1991:9).
^ood and procedures for woodworking have less
inherent potential for evidencing seemingly su-
pernatural (magical) qualities and powers, though
^ood, and especially trees, the archetype of fruit-
ful vegetation (life), have long been accorded their
°Wn, very fundamental symbolism in Near East-
ern, Mediterranean, early Christian, and European
Pagan traditions (e.g., sacred trees and groves,
flic cross, trees of life, etc.; Helms 2002: 442f.;
^Jciggs 1982: 22). Nonetheless, within the context
°f skilled crafting, while processes of woodwork-
lng can accommodate and enhance by degree the
basic nature of raw wood by giving it representa-
bonal form by carving or shaping pieces to con-
f°rm to a new construction, metalworking not only
accornmodates but also appears to transform and
rarify the inherent basic nature of ores - and thus
Seemingly magically manipulates original creative
Processes and powers - by inducing fundamental
changes in kind (stone to liquid to solid metal) in
nature of the materials with which it works.
Early medieval Catholicism had good reason to
^xplicitly emphasize principles of creation and the
afl divinity of its pantocratic celestial Christ, and
J^Us to be especially open to creational symbols,
he highly influential “heresy” of Arianism, though
baring a great many commonalities with Catholi-
^lsm, challenged the inherent divinity of Christ
y affirming that, though an inspired prophet, he
^nthi
roPos 101.2006
was essentially a human creature (Watson 1989: xi;
Chadwick 1967: 249). It seems noteworthy that
three of the above texts identifying Joseph as smith
were written by bishops who strongly and actively
opposed Arianism’s influence in the church. Lean-
der and Isidore of Seville were dedicated supporters
of Catholicism at the time when Spain’s Visigothic
Arians officially converted to it. Several centuries
earlier, Hilary of Poitiers had also tirelessly and fa-
mously opposed Arianism and staunchly defended
Catholicism and the divinity of Christ.53 That such
respected members of the ecclesiastical elite iden-
tified the earthly father of Jesus as a smith, that is,
presumably as a creatively and mysteriously trans-
formational and liminal master craftsman, would
seem to be directly consistent with, and supportive
of, the anti-Arian position stressing the first princi-
ple nature of Christ as full and creative divinity.
Joseph the mysterious, magical smith was also
appropriate for Christianity’s growing accommo-
dation with traditional paganism in Europe; an ad-
justment culminating in an indistinguishable mix of
Christian and non-Christian beliefs and activities.54
One of the most firmly established principles of
this early medieval ideological amalgam, accepted
by laypersons and clergy alike, was firm belief in
magic; that is to say, belief that certain individu-
als had the ability to impose their will on external
forces of the world by mysterious (secret) means.
Technology had long been regarded as a category
of mysterious magical acts in which supernatural
powers dominated natural forces, and skilled crafts-
men, who could manipulate nature’s secrets with
spells and charms as well as with empirical knowl-
edge that they also kept secret, were easily apotheo-
sized as creative magi.55 *
Technology’s aura was well exemplified by
the smith (Eamon 1983: 173), and conceiving of
Joseph as magus would have been entirely con-
sonant with a milieu in which Catholic mission-
ary monks and clergy accepted such non-Chris-
tian magic as was deemed helpful in strengthening
Christianity’s acceptance within still largely pagan
cultures. Presenting Jesus not only as the divine son
of the original cosmic creator but also as incarnated
into the family of a skilled magus would be readily
53 Hilary’s position on Arianism postdated his writing of the
“Commentary on Matthew.” However, he apparently was
well aware, even at that time, of heresies impugning the
Godhead of Christ and firmly states his support of that
orthodox doctrinal position (Watson 1989: vii-viii).
54 Hillgarth (1980: 51-55); Jones (1963); see also Barb (1963)
and Dickie (1995).
55 Eamon (1983); Eliade (1962: 101); see also Kris and Kurz
(1979: chap. 3).
464
Mary W. Helms
understood by a populace whose Christianity was
strongly informed by earlier non-Christian person-
ages, rites, and beliefs and who accepted the pres-
ence of the marvelous on an everyday basis.56 For
that matter, in the New Testament, the apocryphal
accounts, and the early church in general, Jesus
himself was regarded not just as a divinity but also
as a miracle-working magician and thaumaturge,
contributing to the rise, thorough entrenchment,
and prominence throughout the early Middle Ages
of “a Christian form of wonder.” 57
Joseph’s typological characteristics presumably
were also significantly influenced by the overall
Germanization of Christianity which eventually be-
came normative (and especially influential as folk
religion) throughout much of early medieval Eu-
rope (Russell 1994). Among other features, the
Germanic impact on Latin Catholicism fostered
not only a heavily magico-religious perspective but
also a heroic, power-oriented ethos and worldview
that emphasized human life, temporal powers, and
rewards in this world and respect for nature’s pow-
erful and equivocal forces. Germanic Christian-
ity also was greatly concerned with the historical
drama of Christ’s earthly life and focused on the
power of the Christ-God to effect this-worldly life
more than on eschatological concerns and soterio-
logical aspirations (Russell 1994: 6f., 17, 23,188f.;
Le Goff 1977: 173 f.). Orthodox Latin Christianity,
of course, had a different focus. In terms of Joseph-
related symbolism, as we have seen, the aspect of
Joseph’s smithing that appealed to patristic fathers
mainly involved the powerful metaphorical im-
agery provided by metallurgy’s transformation by
fire wherein raw, imperfect earthly matter could be
changed into a new and purified substance of value,
analog for the overwhelming change that awaits the
faithful, who will ultimately be transformed and re-
deemed from sinful physicality to cleansed spiritual
perfection and eventual eternal life.
In contrast, it seems reasonable to suggest that,
as a more worldly Germanic-Christian context de-
veloped, the metaphorical emphasis of transforma-
tion by fire would have shifted from the ultimate
56 Barb (1963: 107, 115, 123); Flint (1991): Boenig (2000);
Jones (1963; 18-20); Chaney (1967); Russell (1994).
57 Flint (1991:33); Smith (1978); Herren and Brown (2002:
160-165, 173 f.). “Good” magic (miracles or mysteries) was
understood to further the relationship between people and
the supernatural in positive terms that improved human life.
Magic to control weather, solve everyday problems, or ef-
fect cures was acknowledged and sometimes even practiced
by Christian clergy, though many church spokesmen disap-
proved (Barb 1963: 106f.; Hillgarth 1980:47; Flint 1991;
Eamon 1983: 181).
soteriological and eschatological perspective that
ends the process to greater concern with the raw
material that begins both the salvational and the
metallurgical transformational processes. In other
words, Germanic Christianity may have particu-
larly emphasized the earthly (material) pole of the
matter - transformation - spirit continuum. If so,
Joseph as blacksmith would connote not only cre-
ational Master of Fire but also chthonic Master of
Matter (Vries 1974:51), an interpretation in ac-
cord, too, with long-standing Germanic and Ger-
manic Christian interest in the supernatural pow-
ers accorded material objects, such as the magical
swords, spears, helmets, etc. that legendary smiths
could craft (e.g., Russell 1994: 43).
If Joseph as a smith were to become particu-
larly associated with the materiality of his craft,
it is easy to extend his general identification with
matter beyond occupation to later medieval themes
in which he is related to symbols referencing ma-
teriality per se or appears as earthly Everyman bur-
dened with humanity’s foibles, failures, and physi-
cal weaknesses.58 However, a connection with mat-
ter is also strongly implied in some of the symbolic
meanings long accorded the raw materials with
which Joseph was always associated as a crafts-
man: wood and iron.
Base Matter: Wood and Iron
To identify Joseph as a craftsman in some form of
hard material is to place him in company with all
the artisans, including smiths, heralded in Ecclesi-
asticus as “maintain [ing] the fabric of the world’
(38.34). In the Near East, Mediterranean region,
and traditional Europe, wood and iron in particular
long maintained that fabric as raw materials essen-
tial to human survival.59 Wood was so fundamen-
tal a substance that it signified matter in general
in the ancient world; the Greek word for “matter
(hyle; that which was given form in the universe)
was simply the word for wood or lumber60 and
the Latin term materia (matter, material, stuff of
58 Possibly a somewhat parallel process may have encouraged
a change from an earlier identification of Joseph as mastei
builder or overseer, suggestive of God as a divine désigner-
as in Ulfila’s Gothic translation of the gospels (see note 20),
to his later medieval portrayal as a domestically-orienteo
woodworker with modest in-home workshop. See, for ex-
ample, Hahn (1986: 55); Stratton-Pruitt (2002: 33, 34, 43)-
59 Forbes (1958:14-22); Glacken (1967:318-325, 3361)’
Meiggs (1982).
60 Doresse (1960:80, n. 23); Bultmann (1956:128); Srnit
(1968: 639); see also Sambursky (1956).
Anthropos 1O1.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
465
which anything is composed) was also the word
for wood used in construction (Meiggs 1982: 359;
Hughes 1983: 440). In the European Middle Ages,
“wood (together with the produce of the earth) was
a material so precious that it became the symbol of
earthly goods” (Le Goff 1988a; 204). Le Goff, who
notes the early medieval tendency to see Joseph
as a blacksmith, also sees in the later medieval
identification of him as a woodworker “the incarna-
tion of the human condition in the wooden middle
ages” that may have manifested “medieval feeling
about raw materials,” including both the valuing of
earthly goods and the need for redemptive rising
above them (1988a: 207).
Iron also has long been accorded symbolic and
metaphorical significance, often as a substance
which is in some manner base, meaning qualita-
tively lacking or negative in attributes. In classi-
cal literature, coarse iron ore, which derived from
the wilds of the mountainous wasteland (Brown
1947: 38, 46), was ranked qualitatively as the low-
est metal (following gold, silver, and bronze) and
associated with humans (following gods and spir-
its; Treister 1996: 120). Centuries later, in north-
ern Europe, the Kalevala describes iron in broadly
similar terms as a personified substance originally
living in the wilderness and, therefore, wild, un-
tamed, and dangerous (Lbnnrot 1963: 48, lines 89-
100). In the European early Middle Ages, Isidore
°f Seville described iron as hard and cold (Brehaut
1912: 155 f.) while Bartholomew Angelicus (13th
century), in his discussion of “the Properties of
Things,” declared iron to be of the earth, though
capable of change by hammering (Addison 1908: 4,
110). Similarly, Roger Bacon, ranking minerals and
Petals on a scale of pure to impure, clean to un-
clean, puts iron at the bottom of the list as un-
clean, impure, and altogether too “earthy” (Bacon
1992: 4, 6). In the color-imagery of the early Chris-
tian tradition and the early Middle Ages, the dark-
ness of a lump of iron ore was a significant factor
lri its “baseness” since it signified the absence of
any element of godly (spiritual) light or luminos-
ny and thus represented the purely physical world,
^cath and night, and/or spiritual humility (Dronke
!974: 64, 76, 79).
Both wood and iron were further believed to be
’mbued with fundamental chthonic life force, wood
because it derives from living trees rooted in the
earth and iron because it was obtained from equally
living” stone also rooted in the earth (Plumpe
^43; see also Murray 1975: chap. 6). As a living
l°rce, however, wood is subject to eventual death
(rotting) and decay while iron is more durable (ev-
erlasting). Iron also was long accorded exceptional
Anthropos 101.2006
magical power useful for either good or evil pur-
poses but, in any event, requiring care in manage-
ment (Eliade 1962: 27-30).61 As this essay has re-
peatedly emphasized, iron’s greatest manifestation
of seemingly magical potencies (and its point of
greatest contrast with wood, both materially and
symbolically) lies in its capacity to be transformed
by heat and hammering from a lesser to a greater
(stronger) and purer material, whereas when wood
is affected by fire, no matter how spectacularly, it
ultimately loses worth and is consumed (dies), re-
duced to ash and charred remains.62
Nonetheless, during metallurgical purification
and transformation, the role of ore is as the ba-
sic raw material, the “irregular Lump” of mat-
ter (Robins 1953; 101), that begins the process of
change. Thus, iron ore can stand as metaphor for
whatever is to be (or could be) transformed into a
finer product, whether it be physical, mortal, sinful
(“impure”) humanity, as in early medieval Chris-
tian exegesis, or part of the lump of base black
matter that initiated the ideologically related and
soteriologically informed laboratory processes of
the alchemist in the later Middle Ages and there-
after. Indeed, iron’s most widespread medieval ap-
preciation as base or primary matter may lie with
late medieval alchemists who, as honorable schol-
ars and experimental artisans, correlated earth with
iron. Alchemists continued the long-standing in-
terests of smelters and smiths in living matter. As
Masters of Fire they, too, sought to understand and
control the magico-religious transformation of liv-
ing stone, sharing with Christianity (for many were
God-fearing men, even men in holy orders) a com-
mitment to seeking and perfecting means to achieve
the spiritual perfection of earthly material.63
61 To note a few examples, iron was not allowed in the con-
struction of Moses’ sacrificial altar to Yahweh and gener-
ally was not permitted in Greek sanctuaries or in certain
religious ceremonies in Rome (Robins 1953: 30 f.; Forbes
1956:59; McNutt 1990:217-219). In the European early
Middle Ages, and long after, iron’s inherent magical potency
determined whether it should be used to cut certain plants
and warded off the devil, witches, and storms (e.g., Flint
1991: 321, 324; Robins 1953: 28). According to Robins, in
Poland, when the initial introduction of iron ploughshares
was followed by bad harvest, farmers blamed the iron and
went back to using wood (1953: 31).
62 Charcoal is the exception to this statement, but charcoal,
though highly useful, seems to lack symbolic significance
in traditional lore.
63 Alchemy arrived in Western Europe during the 11 -13th cen-
turies and flourished for several centuries thereafter. For an
introduction to its theory and development see, among oth-
ers, Jung (1953); Hopkins (1934); Eliade (1962); Salzberg
(1991).
466
Mary W. Helms
Conclusion
In the cast of liminal personages enacting Chris-
tianity’s central theological drama, the role of
Joseph was long the most subdued. Yet Joseph
filled an important structural position in this sacred
myth as earthly analog of God the Father and God
the Creator. As such, he supplied vital functions in
the canonical narrative as Jesus’ genealogical and
Mary’s social legitimator and protector. In addi-
tion, Joseph grounds the saga of the Holy Family
within the wider existential mysteries of universal
creation and cosmological transformation as these
are manifested by processes of skilled crafting. In
so doing, he stands typologically, in Christianity, as
archetype of earthly artisans, manipulating tangible
matter and intangible supernatural potencies to cre-
ate new forms.
In cross-cultural perspective, the archetypical
skilled craftsman has long been the smith, an ex-
traordinary figure closely related traditionally to
the shaman in ideological and cosmological sig-
nificance. It is not surprising, yet also fascinating,
that during a still formative period of its West-
ern European development, Christianity to at least
some degree associated the earthly father of its lim-
inal god-child with this most mysterious of liminal
enterprises. It is also interesting, though perhaps
merely coincidental, that this early medieval iden-
tification was paralleled by a notable silence in the
official church in general about Joseph as a figure in
Christian theology. Conversely, judging by exegeti-
cal commentary, the metaphorical value of the pro-
cess of transformation and purification of matter by
fire was appreciated by at least some early medieval
church fathers since it evoked the spiritual purifi-
cation of humanity and the soteriological progress
of the soul which lay at Christianity’s theological
core.
Such imagery was nothing new. It was widely
used well before the early Middle Ages in pre-
Christian Hebrew traditions and appears after the
early Middle Ages in late medieval (and later)
Western European intellectual contexts. In “The
Forging of Israel,” Paula McNutt (1990) explores in
detail metallurgical imagery and the symbolism of
iron technology in the Hebrew Bible, including the
metaphor of transformation by fire as it relates to
the ancient Israelite understanding and presentation
of its sacred history (e.g., Egypt as a womb-like
“iron furnace” whence Israel will be transformed,
strengthened, and reborn socially and spiritually as
a people). Over a millennium later, Western Eu-
ropean alchemists, in spite of official opposition
by the church, sought, with frequent reference to
the opening chapters of Genesis (Eliade 1962: 225;
Patai 1994: 18), to continue and hasten nature’s
(God’s) processes of maturation and to perfect the
spiritual growth of base matter (living stone) by
probing, in the laboratory, into processes of creative
transformation as they occurred in the hermetically
sealed retort, where changes in the color of met-
als (indicative of the qualitative presence of light)
would reveal the degree of spirituality achieved.64
Joseph as a smith in the early Middle Ages,
therefore, is not an anomaly. Rather, appreciation
of the cosmological and theological metaphors ex-
pressed by metallurgical processes and thus, pre-
sumably by extension, identification of Joseph him-
self as a smith, contained intrinsic worth. Though
specific data are woefully limited, it can be sug-
gested that this identification was not only ecclesi-
astical metaphorical hyperbole, or simply an acci-
dent of linguistic translation, or just useful accom-
modation with pagan beliefs, or helpful refutation
of heretical opinion, or part of a ubiquitous belief
in magic, though to varying degree all of these may
well have been involved, but also part of on-going
Judaic and Christian and pagan traditions (held in
common with numerous other societies, too) in-
volving the mysteries of material transformation
that the uncanny knowledge and exceptional skills
of the smith made manifest and controlled.
It is also tempting to suggest that, while canoni-
cal medieval Christianity appreciated and appropri-
ated the ideological power of the transformational
metallurgical process, it was hesitant to openly ac-
knowledge the potency of the smith as an extraor-
dinary liminal figure himself, for Joseph’s alter-
nate identity as a woodworker has always been
far more acceptable, perhaps at least in part be-
cause both woodworking and woodworkers were
inherently less mysterious entities and thus could
be more readily co-opted or “domesticated” into
the service of promoting the greater liminality and
divinity of the central person of Jesus.65 Smiths
do not labor quietly and unobtrusively, sidelined in
small residential workshops, as Christian lore and
iconography have typically represented for Joseph
as woodworker. Smiths and their smithies are be-
64 Appreciation of the cosmological power and mystery of
smithing continues to be evoked in literature into the present
day. To note but one example, consider the poem titled “The
Forge” by the Irish writer Seamus Heaney, which describes
the obliterating darkness of the smithy, the noisy creative
work of the earthy smith, and, set at the center of it all
the ritualistic anvil, “immovable; an altar” where the smith
expends his talent (1980: 49).
65 Parallels between wood’s ability to die and decay and Ev-
eryman, as represented by Joseph, as a mortal form that dies
and decays may be relevant here, too.
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
467
yond the ordinary and set apart as focal and as
wondrous in themselves. Ultimately, especially as
the human component of Jesus’ hypostatic dual-
ity came to be emphasized during the later Middle
Ages (see note 52), Joseph as smith, archetypical
Master of Fire, simply may have had too much ide-
ological potency to offer to fit comfortably merely
as adjunct to more illustrious members of the Holy
Family. Thus, any further pyrotechnic interests of
the father guardian - cum - humble woodworker
henceforth would be represented by, and strictly
limited to, those of the domestic hearth.
References Cited
Addison, Julia de Wolf Gibbs
1908 Arts and Crafts in the Middle Ages. Boston: L. C. Page.
Aelfric, Abbot of Eynsham
1968 Homilies of Aelfric. A Supplementary Collection. Vol. 2.
Ed. by John C. Pope. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Albright, W. R, and C. S. Mann
1971 Matthew. Garden City: Doubleday. (The Anchor Bible,
26)
Uacon, Roger
1992 The Mirror of Alchemy. Composed by the Thrice-
Famous and Learned Fryer, Roger Bachon. Ed. by Stan-
ton J. Linden. New York: Garland Publishing.
fiarb, A. A.
1963 The Survival of Magic Arts. In: A. Momigliano (ed.),
The Conflict between Paganism and Christianity in the
Fourth Century; pp. 100-125. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
^atey, Richard A,
1984 “Is Not This the Carpenter?” New Testament Studies 30:
249-258.
Merger, Samuel
1893 Histoire de la Vulgate pendant les premiers siècles du
Moyen Age. New York: Burt Franklin.
Üiblia sacra
1969 Biblia sacra. luxta Yulgatam versionem. Vol. 2. Stuttgart:
Württembergische Bibelanstalt.
^Hnt, Anthony
1938-39 Blake’s “Ancient of Days.” The Symbolism of the
Compasses. Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld In-
stitutes 2: 53-63.
^°enig, Robert
H00 Anglo-Saxon Spirituality. Selected Writings. New York:
Paulist Press.
^°sworth, Joseph
The Gospels. Gothic, Anglo-Saxon, Wycliffe, and Tyn-
dale Versions. London: Gibbings.
Rehaut, Ernest
U An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages. Isidore of Seville.
New York: Longmans, Green, and Co.
|h°Wn, Norman O.
^7 Hermes the Thief. The Evolution of a Myth. Madison:
University of Wisconsin Press.
Bultmann, Rudolf
1956 Primitive Christianity in Its Contemporary Setting. New
York: Meridian Books.
Burford, Alison
1972 Craftsmen in Greek and Roman Society. Ithaca: Cornell
University Press.
Caxton, William
1931 The Golden Legend or Lives of the Saints. London: J. M.
Dent.
Chadwick, Henry
1967 The Early Church. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books.
Chaney, William A.
1967 Paganism to Christianity in Anglo-Saxon England. In:
S. L. Thrupp (ed.), Early Medieval Society; pp. 67-83.
New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts.
Childs, S. Terry, and David Killick
1993 Indigenous African Metallurgy. Nature and Culture. An-
nual Review of Anthropology 22: 317-337.
Chorpenning, Joseph F.
1999 Commentary. Sermon Texts on Saint Francis by Francis
de Sales. Toronto; Peregrina Publishing.
Cohen, Jeremy
1999 Living Letters of the Law. Ideas of the Jew in Medieval
Christianity. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Collins, Roger
2000 Visigothic Spain 409-711. In: R. Carr (ed.), Spain. A
History; pp. 39-62. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Coogan, Michael D. (ed.)
2001 New Oxford Annotated Bible. Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity Press. [3rd ed., New Revised Standard Version]
Cross, J. E. (ed.)
1996 Two Old English Apocrypha and Their Manuscript
Source. The Gospel of Nicodemus and the Avenging of
the Savior. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Cunliffe, Barry
2001 Facing the Ocean. The Atlantic and Its Peoples 8000
B.C.-A.D. 1500. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Curtius, Ernst Robert
1953 European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages. New
York; Pantheon Books.
Daniell, David
2003 The Bible in English. Its History and Influence. New
Haven; Yale University Press.
Danielou, Jean
1973 Gospel Message and Hellinistic Culture. Philadelphia:
Westminster Press.
Danker, Frederick William
2000 A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and
Other Early Christian Literature. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press. [3rd. ed.]
Deasy, C. Philip
1937 St. Joseph in the English Mystery Plays. Washington:
The Catholic University of America.
Detienne, Marcel, and Jean-Pierre Vernant
1978 Cunning Intelligence in Greek Culture and Society. New
Jersey: Humanities Press.
4nihr
■opos 101.2006
468
Mary W. Helms
Diaz, Pablo C.
2001 Monasteries in a Peripheral Area. Seventh-Century Gal-
laecia. In: M. de Jong and F. Theuws (eds.), Topogra-
phies of Power in the Early Middle Ages; pp. 329-360.
Leiden: E. J. Brill.
Díaz y Diaz, Manuel C.
1963 Aspects de la tradición de la Regula Isidori. Studia
Monástica 5; 27-57.
Dickie, Matthew W.
1995 The Fathers of the Church and the Evil Eye. In: H.
Maguire (ed.), Byzantine Magic; pp. 9-34. Washington:
Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection.
Dillon, John
1996 The Middle Platonists 80 B.C. to A.D. 220. New York:
Cornell University Press.
Doresse, Jean
1960 The Secret Books of the Egyptian Gnostics. New York:
The Viking Press.
Dronke, Peter
1974 Tradition and Innovation in Medieval Western Colour-
Imagery. In: A. Portraann and R. Ritsema (eds.), The
Realms of Colour; pp. 51 -108. Leiden; E. J. Brill.
Duby, Georges
1968 Rural Economy and Country Life in the Medieval West.
Columbia: University of South Carolina Press.
Dunleavy, Gareth W.
1960 Colum’s Other Island. The Irish at Lindisfame. Madison;
University of Wisconsin Press.
Eamon, William
1983 Technology as Magic in the Late Middle Ages and Re-
naissance. Janus 70: 171-212.
Eco, Umberto
2004 History of Beauty. New York: Rizzoli.
Edsman, Carl-Martin
1949 Ignis Divinus. Lund: C. W. K. Gleerup. (Publications of
the New Society of Letters at Lund, 34)
Eliade, Mircea
1959 The Sacred and the Profane. New York: Harcourt, Brace,
and World.
1962 The Forge and the Crucible. New York: Harper and Row.
1964 Shamanism. Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy. Princeton:
Princeton University Press.
Elliott, James Keith
1993 The Apocryphal New Testament. Oxford; Clarendon
Press.
Emerson, Oliver F.
1906 Legends of Cain, Especially in Old and Middle English.
Publications of the Modern Language Association of
America 21: 831-929.
Farmer, David Hugh
1992 The Oxford Dictionary of Saints. Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
Filas, Francis L.
1962 Joseph. The Man Closest to Jesus. Boston: St. Paul Edi-
tions.
Flint, Valerie I. J.
1991 The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe. Princeton:
Princeton University Press.
Forbes, R. J,
1956 Metallurgy. In: C. Singer et al. (eds.), A History of Tech-
nology. Vol. 2; pp. 41-80. Oxford: The Clarendon Press.
1958 Studies in Ancient Technology. Vol. 6. Leiden; E. J-
Brill.
1964 Studies in Ancient Technology. Vol. 8. Leiden: E. J-
Brill.
Forshall, Josiah, and Frederic Madden (eds.)
1850 The Holy Bible Containing the Old and New Testaments,
with the Apocryphal Books, in the Earliest English Ver-
sions ... by John Wycliffe and His Followers. Vol. 4.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Foster, Frances A. (ed.)
1987 A Stanzaic Life of Christ. Millwood: Kraus Reprint.
(Early English Text Society, 166) [London 1926]
Friedrichsen, G. W. S.
1926 The Gothic Version of the Gospels. London: Oxford
University Press.
Furfey, Paul H.
1955 Christ as Tekton. The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 17:
204-215.
Gantz, Timothy
1993 Early Greek Myth. A Guide to Literary and Artistic
Sources. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Gasnier, Michel
2000 Joseph the Silent. London: Scepter.
Geoghegan, Arthur T.
1945 The Attitude towards Labor in Early Christianity and
Ancient Culture. Washington: The Catholic University
of America Press.
Glacken, Clarence J.
1967 Traces on the Rhodian Shore. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Godfrey, John
1962 The Church in Anglo-Saxon England. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press.
Grant, Robert M.
1986 The Christ at the Creation. In: R. J. Hoffmann and G. A-
Larue (eds.), Jesus in History and Myth; pp. 157-167-
Buffalo: Prometheus Books.
Graves, Robert, and Raphael Patai
1964 Hebrew Myths. The Book of Genesis. Garden City:
Doubleday.
Hahn, Cynthia
1984 Joseph as Ambrose’s “Artist of the Soul” in “The Holy
Family in Egypt” by Albrecht Diirer. Zeitschrift fur
Kunstgeschichte 47: 515-522.
1986 “Joseph Will Perfect Mary Enlighten and Jesus Save
Thee.” The Holy Family as Marriage Model in the
Merode Triptych. The Art Bulletin 68: 54-66.
Hale, Rosemary Drage
1996 Joseph as Mother. Adaptation and Appropriation in the
Construction of Male Virtue. In: J. Carmi Parsons and
B. Wheeler (eds.), Medieval Mothering; pp. 101 — 11^-
New York: Garland Publishing.
Hanson, K. C., and Douglas E. Oakman
1998 Palestine in the Time of Jesus. Social Structures and
Social Conflicts. Minneapolis: Fortress Press.
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
469
Hardwick, Charles
1858 The Gospel According to Saint Matthew in Anglo-
Saxon and Northumbrian Versions. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press.
Heaney, Seamus
1980 Poems 1965-1975. New York: Farrar, Straus, and
Giroux.
Heather, Peter, and John Matthews
1991 The Goths in the Fourth Century. Liverpool: Liverpool
University Press.
Helms, Mary W.
1993 Craft and the Kingly Ideal. Art, Trade, and Power.
Austin: University of Texas Press.
2002 Sacred Landscape and the Early Medieval European
Cloister. Unity, Paradise, and the Cosmic Mountain. An-
thwpos 97: 435-453.
Herren, Michael W,
1980 On the Earliest Irish Acquaintance with Isidore of
Seville. In: E. James (ed.), Visigothic Spain. New Ap-
proaches; pp. 243-250. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Herren, Michael W., and Shirley Ann Brown
2002 Christ in Celtic Christianity. Britain and Ireland from the
Fifth to the Tenth Century. Woodbridge: Boydell Press.
Hillgarth, J. N.
1962 Visigothic Spain and Early Christian Ireland. Proceed-
ings of the Royal Irish Academy 62 (Sec. C); 167-194.
1980 Popular Religion in Visigothic Spain. In: E. James (ed.),
Visigothic Spain. New Approaches; pp. 3-60. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.
1984 Ireland and Spain in the Seventh Century. Peritia 3:1-
16.
Hock, Ronald F.
1995 The Infancy Gospels of James and Thomas. Santa Rosa:
Polebridge Press.
H°gg, James, and Lawrence F. Powell (eds.)
1989 The Mirrour of the Blessed Lyf of Jesu Christ. 2 vols.
Transl. by Nicholas Love. Salzburg: Institut für Anglis-
tik und Amerikanistik, Universität Salzburg. (Analecta
Cartusiana, 91)
Homer
1951 The Iliad of Homer. Transl. by Richard Lattimore.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
62 The Odyssey of Homer. Transl. by Richard Lattimore.
New York: Harper and Row.
H°Pkins, Arthur John
24 Alchemy, Child of Greek Philosophy. New York:
Columbia University Press.
H°rn, Walter, and Ernest Born
29 The Plan of St. Gall. A Study of the Architecture and
Economy of, and Life in a Paradigmatic Carolingian
Monastery. Vol. 2. Berkeley; University of California
Press.
j^Ogh of St. Victor
1 The Didascalicon of Hugh of St. Victor. Transl. by
Jerome Taylor. New York: Columbia University Press.
jHtghes, J, Donald
2 How the Ancients Viewed Deforestation. Journal of
Field Archaeology 10: 437-445.
Jacob, Edmond
1958 Theology of the Old Testament. New York: Harper and
Row.
Jones, A. H. M.
1963 The Social Background of the Struggle between Pagan-
ism and Christianity. In: A. Momigliano (ed.), The Con-
flict between Paganism and Christianity in the Fourth
Century; pp. 17-37. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Jung, C. G.
1953 Psychology and Alchemy. London: Routledge and
Kegan Paul.
Kardong, Terrence C.
1996 Benedict’s Rule. A Translation and Commentary. Col-
legeville: Liturgical Press.
Katzenellenbogen, Adolf
1967 The Image of Christ in the Early Middle Ages. In: R. S.
Hoyt (ed.), Life and Thought in the Early Middle Ages;
pp. 66-84. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Keel, Othmar
1978 The Symbolism of the Biblical World. Ancient Near
Eastern Iconography and the Book of Psalms. New York:
Seabury Press.
Kelly, John N. D.
1978 Early Christian Doctrines. New York: Harper and Row.
Kris, Ernst, and Otto Kurz
1979 Legend, Myth, and Magic in the Image of the Artist. New
Haven: Yale University Press.
Lawrence, C. H.
1989 Medieval Monasticism. London: Longman. [2nd ed.]
Leach, Edmund
1969 Genesis as Myth and Other Essays. London; Jonathan
Cape. (Cape Editions, 39)
Leach, Edmund, and D. Alan Aycock
1983 Structuralist Interpretations of Biblical Myth. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press.
Leander of Seville
1969 The Training of Nuns. In: C. W. Barlow (trans.), The
Fathers of the Church. Iberian Fathers. Vol. 1; pp. 183-
228. Washington: Catholic University of America Press.
Leclercq, Jean
1984 Otium Monasticum as a Context for Artistic Creativity.
In: T. G. Verdón (ed.), Monasticism and the Arts; pp. 63-
80. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press.
Le Goff, Jacques
1977 Time, Work, and Culture in the Middle Ages. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
1988a Medieval Civilization 400-1500. New York: Basil
Blackwell.
1988b The Medieval Imagination. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press.
Lewis, Robert E. (ed.)
1988 Middle English Dictionary. Part S. 9. Ann Arbor: Uni-
versity of Michigan Press.
2001 Middle English Dictionary. Part W. 8. Ann Arbor: Uni-
versity of Michigan Press.
Lienhard, Joseph T.
1999 St. Joseph in Early Christianity. Philadelphia: Saint
Joseph’s University Press.
Anthr
'°Pos 101.2006
470
Mary W. Helms
Long, Lynne
2001 Translating the Bible. From the 7th to the 17th Century.
Aldershot: Ashgate.
Limnrot, Elias (ed.)
1963 The Kalevala or Poems of the Kaleva District. Cam-
bridge: Harvard University Press.
McNutt, Paula M,
1990 The Forging of Israel. Iron Technology, Symbolism, and
Tradition in Ancient Society. Sheffield: Almond Press.
Mayr-Harting, Henry
1991 The Coming of Christianity to Anglo-Saxon England.
University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press.
Meier, John P.
1991 A Marginal Jew. Rethinking the Historical Jesus. New
York: Doubleday.
Meiggs, Russell
1982 Trees and Timber in the Ancient Mediterranean World.
Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Mellinkoff, Ruth
1981 The Mark of Cain. Berkeley: University of California
Press.
1993 Outcasts. Signs of Otherness in Northern European Art
of the Late Middle Ages. Berkeley: University of Cali-
fornia Press.
Migne, Jacques-Paul (ed.)
1844-64 Patrologiae cursus completus. Turnhout: Brepols-
Verl.
Morris, Sarah P.
1992 Daidalos and the Origins of Greek Art. Princeton:
Princeton University Press.
Mounce, William D.
1993 The Analytical Lexicon to the Greek New Testament.
Grand Rapids: Zondervan.
Murdoch, Brian
2003 The Medieval Popular Bible. Expansions of Genesis in
the Middle Ages. Cambridge: D. S. Brewer.
Murray, Robert
1975 Symbols of Church and Kingdom. A Study in Early Syr-
iac Tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Neale, J. M., and R. E Littledale
1883 A Commentary on the Psalms. Vol. 4: Psalm 119 to
Psalm 150. London: Joseph Masters.
Nef, John U.
1987 Mining and Metallurgy in Medieval Civilization. In:
M. M. Postan and E. Miller (eds.), The Cambridge Eco-
nomic History of Europe. Vol. 2: Trade and Industry in
the Middle Ages: pp. 693-762. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press. [2nd ed.]
Niditch, Susan
1985 Chaos to Cosmos. Studies in Biblical Patterns of Cre-
ation. Chico: Scholars Press.
Nineham, D. E.
1963 The Gospel of St. Mark. Baltimore: Penguin Books.
Packer, James E.
1969 Roman Imperial Building (31 B.C. - A.D. 138). In; C.
Roebuck (ed.), The Muses at Work. Arts, Crafts, and
Professions in Ancient Greece and Rome; pp. 36-59.
Cambridge: The MIT Press.
Patai, Raphael
1994 The Jewish Alchemists. Princeton: Princeton University
Press.
Plumpe, J. C.
1943 Vivum Saxum, Vivi Lapides. The Concept of “Living
Stone” in Classical and Christian Antiquity. Traditio 1:
1-14.
Ragusa, Isa, and Rosalie B. Green (eds.)
1961 Meditations on the Life of Christ. Princeton: Princeton
University Press.
Richter, Michael
1988 Medieval Ireland. The Enduring Tradition. New York:
St. Martin’s Press.
Robins, Frederick W.
1953 The Smith. The Traditions and Lore of an Ancient Craft-
New York: Rider.
Rogers, Rick
2000 Theophilus of Antioch. The Life and Thought of a
Second-Century Bishop. Lanham: Lexington Books.
Ross, Ellen M.
1997 The Grief of God. Images of the Suffering Jesus in Late
Medieval England. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Russell, James C.
1994 The Germanization of Early Medieval Christianity. A
Sociohistorical Approach to Religious Transformation-
New York: Oxford University Press.
Salzberg, Hugh W.
1991 From Caveman to Chemist. Washington: American
Chemical Society.
Sambursky, S,
1956 The Physical World of the Greeks. New York: MacMil-
lan.
Sarton, George
1947 Introduction to the History of Science. Vol. 3, Part 1: Sci-
ence and Learning in the Fourteenth Century. Baltimore:
Williams and Wilkins.
Schiller, Gertrud
1971 Iconography of Christian Art. Vol. 1. Greenwich: New
York Graphic Society.
Sheingorn, Pamela
1996 The Maternal Behavior of God. Divine Father as Fantasy
Husband. In: J. Carmi Parsons and B. Wheeler (eds-)>
Medieval Mothering; pp. 77-100. New York: Garland
Publishing.
Simonetti, Manlio
1994 Biblical Interpretation in the Early Church. An Histori-
cal Introduction to Patristic Exegesis. Edinburgh: T & ^
Clark.
Simpson, D, P.
1968 Cassell’s Latin Dictionary. Latin-English, English-Latin-
London: Cassell.
Singer, Charles, et al. (eds.)
1956 A History of Technology. Vol. 2: The Mediterranean
Civilizations and the Middle Ages c. 700 B.C. to A-P-
1500. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Smalley, Beryl
1964 The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages. Notre Dame-
University of Notre Dame Press.
Anthropos 101.2006
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early Medieval Europe
471
Smith, Cyril Stanley
1968 Matter versus Materials. A Historical View. Science 162:
637-644.
Smith, Morton
1978 Jesus the Magician. New York: Harper and Row.
Stratton-Pruitt, Suzanne L.
2002 Bartolomé Esteban Murillo (1617-1682). Paintings
from American Collections. New York: Harry N.
Abrams.
Streitberg, Wilhelm
1960 Die Gotische Bibel. Heidelberg; Carl Winter.
Tatianas
1966 Tatian. Lateinisch und altdeutsch mit ausführlichem
Glossar. Hrsg, von Eduard Sievers. Paderborn: Ferdi-
nand Schöningh Verlag.
Taylor, Jerome
1961 Introduction. In: Hugh of St. Victor, The Didascalicon of
Hugh of St. Victor (Transí, by Jerome Taylor); pp. 1 -39.
New York: Columbia University Press.
Theophilus
1961 De Diuersis Artibus. The Various Arts. Transí, by C. R.
Dodwell. London: Thomas Nelson and Sons.
^979 On Divers Arts. Transí, by John G. Hawthorne and Cyril
Stanley Smith. New York: Dover Publications.
Theophilus of Antioch
1970 Ad Autolycum. Transí, by Robert M. Grant. Oxford:
Clarendon Press.
Thompson, Edward A.
1966 The Visigoths in the Time of Ulfila. Oxford: Clarendon
Press.
Thomson, R. H. G.
1956 The Medieval Artisan. In: C. Singer, etal. (eds.);
pp. 383-396.
Toller, T. Northcote (ed.)
°^8 An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary Based on the Manuscript
Collections of the Late Joseph Bosworth. London: Ox-
ford University Press.
Treister, Michail Y.
1996 The Role of Metals in Ancient Greek History. Leiden:
E. J. Brill.
Verdon, Timothy Gregory
1984 Monasticism and Christian Culture. In: T. G. Verdon
(ed.), Monasticism and the Arts; pp. 1-28. Syracuse;
Syracuse University Press.
Verhulst, Adriaan
2002 The Carolingian Economy. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
von Rad, Gerhard
1965 Old Testament Theology. Vol. 2. Transl. by D. M. G.
Stalker. New York: Harper and Row.
Vries, Ad de
1974 Dictionary of Symbols and Imagery. Amsterdam: North-
Holland Publishing.
Walbank, Frank William
1987 Trade and Industry under the Later Roman Empire in the
West. In: M. M. Postan and E. Miller (eds.), The Cam-
bridge Economic History of Europe. Vol. 2: Trade and
Industry in the Middle Ages; pp. 74-131. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press. [2nd ed.]
Warner, Marina
1976 Alone of All Her Sex. The Myth and the Cult of the
Virgin Mary. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
Watson, E. W.
1989 Introduction. In: E. W. Watson and L. Pullan (transl.),
St. Hilary of Poitiers. Select Works; pp. i-xcvi. Edin-
burgh: T & T Clark. (A Select Library of Nicene and
Post-Nicene Fathers, 2nd Series, 9)
White, Lynn Jr.
1947 Natural Science and Naturalistic Art in the Middle Ages.
The American Historical Review 52: 421-435.
1962 Medieval Technology and Social Change. London; Ox-
ford University Press.
1978 Medieval Religion and Technology. Collected Essays.
Berkeley: University of California Press.
Wilson, Carolyn C.
2001 St. Joseph in Italian Renaissance Society and Art.
Philadelphia: Saint Joseph’s University Press.
Anthr
'opos 101.2006
Mû a
dimension to
your
sociology
research...
sociological
abstracts
Comprehensivey cost-effective, timely coverage of current ideas
in sociological research
Abstracts of articles, books, and
conference papers from nearly 2,000
journals published in 35 countries;
citations of relevant dissertations as
well as books and other media.
Available in print or electronically through CSA Illumina
(www.csa.com).
Contact sales@csa.com for trial Internet access or a sample
issue.
Now featuring:
• Cited references
•Additional abstracts
covering 1963-1972
ILLUMINA
www.csa.com
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 473-497
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos
der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
Abstract. - In the years 1948/49 Dominik Schröder noted down
a Monguor version of the Gesar epic, of which he could translate
°nly some parts; after his death in 1974 the manuscript was
edited in 1980 by Walther Heissig. In 1988 another version of
*be Monguor-Gesar was published in Chinese translation in a
Chinese Gesar research periodical. In comparison to Schroder’s
record this epic demonstrates significant alterations but also
helPs us to understand some of the parts which Schröder was
n°t able to translate. On the other hand these two versions reveal
*be traits which connect them with motives, motive chains, and
Plots of Mongolian and Tibetan storytelling and Gesar/Geser
traditions. They also demonstrate the attributes and pecularities
°f the Monguor-Gesariade and prove that the similar motive
chain and construction of the two variants represent a distinct
^ral poetry theme among the Gesar/Geser traditions in Innerasia.
languor, Gesar, Geser, epic, folklore, folktale, oral poetry]
Bruno J. Richtsfeld, Dr. phil. (München 1989), Leiter der Ab-
teilung Inner- und Ostasien am Staatlichen Museum für Völker-
krinde München. Zu seinen Publikationen zählen neben Beiträ-
in Museumspublikationen auch Veröffentlichungen zu den
hörnen Schamanismus in der Mandschurei und Erzähltraditio-
nen Innerasiens; siehe zitierte Literatur.
^ Einleitung
Jahren 1948/49 zeichnete Dominik Schröder
: 0-1974) bei den Monguor im heutigen Au-
J?n°men Monguor/Tu-Kreis Huzhu (chin.; Huzhu
üzu Zizhixian, tib.: dgon-luh [Gonlung]; nordöst-
Jches Qinghai) 11 999 Zeilen, d. h. zwei Drittel,
p'nes Gesar-Epos auf, das ihm der Monguor-Barde
yUanbo-sdzia vortrug. Schröder konnte davon vor
^lassen seines Forschungsgebietes am 1. Juli
- die Volksbefreiungsarmee besetzte das Ge-
biet im September 1949 (Li Keyu 1992: 5) - unter
Anleitung des Barden und von dessen Schwieger-
vater Tuo Ifula (Duo Yifula; s. Yang Si 1987: 29)
noch 2 450 Zeilen übersetzen.1 Der Barde Guänbo-
sdzia (chin. Transkription; Gongbu bzw. Guanbo-
jia) stammte aus Xiaoyangjuan in Daquan, Ge-
meinde Dongshan, Kreis Huzhu, und verdiente sei-
nen Lebensunterhalt mit dem Bemalen von Truhen
und Schränken. Sein chinesischer Name war Wang
Wenyu; Yang Si erwähnt ihn unter dem Namen Ye-
bu (1987: 29). Schröder gibt als Geburtsjahr 1903
an (1959: 9; Heissig 1980: 8), Yang Enhong ver-
zeichnet hingegen die Lebensdaten mit 1900 bis
1974 (1988: 5f.).
Nach Schröders Tod machte Walther Heissig
(1913-2005) erstmals im Jahre 1977 auf das wert-
volle Gesar-Fragment aufmerksam und publizierte
1980 das hinterlassene Manuskript mit Schröders
Übersetzungen bzw. Übersetzungsentwürfen.
In der zweiten Hälfte der 80er Jahre des 20. Jahr-
hunderts wurden von chinesischen Forschern bei
den Monguor Teile weiterer Varianten des Gesar-
Epos sowie auf Gesar bezogene Erzählungen und
Sagen aufgezeichnet. Es hat den Anschein, dass
die chinesische Forschung sich insbesondere auf
die Vorgeburts- und Geburtsepisode konzentrierte,
1 Schröder (1959:8-16; s. 1952-53: “Lebenslauf” [ohne
Paginierung]). - Zu Aufzeichnung und Übersetzung der
Monguor-Geseriade s. Heissig (1977, 1980) sowie Schrö-
der (1959: 11-14), zu der Zusammenarbeit mit Tuo Ifula
(1883-1949) vgl. ausführlich Schröder (1952-53: 8-16).
474
die im Monguor-Epos besonders ausgearbeitet ist,2
während bisher nur wenig von den übrigen Tei-
len bekannt ist. Auch Schröder hatte es vor allem
dieser Teil des Epos angetan. Er plante den “Ori-
ginaltext der Geser-Sage und hieraus [nachträgli-
che Hervorhebung] die kommentierte Übersetzung
der Vorgeschichte bis zum öffentlichen Auftreten
Gesers” als Band 3 seiner Reihe “Aus der Volks-
dichtung der Monguor” zu veröffentlichen.3 Nach
Wang Xingxian ist die Geseriade bei den Monguor
unter dem tibetischen Titel “Ge-sar rnam-thar” (Le-
bensgeschichte d0s Gesar; chin. und mongol. Über-
setzung: Gesa’r wang zhuan bzw. Geser namtar)
bekannt und umfasst acht Hauptabschnitte: “Die
Erschaffung der Welt durch Abu Lang [Schröder:
Hamluo], das zerstörerische Werk des Qiaotong
[Tsitong], die Geburt des Gesar, der Kampf zwi-
schen Dui [Ut/Bdud] und Ling, der Kampf zwi-
schen Huo [Hör] und Ling, der Kampf zwischen
Jiang [Jang; in NW-Tibet] und Ling, der Kampf
zwischen Jia [rGya, d. i. China] und Ling sowie die
Wiederherstellung der Ordnung in den drei Wel-
ten. Der Abschnitt der Weltschöpfung durch Abu
Lang [Hamluo] ist eine Besonderheit des Monguor-
Epos, der - den bisher bekannt gewordenen Bei-
spielen nach zu schließen - nicht im tibetischen
Gesar-Epos vorkommt”.4 * Eine Liste von sechsund-
dreißig bis dato bekannt gewordenen Abschnitten
der tibetischen Gesariade veröffentlichte Xu Guo-
qiong (1986: 42f.; eine ähnliche, weniger syste-
matische Liste bietet Tong Jinhua 1986: 50-55).
Dieser folgend kann man die Titel der Abschnitte
des Monguor-Gesar in Beziehung setzen zu den
tibetischen Abschnitten mit den Nummern 1 (Tian
Ling bushi/lha. glih gab-rtse dgu-skor: Wahrsagun-
gen im Himmel und in Ling), 2 (yingxiong dans-
/leng/’khruns glih me-tog ra-ba: Geburt des Hel-
den), 4 (Freiung der Zhumu/aBrug-mo; von Wang
Xingxian nicht als eigenes Kapitel erwähnt, aber
als Teil des Monguor-Epos feststellbar in der An-
kündigung des Barden am Ende der unten folgen-
den Übersetzung), 5 (Ling yu Moguoibdud ’dul
oder bdud glih; Lings [d. h. Gesars] Kampf gegen
2 Zu Ähnlichkeiten mit einer von dem russischen Forscher
Potanin aufgezeichneten, “tangutischen” Gesar-Vorgeburts-
geschichte s. Reissig (1980: 46).
3 Reissig (1977: 287). Nach Yang Si hingegen hat Schröder
nicht etwa das gesamte Epos aufgezeichnet, sondern eben-
falls nur die Geburts- und Jugendgeschichte: “D[ominik]
Schröder hat etwa 12 000 Zeilen vom Anfang des Teils ‘die
Geburt des Helden’ aufgezeichnet. Was den Inhalt angeht, so
sind die Hauptsujets mit dem von mir nach dem Vortrag des
Li Shengquan aufgenommenen Teil ‘die Geburt des Helden’
im wesentlichen gleich” (1987: 30).
4 Wang Xingxian (1988: 22), vgl. dazu Richtsfeld (2004a:
104f.; 2004c: 240) sowie Yang Si (1987: 28).
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
das Dämonenreich), 6-9 (Kampf gegen die gelben
und weißen Hör [je zwei Kapitel]), 10 (Ling yu
Han dHrgya glih: China und Ling), 11 (Ling yu
Jiangguo/’iah glin; Kampf zwischen Ling und Ji-
ang/Jang) und 36 (anding sanjie/khams-gsum bde-
bkod: Der bejahrte Gesar übergibt den Thron an
seinen Nachfolger und kehrt in den Himmel zu-
rück). Das Gesar-Epos der Tibeter des die Mon-
guor weitläufig umgebenden östlichsten Teiles der
Provinz Qinghai, d. h., neben Huzhu, der Kreise
Guide (tib.: Trika/tri-ska), Tongren (Repkong/reb-
koh), Gonghe (Chabcha/chab-cha), Hualong (Bay-
an Khar/ba-yan mkhar) und Zeku/Zekog (Tsekok/
tse-khog), setzt sich dagegen aus 15 “Kapiteln” zu-
sammen (Nr. 1 bis 11, 28 [Lings Kampf gegen Da-
shicaiguo, “das Reichtümerland Tägik’VPersien],
29 [Ling und Dashiniu, “die Rinder von Tägik”;
nach Tong Jinhua bilden Nr. 28 und 29 ein zusam-
mengehörendes, Dashi caiguo oder Dashi niuguo/
stag-gzig nor-rdzoh betiteltes Kapitel], 34 [diyu jiu-
gt'/A-stag Iha-mo: Gesar rettet seine Frau aus der
Hölle] und 36) (Xu Guoqiong 1986: 41).
Zu Verbreitung und Tradierung des Epos be-
richtet Yang Enhong (1988: 3f.): “Vor 1949 war
die Gesariade im Monguor-Gebiet weit verbreitet.
Alle Personen im Alter von über 60 Jahren, die
ich getroffen habe, kannten sie. Entweder hatten
die Betreffenden selbst das Epos bei einem Sänger
gehört, oder konnten mit Gesar verbundene Land-
schaftssagen erzählen, ja sogar die Art und Wei-
se, in der die Barden der entsprechenden Gegen-
den einst vortrugen, konnten die Befragten noch
schildern. So erzählte mir der 83 Jahre alte Mon-
guor Qi De aus dem Dorf Xiaosi nahe der Ort-
schaft Weiyuanzhen; ‘Vor 1949 habe ich zahlrei-
che Sänger den Gesar singen und erzählen hören,
unter ihnen haben mich insbesondere vier Barden
tief beeindruckt; Xuanba aus dem Dorf Xianghei
(Xiangheizhuang), Caifeng aus dem Weiler Na-
jia (Najiacun), ein Barde aus Tangla (den Namen
wusste er nicht mehr) und Qi Youhai aus Bazha-
Wie sich herausstellte, war Qi De selbst ein vor-
züglicher Sänger. Der Monguor-Künstler Li Sheng'
quan erzählte: ‘Vor 1949 war das Gesar-Epos n1
unserer Gegend sehr beliebt. Oft wurde eine ganze
Nacht hindurch gesungen und weder Sänger noch
Zuhörer wurden müde, ja manchmal harrte man
mehrere Tage und Nächte aus.’ Da die Monguor
über keine Schrift verfügen, musste sich der Sän-
ger dabei auf sein außergewöhnliches Gedächtnis
verlassen. Ein Monguor-Kader des Parteikomitees
des Kreises Huzhu berichtete: ‘Mein Vater konnte
nicht einmal rechnen, aber er kannte viele Teile des
Gesar-Epos. Es genügte, dass er jemanden zweimal
singen hörte, um anschließend dessen Gesang zU
101-2006
Anthropos
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
475
beherrschen.’ Sobald man in der Gebirgsregion im
Osten [dongshan] gegenüber Personen über Vier-
zig die beiden Sänger Gongbu und Danga erwähn-
te, begann ein nicht enden wollendes Erzählen: so
sehr hatten diese mit ihrem eindrucksvollen Vor-
trag die Zuhörer begeistert! Hinweise zahlreicher
betagter Personen und Gespräche mit noch leben-
den Sängern bestätigten gleichermaßen, dass das
Gesar-Epos in dieser Gegend allgemein bekannt
war, und wenn es auch nicht so eng wie Lob- und
Hochzeitsgesänge mit dem Alltag der Menschen
verbunden war, bezeugt die Verehrung des Gesar
bei den Monguor dennoch eindrucksvoll, dass das
Epos Teil ihres geistigen Lebens war.” (Vgl. dazu
Heissig 1980: 10.)
In dem 1988 erschienenen dritten Band der Rei-
he Gesa’r yanjiu (Gesar Studien)5 wurde eine von
dem von Schröder aufgezeichneten Epos abwei-
chende Variante der Geburtsepisode veröffentlicht
(S. 41-96), die im Juni 1986 von dem Monguor
Tenzin Gyatso6 gesungen und vorgetragen, von der
Polkloristin Yang Enhong aufgenommen und von
Li Youlou7 im September desselben Jahres ins Chi-
nesische übersetzt und sprachlich überarbeitet wur-
de. Diese “Episode von der Geburt und Jugend des
Gesar” wurde im tibetischen Pari-Dialekt (dpa-ris;
chin.; Huare; s. Hermanns 1952) gesungen und in
Monguor erklärt.8 Da der Übersetzer Li Youlou das
5 Herausgegeben von dem Leitenden Organisationsbüro für
Gesar-Studien in China am Institut für Minderheitenlite-
ratur der chinesischen Akademie für Gesellschaftswissen-
schaften (Zhongguo shehui kexueyuan shaoshu minzu wen-
xue yanjiusuo quanguo “Gesa’r” gongzuo lingdao xiaozu
bangongshi). Im Literaturverzeichnis unter Autorenkollektiv
aufgeführt.
b Bstan-’dzin rgya-mtsho; chinesische Transkription: Dan-
zeng Jiacuo; nach der in China üblichen, am Pinyin-System
orientierten Umschrift tibetischer Namen mit lateinischen
Buchstaben: Dainzin Gyaco (od.: Gyamco). Zur Umschrift
tibetischer Namen mittels chinesischer Schriftzeichen s.
Wang Gui (1991).
7 “Li Youlou ist gegenwärtig [1988] 58 Jahre alt, er ist Mon-
guor (Tu). Er war hauptamtlicher Kader in der Studienge-
sellschaft für Volksliteratur der Provinz Qinghai und lebt
nun im Ruhestand in dem Dorf Xiaosi, Gemeinde Yuanwei,
des Autonomen Monguor-Kreises Huzhu” (Autorenkollek-
tiv 1988: 95 f.). Siehe eine weitere Zusammenfassung der
Angaben in Yang Enhong (1988: 10ff.).
Ygl. dazu Yang Si (1987). - Wie Yang Enhong weisen auch
Weitere chinesische Gelehrte darauf hin, dass bei den Mon-
guor das Epos auf Tibetisch vorgetragen und anschließend
ln Monguor erklärt wurde, weshalb man nicht wie Schröder
v°n einem monguorsprachigen Epos sprechen könne (z. B.
Yang Enhong 1988: 1, Anm. 1); vgl. Richtsfeld (2004a:
104, Anm. 34). Die unterschiedlichen Auffassungen in der
sprachlichen Zuordnung des Epos bedingen, dass Schröder
und Heissig stets das mongolische “Geser”, die chinesischen
Forscher hingegen das tibetische “Gesar” für die Wiederga-
be des Namens des Helden verwenden. Gemäß der chine-
Tibetische nicht beherrschte, übersetzte er den Text
der monguorsprachigen Inhaltsangabe. Diese Vari-
ante liefert durch den Vergleich mit dem entspre-
chenden, von Schröder aufgezeichneten und über-
setzten Teil wertvolle Aufschlüsse über die Variati-
on des Eposabschnitts bei Barden der Region Hu-
zhu, zudem werden durch die chinesische Ausgabe
auch jene Teile der Ereignisse um Gesars Geburt
und Jugend bekannt, die Schröder nicht mehr über-
setzen konnte.
In der folgenden Übersetzung des von Ten-
zin Gyatso vorgetragenen Eposabschnitts, den die
Monguor “Geburt des Gesar von Lang [gLang/
Glang/Glah]” bzw. “Geburt des Helden” nennen,
sind bei der ersten Erwähnung den chinesischen
Transkriptionen der Personennamen die entspre-
chenden Namen nach Schröder in eckigen Klam-
mern beigefügt.9 In den Anmerkungen und in Ka-
pitel 3 des Beitrages werden folgende Kürzel für
die Epos-Varianten verwendet: El für das Epos des
Guänbo-sdzia, E2 für das des Tenzin Gyatso. Die
Zwischenüberschriften der deutschen Übersetzung
finden sich nicht in der chinesischen Vorlage, sie
wurden in der Absicht eingefügt, den Text über-
sichtlicher zu gliedern. Weitere, dem Verständnis
dienende Ergänzungen stehen in der Übersetzung
zwischen eckigen Klammem.
2 Übersetzung
2.1 Ake Chaotong greift nach der Herrscherwürde
von Ling
Nachdem Aluo Chagan [Hamluo Siergän/Hamluo-
tsärgän/Hamluo-hsiergän], der [spätere] altehrwür-
dige König des Reiches Ling (tib.: gLin; mong.:
Glang, gLan), den Königsthron von Ling bestiegen
hatte, wurde in diesem Reiche der Ackermann vom
Wetter begünstigt, die Bevölkerung nahm stetig zu,
die Rinder- und Schafherden wurden immer zahl-
reicher, Wohlstand und Friede herrschten im Land
und die Untertanen lebten und schafften glücklich
und zufrieden. Als nun Aluo Chagan mehr als 100
Jahre alt geworden war, schwanden seine Kräfte.10
Er gedachte die Zeit des Friedens zu nützen, um
sischen Vorlage wird in diesem Beitrag in der Übersetzung
stets die tibetische Namensform verwendet.
9 Weitere Transkriptionen der Namen s. in Yang Si (1987:
30f.).
10 Hinweis auf die Einheit von Kraft und Gesundheit des Kö-
nigs mit dem Wohl des Landes. Parallelen in den Vorstellun-
gen vom Sakralen Königtum vgl. z. B. in Hecht (1965). - In
der schröderschen Variante ist Hamluo 999 Jahre alt (Heissig
1980: 399, 421).
Anth
lroPos 101.2006
476
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
einen geeigneten Nachfolger zu suchen und ihm
den Thron zu übergeben, denn er wollte sich als
Einsiedler zurückziehen und erholen und sich sei-
ner alten Tage freuen. Eines Morgens rief er nach
dem Morgenmahl seinen Sohn Tuorang Wugu zu
sich und sprach zu ihm; “Mein Sohn Tuorang Wu-
gu, dein alter Vater hat dich in einer wichtigen An-
gelegenheit kommen lassen. Blase dreimal das nur
in Ausnahmefällen zu blasende Meeresschnecken-
horn11, schlage dreimal die nur in Ausnahmefällen
zu schlagende Gesetzestrommel \fagu] und entrolle
dreimal das nur in Ausnahmefällen aufzuhängen-
de Thangka. Ich will die zivilen und militärischen
Würdenträger von Chawu Lang12 zusammenrufen
und mich mit ihnen in einer wichtigen Reichssa-
che beraten. Es bedarf keiner besonderen Einla-
dung: Sobald sie das Schneckenhorn und die Ge-
setzestrommel hören sowie das Buddhabildnis des
Thangkas erblicken, werden sie von selbst kom-
men!”
Tuorang Wugu tat, wie sein Vater, der König
Aluo Chagan, ihn geheißen hatte und blies drei-
mal das nur in Ausnahmefällen zu blasende Mee-
resschneckenhom, schlug dreimal die nur in Aus-
nahmefällen zu rührende Gesetzestrommel und
entrollte das nur in Ausnahmefällen aufzuhängende
Thangka. Als die zivilen und militärischen Wür-
denträger von Chawu Lang - Gongpang Marilie
[Kanban mar(i)län], Jiase Xiaga’r [Siedzi siergän]
und Shaxiang Danrima13 - den Ruf des Schnecken-
horns und das Dröhnen der Gesetzestrommel ver-
nahmen, kamen sie mit goldfarbenen Khadaks her-
beigeeilt. Vor dem Lianzhengkang [Sitzungssaal/
Beratungshalle des Chagan] stiegen sie vom Pferd
und eilten nach dreimaligem Kotau am Haupttor
in die Halle, wo sie Aluo Chagan empfing. Aluo
Chagan saß auf seinem goldenen Thron und erwar-
tete sie.
Gongpang Marilie, Jiase Xiaga’r und Shaxiang
Danrima, die zivilen und militärischen Würdenträ-
ger, grüßten König Aluo Chagan und überreichten
11 Pingchang bu chui de hailuo: “das für gewöhnlich nicht ge-
blasene Meeresschneckenhorn”; Heissig; “Die [sonst] nicht
geblasene Trompete” etc. (1980: 55). - Vgl. zu der folgen-
den Formel vom Zusammenrufen des Volkes durch Blasen
von Hömem und Schlagen von Trommeln Heissig (1980:
52-55). Die Trommel ist u. a. Zeichen der Häuptlingswür-
de, mit deren Hilfe die Gefolgsleute zur Versammlung ge-
rufen werden, s. Hermanns (1965; 426, 467, 896, Anm. 34)
sowie Richtsfeld (2002: 215 f., Anm. 45).
12 Hermanns (1965:486): aDzam-gling; Heissig (1980:386,
414): tsawu-gLah, Tschawu-Glah, Tsawu Glang.
13 In El heißt der dritte Würdenträger Naxu dondi (ndondogdi)
(Heissig 1980: 394f., 419), obige chinesische Transkription
passt jedoch eher zu Sasin Dadma, einem weiteren Kind der
drei Töchter des Himmelsherm (Heissig 1980: 396, 420).
ihre Khadaks, worauf Gongpang Marilie das Wort
ergriff; “Großkönig Chagan, wir haben den Ruf des
nur in Ausnahmefällen zu blasenden Schnecken-
homs vernommen, wir haben das Dröhnen der nur
in Ausnahmefällen zu schlagenden Gesetzestrom-
mel vernommen und das Buddhabildnis des nur in
Ausnahmefällen aufzuhängenden Thangkas gese-
hen. Wir nehmen an, Ihr habt eine wichtige Reichs-
sache zu besprechen?”
Nach diesen Worten des Gongpang Marilie er-
klärte Aluo Chagan feierlich: “So ist es! Es gibt
eine wichtige Reichssache zu besprechen! Ihr drei
seid die führenden Würdenträger von Chawu Lang
und wenn man Chawu Lang mit einem Kochkessel
vergleicht, so seid ihr seine drei Herdsteine. Ich
habe euch gerufen, um mit euch die wichtige An-
gelegenheit meiner Nachfolge zu beraten. Wie ihr
wisst, herrsche ich bereits viele Jahre über Cha-
wu Lang. Nun bin ich alt und meine Kräfte ha-
ben nachgelassen. Wer König ist, sollte 100 Meilen
weit sehen können, ich aber sehe nicht einmal mehr
10 Meilen weit. Mein Haar ist wie das Fell eines
weißen Lämmchens, meine Augen gleichen Vogel-
nestern und mein Mund gleicht einer Felsenhöhle.
Ich habe nicht mehr die Kraft, über Chawu Lang
zu herrschen!14 Ich möchte euch bitten, bald einen
Nachfolger vorzuschlagen, dem ich die Königswür-
de übergeben kann. Lasst mich Einsiedler werden
und Ruhe finden!”
Nachdem Gongpang Marilie die Worte des Kö-
nigs Chagan vernommen hatte, sprach er: “Groß-
könig Chagan, seit Ihr den Thron von Chawu Lang
bestiegen habt, ist es infolge Eures Glück verhei-
ßenden Schicksals weder zu Zwist im Innern noch
zu Angriffen fremder Reiche gekommen! Die Be-
wohner unseres Landes sowie unsere Rinder- und
Schafherden nehmen stetig zu und gedeihen, die
Untertanen haben Nahrung und Kleidung und füh-
ren ein friedvolles und glückliches Leben. Es sind
dies unbeschwerte Jahre, in denen die Menschen
auf Butter und Rahm ausgleiten! Falls ein fremdes
Reich uns angreift, werden wir ihm mit Waffenge-
walt entgegentreten und die Feinde aus dem Lande
jagen. Sollte es im Innern zu Unruhen kommen,
werden wir die Unruhestifter dank der richtigen
Grundsätze überreden, den Streit zu beenden. Wenn
Ihr nun auf die Königswürde verzichten wollt, so
wagen wir unter gar keinen Umständen, dem statt-
zugeben. Wir sind der Meinung, dass Ihr vorschnell
handelt: Wer könnte Euch ersetzen und den Kö-
nigsthron übernehmen?” Nach diesen Worten zeig'
te er auf Jiase Xiaga’r und Shaxiang Danrima und
14 In El wird dieselbe Formel verwendet, wenn auch ausführ'
lieber (Heissig 1980: 399, 421).
Anthropos 101 -2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
All
erklärte: “Meine Worte waren freimütig und offen.
Jiase Xiaga’r und Shaxiang Danma, meine Brüder,
sagt, habe ich recht gesprochen oder nicht?”
Jiase Xiaga’r antwortete; “Du hast Recht, älterer
Bruder Gongpang Marilie: Chawu Lang verdankt
es einzig und allein dem günstigen Schicksal des
Großkönigs Chagan, dass es zur Zeit segensreiche
Jahre erlebt, in denen die Menschen auf Butter
und Sahne ausgleiten. Wenn nun der Großkönig
abzudanken wünscht, können wir dem keinesfalls
zustimmen!” Shaxiang Danma war der jüngste
der Würdenträger und verfügte über eine außerge-
wöhnliche Begabung in den Kampfkünsten. Aluo
Chagan, Gongpang Marilie und Jiase Xiaga’r
schätzten ihn sehr. Dieser Shaxiang Danma sprach:
“Die beiden älteren Brüder haben nur allzu Recht!
Es ist dem Glück verheißenden Schicksal des Groß-
königs Chagan zu danken, dass zur Zeit Ruhe und
Frieden in Chawu Lang herrschen und es Nahrung
und Kleidung gibt. Solltet Ihr weiterhin in Frieden
auf dem Königsthron sitzen wollen, werden wir
drei Euch eine Stütze sein, ganz so, wie die grünen
Blätter die Pfingstrose stützen. So wie eine Rüs-
tung den Körper schützt, werden wir Euch schüt-
zen. Sollten äußere Feinde einen Angriff wagen,
Werden wir alles daransetzen, sie mit Waffengewalt
zu überwältigen. Wenn im Innern Unruhen ausbre-
chen, werden wir die Aufrührer mit Hilfe der rich-
tigen Grundsätze überzeugen und beruhigen. Aber
wir können auf gar keinen Fall zulassen, dass Ihr,
großer Herrscher Chagan, auf den Thron des Kö-
nigs verzichtet!”
Nachdem Gongpang Malie, Jiase Xiaga’r und
Shaxiang Danma solcherart gesprochen hatten, ver-
abschiedeten sie sich und jeder kehrte auf seinen
Wachposten und in sein Lehen zurück.
Bald danach kam Ake Chaotong15 zu dem Groß-
könig Aluo Chagan geeilt und sprach voll Anteil-
nahme zu ihm: “Ich hörte den Ruf des nur in Aus-
ttahrnefällen zu blasenden Meeresschneckenhoms,
lch hörte das Dröhnen der nur in Ausnahmefäl-
zu schlagenden Gesetzestrommel und sah das
^uddhabildnis des nur in Ausnahmefällen aufzu-
hängenden Thangkas. Ich dachte, dass in Chawu
Fang bestimmt etwas Wichtiges geschehen war,
^cshalb ich keine Ruhe fand und zur Audienz
eim Großkönig eilte. Ich habe gehört, dass der
^roßkönig über seine Nachfolge nachdenkt, dass
z-ur Charakteristik des Aka Tsidong/Ake Chaotong/Cotong,
des Gegenspielers des Gesar s. Heissig (1980: 29, 398, 420;
1983: 245-261): Die Beschreibung in El deutet an, dass mit
ihm die “bösen” Eigenschaften in die Menschenwelt kamen.
In der von Hermanns übersetzten Amdo-Version wird Khro-
thung stag als “von geringer Vornehmheit, furchtsam und
leidenschaftlich” geschildert.
er dem Thron entsagen und sich zurückziehen will.
Nun weiß ich nicht, wen Ihr als Nachfolger im
Sinn habt? Ich zähle zu den altgedienten Wür-
denträgern von Chawu Lang und nach Divination
des Wahrsagers Tarang Zengpai [Sdagron sampä-
la/Sdagrong-Sämpäläj am Fuße des Diamantberges
bin ich geeignet, die Reichsangelegenheiten von
Chawu Lang zu leiten. Daher denke ich, dass es
nicht schwer wäre für mich, bei meiner Erfahrung
und meinen Fähigkeiten Chawu Lang drei Jahre
lang zu regieren. Ich schlage deshalb vor, dass ge-
mäß der Generationsfolge die Königswürde von
Chawu Lang auf mich übergeht, und auch aufgrund
meines Alters der Thron von Chawu Lang mir zu-
fällt. Falls der Großkönig mir nicht glaubt, möge
er zu dem berühmten Wahrsager Tarang Zengpai
am Fuß des Diamantberges schicken und ein Orakel
erstellen lassen.”
Chaotong hatte schon zuvor mit List die Über-
nahme des Thrones vorbereitet. Eilends hatte er sei-
nen Sohn Qijia Rangmou mit Ohrringen aus reinem
Gold zu Tarang Zengpai geschickt und ihm auf-
getragen, dem Seher Folgendes zu sagen: “Wenn
ein Bote des Großkönigs Chagan kommt, damit du
durch ein Orakel seinen Nachfolger bestimmst, so
sage, dass Chaotong die Reichsgeschäfte von Cha-
wu Lang zu führen vermag. Sprich so, auch wenn
das Los das Gegenteil besagt! Als Dank überbringe
ich dir Ohrringe aus reinem Gold, zudem wird von
nun an mein Vater für deine Nahrung, deine Klei-
dung und Unterkunft sowie für alles Übrige sorgen.
Und wenn es künftig wichtige Angelegenheiten zu
regeln gibt, wird er auf dich zurückkommen!”
Als Tuorang Wugu, der Sohn des Aluo Chagan,
zu Tarang Zengpai kam und ihn um ein Orakel bat,
antwortete dieser so, wie Chaotong ihn geheißen
hatte. Infolgedessen ging der goldene Thron von
Chawu Lang auf Ake Chaotong über.
Nachdem Ake Chaotong den Thron von Chawu
Lang bestiegen hatte, zahlte er Chizan [Tzewdzal,
Tsedzäe], dem Herrscher der Dämonen, sowie dem
Herrscher der weißen und dem der schwarzen Zelte
von Huo’r [Hör] Abgaben und entrichtete Tribut,
um ihre tatkräftige Unterstützung zu erhalten. In
früheren Tagen hatten diese Herrscher dem Reich
Chawu Lang Tribut gezahlt. Nachdem aber Ake
Chaotong König geworden war, entrichtete er dem
Chizan, dem Herrn über das Reich der Dämonen
[Ut/Bdud], und dem Herrscher der weißen und dem
der schwarzen Zelte von Huo’r Tribut. Innerhalb
von drei Jahren war alles Gold und Silber, wa-
ren alle Reichtümer von Chawu Lang sowie seine
Pferde-, Rinder-, Schaf- und Ziegenherden an diese
Reiche vergeben, so dass die Speicher von Chawu
Lang leer und ausgeräumt waren, und die Unterta-
Vnh
lropos 101.2006
478
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
nen weder Nahrung noch Kleidung hatten, Hunger
und Not litten und nicht wussten, wie sie sich über
Wasser halten sollten: Nicht wenige aßen Wurzeln,
um zu überleben!
Auf dem Gipfel des Berges Ranguo Xiumei er-
hob sich ein riesiges Obo, zu dem die Bewohner
von Chawu Lang an jedem 1. und 15. Tag des
Monats hinaufstiegen und opferten. Man brachte
Rauchopfer16 dar, warf sich nieder und betete zu
Shidanglaqian [Schdenglatsien/Sdehlatsien Sang],
Warinianqian [Warintsien] und Xiulu Rijian [Sema
Lordzienj in den Gefilden der Unsterblichen: “Cha-
wu Lang verfügt über keinen Herrn, bitte schickt so
schnell wie möglich jemanden herab in die Welt der
Sterblichen, der die Not und Elend leidende Bevöl-
kerung von Chawu Lang rettet.” Die dem Obo op-
fernde Bevölkerung beriet sich: Als Aluo Chagan
König gewesen war, blühte das Reich Chawu Lang,
seinen Bewohnern ging es gut, sie hatten Kleidung
und Nahrung und es waren Jahre, in denen man
in Butter und Rahm ausrutschte. Als aber König
Chagan alt und senil geworden war, überließ er
die Königs würde dem treulosen Würdenträger Ake
Chaotong. Um die Unterstützung der benachbarten
Reiche zu erhalten, kehrte dieser, nachdem er fest
auf dem Thron saß, das frühere Verhältnis um: Er
zahlte Chizan, dem Herrscher des Dämonenreiches,
sowie dem Herrscher über die weißen und dem über
die schwarzen Zelte von Huo’r Tribut und plünderte
die Untertanen aus, so dass sie arm und bedürftig
wurden und nichts mehr zu essen und anzuziehen
hatten. Weiß denn König Aluo Chagan nicht, wie
es um Chawu Lang steht?
Wie es der Zufall wollte, stieg in jenen Tagen
auch Tuorang Wugu auf den Gipfel des Ranguo
Xiumei und opferte dem Obo, wo er klar und deut-
lich diese Klagen vernahm. Zurückgekehrt erzählte
er dem altehrwürdigen König Aluo Chagan: “Mein
Vater, altehrwürdiger Chagan! Heute bin ich auf
den Gipfel des Ranguo Xiumei gestiegen, um dort
am Obo zu opfern. Ich hörte, wie diejenigen, die
am Obo opferten, zu Shidanglaqian, zu Warinian-
qian und zu Xiulu Rijian in den Gefilden der Un-
sterblichen beteten und sie baten, einen der ihrigen
auf die Erde herabzusenden, damit er die Armut
und Not leidende Bevölkerung von Chawu Lang
rette. Außerdem sprachen sie; ‘Als der altehrwür-
dige Herrscher Aluo Chagan auf dem Thron saß,
ging es dem Reich Chawu Lang und seinen Ein-
wohnern gut, es war eine Zeit, in der die Men-
16 Weisung; Die Aussprache des Wortes in Sining s. in Li
Rong und Zhang Chengcai (1994: 115). Das Opfer beschrei-
ben Schröder (1952-53:43-49, 222-225) sowie Schram
(1957: 95, Anm. 2).
sehen in Butter und Sahne ausrutschten. Als aber
der altehrwürdige König Aluo Chagan senil wur-
de, überließ er die Königswürde dem verräterischen
Würdenträger Ake Chaotong. Um die Unterstüt-
zung seiner Nachbarn zu erhalten, hat Ake Chao-
tong, nachdem er fest auf dem Thron saß, die al-
ten Verhältnisse umgekehrt und zahlt an Chizan,
den Herrscher des Reiches der Dämonen, sowie an
die Herrscher über die weißen und die schwarzen
Zelte von Huo’r Tribut; er plündert die Unterta-
nen aus, weshalb sie weder Kleidung noch Nah-
rung haben.’ Zudem ist zu hören: ‘Hat der alt-
ehrwürdige Herrscher Aluo Chagan denn Kunde
davon, dass in Chawu Lang derartige Zustände
herrschen? Weiß denn der altehrwürdige Herrscher
Chagan nicht, wie viele Menschen umgekommen
sind?”’
Als der altehrwürdige Herrscher Aluo Chagan
Tuorang Wugu so reden hörte, wollte er das anfangs
nicht glauben, nach und nach aber glaubte er ihm.
Um herauszufinden, ob die Untertanen die Wahr-
heit sagten, trug er Tuorang Wugu auf: “Morgen
ist der 6. Tag des 6. Monats. Es ist der herkömm-
liche Tag des Pferderennens in Chawu Lang. Steig
auf den Berg Ranguo Xiumei und sieh nach dem
großen Obo der Flußaue17 von Haxiu. Falls das
Pferderennen wie üblich stattfindet, bedeutet das,
dass es mit dem Gerede der Leute nichts auf sich
hat. Findet es aber nicht statt, so heißt das, dass
die Untertanen recht haben. Ich will, dass du mir
über alles, was du siehst, wahrheitsgemäß Bericht
erstattest!”
Das herkömmliche Pferderennen am 6. Tag des
6. Monats war ein bedeutendes Fest für Chawu
Lang, an dem seit wer weiß wie vielen Jahren un-
verbrüchlich festgehalten wurde. Das Fest zeigte,
ob Ruhe und Frieden in Chawu Lang herrschten,
wie es um die Ernte stand und wie es den Be-
wohnern ging, und so glich es dem Danma-Fest.
Stets fanden ein Rennen von 1 000 Pferden und ein
Wettlauf von ungefähr 1 000 Teilnehmern statt. Die
Sieger bekamen als Preis rote Schärpen umgehängt
und dazu Chinawurzeltee \fucha] und andere Nah-
rungsmittel geschenkt. Auf dem Fest versammelten
sich Tausende und Abertausende Teilnehmer, diu
wahrhaft einem aus Menschen bestehenden Mee-
re glichen! Die Zelte lagen so dicht nebeneinander
wie die Kiesel einer Sandbank.
Der Berg Ranguo Xiumei war der höchste Berg
von Chawu Lang, die Aue von Haxiu war die wei'
17 Tan: Stromschnelle, Sandbank. Nach Li Rong und Zhang
Chengcai “von Bergen begrenztes ebenes Land zu beiden
Seiten eines Flusses” (1994: 136); zur Aussprache des Wot'
tes in der Region Sining s. ebda.
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
479
teste Au in Chawu Lang. Blickte man vom Gipfel
des Ranguo Xiumei auf die Ebene von Haxiu, so
konnte man sie von dort oben in ihrer ganzen Weite
Überblicken.
Im ersten Licht des Morgens des 6. Tages des
6. Monats stieg Tuorang Wugu gemäß der Weisung
seines Vaters, des Königs Aluo Chagan, auf den
Berg Ranguo Xiumei und blickte nach der Ebene
von Haxiu. Er blickte umher und hielt lange Zeit
Ausschau, konnte jedoch nur einen über 70 Jahre
alten Mann mit silbergrauem Bart und Haar erken-
nen, der mit trockenem Pferdemist Feuer machte,
von dem gewöhnlicher, nicht zu großer und nicht
zu kleiner Rauch aufstieg. Der Alte ritt ein jun-
ges, kaum dreijähriges Pferd, das noch an keinem
Wettrennen teilnehmen konnte. Der Alte trieb es
mit einer Lederpeitsche an, ließ es zum Obo lau-
fen und diesen dreimal umrunden. Der Alte hielt
dies für ein glückverheißendes Zeichen. Er war
der Meinung, dass es nicht von Vorteil wäre, dem
Brauch des Pferderennens nicht mehr zu folgen.
Weiter aber tat sich nichts in der Au von Haxiu,
mir der Wind wirbelte wie üblich Staubschwaden
auf. Tuorang Wugu wurde bei diesem trostlosen
Anblick weh ums Herz.
Er kehrte nach Hause zurück und erzählte sei-
uem Vater, dem altehrwürdigen König Aluo Cha-
gan, wahrheitsgemäß was er hatte sehen müssen.
Bann erklärte er: “Die Wettrennen der 1 000 Traber
Und der 1 000 Läufer, von denen du sprachst, finden
mcht mehr statt! Außer sich kräuselnden Staub-
Schwaden war nichts zu sehen, schon gar keine Zel-
te, Menschen und Pferde!”
Bei dem Bericht seines Sohnes Tuorang Wugu
erwachte Aluo Chagan wie aus einem Traum. Ihm
teurde klar, dass seine Untertanen recht gehabt hat-
ten, und bereute, die Königswürde auf Ake Chao-
tong übertragen zu haben. Aber welchen Sinn hatte
Seine Reue nun, da es so weit gekommen war? Er
Sollte die Gelegenheit nutzen und auf ein Mittel
smnen, das Volk zu retten! Denn was Chaotong
angerichtet hatte, erzürnte ihn bis ins Mark! Er
Setzte sich auf sein nur in besonderen Fällen zu
reitendes Pferd, hängte sich den nur in besonde-
ren Fällen zu schulternden Bogen und die nur in
besonderen Fällen zu schulternden Pfeile um, griff
^lch seine nur in besonderen Fällen mitzunehmende
Schleuder [pao‘rsheng, “Kanonenseil”], rief seinen
nur in besonderen Fällen mitzunehmenden Hund
ünd bereitete sich darauf vor, die Gefilde der Un-
sterblichen im Himmel zu betreten. Er wollte die
jmrnmelsgötter bitten, einen Herrscher nach Chawu
ang zu senden, der in der Lage war, die Not und
mbehrung leidenden Untertanen zu retten.
2.2 Das Vorspiel im Himmel
Als Aluo Chagan aufbrechen wollte, eilte Ake
Chaotong herbei und fragte den altehrwürdigen
Herrscher: “Ihr reitet das nur in besonderen Fäl-
len zu reitende Pferd, führt den nur in besonderen
Fällen zu schulternden Bogen und die nur in be-
sonderen Fällen zu schulternden Pfeile mit Euch,
nehmt die nur in besonderen Fällen mitzunehmen-
de Schleuder mit und habt den nur in besonderen
Fällen mitzuführenden Hund dabei. Es sieht so aus,
als wolltet Ihr eine weite Reise unternehmen. Darf
ich den Anlass und das Ziel Eures Rittes erfahren?”
Als Aluo Chagan die Worte des Ake Chaotong
hörte, packte ihn jähe Wut. Entsprechend antwor-
tete er: “Ich weiß nun, welche Sorte Herrscher du
bist, wie du Chawu Lang mit Füßen trittst! Ich
weiß nun, wie du deine Untertanen sekkierst und
drückst! Ich werde mich deshalb zu Shidanglaqian
in den Himmel, in die Gefilde der Unsterblichen,
begeben, damit er einen der Götter als Herrscher
herab sendet, der die von dir mit Füßen getrete-
nen Menschen rettet! Du geh und schütze deine
Stadt Emuyinkuan. Was kümmert’s dich, wohin ich
reite!”
Dreist antwortete ihm Ake Chaotong; “Wenn
Ihr zu den Gefilden der Unsterblichen im Himmel
reitet, werde ich Euch selbstverständlich begleiten!
Wenn ich nicht zu Großem fähig bin, werde ich
wohl in der Lage sein, für Euch die drei Herdsteine
zu tragen, Wasser zu holen und Tee zu kochen!”
Aluo Chagan raunzte: “Ich will nicht, dass du
mit mir kommst! Geh, sei dein König und hüte
deine Stadt!”
Ake Chaotong aber beharrte darauf, den altehr-
würdigen König Aluo Chagan in das Himmelsreich
der Unsterblichen zu begleiten. Aluo Chagan wur-
de es zu dumm: “Du kannst mich begleiten, aber
wenn ich dir befehle umzukehren, dann hast du
meinem Befehl Folge zu leisten!” Ake Chaotong
stimmte dem gezwungenermaßen zu.
Aluo Chagan brach auf. Ihm folgte nunmehr
außer seinem nur in besonderen Fällen mitzufüh-
renden Hund auch Ake Chaotong. Dieser hob un-
terwegs beflissen Steine auf, stellte den Kochkes-
sel darauf, schöpfte Wasser, kochte Tee und tat
so, als würde er aufrichtigen Sinnes Aluo Chagan
auf seiner Reise ins Reich der Unsterblichen un-
terstützen. Bald erreichten sie die Grenze zwischen
Himmel und Erde. Sie rasteten, kochten Tee und
aßen. Dann sprach Aluo Chagan zu Ake Chaotong;
“Du hast dein Bestes gegeben, mir aufzuwarten: Du
brachtest Steine, hast den Kessel aufgesetzt, Tee
gekocht und das Essen zubereitet. Nun aber kannst
du mir nicht länger folgen, denn vor uns liegt das
^nth
‘ropos 101.2006
480
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
Reich der Unsterblichen der himmlischen Gefilde
und die Sturmwinde werden dich hindern weiterzu-
wandem. Wenn du mir nicht glaubst, so versuche es
mal mit deiner Pferdepeitsche!”
Ake Chaotong schlug mit der Peitsche, worauf
ein Knall zu hören war und der Sturmwind die
Peitsche zerbrach. Ake Chaotong riss die Augen
auf und fand nicht den Mut weiterzugehen. Der
altehrwürdige König Aluo Chagan sprach: “Nun,
wenn dir dein Leben lieb ist, so bleib zurück!” Ake
Chaotong hatte Angst und wagte sich nicht weiter.
Aluo Chagan fuhr fort: “Als ich aufbrach, hast du
mir geholfen, indem du Steine eingesammelt und
den Kochtopf aufgesetzt, Wasser geholt und Tee
gekocht hast. Du hast mir zuverlässig aufgewar-
tet. Jetzt solltest du aber umkehren! Kehre in dein
Emuyinkuan zurück! Spätestens in einem Jahr wird
deine Regentschaft zu Ende sein, werden deine Un-
taten ein Ende haben.” Ake Chaotong kehrte zurück
nach Chawu Lang und war von da an bestrebt, seine
Untertanen nach allen Regeln der Kunst auszupres-
sen, weshalb Not und Elend noch schlimmer wur-
den.
Der altehrwürdige König Aluo Chagan ritt auf
dem Pferd Jinjinguo, führte den Hund Qimo Niyu
und hielt den Dayu und die Jinjiang [Namen des
Bogens und der Pfeile] in der Hand: So stieg er zu
den Gefilden der Himmlischen hinan. Er ritt so lan-
ge, bis vor ihm ein goldglänzender Palast auftauch-
te: der Götterpalast des Shidanglaqian. Auf einem
Erdhaufen vor dem Palast spielte ein dreijähriges
Knäblein.18 Als Aluo Chagan das Knäblein sah,
freute er sich und sang:
Ich bin der alte König von Chawu Lang in der irdischen
Welt,
Aluo Chagan ist mein Name,
ich bin in diesen, mir sehr fremden Himmel gekommen.
Du Mitleid erweckendes [kexi] und reizendes Kindlein,
nicht weiß ich, wessen Sohn du bist?
Als das Kind den unbekannten Greis aus der ir-
dischen Welt erblickte, staunte und freute es sich
zugleich und sang:
Betagter Herr, woher du auch kommst,
du lässt mich erstaunen.
Ich kenne dich nicht,
aber ich freue mich sehr, dich heute zu sehen!
Woher kommst du?
Und wohin willst du?
Wenn du fragst, wessen Sohn ich bin,
aus welchem Grund tust du dies?
18 Zu dem Motiv des Dreijährigen in der mongolischen Erzähl-
tradition s. Reissig (1980; 51 f.; 1983: 304-306).
Dieses Kind war Shidanglaqians dritter Sohn na-
mens Gama Dongzhu19. Aluo Chagan antworte-
te: “Ich komme aus Chawu Lang. Ich bin Aluo
Chagan, der frühere König von Chawu Lang. Ich
bin in das Reich der Unsterblichen im Himmel ge-
kommen, um bei Shidanglaqian, Warinianqian und
Xiulu Rijian vorzusprechen. Ich will eine wichtige
Sache mit ihnen besprechen.”
Gama Dongzhu überlegte; “Dieser bejahrte Herr
hat nach kaum drei Sätzen gefragt, wessen Sohn
ich wäre? In welcher Angelegenheit will er meinen
Vater und meine Onkel20 sprechen?” Er sang:
Shidanglaqian ist mein Vater,
Warinianqian ist mein Onkel,
auch Xiulu Rijian ist mein Onkel.
In welcher Angelegenheit willst du sie sprechen?
Aufrichtig fragt man, um eine ehrliche Antwort zu erhal-
ten.
Wer nicht ehrlich antwortet, lädt große Schuld auf sich!
Aluo Chagan sang:
Aufrichtig fragt man, um eine ehrliche Antwort zu erhal-
ten.
Wer nicht ehrlich antwortet, lädt große Schuld auf sich!
Wie viele Söhne hat Laqian
und wie lauten ihre Namen?
Gama Dongzhu antwortete:
Du hast mich aufrichtig gefragt, damit ich ehrlich ant-
worte.
Antworte ich nicht ehrlich, lade ich Schuld auf mich!
Shidanglaqian hat drei Söhne,
Nima Dongzhu ist mein ältester Bruder,
Dawa Dongzhu mein Zweitältester Bruder
und ich bin Gama Dongzhu.
Mein Vater meditiert,
es wird nicht einfach sein für dich, bei ihm vorzuspre-
chen.
Aluo Chagan fragte weiter:
Du bist ohne Zweifel Laqians Sohn,
meditiert dein Vater für Jahre, Monate oder Tage?
Meditiert er für Jahre, wie viele Jahre meditiert er dann ■
Und wann wird er damit fertig sein?
Meditiert er für Monate, wie viele Monate meditiert er
dann?
Und wann wird er damit fertig sein?
Meditiert er für Tage, wie viele Tage meditiert er dann?
Wann werde ich deinen Vater sprechen können?
Ganz gleich, ob er für Jahre, Monate oder Tage meditiert,
ich hoffe, Laqian sprechen zu können!
19 El: Sgerma Duändzew (Reissig 1980:431); nach Yang $>■
Duoma Dongzhu (1987:31). In Francke (1968:2) hat der
Sohn des Himmelsherm den Namen Dongrub, in Hermann5
(1965: 415) heißt er ebenfalls Don-agrub (dkar-po).
20 Chin.: shufu: jüngere Brüder des Vaters.
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
481
Gama Dongzhu sprach; “Wenn es sich um etwas
Wichtiges handelt, so ist es nicht schwer, von mei-
nem Vater empfangen zu werden. Bis zur Mittags-
stunde werde ich mir etwas einfallen lassen, damit
du bei ihm vorsprechen kannst.”
Zur Mittagszeit führte Gama Dongzhu den Aluo
Chagan vor Shidanglaqian. Aluo Chagan verneigte
sich kniefällig vor Shidanglaqian und sprach: “Ihr
sitzt in Meditation versunken, um den Lebewesen
Segen zu spenden. Es gereicht zum Guten, wenn
man etwas mit Sorgfalt ausführt! Die Bewohner
von Chawu Lang leiden Not und Elend; warum
schickt Ihr niemanden, der ihrem Leid ein Ende
bereitet? Ich bin gekommen, Euch zu bitten, je-
manden auf die Erde hinab zu senden, der der dar-
benden Bevölkerung von Chawu Lang Hilfe bringt.
Wie ich weiß, habt Ihr drei Söhne. Gebt mir einen
der Söhne, damit er in die irdische Welt hinabsteigt
und Herr von Chawu Lang wird. Er soll der Herr-
scher werden, der die Welt rettet. Wie denkt Ihr
darüber?”
Diese Worte gefielen dem Shidanglaqian gar
nicht und so antwortete er: “Alter Mann, du kommst
zu mir und hast noch keine drei Sätze gesprochen,
über schon gibst du Unangenehmes von dir und
redest nicht von Glück und Segen!” Shidanglaqian
unterstrich seine Rede mit Gesten:
b>er eine Sohn gleicht meinem Herzen,
der andere Sohn gleicht meinen Augen,
der dritte Sohn gleicht meinen Händen!
‘Man kann doch nicht ohne Herz, Augen oder
blande sein! Meine Söhne heißen Nima Dong-
zhu [Nima Duändzew], Dawa Dongzhu [Redawa/
Eedziawu Duändzew] und Gama Dongzhu [Sger-
dua Duändzew], sie gehören zusammen wie Sonne,
Mond und Sterne. Wenn du einen von ihnen mit-
Uunmst, sind Sonne, Mond und Sterne dann noch
beisammen?”
Er überlegte ein Weilchen und hub dann von
deuem an zu sprechen: “Warinianqian [Warintsien]
bat nur zwei Söhne, d. h. Sonne, Mond und Sterne
smd bei ihm nicht vollzählig. Wenn du von ihm ei-
den seiner Söhne forderst, so wird er dir vermutlich
einen geben!”
Verstimmt und niedergeschlagen verabschiedete
Slch Aluo Chagan von Shidanglaqian und schlurfte
Schweren Schrittes zu Warinianqian; dabei dachte
er daran, dass jemand mit zwei Söhnen bestimmt
doch weniger bereit war, auf einen seiner Söhne zu
Verzichten als jemand mit drei Söhnen! Aber sei’s
Wle’s sei, er wollte es trotzdem versuchen!
Er kam zu Warinianqian und sprach: “Ich bin in
on Himmel gekommen, weil ich gehört habe, dass
br zwei Söhne habt. Gebt mir einen von ihnen,
Vwhropos 101.2006
damit er nach Chawu Lang in die irdische Welt
hinabsteigt und der Erlöser wird, der die Not und
Elend leidende Bevölkerung rettet. Wie denkt Ihr
darüber?”
Warinianqian antwortete: “Alter Mann! Du
machst den Mund auf und hast noch keine drei
Sätze gesprochen, da redest du auch schon von
Unerquicklichem und nicht von Glück und Segen!
Shidanglaqian hat drei Söhne, an ihn aber hast
du dich nicht gewandt. Warum willst du von mir
einen Sohn, wo ich doch nur zwei habe?” “Bei
Shidanglaqian war ich schon”, erklärte Aluo Cha-
gan. “Er sagte, dass seine Söhne eine Einheit wie
Sonne, Mond und Sterne bilden. Gibt er einen ab,
so ist diese Einheit nicht mehr gewahrt. Er sagte,
Ihr hättet nur zwei Söhne und könntet einen ab-
geben.”
Warinianqian meinte dazu: “Nun gut! Wenn er
mir die Verantwortung zuschiebt, so will auch ich
entsprechend handeln. Ich habe nur Sonne und
Mond, aber keine Sterne. Xiu Lurijian [Sema Lor-
dzien] hat nur einen Sohn, es besteht somit keine
in irgendeiner Weise geartete Einheit. Frage doch
nach seinem Sohn, vielleicht gibt er ihn dir!” Wari-
nianqian war verärgert.
Erzürnt antwortete Aluo Chagan: “Von euch bei-
den erklärt derjenige mit drei Söhnen, dass sie wie
Sonne, Mond und Sterne zusammengehören, und
er keinen weggeben könne. Der mit zwei Söhne
behauptet, dass er lediglich Sonne und Mond habe,
nicht aber Sterne, und er deshalb keinen wegge-
ben könne. Ihr zwei redet euch doch nur heraus
und schickt mich zu Xiu Lurijian, um seinen ein-
zigen Sohn zu fordern! Derjenige von euch, der
drei Söhne hat, hat mir keinen gegeben, der, der
zwei Söhne hat, hat mir keinen gegeben, aber ihr
schickt mich zu dem, der nur einen Sohn hat,
damit ich ihn um diesen bitte! Nicht ihr, son-
dern andere sollen geben; was soll das, dass ihr
mich mit meiner Bitte von dem einen zum anderen
schickt?!”
Aluo Chagan verließ das Haus des Warinianqi-
an; er wurde immer wütender, je länger er nach-
dachte. In seiner Wut nahm er den Bogen von der
Schulter und zog einen Pfeil. Er spannte den Bogen
so sehr, dass dabei die Pfeilspitze dröhnend gegen
den Bogengriff stieß. Das Eisen dröhnte so laut,
dass der Schall bis in Shidanglaqians Meditations-
raum drang. Dort wirbelte der Staub des Zimmers
auf und senkte sich auf die Schalen mit reinem
Wasser herab. Shidanglaqian erschrak und befahl
seinem Gefolge, draußen nachzusehen. Dieses be-
richtete: “Aluo Chagan spannt seinen Bogen und
will das himmlische Land der Unsterblichen mit
Aufruhr überziehen!”
482
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
Shidanglaqian eilte aus seiner Klause und rief:
“König Aluo Chagan, begehrst du nicht einen Herr-
scher, der die Welt retten soll? Mäßige deinen Zorn,
nimm den Pfeil von der Sehne und lass uns die
Sache in Ruhe besprechen! Ich habe drei Söhne.
Ich gebe dir den, den du haben willst. Prüfe den
Nima Dongzhu, und wenn er dir gefällt, lasse ich
ihn ziehen. Prüfe Dawa Dongzhu, und wenn er dir
gefällt, lasse ich ihn ziehen. Prüfe Gama Dongzhu,
und wenn er dir gefällt, lasse ich ihn ziehen. Bist du
einverstanden?”
Shidanglaqian wiederholte mehrmals sein An-
gebot. Aluo Chagan nahm den Pfeil von der Seh-
ne und sprach: “Ich, Aluo Chagan, bin heute in
das himmlische Land der Unsterblichen gekom-
men. Das Gute war nicht geplant und das Geplante
nicht gut, ansonsten hätten die Erhabenen [shang-
ren] nicht im Geringsten gezögert. Ich habe den
Bogen gespannt, um euch, die Unsterblichen des
Himmels, aufzuscheuchen. Nun kommt Ihr, Shi-
danglaqian, ganz plötzlich aus Eurer Klause ge-
rannt und verkündet honigsüß, dass Ihr mir geben
wollt, was ich verlange. Leere Versprechungen aber
zählen nicht. Ich werde alle Eure Söhne auf dem
von mir mitgebrachten Pferd reiten und sie den von
mir mitgeführten Hund führen lassen. Sie sollen
den von mir mitgebrachten Helm aus Silber auf-
setzen und die von mir mitgebrachte Rüstung aus
Stahl anlegen. Sie sollen den von mir geschulter-
ten Bogen sowie die Pfeile und Waffen anlegen, in
Yirimeng Tang [Name einer Ebene] mehrere Run-
den damit drehen und zur Probe mit dem Bogen
schießen. Dann benenne ich den, der mir geeignet
erscheint!”
Shidanglaqian stimmte zu: “Lasuo! Lasuo!”
Sofort wurden Warinianqian, Xiulu Rijian sowie
Qiangqiang Tawei [Tsiöq tsien tariwasga; ältere
Schwester des Gama Dongzhu] u. a. gerufen und
Nima Dongzhu, Dawa Dongzhu und Gama Dong-
zhu sollten zur Probe die Rüstung anlegen, um zu
entscheiden, wer sich nach Chawu Lang zu bege-
ben habe.
Als erster war Nima Dongzhu, der älteste Sohn,
an der Reihe. Kaum steckte er in der Rüstung,
begann er heftig zu schwitzen. Es war, als würde
in einer Presse Öl aus Pflanzen gepresst, als würde
man auf grüne Gemüseblätter eine Hand voll Salz
streuen. Der Schweiß rann wie Wasser an seinem
Körper herab. Erschrocken rief Nima Dongzhu um
Hilfe:
Gütiger Vater,
gütige Mutter,
eilt und nehmt mir die Rüstung ab, nur so rettet ihr mein
Leben,
seid ihr säumig, so bleibt euch nur mein Leichnam!
Sofort löste Qiangqiang Tawei mit Helfern die Rüs-
tung und rettete Nima Dongzhu, dessen Gesicht
gelb wie Opferpapier war.
Aluo Chagan befahl Nima Dongzhu zurückzu-
treten und forderte Dawa Dongzhu auf, die Rüstung
anzulegen. Dawa Dongzhu bettelte:
Gütiger Vater,
Mutter, die du mich geboren hast!
Meine Mutter, die mich gesäugt und aufgezogen hat!
Konnte mein älterer Bruder die Rüstung nicht tragen,
werde auch ich sie nicht tragen können!
Rufe ich um Hilfe,
so nehmt sie mir bitte so schnell wie möglich ab,
damit ich nicht Schaden nehme!
Meine gnädige ältere Schwester,
wenn ich um Hilfe rufe,
nimm mir, so schnell du kannst, die Rüstung ab,
damit ich nicht Schaden nehme.
Mein gütiger älterer Bruder,
wenn ich um Hilfe rufe,
so nimm mir bitte die Rüstung ab,
damit ich keinen Schaden nehme.
Kaum hatte Dawa Dongzhu die Rüstung angelegt,
begann auch er heftig zu schwitzen. Es war, als
würde in der Ölpresse Öl aus Pflanzen gepresst,
als streue man eine Hand voll Salz auf grüne Ge-
müseblätter. Der Schweiß rann wie Wasser an sei-
nem Körper herab. Dawa Dongzhu rief entsetzt um
Hilfe:
Gütiger Vater,
gütige Mutter,
eilt und nehmt mir die Rüstung ab, auf dass ich am Leben
bleibe,
säumt nicht, sonst bleibt euch nur mein Leichnam!
Alle Umstehenden eilten, ihm die Rüstung abzu-
nehmen. Er nahm keinen Schaden, sah aber mitge-
nommen aus und war gelb wie Opferpapier.
Aluo Chagan forderte Dawa Dongzhu auf zu-
rückzutreten und befahl nun Gama Dongzhu, die
Rüstung anzulegen, das Pferd zu reiten und mit
Pfeil und Bogen zu schießen.
Alle waren sehr besorgt, da Gama Dongzhu
gerade erst sein drittes Lebensjahr vollendet hat-
te. Wenn schon seine beiden erwachsenen Brüder
aufgaben, wie konnte man dann einem dreijähri-
gen Kind diese Proben zumuten?! Gama Dongzhu
sprach:
Gütiger Vater,
gütige Mutter,
meine beiden älteren Brüder sind schon erwachsen,
ich, Gama Dongzhu, bin noch klein und zart.
Wenn sie beide die Rüstung nicht zu tragen vermochten,
wie dann ich?
Da nun die Probe sein muss;
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
483
Wenn ich den Harnisch nicht tragen kann und zum dritten
Mal um Hilfe rufe,
so schnallt mir, so schnell ihr könnt, den Hämisch ab.
Aber als Gama Dongzhu die Rüstung anlegte, blieb
er ungerührt und verspürte keine Beklemmung. Er
schulterte den Bogen Dayu und die Pfeile Jinjiang,
setzte sich auf das Pferd Jinjinguo und führte den
Hund Qimo Niyu, worauf er in Yirimeng Tang
drei Runden drehte. Der stählerne Harnisch und
der silberne Helm passten wie angegossen. Schnell
wie der Wind ritt er auf dem Pferd, er spannte den
Bogen, schoss nach dem Ziel und zeigte, was in
ihm steckte! Alle Zuschauer jubelten ihm zu und
ihre Bedenken waren zerstreut.
Gama Dongzhu saß ab und sprach:
Gütiger Vater,
gütige Mutter,
diese Rüstung vermag ich zu tragen,
sie ist mir wie das tägliche Gewand.
Wenn meine beiden älteren Brüder riefen, sie könnten sie
hicht tragen,
so täuschten sie’s nur vor.
Ha sie beide erwachsen sind,
Wissen sie, dass in der irdischen Welt viel Ungemach zu
ertragen ist!
ich, Gama Dongzhu, bin jung und unerfahren,
und als mir zur Probe die Rüstung angelegt wurde, ver-
stand ich’s nicht, mich zu verstellen.
Nun lastet dieses Ungemach auf mir,
die mich säugende Mutter aber will ich nicht verlassen!
Uama Dongzhu sagte, er könne die ihn stillende
Nlutter nicht verlassen, und flüchtete in die Arme
der Mutter, an deren Brust er zu saugen begann. Da
überwältigte Kummer die Anwesenden.
Shidanglaqian sagte Aluo Chagan, dass er einen
Wahrsager hinzuziehen wolle, bevor er endgültig
ehtscheide, wer in die Welt der Sterblichen hinab-
steigen solle.
Um den berühmten Wahrsager Mang’a Dong-
£üo [Semo Kensiä Redziawu] zu holen, musste
hian die große Flussaue von Yirimeng überqueren,
^ies gelang jedoch nur dem, der das Pferd Jinjin-
§üo ritt, den Bogen Dayu und die Pfeile Jinjiang
ütit sich führte und die Rüstung trug, die Aluo Cha-
mitgebracht hatte. Und so fiel die Aufgabe, den
Wahrsager zu holen, Gama Dongzhu zu.
Anfangs weigerte er sich. Nachdem ihm aber
^me Mutter lange Zeit gut zugeredet hatte, war
Uarna Dongzhu schließlich einverstanden. Er fragte
W’üe Mutter, was zu tun war, wenn ihn unterwegs
kühnsucht nach ihr überkam? Die Mutter presste
^üraufhin in einen Beutel Milch aus ihrer Brust und
^üg diesen Gama Dongzhu um den Hals.21 Gama
4nihr
Dongzhu schwang sich auf das Pferd Jinjinguo,
schulterte den Bogen Dayu und die Pfeile Jinjiang,
führte den Hund Qimo Niyu und legte die von Aluo
Chagan mitgebrachte Rüstung an. Dann machte er
sich auf den weiten Weg.
Nach langem Ritt traf er sieben Mädchen, die
ein Glücksspiel [dubo] spielten. Gama Dongzhu
packte das Verlangen mitzuspielen, und er begann
zu spielen. Immer wieder begann er von neuem,
aber es gelang ihm auch nicht ein einziges Mal,
die sieben Mädchen zu besiegen. Er verspielte
Pferd, Hund, Harnisch, Helm, Bogen und Pfeile
und schließlich blieb ihm nichts anderes übrig, als
alles aufs Spiel zu setzen: Er setzte seinen eige-
nen, fünf Fuß großen Körper. Und diesmal hatte
er Glück! Er gewann nicht nur all seinen Besitz
zurück, sondern gewann auch die sieben Mädchen.
Gama Dongzhu war noch sehr unerfahren und so
sprach er: “Ich möchte, dass ihr, wenn ihr spielt,
lacht und vergnügt seid! Ich kann euch nicht ge-
brauchen!” Er trieb die Mädchen nacheinander mit
Schlägen seiner Schleuder fort: Seine Schläge trie-
ben sie auf jeweils einen der sieben Sterne des
Nördlichen Scheffels [Großer Bär]: Auf jeden Stern
wurde eine von ihnen getrieben!
Gama Dongzhu setzte seinen Weg fort und kam
in die Region der Gewässer [chin.: shuiyu difang].
Unterwegs verbarg er den Milchbeutel unter einem
Stein, auf dass er ihm bei der Rückkehr dienlich
wäre. Als er weiter ritt, bemerkte er am Weges-
rand drei Herdsteine, die Reisende zurückgelassen
hatten. Auf den Steinen klebten einige Teeblätter,
ganz so, als trügen die Steine Kappen. Ein Stück
weiter entdeckte er am Wegrand ein Vogelnest mit
drei Eiern. Gama Dongzhu sprach zu ihnen: “Lasst
uns Brüderschaft schließen! Bei meiner Rückkehr
will ich nach euch sehen!”
Als Gama Dongzhu die Region der Gewässer
erreichte und das Haus des Mang’a Dongguo fand,
rief er, sowie er dessen Frau erblickte: “Bettlerin!
Bettlerin! Bettlerin!” Wie die Frau ihn solcherart
dreifach plärren hörte, empfing sie ihn recht wü-
tend. Mit stieren Augen blickte sie seitwärts und
erkundigte sich nach seinem Begehr. “Ist Mang’a
Dongguo zu Hause?”, fragte Gama Dongzhu. “Er
ist nicht da! Er ist nicht da! Er ist nicht da!”
Die Frau des Mang’a Dongguo rief dreimal, er sei
nicht da, und schlüpfte ins Haus. Dort sagte sie zu
Mang’a Dongguo: “Ein dreijähriges Kindlein, das
noch an der Brust saugt, hat mich dreimal ‘Bett-
lerin’ gerufen. Wie beschämend! Ich habe es nicht
hereingebeten, will ihm auch die Tür nicht öffnen
21 Vgl. zu diesem Ausrüsten des Helden mit einem Beutel
Muttermilch Heissig (1980: 47-49, 438).
'opos 101.2006
484
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
und werde mich auf gar keinen Fall mit ihm abge-
ben!” Hastig sprach Mang’a Dongguo: “Weißt du
denn nicht, dass dieses dreijährige Kind kein ge-
wöhnlicher Gast ist? Es ist der zukünftige Löwen-
Großkönig von Chawu Lang! Mach sofort das Tor
auf und lass das Kind herein! Kränke es ja nicht!”
Mang’a Dongguo war ein berühmter Wahrsager,
dem nicht verborgen blieb, wer als Gast vor seiner
Türe stand! Und so riet er seiner Frau, das Kind
nicht zu kränken.
Als Gama Dongzhu vor Mang’a Dongguo stand,
sprach er: “Wahrsager Mang’a Dongguo, komm
bitte mit mir! Bitte komme ins Reich der Unsterbli-
chen im Himmel, denn meine Familie bittet dich
in einer wichtigen Angelegenheit wahrzusagen.”
Mang’a Dongguo entsprach seiner Bitte, packte die
zur Wahrsagung benötigten Utensilien zusammen
und folgte Gama Dongzhu.
Die Utensilien, die Mang’a Dongguo für das
Orakel benötigte, hatten die Größe eines Ziegenka-
davers [chin.: shanyang shiti], er selbst hingegen
war lediglich so groß wie ein Daumen. Und so band
Gama Dongzhu ihn an den Schwanz des Pferdes
und machte sich auf den Weg. Unterwegs kam ihm
der Gedanke, die hellseherischen Fähigkeiten des
Mang’a Dongguo zu prüfen. Er sprach: “Mang’a
Dongguo, Ihr seid ein Meister der Wahrsagung, und
man sagt, dass Eure Prophezeiungen stets zutref-
fen. Sagt mir doch, ob die drei Brüder, denen ich
unterwegs begegnet bin und die hohe Kappen tru-
gen, sich noch immer an Ort und Stelle befinden?”
Bereitwillig antwortete Mang’a Dongguo: “Sie be-
finden sich noch immer dort, wo du sie getroffen
hast, und sie haben sich nicht von der Stelle gerührt,
denn sie können sich nicht rühren. Aber sie haben
allesamt ihre Kappen abgestreift!” “Die Brüder sol-
len anwesend sein, nicht aber ihre Kappen; ich sehe
schon, dass er nicht allzu viel kann! Wir werden
darüber reden, wenn wir dort sind und sehen, wie’s
darum steht!”, dachte Gama Dongzhu. Als sie aber
bei den drei Herdsteinen ankamen, da lagen tat-
sächlich die Steine noch an ihrem ursprünglichen
Platz, aber die Teeblätter waren in der Sonne welk
geworden und der Wind hatte sie fortgeblasen! Be-
deutete das nicht, dass sie zwar noch da, ihre Kap-
pen aber fort waren? Gama Dongzhu war nun der
Meinung, dass der Wahrsager doch nicht so ohne
war! Neuerlich wandte er sich an ihn: “Du hast
recht. Nun aber steig aufs Pferd, denn es geht nicht
an, dass du am Schwanz festgebunden bist. Komm
herauf und reite auf dem Sattel. Ich werde dich
unterwegs festhalten!” Bei diesen Worten band er
Mang’a Dongguo vom Schwanz des Pferdes los,
setzte ihn vor sich auf den Sattel und ritt weiter,
indem er ihn festhielt.
Nach einiger Zeit versuchte er ihn erneut: “Als
ich kam, habe ich drei Brüder getroffen. Sag mir
doch, wie’s derzeit um sie steht?” Nach Befra-
gung des Orakels antwortete Mang’a Dongguo;
“Ihr Haus befindet sich noch an Ort und Stelle, sie
selbst aber sind fort!” Gama Dongzhu überlegte, ob
es denn möglich wäre, dass die Küken schon aus
den Eiern geschlüpft waren, die er auf dem Hin-
weg gefunden hatte? Als er zu dem Nest kam und
nachsah, waren tatsächlich die Vögelchen schon
ausgeflogen, nur das leere Nest befand sich noch an
Ort und Stelle. Gama Dongzhu war nunmehr über-
zeugt, dass der Wahrsager sein Geschäft verstand.
Und doch fragte er ihn noch einmal: “Du hast
in beiden Fällen Recht gehabt. Nun bitte ich dich,
mir nochmals wahrzusagen: Unterwegs habe ich so
etwas wie Nahrung versteckt. Ist es noch da oder
nicht?” “Die von dir versteckte Nahrung ist noch
da, aber wenn die Speise im Munde sein wird, wird
sie bei den Nasenlöchern wieder herauskommen!”
In solch seltsamer Weise antwortete ihm Mang’a
Dongguo.
“Diesmal irrst du! Sobald ich sie im Mund haben
werde, werde ich sie schlucken! Wie sollte sie wie-
der durch die Nase herauskommen?” Gama Dongz-
hu ritt zu der Stelle, an der er den Beutel mit Milch
versteckt hatte, und hob den Stein auf. Der Beutel
lag noch immer an seinem Ort. Sobald er diesen er-
blickte, war ihm, als sähe er die Mutter! Aus Freude
darüber entglitt ihm der Stein: Er fiel auf den Beu-
tel und ließ ihn platzen. Die Milch versickerte im
Geröll und für Gama Dongzhu blieb nichts übrig-
Mang’a Dongguo stand daneben und sprach: “Nun,
ist’s nicht so, wie ich gesagt habe? Wie du siehst,
bedeutet das nichts anderes, als dass die Nahrung,
die sich schon im Mund befand, wieder durch die
Nasenlöcher herausgekommen ist!”
Gama Dongzhu war nun restlos überzeugt und
sprach: “Deine Orakel sind trefflich, wirklich treff-
lich!” Nachdem er kurz überlegt hatte, richtete
er folgende Bitte an Mang’a Dongguo; “Ich habe
Euch gerufen und geholt, weil Ihr bestimmen sollt,
wer von uns drei Brüdern nach Chawu Lang gehen
und dort die Würde des Herrschers übernehmen
soll. Ich bitte Euch, nennt nicht meinen Namen!
Wenn das Orakel mich bestimmt, so sagt nichts
davon. Ich bin noch klein, meine beiden Brüder
hingegen sind groß und stärker als ich.” Mang’a
Dongguo aber antwortete entschieden, das werde er
nicht tun, zumal das Orakel bereits bestimmt habe,
dass Gama Dongzhu Herrscher von Chawu Lang
werden würde!
Die Wahrsagung begann: Shidanglaqian, Wan-
nianqian, Xiulu Rijian, Qiangqiang Tawei sowie
die Mutter von Gama Dongzhu und weitere Perso-
Anthropos 101-2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
485
nen versammelten sich. Als erstes wurde das Ora-
kel für Nima Dongzhu gestellt und Mang’a Dong-
guo verkündete: “Der älteste Sohn Nima Dongzhu
ist zu Hause ein Tiger, geht er aber zur Türe hinaus,
ist er weniger wert als ein Hund!” Das bedeutete,
dass er der Aufgabe nicht gewachsen war.
Nun kam Dawa Dongzhu an die Reihe, und
Mang’a Dongguo verkündete: “Zu Hause gleicht
er dem Löwen, außer Haus einem Tagou [Otter-
hund?].” Auch Dawa Dongzhu war somit nicht ge-
eignet.
Als nächstes wurde das Orakel für Gama
Dongzhu gestellt. Da er erst drei Jahre alt war, sa-
hen ihn weder die Eltern noch seine ältere Schwes-
ter Qiangqiang Tawei gerne ziehen. Aber der Meis-
ter der Wahrsagung Mang’a Dongguo blieb eisern:
Wen immer die Bestimmung traf, er nahm weder
Rücksicht noch sprach er die Unwahrheit! Er ver-
kündete: “Gama Dongzhu ist zu Hause das Nest-
häkchen, außer Haus aber ist er ein Löwe. Er soll
nach Chawu Lang gehen und Herrscher werden. So
bestimmt es das Los!”
Da das Orakel Gama Dongzhu zum Herrscher
Über Chawu Lang bestimmt hatte, war nichts zu
machen; Gama Dongzhu musste gehen!
2*3 Gesars Geburt in der irdischen Welt
Revor Gama Dongzhu sich in die Welt der Sterb-
lichen begab, verwahrte er seinen [himmlischen]
Leib in einem keilförmigen Stupa, damit er nicht
Während des Sommers verwesen noch im Winter
erfrieren würde. Wenn er in die Gefilde der Un-
sterblichen im Himmel zurückkehrte, konnte seine
Seele wieder von dem Leib Besitz ergreifen und ihn
Züm Leben erwecken. Shidanglaqian, Warinian-
Üian, Xiulu Rijian und Qiangqiang Tawei umring-
ten mit weiteren Personen den Stupa, beteten ehr-
erbietig und legten Gelübde ab. Die ältere Schwes-
ter Qiangqiang Tawei gelobte: “Ich werde dich so
^schützen, wie die Wimpern den Augapfel schüt-
Zen!” Die Mutter gelobte: “Ich werde dich so be-
schützen, wie der Stiefel den Fuß schützt!” Der
vater gelobte: “Ich werde dich so beschützen, wie
dte Kappe den Kopf schützt!” Alle Anwesenden ge-
übten: “Wenn du um Hilfe rufst, werden wir sofort
bei dir sein!”
Schließlich sprach Mang’a Dongguo: “Ich kann
d*r nichts anderes geben als ein Gewand. Trägst du
®s, wirst du im Sommer nicht schwitzen und im
'Vinter nicht frieren und du wirst jede Verwandlung
^nehmen können, die du anzunehmen wünschst.
Ls heißt Renqian Buri Lishi Zhihua.” Dieses Ge-
wand glich einer schäbigen Jacke aus Leder, tat-
Anthr.
opos 101.2006
sächlich aber war es ein Zaubergewand: Sun Wu-
kong konnte 72 Verwandlungsformen annehmen, in
dieser Jacke aber konnte man 73 Verwandlungsfor-
men annehmen, also eine mehr als Sun Wukong!22
Bevor sich Gama Dongzhu in die Welt der Sterb-
lichen begab, ließ er drei frische Blüten hinab-
schweben. Sie verwandelten sich in drei farbige
Wolken, die sich auf die Erde hinabsenkten: Es wa-
ren die Verwandlungskörper der Sangzan Zhoumu,
der Bazan Benji und der Adou Lamu, der drei Frau-
en des Gesar, die ihm in den Gefilden der Unsterb-
lichen als Gemahlinnen zugedacht worden waren.
Bevor Gama Dongzhu in die irdische Welt hin-
abstieg, schärfte er seinen Eltern folgendes ein:
“Mein gnaden- und tugendreicher Vater, meine
gnaden- und tugendreiche Mutter, ich begebe mich
nun hinab nach Chawu Lang in die Welt der Sterb-
lichen und bitte euch deshalb, meinen Leib stets
in dem Stupa zu verwahren und sorgsam zu hüten.
Sorgt dafür, dass er im Sommer nicht verwest und
im Winter nicht einfriert. Betet beständig, rezitiert
die Sutren und schützt mich, damit mir kein Unge-
mach widerfährt!”
Nach siebentägigem Gebet in den Gefilden der
Unsterblichen im Himmel wurde Gama Dongzhu
verabschiedet. Plötzlich flog aus dem keilförmigen
Stupa ein Vögelchen, die Verwandlungsform des
Gama Dongzhu. Nachdem es den Stupa verlas-
sen hatte, fühlte sich das Vögelchen frei und un-
beschwert, und es kam auf abwegige Gedanken:
“Jetzt da ich Flügel habe und fliegen kann, wie
es mir gefällt, könnte ich statt nach Chawu Lang
auch in andere Gegenden fliegen!” Aber als es sich
umblickte, sah es, dass Aluo Chagan sich in ei-
nen Sperber verwandelt hatte und es verfolgte. Der
Sperber jagte es in die irdische Welt hinab nach
Chawu Lang.
Zur gleichen Zeit hatte Ake Chaotong einen
Traum: Er sah, wie sich in der Stadt Emuyin-
kuan schneeweiße Milchkühe sammelten und Un-
heil verheißende, nichts Halbes und nichts Ganzes
darstellende Tiere - ein Löwe, der nicht einem Lö-
wen glich, und ein Tiger, der nicht einem Tiger
glich, - alle diese Kühe fraßen, indem sie kurz mit
der oberen Lefze nippten, mit der unteren saug-
ten und mit der roten Zunge leckten. Erschrocken
fuhr Ake Chaotong aus dem Schlaf auf und sah
in diesem Traum ein Unheil verheißendes Omen.
22 Nach El befähigt das Gewand seinen Träger zu 62 Ver-
wandlungsformen. “Es schützt den Leib wie ein Panzer, den
Kopf wie ein Helm, die Beine wie Eisenschienen” (Heis-
sig 1980:446, Vers 217[sic! (2217)]—2218, 2221). - Bei
diesen Vorgängen im Himmel endet Schröders Übersetzung
von El.
486
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
Während er darüber nachsann, schlief er erneut ein.
Da träumte er, dass in der Stadt Emuyinkuan in
Chawu Lang ein Stupa aus Butter geopfert wurde,
der kunstvoll verziert und von außergewöhnlicher
Schönheit war. Aber binnen kurzem ging im Osten
die glänzende Sonne auf, worauf der Stupa in der
Hitze schmolz und wie Schnee im Sonnenlicht zer-
floss. So träumte er gegen Mitternacht. Gegen Mor-
gen sah er im Traum, wie von Norden, vom Julu-
Kontinent her, ein wunderschöner Vogel geflogen
kam, ein Vogel, wie er ihn noch nie zuvor gesehen
hatte. Ake Chaotong versuchte, ihn zu fangen. Aber
als er die Hand nach ihm ausstreckte, konnte er ihn
nicht greifen, der Vogel aber flog fort und riss dabei
eine so gewaltige Bresche in die neun Stadtmauern,
dass es drei Jahre brauchte, den Schaden zu behe-
ben. Ake Chaotong schreckte hoch und fand nun
keine Ruhe mehr. Diese Träume verhießen nichts
Gutes. Ake Chaotong sorgte sich immer mehr, je
länger er über sie nachdachte.
Im Morgengrauen flog Gama Dongzhu als Vo-
gel in die irdische Welt nach Chawu Lang hinab.
Dabei dachte er; “Ich kann weiterfliegen oder mich
niederlassen. Aber - wo lasse ich mich am besten
nieder?” Noch während er nachdachte, tauchte vor
ihm die Stadt Emuyinkuan auf und zu ihren Mauern
schwebte er hinab. Er spähte umher und hielt Aus-
schau und erkannte, dass dies Emuyinkuan war, die
Stadt des Ake Chaotong. Anfänglich widerstrebte
ihm, sich dort niederzulassen, dann aber entschied
er: “Heute ist der Tag, an dem ich zeigen werde,
wozu ich in der Lage bin!” Der Vogel streckte sei-
nen Hals, sein Kopf glich einem goldenen Siegel,
der Schnabel einer Stahlstichel. Er strich über das
Gefieder und es glich der Befiederung des Pfeil-
schaftes, er breitete seine Flügel aus und es war, als
spanne man einen Bogen oder eine Armbrust. Als
er seine Krallen spreizte, glichen sie [den Zinken
einer] eisernen Harke.
Zur selben Zeit meldete ein Diener dem Ake
Chaotong: “Großkönig Ake, kommt und seht,
welch seltsamer Vogel sich auf die Stadtmauer ge-
setzt hat!” Als Ake Chaotong vor die Türe trat und
den Vogel erblickte, erkannte er in ihm den Vogel,
den er im Traum gesehen hatte. Der Vogel spreiz-
te die Flügel und vollführte einen Scheinkampf,
der seine Fähigkeiten erkennen ließ. Ake Chaotong
schickte sofort nach dem Wahrsager Tarang Zeng-
pai, damit er Kunde gebe, was von dem Erscheinen
des Vogels zu halten sei.
Als Tarang Zengpai sah, in welcher Weise der
Vogel den Hals reckte, die Flügel spreizte und die
scharfen Krallen schwang, verkündete er: “Sein
Kopf ist viereckig wie ein Siegel. Dies bedeutet,
dass er das Siegel und die Macht in Händen hal-
ten wird. Sein Schnabel gleicht einer Stahlstichel,
was bedeutet, dass er außergewöhnliche Fähigkei-
ten besitzt. Sein Gefieder gleicht einem stählernen
Hämisch und einem silbernen Helm, seine Flügel
erinnern an den gespannten Bogen aus Horn und
sein Schwanz an den auf der Sehne liegenden Pfeil.
Dies weist auf einen verwegenen Heerführer hin,
einen Meister der Kriegskünste.” Dank dieser Zei-
chen bestimmte Tarang Zengpai, dass der Vogel
Ungemach verhieß!
Ake Chaotongs Miene verdüsterte sich: “Ist es
möglich, dass mir jemand den Thron streitig ma-
chen will? Mein großer Bogen ist etwas zu groß
für ihn, mein kleiner Bogen etwas zu klein. Holt
mir den mittleren Bogen!” Während er den Bogen
spannte und zielte, flog der Vogel fort und trampelte
dabei die neun Mauern derart nieder, dass es mehr
als drei Jahre brauchte, sie wieder aufzubauen.
Der ältere Bmder des Ake Chaotong hieß Sang-
dang, seine Frau Gangji23. Sangdang war so be-
schränkt, dass er noch nicht einmal bis Zehn zäh-
len konnte. Da Ake Chaotong gereizt und verärgert
war, ließ er seinen Zorn an den beiden aus; er über-
ließ ihnen einige alte Pferde, Hunde und Rinder und
jagte sie in das Hochtal Lang Seroukeka hinauf, wo
sie von da an leben sollten. Dort pfiff beständig ein
eisiger Wind, der durch Mark und Bein ging und
vor dem nicht einmal ein Zelt Schutz bot.24 * *
23 Hermanns (1965: 418); Seng-thang ra-skyes (416: Seng-stag
Ider-bu) und Ma-agags-thza Iha-mo, auch aGags-thza lh&~
mo oder aGags-thza genannt; letzterer Name verweist auf
die Gegend, aus der sie stammte (418, 419).
24 Nach der Amdo-Version dagegen ist Seng-thang “ein Mann
von gutem Verstand und solider Tugend”, aGags-thza gilt
als die “allerbeste Gemahlin” des Landes gLing und “war
von großem Mitleid und Glauben. ... Im Gedenken des
Späteren und im Sammeln und Aufhäufen von Verdiens-
ten war sie geschickt” (Hermanns 1965: 418). In der von
Hermanns wiedergegebenen Amdo-Variante wird die Mutter
des Gesar von seinem irdischen Vater an einen drei Pfeil-
schüsse vom Lager entfernten Ort verstoßen, da er infolg6
der Ränke seiner Nebengattin, einer Schwester der Mutter,
und des A-khu Khro-thung überzeugt ist, dass sein Kind von
einem Dämon gezeugt wurde. Es werden ihr ein Zelt, eine
zehnjährige Stute, eine Yakkuh, ein Mutterschaf und eine
Hündin mitgegeben, die zur Zeit der Geburt des Gesar eben-
falls Junge werfen (1965: 421-423). - Die Tiere erinnern an
jene alten, lahmen oder blinden Tiere mongolischer und ti-
betischer Brautwerbermärchen, in denen die Königstochter-
meist die jüngste - sich einen Tierbräutigam bzw. einen ver-
meintlichen Bettler (in Wirklichkeit der die künftige Braut
prüfende Prinz eines Nachbarreiches) zum Gemahl erkürt-
Die enttäuschten Eltern überlassen dem ungleichen Paar zu-
dem als Mitgift ebensolche Tiere, bisweilen zusätzlich einen
die Menschensprache verstehenden Hund und/oder ein zer-
schlissenes Zelt (vgl. Bielmeier und Herrmann 1982: 48 L
153, 229, 242; Heissig 2000: 179-184, 228f.; 2003: 82-86.
134; Herrmann 1989: 181, 261, 295; Kretschmar 1982; U4’
130, 207; 1986; 123; Phukang und Schwieger 1982: l?4,
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
487
In der Nacht, in der Gangji den Lang Senqian25
gebar, fielen dort, wo Ake Chaotong wohnte, neun
Fuß und neun Zoll Schnee. Es schneite dabei in
recht seltsamer Weise: Zuerst fielen drei Fuß und
drei Zoll weißer Schnee, dann drei Fuß und drei
Zoll schwarzer Schnee und schließlich drei Fuß
und drei Zoll roter (blutiger) Schnee.26 Bestimmt
bedeutete das nichts Gutes! Ake Chaotong sprach
zu Qijia Rangmou: “Hier hat es neun Fuß und neun
Zoll geschneit, wer weiß, wie viel Schnee bei den
beiden Alten in Lang Seroukeka gefallen ist? Geh
doch mal nachsehen, ob die beiden tot sind oder
noch leben: Dort dürfte man wohl jetzt nicht mal
mehr Vögel oder Fliegen finden! Sie sind bestimmt
tot!” Qijia Rangmou antwortete: “Mein großherzi-
ger und tugendreicher Vater, wie soll jemand bei
neun Fuß hohem Schnee in diese Gegend Vordrin-
gen können, in der man schon an gewöhnlichen
Tagen vor Wind und Schnee nicht sicher ist!” “Du
Taugenichts,” herrschte Ake Chaotong ihn an, “du
Weißt noch nicht mal, wie man sich einen Weg
bahnt?! Ich will’s dir sagen: Treib zuerst Yaks, dann
Fferde und zuletzt Schafe vor dir her, dann wirst du
dir einen Weg bahnen!”
Qijia Rangmou befolgte die Anweisungen des
Katers: Er brach in Richtung Lang Seroukeka auf,
Wobei er Yaks, Pferde und Schafe einen Weg durch
den Schnee bahnen ließ. Aber je weiter er kam,
desto weniger Schnee lag, und als er die Felsen-
klamm erreichte, war von Schnee nichts mehr zu
sehen! Von den Felswänden und Stromschnellen
Wallte heißer Dampf auf und frische rote, gelbe,
blaue, weiße und buntfarbene Blumen und Blüten
235f. sowie Macdonald 1967: 71-81). Eine Parallele zu die-
sem Typus Brautwerbermärchen bilden die Episoden der Er-
langung der aBrug-mo in der Amdo-Gesariade (Hermanns
1965: 429 f.) und der Rogmo Goa durch Joro (Gesars Ver-
wandlung in die Gestalt eines hässlichen Jünglings) in der
Geser-Khan-Buchversion von 1716 (Schmidt 1966: 59-64,
24-76; vgl. Heissig 1983: 299f.).
6 Bedeutung: “Der Löwe des Reiches Ling” (OA). - In der
Amdo-Version “gLing Seng chen König Ge sar”, von Her-
manns mit “löwengleicher König Gesar von Ling” übersetzt
(1965:432, 898, Anm. 38); auch Sen-chen Nor-bu dGra-
dul, d. i. Mahäsimha Mäni Raja, genannt.
Die Amdo-Version erwähnt am Tage der Geburt des Gesar
ebenfalls heftigen Schneefall, gepaart mit einem Erdbeben
(Hermanns 1965:423), in der Kham-Version regnet es bei
der Geburt des Gesar weißen Reis, goldene Blumen sind
aufgeblüht und gelber, roter, blauer und schwarzer Schnee
bedeckt die Erde, am Nachmittag dieses Tages fällt reich-
lich Schnee (David-Neel et Yongden 1995:96, 98; zu der
Auslegung dieser Vorzeichen s. 97 f.). Die mongolische Ge-
seriade erzählt von nasskaltem Wetter, das an diesem Tage
herrscht, jedoch schneit es auf der Länge eines Pfeilschus-
Ses im Umkreis der Jurte des Neugeborenen nicht (Schmidt
1^66: 15, 17).
nthropos 101.2006
erfüllten den Ort mit ihrer Pracht. In diesem Blu-
menmeer tanzten Schmetterlinge und Honigbienen
und über dem Dach des zerschlissenen Zeltes von
Sangdang und Gangji wölbte sich ein leuchten-
der Regenbogen.27 Qijia Rangmou sah ein neuge-
borenes Füllen, das herumsprang, und einen eben
erst geborenen Welpen, der Milch sog. Er lauschte
aufmerksam und vernahm das Geplärr eines Säug-
lings. Man erzählte ihm:28 “Das schnell laufende
Füllen ist Danguo Yuliwa, das bellende Hündchen
ist Dala Dongqi und jenes schreiende Neugeborene
ist der Lang Senqian.” Nach seiner Rückkehr teilte
Qijia Rangmou dem Vater mit, was er gesehen und
gehört hatte; “Mein großherziger und tugendreicher
Vater, ich bin von Lang Seroukeka zurückgekehrt;
Der Ort ist ganz anders, als du ihn beschrieben hast!
Du sagtest, dass dort nicht mal mehr Bienen und
Fliegen leben könnten! Aber ganz im Gegenteil:
Es ist eine von warmem Dunst erfüllte Gegend,
über die sich ein Regenbogen wölbt; sie ist voll
mit frischen Blumen und Blüten und Schmetter-
linge [wörtl.: fendie = Weißlinge (Pieridae) bzw.
Kleiner Kohlweißling (Pieris rapae)] und Honig-
bienen fliegen von Blume zu Blüte! Ich habe ge-
sehen, dass eine Mähre ein Fohlen geworfen hat,
von dem es hieß, dass es das Danguo Yuliwa sei.
Eine alte Hündin hatte einen Welpen geworfen, den
sie gerade säugte, von ihm hieß es, er sei der Dala
Dongqi. Und ich hörte einen Säugling schreien, der
der Lang Senqian sein soll.”
Ake Chaotong erschrak: “Schlimm, schlimm!
Mein Gegner Lang Senqian muss sterben! Einen
Baum muss man fällen, solang er jung ist, einen
Menschen muss man beseitigen, solang er klein ist!
Sonst wird man später nicht mehr mit ihm fertig
werden!” Er vergiftete ein Stück Hammelfleisch,
einen Magen voll Butter sowie eine Armspanne
Pulo-Stoff und machte sich auf den Weg, den Säug-
ling zu töten.
2.4 Ake Chaotong versucht, Gesar zu beseitigen
Das Kind Lang Senqian wusste schon im voraus
von Ake Chaotongs Plänen und sprach zu seinen
Eltern:
Mein großherziger und gütiger Vater,
meine großherzige und gütige Mutter,
ihr glaubt, dass ich zu Großem ausersehen bin,
27 Hermanns (1965; 423): Über dem Ort, an dem Gesar gebo-
ren wurde, ist bei Sonnenaufgang ein glänzender Sonnen-
strahl zu sehen.
28 “Renmen shuo”: Wer mit rennten, “(die) Menschen”, “man”,
gemeint ist, wird nicht klar.
488
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
aber ich bin nur jemand, der ein hartes Los zu tragen hat!
Wenn ich euch nun mit meiner Gegenwart behellige,
so weiß ich nicht, wie viele Härten und Nöte euch bevor-
stehen.
Mein großherziger und gütiger Vater,
meine großherzige und gütige Mutter,
Eltern, die ihr meinen fleischlichen Leib geboren habt,
der Sohn liebt euch sehr!
Meine Ober- und meine Unterlippe schließen sich nicht,
weshalb ich zu euch nur schwer in geziemender Art und
Weise sprechen kann.
“Morgen wird Onkel Ake Chaotong uns besuchen
kommen, denn er will mich töten, solange ich noch
klein und hilflos bin. Er wird einen Magensack
voll Butter bringen, in die er Gift gemischt hat.
Esst ja nicht davon, sondern werft Butterstücke
gen Himmel und schlagt den Magen einmal gegen
den Zeltpfosten. Dann gebt ihn mir. Er wird weiter
ein Stück vergiftetes Schaffleisch bringen. Werft
Stücke davon gen Himmel und schlagt das Fleisch
auf den Kopf eines Pferdes und die Hörner eines
Rindes. Dann gebt es mir. Er wird einen Pulo-Stoff
von der Länge einer Armspanne schenken, den er
in Gift getränkt hat. Schwenkt ihn gen Himmel
und schlagt ihn gegen das Gestell des Kochkessels.
Dann wickelt ihn mir um den Daumen. Er wird
wohl zu kurz sein, um meinen Daumen zu umge-
ben. Ake Chaotong wird schamrot und zornig wer-
den, er wird mich in die Arme nehmen, um mich
zu erdrücken. Sorgt euch nicht, sondern lasst ihn
gewähren: Ich weiß schon, was zu tun ist!”
Tatsächlich kam am nächsten Morgen Ake
Chaotong. Er gab vor, sich zu freuen und strahl-
te übers ganze Gesicht: “Ich hörte, dass ihr zwei
alten Leutchen einen Sohn bekommen habt,” sag-
te er scheinheilig, “das ist für unsere Familie ein
besonderes Ereignis! Ich fragte mich, ob ihr genug
Nahrung und Kleidung habt und das Kind nicht
hungern und frieren muss? Deshalb eilte ich her-
bei, um nach euch zu sehen. Ich habe Schaffleisch
und einen Magen voll Butter mitgebracht, damit
das Kind zu essen hat. Außerdem habe ich eine
Armspanne Pulo-Stoff für ein Kleidchen dabei.”
Gangji nahm das Hammelfleisch, die Butter und
den Stoff und tat wie das Kind am Abend zuvor
geraten hatte. Sie nahm von der Butter und warf
Stücke gen Himmel, der sich sogleich verfärbte und
rötete. Sie schlug die Butter gegen den Zeltpfosten,
und dieser bekam einen langen Riss. Dann gab sie
die Butter dem Kind, das diese, ohne zu zaudern,
verschluckte. Ake Chaotong wartete darauf, dass
das Kind an dem Gift starb, doch nichts geschah!
Gangji warf Stücke des Schaffleisches gen Himmel,
der sich wiederum rötete. Sie schlug das Fleisch
einem Pferd gegen die Stirn, und das Tier bekam
dort sofort weiße Haare. Sie schlug es einem Rind
über die Hörner, worauf diese splitterten. Sie gab
es dem Kind, das es ohne weiteres mit einem Bis-
sen verschlang. Ake Chaotong hoffte, das Kind am
Gifte sterben zu sehen, aber nichts geschah! Gangji
schwang nun den Pulo-Stoff gen Himmel, der sich
sofort rötete, und schlug ihn gegen das Gestell des
Kochtopfs, das sogleich in drei Teile brach. Sie um-
wickelte den Daumen des Kindes, aber der Stoff
reichte nicht aus. Ake Chaotong war bestürzt und
zürnte, da er alle seine Pläne durchkreuzt sah. “Gib
mir dein Kind,” sagte er daher zu Gangji, “ich will
es in die Arme nehmen und es mir ansehen!” Sie
gab es ihm und gab vor, Tee zu kochen. Chaotong
blickte sich um, und als er sah, dass niemand ihn
beobachtete, quetschte er das Kind mit aller Kraft,
um es zu zerdrücken. Das aber wusste sich zu weh-
ren: Es kackte und pinkelte Chaotong von oben bis
unten voll! Der Kot drückte ihn wie ein mächti-
ger Berg nieder und der Urin schwappte wie das
Wasser eines weiten Sees über ihn hinweg, so dass
er keine Luft mehr bekam. Chaotong schrie aus
Leibeskräften: “Schnell, nimm das Kind! Schnell,
nimm das Kind!” Gangji hingegen ließ sich Zeit,
ihm das Kind abzunehmen, und sagte mit Absicht:
“Halte es noch ein wenig, ich mache dir Tee!”
Gurgelnd rief Ake Chaotong immer wieder; “So
nimm es doch!” Da erst kam Gangji angeschlurft
und nahm das Kind an sich. Eigentlich hätten der
Kot und die Pisse den schurkischen Ake Chaotong
erdrücken und ertränken sollen, aber Gangji hatte
ihm das Kind etwas zu früh abgenommen, weshalb
seinem hündischen Leben noch kein Ende beschie-
den war. Ake Chaotong sprang auf und rannte fort.
Er eilte, so schnell er konnte, zu Chizan, dem
Herrscher über das Reich der Ungeheuer [Dämo-
nen; moguo], und lamentierte verstört und aufge-
bracht; “Großkönig Chizan, Lang Senqian wurde in
Lang Seroukeka geboren. Dieses Mangan xili [OA:
die Art vermehrendes Kind] ist noch keinen Monat
alt und ist schon ungeheuer stark. Wenn es kackt,
so gleicht der Haufen einem mächtigen Berg, wenn
es pisst, so gleicht die Lache einem See. Beinahe
hätte es mich zerquetscht und ertränkt! Welch au-
ßerordentlich starken Neffen habe ich bekommen,
er wird mir eine große Hilfe sein! Euch aber wird er
ein Todfeind werden! Wenn Ihr ihn nicht beseitigt*
solange er noch klein ist, dann werdet Ihr ihn wohl
kaum mehr los werden, wenn er erst erwachsen ist!
Ihr solltet sofort fähige und mutige Heerführer und
Recken entsenden, um ihn beizeiten aus dem Wege
zu räumen, sonst werdet Ihr es eines Tages bereuen-
Überlegt es Euch gut!”
König Chizan, Herrscher des Landes der Unge-
heuer, beeindruckte das alles nicht; “Beruhige dich,
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
489
das hat keine Eile. Ein Kind, das noch nicht mal
einen Monat alt ist, mag so viele Fähigkeiten ha-
ben, wie es will, man wird ihm trotzdem beikom-
men. Morgen schicke ich Xiala Xianiang, Raben-
befehlshaber der Dämonenvögel, der es verschlu-
cken wird. Geh nach Hause und mache dir keine
Sorgen!”
Am selbigen Abend sprach der Junge zu seinen
Eltern:
Mein großherziger und gütiger Vater,
meine großherzige und gütige Mutter,
ich sage, dass ich ein schweres Los zu tragen habe,
ihr aber sagt, dass ich zu Großem ausersehen bin.
Es bringt euch kein Glück, dass ihr mich geboren habt,
sondern Ungemach müsst ihr wegen mir ertragen!
“Onkel Chaotong gelang es heute nicht, mich zu
vergiften und zu zerquetschen. Aber er wird nicht
aufgeben! Er hat sich mit Chizan verschworen, dem
Großkönig des schwarzen Dämonenreiches, da sein
ganzes Streben sich darauf richtet, mich zu töten.
Morgen wird Chizan seinen Rabengeneral Xiala
■Maniang aussenden, damit er mich frisst. Sorgt
eüch nicht und seid nicht traurig! Stellt am Zeltein-
gang einen hohen Manimasten auf, mit einer spit-
Zen Nadel auf der Spitze. Fertigt mir einen Bogen
Und einen Pfeil an und versteckt mich unter dem
Xaksattel. Dann steigt auf den Gipfel des Götterber-
§es [shenshan]. Der Himmel wird sich kurzzeitig
verfinstern. Wenn es wieder hell wird, so kommt
herab. Weint aber nicht, denn sonst trüben sich mei-
ne Sinne und ich werde nur schwer mit dem Raben
fertig. Seid nicht traurig und habt keine Angst: Ich
'veiß, dass er mich nicht fressen kann!”
Am anderen Morgen standen Sangdang und
^angji sehr früh auf, stellten vor dem Zelt den ho-
ben Manimasten auf, auf dessen Spitze eine Nadel
Reckte. Sie fertigten Pfeil und Bogen an und ga-
ben beides dem Kind, das sie unter dem Yaksat-
tel versteckten. Dann brachen sie auf. Obwohl sie
eütschlossen waren, nicht zu weinen, blickten sie
schon nach wenigen Schritten zurück, nach einigen
^eiteren Schritten blickten sie erneut zurück. Sie
s°rgten sich sehr, weinten bitterlich und wurden
vcn Angst und Trauer hin und her gerissen. Obwohl
bnen der Sohn eingeschärft hatte, nicht zu weinen
bnd sich nicht zu sorgen, gelang ihnen das als El-
tern nicht!
Es war strahlendes Wetter und keine Wolke
stand am Himmel. Xiala Xianiang, Rabenfeldherr
es Reiches der Ungeheuer, schwang sich in die
Mte empor, breitete seine Flügel aus und zog hoch
en seine Kreise. Er kam nach Lang Seroukeka
geflogen und verdeckte dabei Himmel und Sonne,
cshalb es den Anschein hatte, als würde es finster.
Nuhr
Er flog zu dem Zelt in Lang Seroukeka, und als er
den Masten für die Gebetsfahnen sah, wollte er sich
auf ihn setzen, aber die Nadel auf seiner Spitze hielt
ihn davon ab. So ließ er sich auf dem Aschehaufen
vor dem Zelt nieder und krächzte dreimal laut. Er
wetzte mehrmals den Schnabel, der scharf wie ei-
ne Lanzenspitze war. Er wetzte nach rechts, nach
links, nach vorne und nach hinten und rief dabei:
Ich bin der Rabengeneral des Reiches der Ungeheuer,
Xiala Xianiang ist mein weit bekannter Name.
Heute bin ich nach Lang Seroukeka gekommen,
um das gerade geborene Mangan xili zu bezwingen.
Mangan xili komm heraus und geh in den Tod,
Mangan xili komm heraus und stelle dich mir.
Lang Senqian fragte unter dem Yaksattel hervor:
Wie ich sehe, hast du an Majestät nicht deinesgleichen,
du bist wahrlich ein Rabengeneral, der nicht seinesglei-
chen hat!
Wer dein Krächzen vernimmt,
beginnt zu zittern und zu zagen!
Ich sah dich den Schnabel wetzen,
und weiß nicht, wohin ich fliehen soll.
Bist du ein Götter- oder ein Dämonenrabe?
Woher kommst du und wohin willst du?
Du krächzt vor meinem Zelte und zeigst deine Macht,
warum dies alles?
Großspurig und selbstgefällig antwortete Xiala
Xianiang:
Ich bin ein Dämonenrabe und niemand auf Erden kommt
mir gleich,
ich bin der Rabengeneral des Großkönigs Chizan aus
dem Reich der Ungeheuer,
Xiala Xianiang ist mein allseits bekannter Name.
Ich komme, um dich zu bezwingen!
Komm heraus und stelle dich mir,
verschwende nicht die Zeit mit nutzlosem Palaver!
Neuerlich fragte Lang Senqian: “Wie viele Dämo-
nenvögelgeneräle deiner Art hat denn der Groß-
herrscher Chizan?” Mit von Stolz geschwellter
Brust antwortete Xiala Xianiang: “Jemand wie
ich reicht aus, um mit dir fertig zu werden; was
braucht’s da noch andere?” “Das ist nicht wahr!”,
rief Lang Senqian. “Das ist nicht wahr! Hinter dir
kommen viele Dämonenvögel geflogen, die ausse-
hen wie du! Schau selbst, wenn du’s nicht glaubst!”
Xiala Xianiang reckte den Hals und sah zum
Himmel hinauf. Diesen Moment nützte Lang Sen-
qian und spannte den Bogen so sehr, dass er zu
brechen drohte. Zischend schnellte der Pfeil von
der Sehne und bohrte sich in die Kehle des Dä-
monenvogels. Xiala Xianiang stieß einen grauen-
vollen Schrei aus, schlug noch einige Male mit den
'°Pos 101.2006
490
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
Flügeln und stürzte kopfüber von dem Aschehügel.
Während des Todeskampfes traf ein Flügel das Zelt
und drückte es nieder, weshalb Lang Senqian bei-
nahe erstickt wäre. Dennoch war es ihm ohne große
Mühe gelungen, den hochmütigen Dämonenvogel
Xiala Xianiang zu töten!
Sangdang und Gangji hatten auf dem Gipfel
des Götterberges beobachtet, wie der klare Fhmmel
plötzlich finster wurde und dann wieder aufklarte.
Wunden Herzens weinten sie bittere Tränen, da sie
meinten, der Dämonenvogel habe ihr Kindchen ge-
fressen. Sie rannten den Berg hinab zum Zelt. Aber
was war das? Der riesige, Schrecken erregende Dä-
monenvogel lag verendet vor dem Zelt und ihrem
Kind war nicht das Geringste geschehen! Vor Freu-
de liefen ihnen heiße Tränen übers Gesicht. Aus
den Federn des Dämonenvogels fertigten sie ein
Filzbett an, seine Flügel verwendeten sie als Bett-
decke. Sein Fleisch kochten sie in mehreren großen
Kesseln, aßen es und genossen dabei jenes Glück,
das armen Leute beschieden ist.
Sie trennten den Kopf des Dämonenvogels ab
und schafften ihn auf den Gipfel des Berges Ge-
ri Gengga [Gari Gangga], wo sie ihn am Obo so
niederlegten, dass der Kopf nach der Gegend blick-
te, in der Chaotong lebte. Als Ake Chaotong be-
merkte, dass der Dämonenvogel Xiala Xianiang zu
ihm herüberspähte, wurde ihm angst und bange. Er
wagte sich nicht vor die Tür und schimpfte: “Wes-
halb ist dieses Vieh - die Vogelpest soll’s holen -
nicht in Lang Seroukeka, das Mangan xili zu ver-
nichten, sondern hier, um nach mir zu spähen?” So
ging es einige Tage lang, bis Ake Chaotong auffiel,
dass der Vogel den Kopf nicht bewegte! Er schickte
zwei Diener aus, um nachzusehen. Die beiden hat-
ten schreckliche Angst und jammerten bei jedem
Schritt, bis sie nahe genug herangekommen waren
und sahen, dass am Obo lediglich der Kopf des
Raben lag!
Dies meldeten sie Ake Chaotong, der sich auf
seinen dreijährigen Yak schwang und, so schnell es
ging, nach Lang Seroukeka ritt. Dort sah er, dass
der Dämonenvogel tot war, seine Federn als Filz-
bett und die Flügel als Zudecke dienten, und sein
Fleisch kesselweise verzehrt wurde! Das war doch
nicht möglich! Er unterdrückte seine Wut und sei-
nen Schmerz und sagte scheinheilig: “Ich habe mir
entsetzliche Sorgen gemacht, als ich gehört habe,
dass ein Dämonenvogel des Chizan, des Königs der
Ungeheuer, gekommen ist, euer Kind zu fressen.
Ich habe den Großkönig Chizan immer wieder dar-
auf hingewiesen, dass in Lang Seroukeka der Lang
Senqian geboren wurde, und ihn gebeten, seine Dä-
monenvögel und Dämonenhunde wegzuschließen,
damit sie nicht hierher kommen und dem Kind
Schaden zufügen. Er hat nicht auf mich gehört und
seinen Dämonenvogel Xiala Xianiang ausgesandt,
anderen Leuten zu schaden. Sowie ich davon hörte,
habe ich keine Ruhe mehr gefunden und bin sofort
aufgebrochen, um nachzusehen. Aber da ihr alle,
der Vater mit dem Sohn und die Mutter mit dem
Sohn, ohne Schaden davongekommen seid, bin ich
beruhigt!”
“Sei ohne Sorge Onkel,” spottete Lang Senqian,
“denn auch ich habe nicht gewusst, ob dies ein Vo-
gel der Dämonen oder der Götter ist. Da mir gerade
danach war, habe ich mit Pfeil und Bogen gespielt,
als er laut krächzend geflogen kam. Na, dann habe
ich eben den Bogen ausprobiert und ihn abgeschos-
sen. Sei’s wie’s sei! Die Federn kann man als Filz-
bett gebrauchen, die Flügel als Zudecke und sein
Fleisch können wir essen! Wie du siehst, genie-
ßen wir armen Leute unser kleines Glück! Wenn
du Federn brauchst, so rupf dir welche aus, wenn
du Fleisch brauchst, so lade dir welches auf. Ob
nun Dämonen- oder Göttervogel, warum musste er
hierher kommen und krächzen, wenn’s mich gerade
in den Fingern juckt!”
Ake Chaotong war bei dem traurigen Anblick
des Rabenkadavers nicht wohl zumute. Er riss drei
Federn aus den Resten des Xiala Xianiang und ritt
auf seinem dreijährigen Yak zu König Chizan ins
Reich der Ungeheuer.
Er zeigte Chizan die Federn: “Euer Dämonenvo-
gel Xiala Xianiang ist von dem Mangan xili getötet
worden! Seht diese Federn, ich habe nur drei mit-
gebracht! Den Rest haben sie zu Bett und Decke
verarbeitet und mit dem Fleisch des Raben schla-
gen sie sich den Wanst voll! Wie oft habt Ihr mit
Eurem Raben Xiali Xianiang geprahlt! Das war ja
wohl nichts; Sein Kadaver liegt nun in Lang Serou-
keka. Wenn Ihr jetzt nicht das Kind von kühnen
Heerführern oder Recken beseitigen lasst, wird es
später Euer ärgster Feind werden. Wartet nicht zu
lange!”
Der Großkönig Chizan des Reiches der Unge-
heuer antwortete: “Wenn ich auch den Rabenge-
neral Xiala Xianiang verloren habe, so habe ich
doch noch Qila Kanduo, den Hundeheerführer. Br
verschlingt jeden Mittag drei Yaks. Er wird morgen
das Mangan xili und seine Eltern auffressen! Mach
dir keine Sorgen und kehre nach Ling zurück!”
Der Großkönig Chizan des Reiches der Un-
geheuer wollte den bösartigen Hundegeneral Qda
Kanduo aussenden, um Lang Senqian den Garaus
zu machen. Er rief ihn zu sich und sagte: “Qda
Kanduo, unser Rabengeneral Xiala Xianiang wurde
von dem Mangan xili umgebracht. Pass daher gut
auf dich auf; sei nicht unvorsichtig und unterschät-
ze den Gegner nicht! Du musst das Mangan xHl
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
491
vernichten! Putz es weg, lass nichts übrig, was uns
künftig schaden könnte!”
Qila Kanduo antwortete schwanzwedelnd und
schmatzend; “Sei ohne Sorge, Großkönig! Ich ver-
breite als Heerführer des Reiches der Ungeheu-
er um mich herum nur Schrecken. Für ein Kind,
das noch nicht einmal einen Monat zählt, braucht’s
doch nicht mal so viel Kraft, wie nötig ist, um ‘das
Haar aus der Butter zu ziehen’! Der Großkönig mö-
ge ruhig sein, ich werde den Gegner vernichten und
nichts von ihm übriglassen, was später Anlass zur
Besorgnis geben könnte!”
An jenem Abend wandte sich Lang Senqian an
seine Eltern:
Mein großherziger und gütiger Vater,
meine großherzige und gütige Mutter.
Ich sage, dass ich ein schweres Los zu tragen habe,
ihr dagegen sagt, dass ich zu Großem ausersehen bin.
Lnd weil ich jetzt bei euch bin,
findet ihr weder Ruhe noch Frieden.
Ake Chaotong ist nicht nach Hause zurückgekehrt,
ms Reich der Ungeheuer ist er geeilt, um uns zu verleum-
den!
‘König Chizan wurde von Ake Chaotong aufge-
hetzt und will morgen seinen schrecklichen Hun-
hegeneral Qila Kanduo aussenden, damit er mich
frisst. Qila Kanduo kennt kein Erbarmen und ist ein
gefährlicher Kämpe. Er wird nicht leicht zu besie-
§en sein! Wenn wir nicht vorsichtig sind, werden
wfr alle, der Vater mit dem Sohn und die Mutter
dem Sohn, durch ihn eines grausigen Todes
sterben!”
Mein großherziger und gütiger Vater,
meine großherzige und gütige Mutter,
lar ward sehr glücklich über meine Geburt,
aber wegen meiner ist euer beider Leben in Gefahr!
frm diesen Worten weinten sie alle, dann aber sagte
*7ang Senqian zu seinen Eltern: “Chizan, der König
es Reiches der Ungeheuer, kennt keine Gnade,
seine Schergen, ganz gleich ob es sich um
^lala Xianiang oder um Qila Kanduo handelt, sind
bm gleich! Tränen helfen uns nicht, wir müssen
Mittel finden, uns zu schützen!” Sangdang und
angji weinten nicht länger und baten um Rat.
Lang Senqian erklärte:
em großherziger und gütiger Vater,
eine großherzige und gütige Mutter.
a Kanduo kennt keine Gnade,
V'ird erst aufgeben, wenn er mich gefressen hat!
em Thujabaumzweige in ein Becken mit reinem Was-
mich in dieses Wasser und wascht mich.
Anth
Dann tauscht es gegen Kuhmilch aus und wascht mich
erneut darin,
wascht mich so lange, bis ich so groß bin wie ein Ei.
“Schöpft in ein sauberes Becken reines Quellwas-
ser und legt einige Thujabaumzweige29 hinein.
Wascht mich in diesem Wasser. Dabei werde ich
schrumpfen. Wenn ihr mich auch noch in der Milch
badet, werde ich immer kleiner werden, je länger
ihr mich badet. Nachdem ich auf die Größe ei-
nes Hühnereis geschrumpft bin, sollt ihr mich dem
Hund auf einem Tablett präsentieren. Ihr müsst ihn
jedoch zuerst inständig anflehen: Euer Sohn sei
doch noch so klein, noch nicht mal so groß wie
ein Hühnerei sei er, da lohne es sich doch für den
Hundegeneral nicht, ihn zu fressen! Er möge war-
ten, bis ich einen Monat alt und größer geworden
sei, dann könne er mich doch immer noch fressen!
Er wird nicht darauf eingehen. Dann müsst ihr ihm
schmeicheln und sagen, er sei der Verwandlungs-
körper eines Löwen, er sehe aus wie ein reißender
Tiger, heldenhaft sei er und voller Kraft und Taten-
drang und so weiter und so fort. Schmeichelt ihm so
lange, bis er mit dem Schwänze wedelt, was zeigt,
dass er vor Freude nicht mehr denken kann. Präsen-
tiert ihm erneut das Tablett und bittet darum, dass er
mich nicht mit seiner roten Zunge umschlingt und
mich nicht zwischen seinen weißen Zähnen leiden
lässt. Er solle mich als Ganzes verschlucken! Bin
ich erst mal in seinem Magen, weiß ich mir zu
helfen. Macht euch um mich keine Sorgen!”
Bei Anbruch des Tages legten Sangdang und
Gangji nach Weisung ihres Sohnes Thujazweige in
eine gereinigte Schüssel und gossen klares Quell-
wasser hinein. Sie wuschen ihr Kind und weinten
dabei bitterlich. Das Kind wurde immer kleiner.
Sie gossen das Wasser ab und füllten die Schüssel
mit Milch. Ihr Sohn schrumpfte noch mehr, bis er
schließlich nur noch so groß wie ein Hühnerei war.
Da kam auch schon Qila Kanduo gerannt und es
wurde deutlich, welche Gefahr von ihm ausging:
Er heulte schaurig, wobei sein Maul einer Höhle,
sein Geheul dem Donnergrollen glich. Vor Schreck
hätte man tot Umfallen mögen!
Sangdang und Gangji weinten herzzerreißend
und flehten Qila Kanduo verzweifelt an: “Das Kind
ist doch noch keinen Monat alt! Es ist erst so groß
wie ein Ei, du hast doch nichts davon, wenn du es
29 Baishuzhi-, bai(shu) bezeichnet verschiedene Koniferenar-
ten (Zypresse, Zeder, Thuja, Wacholder), in der Regel wird
das Wort mit “Zypresse” übersetzt. Im Monguorgebiet be-
zeichnet es jedoch den Thuja- oder Lebensbaum (Schröder
1952-53: 46L, 222f., Anm. 4). Die Aussprache des Wortes
in der Region Sining s. in Li Rong und Zhang Chengcai
(1994: 104).
lroPos 101.2006
492
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
jetzt auffrisst! Du merkst doch gar nicht, wenn du’s
kaust! Warte bis es größer und einen Monat alt ist;
dann hast du wenigstens etwas davon, wenn du es
zerkaust und frisst! Wir flehen dich an, es jetzt noch
nicht zu fressen!”
Der Grausen erregende Hund Qila Kanduo
schüttelte den Kopf. Nun schmeichelten ihm Sang-
dang und Gangji:
Dein Kopf ist die Inkarnation [des Kopfes] eines Löwen,
dein Körper gleicht dem eines reißenden Tigers.
Wie schrecklich und Ehrfurcht heischend du doch bist!
Wie gütig, ruhmvoll und angesehen du doch bist!
Qila Kanduo platzte fast vor Stolz, schwebte auf
Wolken und in Nebeln und wedelte mit dem
Schwanz. Sofort hielten ihm Sangdang und Gangji
das Tablett mit dem Kind hin und flehten:
Wie du siehst, ist das Kind nur so groß wie ein Ei,
bitte umschlinge es nicht mit deiner roten Zunge, wenn
es auf ihr liegt,
bitte zögere nicht lange, wenn es auf deinen weißen
Zähnen liegt,
sondern schluck es bitte unzerkaut hinunter!
Qila Kanduo warf Tablett und Kind in seinen ge-
waltigen Schlund. “Das Mangan xili ist erledigt!”,
sagte er sich und sprang auf.
Nun war aber Lang Senqian nicht in den Magen,
sondern in die Luftröhre geraten. Er hockte sich
auf das Herz des bösen Hundes Qila Kanduo und
rief aus dessen Brust: “Das Mangan xili sitzt auf
deinem Herzen, um dein Leben steht’s nicht zum
Besten!”
Qila Kanduo verspürte einen stechenden
Schmerz und wusste, dass er sich verrechnet hatte!
Die Schmerzen zerrissen seine Brust, und so
bösartig und furchterregend er zuvor gewesen war,
so kläglich und jämmerlich sah er jetzt aus.
Lang Senqian sang:
Nach oben bin ich einst nach Tibet gewandert,
nach unten bin ich einst nach Peking gewandert,
und in der Mitte bin ich einst nach Anduo [Amdo] ge-
wandert,
aber noch nie bin ich an einen solch lauschigen Ort ge-
kommen.
Streckt man die Beine, fühlen sich die Füße wohl,
reckt man die Arme, fühlen sich die Hände wohl,
räkelt man sich, so fühlt man sich am ganzen Körper
wohl.
Schaut man nach oben, so sieht man dort wundersame
Berge und Gipfel,^
30 Diese Stelle bezieht sich wie die nächsten Sätze auf die
Organe des Hundes (OA).
schaut man zur Mitte hin, so wetteifern dort zahllose
Blumen in ihrer Farbenpracht miteinander,
schaut man nach unten, so wogt dort ein Blutmeer.
Selbst die Halle eines Buddhatempels bietet keine sol-
chen Annehmlichkeiten!
Während Lang Senqian sang, streckte er die Arme,
die Hüfte und die Beine, er sah nach oben, in
die Mitte und nach unten, mit Absicht dehnte und
räkelte er sich, um dem bösen Hund unerträgliche
Schmerzen zuzufügen.
Dieser wälzte sich in seiner Qual auf dem Bo-
den und flehte um Schonung: “Es war doch nicht
meine Entscheidung, aus dem Land der Ungeheuer
nach Lang Seroukeka zu kommen, ich muss Kö-
nig Chizan gehorchen! Als mir die beiden Alten
das Ei anboten, habe ich mir nichts dabei gedacht!
Nun steckt Lang Senqian in meiner Brust, er sitzt
auf meinem Herzen und die Schmerzen sind nicht
auszuhalten. Ich flehe dich an, Lang Senqian, ich
bitte dich tausend Mal, verschone mich, verschone
mich dies eine Mal! Ich flehe dich an, ich bitte dich,
komm heraus! Töte mich nicht! Nur wenn du mein
Leben schonst, kann ich dich reich belohnen”:
Kommst du herauf und durch das Maul heraus, danke ich
es dir mit 1 000 edlen Pferden,
kommst du zur Rechten oder Linken heraus, danke ich es
dir mit 1 000 Yaks,
kommst du nach unten heraus, danke ich es dir mit 1 000
Wollschafen.
Qila Kanduo sah erbärmlich aus, seine Worte waren
süßer als Honig. Ein Sprichwort sagt: “Einen HeL
den, den blitzende Schwerter und gleißende Säbel
ungerührt lassen, richten schöne Reden und wohl'
tönende Phrasen zugrunde.” Mit honigsüßen Wor-
ten bat Qila Kanduo um Vergebung und täuschte
mit schmeichelnder Rede Lang Senqian so sehr
dass dieser unschlüssig wurde und auf den Betrug
hereinfiel.
Als er drauf und dran war herauskommen, ver-
wandelte sich Qiangqiang Tawei in einen Sperber,
kreiste am Himmel und warnte Lang Senqian: “Um
nach Chawu Lang zu kommen und Herrscher zu
werden, musst du Not und Leid ertragen! Jetzt bist
du im Bauch eines Hundes, dem die menschlichen
Gefühle fremd sind! Es ist dein ärgster Feind, der
dich nun herauslocken will. Kommst du hinten her-
aus, wirst du in seinem Magen zu etwas Rahmähm
lichem werden. Kommst du oben heraus, wird er
dich derart zerkauen, dass du Tsampamehl gleichst-
Wenn du mir nicht glaubst, dann achte darauf, wus
er jetzt machen wird. Sag ihm, er solle sein
öffnen, da du herauskommen willst.”
Lang Senqian folgte dem Rat seiner älteren
Anthropos I01-2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
493
Schwester und rief: “Öffne weit dein Maul, ich
möchte herauskommen!” Der grässliche Hund riss
sein Maul auf und Qiangqiang Tawei warf ihm ei-
nen Kieselstein hinein, worauf er zubiss und kräf-
tig mit den Zähnen mahlte, bis von dem Kie-
sel nur noch Pulver übrig war; “Das Mangan xili
ist tot”, schrie er zufrieden und erhob sich. “Da
siehst du’s!”, mahnte Qiangqiang. “Wenn du her-
auskommst, ergeht es dir wie dem Kiesel! Was
willst du dann mit den 1 000 Pferden, 1 000 Rin-
dern oder 1 000 Schafen? Töte den Hund! Nur
Wenn du ihn tötest, kommst du davon. Und wenn du
am Leben bleibst, gehören dir sowieso die Pferde,
Rinder und Schafe!”
“Du böser, unbarmherziger Hund!”, schalt Lang
Senqian. “Du wagst es, so hinterlistig und grausam
zu sein!” Er hüpfte heftig hin und her, so dass dem
Qila Kanduo der kalte Schweiß ausbrach und er vor
Schmerzen weder aus noch ein wusste.
“Du kamst nicht herauf, als ich dich dazu auf-
forderte,” schrie der Hund. “Du kamst nicht nach
unten, als ich dich dazu aufforderte. Du kamst nicht
heraus, als ich dich dazu aufforderte. Ich werde am
Dancuo-See Wasser trinken und dich wie Dünn-
schiss ausschwemmen!” Er rannte zum Dancuo-
See und tat drei gierige Züge, wodurch das Wasser
des Sees um drei Fuß sank. Fast alles, was sich im
Rauch und Darm des Hundes befand, wurde her-
ausgeschwemmt, Lang Senqian aber hockte noch
^mer auf dem Herzen, wälzte sich hin und her
ünd gönnte dem Hund keine Linderung. In seiner
^ut war Qila Kanduo entschlossen, sein Leben zu
°Pfem, damit sie gemeinsam zugrunde gingen. Er
streckte sich aus, biss die Zähne fest zusammen und
starb steif auf dem Boden liegend.
Da das Maul des Hundes fest geschlossen war,
hrang keine Luft mehr in das Innere des Körpers;
Lang Senqian drohte zu ersticken und schrie mit
ersterbender Stimme:
Großherziger und gütiger Vater,
großherzige und gütige Mutter,
großherzige und gütige ältere Schwester,
eschützt ihr mich denn nicht so, wie die Mütze den
°Pf, die Schuhe die Füße oder die Wimpern die Augen
^schützen?
0 bleibt ihr denn?
°rnrnt ihr schnell, so rettet ihr ein Leben,
saumt ihr, dann findet ihr nur meinen Leichnam.
°gleich verwandelte sich Qiangqiang Tawei in ei-
|\en Donnerschlag, der, vom Himmel dröhnend, den
D°Pf des Hundes zerschmetterte und Lang Senqian
aus
seiner Not befreite.
, schädlichen Dämpfe im Bauch des Hundes
atten Lang Senqian verunreinigt und hinderten ihn
Anth
daran, wieder so groß zu werden wie zuvor. Qiang-
qiang Tawei ließ heilige Schriften, eine Ritualglo-
cke und eine Sanduhrtrommel aus den Lüften herab
und hielt ihren Bruder dazu an, mit Gebeten die
bösen Einflüsse zu beseitigen und den Körper zu
reinigen. Sie verwandelte sich in ein kleines Vö-
gelchen und flog zu Sangdang und Gangji: “Weint
nicht, der Hund ist am Dancuo-See verendet. Seid
unbesorgt! Euer Sohn ist wohlauf, aber die schäd-
lichen Dämpfe des Hundes haben ihn an Leib und
Seele verunreinigt. Eilt mit einem gereinigten Be-
cken zum Dancuo-See und wascht ihn mit reinem
Wasser.”
Sangdang und Gangji trockneten ihre Tränen
und liefen mit einem sauberen Becken, reinem
Wasser und Thujabaumzweigen zu dem See, wo
sie den Sohn wuschen. Die Waschung und die Ge-
bete ließen ihn wieder wachsen, bis er erneut so
groß war wie zuvor. Er sprach zu seinen Eltern:
“Großherzige und gütige Eltern, setzt den Kopf des
Hundes wieder zusammen und legt ihn als Op-
fergabe mit Blick auf Emuyinkuan am roten Obo
auf dem Gipfel des Götterberges nieder.” Sangdang
und Gangji handelten entsprechend, und als Ake
Chaotong vor die Tür trat und zum roten Obo auf
dem Götterberg hinaufsah, war ihm, als läge dort
Qila Kanduo. Er begann vor Schreck zu zittern
und dachte: “Habe ich König Chizan nicht klar
und deutlich gesagt, er solle Qila Kanduo nach
Lang Seroukeka schicken, damit er das Mangan xili
frisst. Nun aber ist er hierher gekommen und beob-
achtet mein Emuyinkuan. Will er etwa mich fres-
sen?” Ake Chaotong machte sich Mut und ließ Pfeil
und Bogen bringen, um den streunenden Hund tot-
zuschießen. Denn er war ein Meisterschütze, der
nie sein Ziel verfehlte: Wenn in über 100 Schritt
Entfernung 50 Kupfermünzen als Ziel angebracht
wurden, so traf jeder seiner Pfeile mit Sicherheit
eine Münze. Ake Chaotongs erster Pfeil traf den
Hundekopf, der sich leicht bewegte. Beim zweiten
Schuss kam der Kopf ins Rutschen und beim dritten
Treffer rollte er vom Obo herab und damit war klar,
dass der Hund tot war!
Seitdem Ake Chaotong König war, wirkte er ge-
hetzt und fahrig. Hatte er etwas zu erledigen, so
nahm er sich oft nicht die Zeit, die Schuhe an-
zuziehen, sondern zog nur einen an und lief mit
dem anderen in der Hand los. Nun schlug er den
Gong, rief die Häuptlinge und das Volk zusammen,
schleifte den Hundekopf herbei und prahlte: “Chi-
zan, der Herr über das Reich der Ungeheuer, hat
seinen bösartigen Hund Qila Kanduo losgeschickt,
damit er den gerade erst geborenen Lang Senqian
frisst. Ich habe ihn getötet und ihm den Kopf abge-
schnitten. Kommt und seht, das ist doch etwas ganz
lroPos 101.2006
494
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
Besonderes!” Das Volk und seine Anführer fielen
auf diesen Bluff herein und glaubten ihm. Sie waren
nun der Meinung, dass sie Ake Chaotong Unrecht
getan hatten. Denn alle waren überzeugt gewesen,
dass Ake Chaotong und König Chizan gemeinsame
Sache machten und Lang Senqian töten wollten. Da
er aber den Hund getötet hatte, hatte er bewiesen,
dass er Lang Senqian schützte! Es wäre also nicht
nötig gewesen, Sangdang und Gangji hinter seinem
Rücken mit Fleisch und Milch zu versorgen! Ake
Chaotong hingegen hatte nicht erwartet, dass die
kleinen Häuptlinge und deren Untertanen sich von
ihm ab- und den beiden zugewandt hatten. Er muss-
te von nun an ein doppeltes Spiel spielen! Und so
fuhr er fort, seine Untergebenen zu täuschen, wäh-
rend er insgeheim Mordpläne schmiedete.
Ake Chaotong eilte ein drittes Mal nach Lang
Seroukeka und war außer sich vor Wut, als er sah,
welch erbärmlichen Anblick der Kadaver des Qila
Kanduo bot. Den Eltern des Lang Senqian gegen-
über aber gab er vor, sich zu freuen und heuchelte:
“Dreimal habe ich König Chizan gewarnt! Da hier
Lang Senqian geboren wurde, habe ich ihn aufge-
fordert, auf Xiala Xianiang, Qila Kanduo und was
er sonst noch an dämonischen Vögeln und schar-
fen Hunden hat, gut aufzupassen, damit sie nicht
nach Lang Seroukeka laufen und den Kleinen töten.
Aber er hört einfach nicht zu! Es geschieht ihm
recht, dass sein Dämonenvogel und sein Hund hier
jämmerlich zugrunde gingen!” Anschließend eilte
er ins Reich der Ungeheuer zu König Chizan.
Unterwegs dachte er darüber nach, wie wunder-
lich es in der Welt doch zuging: Er hatte nichts
unversucht gelassen und König Chizan veranlasst,
den Raben und den Hund zu hetzen, in der Hoff-
nung, das eben geborene Mangan xili so schnell
wie möglich aus der Welt zu schaffen; er war ohne
Rücksicht vorgegangen und hatte auf rohe Gewalt
gesetzt. Und doch wenden sich die Untertanen und
seine Häuptlinge von ihm ab und dem Mangan xili
zu und versorgen es mit Kleidung und Nahrung!
Falls er es nicht schnellstens aus dem Weg räumte,
würden sich die Untertanen und ihre Häuptlinge auf
dessen Seite stellen und er wäre die längste Zeit
König gewesen!
Schiefmäulig sprach Ake Chaotong zu König
Chizan: “König Chizan! Ihr habt Euch die Mühe
gemacht, Xiala Xianiang, Euren besten General,
zu entsenden, und der ist in Lang Seroukeka auf
tragische Weise umgekommen. Auch Eurem zweit-
besten General, Qila Kanduo, ist es nicht besser
ergangen. Wenn es jetzt schon so viel Mühe macht,
den erst 15 Tage alten Säugling zu bezwingen, dann
wird er bestimmt Euer schlimmster Rivale wer-
den, wenn er erst erwachsen ist! Mir ist zwar ein
Neffe geboren, der mir eine wirksame Hilfe sein
wird, Euch aber wird er ein Feind sein! Nehmt das
nicht auf die leichte Schulter! Ich denke, es war
der Sache nicht dienlich, Heerführer von der Art
des Raben oder des Hundes zu entsenden; es wäre
besser, einen fähigen und tüchtigen Heerführer zu
beauftragen, ihn schleunigst zu vernichten!”
König Chizan spürte, dass Ake Chaotong Recht
hatte, und beschloss daher, das Mangan xili selbst
zu töten. Er antwortete: “Großkönig Ake Chaotong,
du bist einmal hierher geeilt, du bist ein zweites
Mal hierher geeilt und jetzt ist es bereits das dritte
Mal: Du gibst dir sehr viel Mühe. Was du sagst, hat
Hand und Fuß und du meinst es gut mit mir! Ich
danke dir sehr. Mein erster General Xiala Xianiang
ist in Lang Seroukeka umgekommen, auch mein
zweiter General Qila Kanduo ist dort umgekom-
men. Dies beweist, dass das neugeborene Mangan
xili tatsächlich der Löwe von Lang und ein außer-
gewöhnliches Wesen ist. Er ist schon jetzt mein
ärgster Feind; es ist nicht nötig, davon zu sprechen,
was noch werden wird! Wird er jetzt nicht getötet,
dann hat das unabsehbare Folgen! Ich werde mor-
gen selbst gegen ihn ziehen und du wirst die frohe
Botschaft vernehmen, dass ich ihn binnen drei Ta-
gen wie eine Hühnerfeder durch die Luft wirbeln
und ihn wie Staub nach allen Richtungen hin ver-
streuen werde! Kehre in dein Emuyinkuan zurück
und warte auf die frohe Botschaft!”
Wieder sprach Lang Senqian am Abend zu sei-
nen Eltern:
Mein großherziger und gütiger Vater,
meine großherzige und gütige Mutter.
Am morgigen Tage
wird der Großkönig Chizan zu Pferde reitend aufbrechen.
Wenn der Großkönig Chizan kommt,
dann gibt’s für uns keinen Ausweg.
Es steht fest, dass ich ein bitteres Los zu tragen habe,
und daher großes Unheil über uns hereinbrechen wird.
Bitte setzt das Zelt instand,
verkleinert den Eingang,
pflanzt vor dem Zelt zwei Pferdeanbindestangen auf,
und schlagt waagrecht in diese Stangen Holzpflöcke ein-
Über das Weitere braucht ihr euch nicht den Kopf zU
zerbrechen,
ich weiß schon, wie ich mit ihm umzugehen habe.
Geht ihr hundert Meilen weit fort,
und macht euch keine Sorgen um mich.
Am folgenden Morgen stellten Sangdang und Ganji
die Pferdestangen auf, verkleinerten den Zeltein'
gang und liefen fort.
Chizan setzte seinen silbernen Helm auf, lߣ'
te seinen eisernen Harnisch an, hängte sich B°'
gen und Köcher um und schwang sich auf sein
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
495
Streitross. Majestätisch und furchteinflößend ritt er
schnell wie der Wind nach Lang Seroukeka. Dort
fand er nur ein schäbiges Yakhaarzelt vor. Um
das Zelt herum waren die Federn des Xiala Xiani-
ang verstreut oder trieben im Wind, und auch der
verstümmelte Kadaver des Qila Kanduo lag dort.
Großkönig Chizan stieg die Galle hoch und er sang:
Wie grauenvoll starb Xiala Xianiang,
mit den verstreuten Federn spielt der Wind.
Auf welch fürchterliche Weise kam Qila Kanduo um,
den Anblick seines zerstückelten Kadavers ertrage ich
nicht.
Sehe ich Xiala Xianiang, schmerzt mich der Anblick
zutiefst,
sehe ich Qila Kanduo, dann kocht in mir die Wut!
Mangan xili, wo bist du?
Komm heraus und kämpfe mit mir um dein Leben!
Im Zelt antwortete Lang Senqian:
Ich bin ein Säugling und noch keinen Monat alt,
mein Körper ist klein, zart und schwach,
er scheut Wind, Regen und Sonne.
Wenn du Mut hast, so tritt doch bitte ein,
und wir kämpfen im Zelt auf Leben und Tod!
Als der Großkönig Chizan aus dem Reich der Un-
geheuer hörte, dass der Säugling ihm aus dem Zelt
zurief, “wenn du Mut hast, so tritt bitte ein und
kämpfe im Zelt auf Leben und Tod”, war er über-
zeugt, dass das Mangan xili sich dort versteckte und
bicht wagte, herauszukommen. Er stieg vom Pferd,
band es an die Pferdestange, aber als er in das Zelt
treten wollte, stellte er fest, dass der Eingang viel zu
Schmal war; es gab aber keine andere Möglichkeit,
ms Zelt zu kommen. Ohne sich lange zu bedenken,
^egte er seine Rüstung ab, hängte sie an die zwei-
te Pferdestange und zwängte sich nun nackt und
bloß durch den Eingang. Im Zelt holte er aus um
Züzuschlagen, er fand jedoch kein Ziel. Er riss sein
Maul auf um zu fressen, er fand aber niemanden,
ben er hätte fressen können. Er blickte um sich
ünd stellte fest, dass das Zelt leer war! Vor dem
^elt aber rief ihn jemand: Lang Senqian war aus
bern Zelt geschlüpft, als König Chizan es betrat, er
hatte dessen Rüstung angelegt, seinen Bogen und
Seinen Köcher über die Schulter gehängt und hatte
mit dem Dämonenpferd [moma] pfeilschnell drei
^gedehnte Runden in der weiten Sandebene von
Wran gedreht. Dann rief er laut: “Das schwarze
Ungeheuer Großkönig Chizan ist tot! Seine Rüs-
tung,
sein Bogen, seine Pfeile und sein Streitross
Würden mir unterwürfig als Gabe überbracht!”
. Er ritt so scharf, dass dem Pferd der Schweiß
Regen vom Körper troff und es zuletzt mit sei-
Wthr,
°P0S 101.2006
nen Kräften am Ende war. Es flehte Lang Senqian
an: “Löwen-Großkönig des Reiches Ling, Gesar,
Großkönig von Lang! Es war nicht mein Wille,
nach Lang Seroukeka zu kommen, sondern mein
Herr hat mich mit Zaumzeug und Lederpeitsche
dazu gezwungen. Jetzt habe ich diese weite Ebene
dreimal umrundet, mir läuft der Schweiß wie Re-
gen herab und vor Erschöpfung bekomme ich keine
Luft mehr. Ich kann nicht mehr! Bitte schone mich!
Ich schwöre dir: Nicht ich bin dein Todfeind, son-
dern Chizan, der König der schwarzen Ungeheu-
er! Wenn ihr kämpft und du zu unterliegen drohst,
wird auf der Flucht vor König Chizan bestimmt
mein Hinterteil zerschlagen werden, dennoch wer-
de ich dafür sorgen, dass er dich nicht einholt. Un-
terliegt dagegen König Chizan und verfolgst du ihn,
wird mein Hinterteil bestimmt in Fetzen gehauen
werden, aber ich werde so schnell laufen, dass du
ihn einholst. Bitte, Lang Senqian, schone mich, ich
werde dir Gutes nicht mit Bösem vergelten!”
Lang Senqian hörte die Rede des Dämonenpfer-
des und sah ein, dass es sinnlos war, es zu quälen,
da sein Feind das schwarze Ungeheuer Chizan war
und nicht dessen Pferd, das mit der Peitsche ge-
zwungen worden war zu kommen: Er verzieh ihm
und saß ab.
Als Chizan, König des Reiches der Ungeheu-
er, vors Zelt trat und sah, dass sein Harnisch, sein
Helm, sein Bogen und seine Pfeile verschwunden
waren und jemand rief, “König Chizan ist tot”, als
er sah, dass sein Pferd auf der Sandebene zitternd
und um Gnade flehend einen Schwur leistete, er-
schrak er zu Tode und rief ohne sich lange zu be-
sinnen;
Großkönig Lang Senqian,
immer und immer wieder,
insgesamt dreimal habe ich dir Schaden zugefügt.
Ursprünglich hatte ich nicht die Absicht, dir zu schaden,
es lag nur an Ake Chaotong und seinen verleumderischen
Reden,
er hat Zwietracht gesät und mich aufgehetzt,
durch Betrug hat er mich getäuscht,
durch Hetze hat er mich aufgestachelt!
Es ist meine Schuld, dass ich auf ihn gehört habe,
es ist meine Schuld, dass ich dreimal versucht habe, dir
zu schaden.
Bitte gib mir meinen silbernen Helm zurück,
bitte gib mir meinen eisernen Harnisch zurück,
bitte gib mir Pfeil und Bogen zurück,
bitte gib mir mein Dämonenpferd zurück.
Greifst du mich in Zukunft nicht an,
so schwöre ich, dass auch ich dich niemals angreifen
werde!
Die Worte des schwarzen Ungeheuers Chizan deck-
ten die finsteren Machenschaften des Ake Chao-
496
Bruno J. Richtsfeld
tong auf. Großmütig gab Lang Senqian König Chi-
zan das Pferd, die Rüstung, die Pfeile und den Bo-
gen zurück und gestattete ihm die Rückkehr in das
Reich der Ungeheuer [moguo]. Chizan nahm Rüs-
tung und Pferd sowie Köcher und Bogen entgegen
und eilte fort, wobei er aus Furcht und Scham nicht
wagte, sich nochmals umzusehen.
Das schwarze Ungeheuer König Chizan hörte
von da an nicht mehr auf die Verleumdungen des
Ake Chaotong, dessen Plan, Lang Senqian mit Hil-
fe des Königs Chizan zu töten, zur Gänze fehlge-
schlagen war!
(Fortsetzung folgt)
Abkürzungen
AaTh: Aarne, Antti, and Stith Thompson 1981
Chin.: chinesisch
Mong.: monguor
Mongol. : mongolisch
OA: Orginalanmerkung, d. h. Anmerkung in der
chinesischen Vorlage
ThBa: Thompson, Stith, and Jonas Balys 1958
ThRo: Thompson, Stith, and Warren E. Roberts
1960
Tib.: tibetisch
Zitierte Literatur
Autorenkollektiv
1984 Zangzu minjian gushi xuan [Erzählungen der Tibeter].
Shanghai: Shanghai wenyi chubanshe. (Zhongguo sha-
oshu minzu minjian wenxue congshu, gushi daxi)
1988 Gesa’r yanjiu [Gesarstudien], Bd3. Peking: Zhongguo
minjian wenyi chubanshe.
Bielmeier, Roland, und Silke Herrmann
1982 Märchen, Sagen und Schwänke vom Dach der Welt. Ti-
betisches Erzählgut in Deutscher Fassung. Bd. 3: Vieh-
züchtererzählungen sowie Erzählgut aus sKyid-groh und
Dih-ri. Sankt Augustin: VGH Wissenschaftsverlag. (Bei-
träge zur tibetischen Erzählforschung, 3)
David-Néel, Alexandra, et Lama Yongden
1995 La vie surhumaine de Guésar de Ling, le héros thibétain.
Racontée par les bardes de son pays. Paris: Editions du
Rocher. (Pocket, 2914) [1931]
Francke, A. H.
1968 Der Frühlings- und Wintermythus der Kesarsage. Beiträ-
ge zur Kenntnis der vorbuddhistischen Religion Tibets
und Ladakhs. Osnabrück: Otto Zeller. (Mémoires de la
Société Finno-Ougrienne, 15) [Reprint der Ausgabe von
1902]
Hecht, Dorothea
1965 Politische Struktur und Gewaltenteilung im Sakralen
Königtum in Afrika. Saeculum 16: 343-356.
Heissig, Walther
1977 Dominik Schröders nachgelassene Monguor (Tu-jen)-
Version eines Geser Khan-Epos aus Amdo. Zentralasia-
tische Studien 11; 287-299.
1983 Geser-Studien. Untersuchungen zu den Erzählstoffen in
den “neuen” Kapiteln des mongolischen Geser-Zyklus.
Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag. (Abhandlungen der
Rheinisch-Westfälischen Akademie der Wissenschaften,
69)
2000 Individuelles und traditionelles Erzählen. Der mongo-
lische Erzähler Coyrub (Coyirub) aus Ordus (1912—
1989). Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz Verlag. (Asiati-
sche Forschungen, 136)
2003 Motive und Analysen mongolischer Märchen. Wiesba-
den: Otto Harrassowitz Verlag. (Asiatische Forschungen,
146)
Heissig, Walther (Hrsg.)
1980 Geser Rëdzia-wu. Dominik Schröders nachgelassene
Monguor (Tujen)-Version des Geser-Epos aus Amdo in
Facsimilia und mit einer Einleitung herausgegeben von
Walther Heissig. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz. (Asiati-
sche Forschungen, 70)
Hermanns, Matthias
1952 Tibetische Dialekte von A mdo. Anthmpos 47: 193-202.
1965 Das National-Epos der Tibeter gLing König Ge sar.
Regensburg: Verlag Josef Habbel.
Herrmann, Silke
1989 Erzählungen und Dialekt von Dinri. Bonn: VGH Wis-
senschaftsverlag. (Beiträge zur tibetischen Erzählfor-
schung, 9)
Jiangbian Jiacuo [*Jampal Gyatso; ’jam-dpal rgya-mtsho],
et al. (Hrsg.)
1986 “Gesa’r wang zhuan” yanjiu wenji [Untersuchungen
zum “Gesar rnam-thar”]. Bd 1. Chengdu: Sichuan minzu
chubanshe.
Kretschmar, Monika
1982 Märchen, Sagen und Schwänke vom Dach der Welt-
Tibetisches Erzählgut in Deutscher Fassung. Bd. 2: Er-
zählungen westtibetischer Viehzüchter. Sankt Augustin:
VGH Wissenschaftsverlag. (Beiträge zur tibetischen Er-
zählforschung, 2)
1986 Erzählungen und Dialekt der Drokpas aus Südwest-
Tibet. Sankt Augustin: VGH Wissenschaftsverlag. (Bei-
träge zur tibetischen Erzählforschung, 8)
Li Keyu
1992 Tuzu (Menggu’r) yuanliu kao [Untersuchungen zur Eth-
nogenese und historischen Entwicklung der Tu (Mon-
guor)]. Sining: Qinghai renmin zhubanshe.
Li Rong, und Zhang Chengcai (Hrsg.)
1994 Xining fangyan cidian [Wörterbuch des Dialektes von
Sining], Nanking: Jiangsu jiaoyu chubanshe. (Xiandai
Hanyu fangyan da cidian)
Macdonald, A. W.
1967 Matériaux pour l’étude de la littérature populaire tibé-
taine. I ; Édition et traduction de deux manuscrits tibé-
tains des “Histoires du cadavre”. Paris : Presses Univer-
sitaires de France. (Annales du Musée Guimet, Biblio-
thèque d’Études, 72)
Phukang, Jampa K., und Peter Schwieger
1982 Märchen, Sagen und Schwänke vom Dach der Welt. Ti-
betisches Erzählgut in Deutscher Fassung. Bd. 4: Erzähl-
gut aus A-mdo und Brag-g.yab. Sankt Augustin: VGB
Anthropos 101.2006
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai)
497
Wissenschaftsverlag. (Beiträge zur tibetischen Erzähl-
forschung, 4)
Richtsfeld, Bruno J.
2002 Geser-Khan-Sagen aus dem Tsaidam-Gebiet (VR China,
Provinz Qinghai). Münchner Beiträge zur Völkerkunde
7: 187-246.
2004a Gesar-Überlieferungen der Monguor (Tu). Tribus 53:
99-117.
2004b Lu-e-e. Ein Flut- und Ursprungsmythos der Mongolen
im Grenzgebiet der chinesischen Provinzen Sichuan und
Yunnan. Zentralasiatische Studien 33: 163-193.
2004c Rezente ostmongolische Schöpfungs-, Ursprungs- und
Weltkatastrophenerzählungen und ihre innerasiatischen
Motiv- und Sujetparallelen. Münchner Beiträge zur Völ-
kerkunde 9: 225-274.
Schmidt, LJ.
1966 Die Thaten Bogda Gesser Chan’s, des Vertilgers der
Wurzel der zehn Übel in den zehn Gegenden. Eine ost-
asiatische Heldensage, aus dem Mongolischen übersetzt.
Osnabrück: Otto Zeller. [Neudruck der Ausgabe von
1839]
Schram, Louis M. J.
1957 The Monguors of the Kansu-Tibetan Border. Part 2:
Their Religious Life. Philadelphia: The American Philo-
sophical Society. (Transactions of the American Philo-
sophical Society, 47/1)
Schröder, Dominik
1952-53 Zur Religion der Tujen des Sininggebietes (Kuku-
nor). Anthropos 47: 1 -79 [Sonderdruck: mit Lebenslauf
auf der unpaginierten letzten Seite (S. 80)], 620-658,
822-870; Anthropos 48: 202-259.
1959 Aus der Volksdichtung der Monguor. 1. Teil: Das wei-
ße Glücksschaf (Mythen, Märchen, Lieder). Wiesbaden:
Otto Harrassowitz. (Asiatische Forschungen, 6)
Tong Jinhua
1986 Yingxiong shishi “GesaT zhuan” [Das Heldenepos “Ge-
sar mam-thar”]. In: Jiangbian Jiacuo etal. (Hrsg.);
pp. 48-69. [Reprint von 1981]
Wang Gui
1991 Zangzu renming yanjiu [Untersuchungen zum tibeti-
schen Personennamen], Peking: Renmin chubanshe.
Wang Xingxian
1988 Tuzu shishi “Gesa’r namuta‘r” shulun [A Commentary
on Tu People’s Epic King Gesar], In: Autorenkollektiv;
pp. 20-40.
Xu Guoqiong
1986 Zangzu shishi “Gesa’r wang zhuan” [Das tibetische Epos
“Gesar rnam-thar”]. In: Jiangbian Jiacuo etal. (Hrsg.);
pp. 32-47. [Reprint von 1959]
Yang Enhong
1988 Tu zu diqu liuchuan zhe “Gesa’er wang zhuan” tanwei.
[Engl. Untertitel; A Survey of King Gesar Disseminating
among Tu People], In: Autorenkollektiv; pp. 1-19.
Yang Si
1987 Zum “Gesar” im Gebiet des Munguor (Tu)-Volkes.
Zentralasiatische Studien 20: 28-31.
^nthr
'°Pos 101.2006
A Semi-Annual Journal
/¿SIAN
Folklore
Studies
Founder
Matthias Eder
Editor
Peter Knecht
Selected Topics from Volume lxiv-i, 2005
Maithil Womens Perspectives and Practices in the
Festival of Sämä Cakevä (Nepal)
Urban Adaptation of the Paharia in Rajshahi (Bangladesh)
Bridal Laments in Rural Hong Kong
Folk Religion and Gender Relationships in Rural China
Silkworms and Consorts in Nara Japan
Proposed Topics for Volume lxiv-2, 2005
Zhu Yingtai Lore: Cross-Dressing, Gender, and Sex (China)
Horses, Spirits, and Disease in Ancient Japan
Hmong-American Oral Culture Tradition
Shuten Döji: Drunken Demon (Japan)
From Ritual Dance to Folk Dance (Turkey)
Subscription rates for two issues/year:
Institutions US $40.00
Individuals US $22.00
Address all inquiries to:
Anthropological Institute
Nanzan University
18 Yamazato-cho, Showa-ku
Nagoya, 466-8673
JAPAN
ANTHROPOS
101.2006: 499-518
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
Its Past and Current Importance
Nguyen Xuan Hien
Abstract. - Betel-chewing is an important age-old custom in
Vietnam, which is in decline. The author argues that areca nuts
and betel leaves play still a significant role in modem weddings
and rituals and are also used in medicine and in diverse indus-
tries. The areca tree, the betel vine, and the lime pot are con-
sidered like family members and treated with deep respect. The
betel service, especially the lime pot, is a specific identity marker
°f Vietnamese culture. Folktales reflect on the various aspects
°f the betel-chewing practice. The author presents an English
translation of the oldest version of such tales. [Vietnam, betel
service, betel-chewing, rituals, cultural ceremonies, folktales]
Nguyen Xuán Hién, Ph. D., trained as a rice germ plasm sci-
entist, a historian, and an information specialist, has extensively
researched and lectured on rice (genetics and ethnobotany) and
recently on cultural anthropology in several Asian, European,
a°d American countries. - Publications: “Glutinous Rice-Eating
tradition in Vietnam and Elsewhere” (Bangkok 2001); “L’an-
thropologic culturelle et le riz au Vietnam” (vol. 1, Paris 2001);
Cultural Anthropology and Rice in Vietnam” (vol. 2, Ann Ar-
bor 2004).
* Introduction
Several hundred million people today practice the
ancient custom of betel-chewing. In South Asia,
where the habit is most prevalent, the signs are hard
to miss,” D. Parsed (2005: 43) states thus the situa-
tion in the early 21st century. A decade ago, another
anthor confirmed: “Few traditions in South-East
^sia have the antiquity and universal acceptance of
betel-chewing. The custom is over 2,000 years old
arid has survived from ancient times into the 20th
century” (Rooney 1993: 1).
In Vietnam, betel-chewing is an age-old custom,
too. This country is not situated in the domestica-
tion areas of the areca palm tree which are located
somewhere in Malaysian archipelagoes.1 The Viet-
namese are not the people who were the first dis-
coverers of the fascination of betel-chewing. Skele-
tons bearing evidence of betel-chewing date back
to about 3,000 B.C. and were found in the Duyong
Cave in the Philippines. The Vietnamese chew-
ing addicts’ number does not rank among the first
places in the list of high-percentage-chewers’ coun-
tries that are Pakistan, India, and Taiwan where
people continue to chew betel to a great extent and
“many new betel users are adolescents and chil-
dren” (Parsed 2005: 43). Even though this custom
is deeply rooted in Vietnamese society and culture,
it is more than a tangible matter and always consid-
ered as an element of national identity and prestige.
These marvelous particularities are, however, un-
derrepresented in Vietnam and little known abroad
due to the “monopoly” in international documenta-
tion of this custom by non-chewing outsiders.
In this article we try to present some peculiari-
ties of the Vietnamese betel-chewing custom in its
evolution and with regard to its multidisciplinary
dimension from the point of view of an insider.
Some 95% of the information was collected in Viet-
1 Remains of what C. F. Gorman (1970: 98) suggested to be
probably areca nuts, dating to 7,000-5,500 B.C., have been
found at the Spirit Cave in northwestern Thailand, but the
clue of their domesticity needs to be scientifically confirmed
(C. F. Gorman, personal communication 1978).
500
Nguyên Xuân Hiên
Fig. 1 : Areca palm trees at the
Le Dynasty Court, about the 17th
century (courtesy National Mu-
seum of Arts, Saigon, 1975).
nam itself and from Vietnamese sources. Our pre-
sentation is based on observation lasting for more
than half of a century and on recent on-the-spot
research, surveys, and interviews (2002-2004).
2 The Past and Present of an Age-Old Custom
2.1 A Millennium-Honored Custom
The Vietnamese were familiar with the areca palm
tree {Areca catechu L.) and its alliance, the be-
tel vine {Piper betle L.), from time immemorial.
Archaeological evidence (skeletons with blackened
teeth, areca nut remains) from the Phung Nguyen,
Dong Dau, and Dong Sdn cultures (from the first
half of the second millennium B.C. to the first mil-
lennium B.C.) suggests locals knew already from
that time on the art of betel-chewing. In the late
Dong Sdn period, a bronze spittoon was excavated
in a brick tomb in the border region between Hai
Diidng and Quang Yen Provinces (North Vietnam).
Ancient Vietnamese literature from the begin-
ning of our era relates that the Vietnamese en-
voy has defended our betel-chewing custom before
the Chinese emperor Zhou Zheng-wang (around
1,100 B.C.) as follows: “betel-chewing is for keep-
ing good sanitary conditions in the mouth there-
fore teeth turned black.” It is also believed that
before the Chinese domination (207 B.C.), the
habits of betel-chewing and teeth blackening were
widespread in the country. In A.D. 990, Song Kao,
the envoy of the Song (Chinese) dynasty, was re-
ceived by the Vietnamese King Le Dai Hanh (941-
1005) and the envoy noted “... the King rides a
horse with me, then he takes betel and areca to
invite his guests, even on horse. This is the tradi-
tion in the reception of honor guests.” Vü Quynh
(1453-?), in his Foreword to our first folktale an-
thology “Linh Nam chích quái liet truyen” (Collec-
tion of Extraordinary Tales from Linh Nam),2 has
written in spring 1492; “in our country, no offerings
are more precious than betel leaves and areca nuts
that represent and promote the conjugal faithfulness
and the fraternal affection” (1695, handwritten ver-
sion).
Father Cristophoro Borri and Father Alexandre
de Rhodes are the two first European eyewitnesses
of the betel-chewing tradition in Vietnam. Borri
wrote on the south (2000 [1631]: 18 f.): “... people
chew betel all day long, not only at home but also
on streets and also while talking, i.e., everywhere
and at all times. People smoke too, but tobacco is
not comparable to betel as regards its popularity.” In
1651 de Rhodes remarked on the north (1999: 38):
“According to a custom people always take at their
belt a bag or a purse full of betel quids and open
it when they get out. Once they meet their friends,
they welcome each other and then they take a well-
prepared quid from their friends’ bag. That is why
in rich families, people order their servants to pre-
pare these tiny presents and they offer them to their
friends as a message of friendship. But for the oth-
ers, who have no servants to prepare these presents
in advance, there are up to fifty thousand [betel]
sellers wide-spread all over the city [Ké Chd, nowa-
days Hanoi], and the price is moderate. We can
estimate from there how great the number of betel
buyers is.”
2 Linh Nam is an ancient literal appellation for Vietnam.
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
501
In Hue royal city, you can still observe nine
bronze eternal urns that were cast in the early 19th
century. Bas-reliefs on these urns represent all typ-
ical landscapes and sights of Vietnam. One still
discovers three areca palm trees on the upper part
of the fourth eternal um and some betel vines on
the upper part, too, of the eighth eternal urn (Sogny
1914).
The betel-chewing custom always captured at-
tention from European travelers; their opinions
were divided to some extent. In 1861 a corre-
spondent of Le Tour du Monde in Saigon noticed:
“[The Vietnamese woman] would be beautiful in
the Europeans’ eyes if she didn’t make her mouth
as black as charcoal.” He predicted: “The betel-
chewing custom continues to divide for a long
time the Asians from the Europeans” (quoted by
Meyer 1996: 264). Later Dr. A. Morice indicated;
‘It is difficult to find a Vietnamese who does not
chew ...” (1997 [1872-1873]: 24f.). J. Silvestre
(1889: 98) was among the few Europeans who ap-
preciated the custom: “This chewing produces a
fresh taste, bitter that is highly nice when you were
a chewer. The saliva then becomes blood-like red;
you feel your brain nerves stimulated and pleas-
antly warm in your breast that makes you comfort-
able and restful.”
^•2 The Once Flourished Practice
The Vietnamese betel quid mainly consists of three
components: a quarter of a peeled areca nut, a he-
ld leaf (sometimes only a half), and a smear of
(white or colored) slaked lime. This composition
hated from the second half of the legendary King
Hung period (some three thousand years ago) if
We believe the folk story about the origin of this
custom. Seemingly, a slice of vo chay (bark of Ar-
tocarpus tonkinensis) is recently added to enhance
Ihe bitterness. Adding tobacco to areca quid is not
^ yery popular custom among Vietnamese chewers.
Seems this manner of chewing increases in quan-
when one moves from the north to the south,
hmulant additives like cardamom, clove, nutmeg,
coriander, ambergris, etc. are never used by the
letnamese who spit out the red saliva and even the
chewed-out quid remains.
Areca palm trees and betel vines are wonder-
ully suitable for the tropical climate of Vietnam,
r°m north to south, except some mountainous re-
§*°ns. Our surveys show that 24 ethnic groups out
d the total of 54 ethnicities that make up the na-
t10n °f 81,4 million inhabitants (UN 2003) prac-
1Ce this habit. But their population counts up to
Anthropos 101.2006
over 95% of the total number of Vietnamese. Upon
these data, we can qualify Vietnam as a country of
betel-chewing, but there are no figures on the num-
ber of chewers available. Otherwise we can divide
these betel-chewing ethnic groups into two cate-
gories; the first is the traditional betel-chewing cat-
egory that embraces such ethnicities as the Viet, the
Cham, the Thay; the second is the optional betel-
chewing category with, for instance, the Sedang,
the Bru, or the San Chay. What makes the dif-
ference between these two categories is that peo-
ple from the first group naturally chewed betel for
centuries and their betel-chewing customs are fully
developed, while people from the second group
only chewed betel occasionally and their customs
did not extend to a respectable population density.
Possibly they just learned to chew by imitation or
contagion from the major ethnicity and/or from
neighboring ethnicities. Some ethnic groups like
the Hmong are residing in an environment unsuit-
able (high elevation, cold weather, misty and frosty
ambiance) for planting areca palm tree and betel
vine; they are condemned to be no-chewers! We de-
scribe here two representatives of these categories.
2.2.1 Category 1
The Cham (category 1) seemingly knew the art of
betel-chewing before the Viet. Indian merchants
and clergy transferred the custom to them. From the
first century A.D. to the fall of the Cham capital
Vijaya (nowadays Do Ban) in 1471, in Champa
kingdom, there were two tribes with areca palms
and coconut palms respectively as their totems. The
Areca tribe resided in the southern area Panduranga
(nowadays Phan Rang) and they were more aristo-
cratic, more respectful than the other. Areca nuts
and betel leaves were representative of their coun-
try. Many times they offered these products as trib-
utes to Vietnam and China. The Chinese author
Lich Dao-nguyen wrote in his “Thuy kinh chu”:
“Traveling to the south3 areca palm tree is the
lonely plant to contemplate” (1944: 234). From the
inscription on the Lai Trung stele (erected round
A.D. 920), we know that in the Champa court there
was a mandarin post called “officer for betel prepar-
ing.” In the court audience, maidens offered betel
to the King and mandarins. In the King Procession,
ten maids brought golden boxes full of dried areca
nuts for the King’s use. Moreover, many architec-
tural monuments and place-names continue to keep
the vestiges of the betel-chewing custom from that
3 Insinuation for Champa.
502
Nguyên Xuân Hiên
glorious time. For example, the pagoda located in
the Areca Cave on the Ré islet (in the seashore of
Quàng Nam Province) is believed to be built up
from Champa period. Some Cham towers were dec-
orated with betel-leaf motifs in their bas-relief. On
a Spirit statue the shield was symbolized by an en-
larged base of the areca-leaf petiole and the sword
was symbolized by a petiole of the coconut leaf.
Therefore, until recently this area remains one
of the most concentrated areca-growing regions in
Vietnam. Lê Quÿ Don noted in 1776: “At the foot
of the Hài Vân pass [between Hué and Dà Nang]
as well as in Quàng Nam Province, areca palms
are planted too dense and too numerous up to the
point that looked like a forest; nuts are too old,
nut cover is too dark, locals take only the nuts, put
them together as high as a hill. Ships are loaded
with these nuts and sail back to Kwangtung [South
Chinai where people use [drink] them as thee”
(1977 [1776]: 323).
At the beginning of the 20th century, the French
priest E. M. Durand (1903; 56) observed the use of
baskets woven with roots from wild areca palms by
the Cham Bani in Thuân Hài Province. That means,
at that time, wild or more precisely bewildered
areca palm trees existed probably in the region.
Tam Lang, a renowned journalist prior to World
War II, noted in his reportage: “The Cham don’t
smoke opium but they chew betel with tobacco.
Men and women chew quid after quid all day
round. Some people chew up to several tens of quid
a day” (1941:24). “[Nowadays] betel-chewing is
very important to [Châm] people’s daily life” (Dai
gia âînh 2002: 16).
The ritual role of betel and areca is fully seen
at wedding ceremonies, which are condensed man-
ifestations of ethnic, spiritual, cultural, traditional,
religious, and musical customs and meanings that
symbolize the people’s identity. The Cham from
Ninh Thuân Province still observe numerous ritu-
als related to betel and areca. According to their
belief, betel vine and leaf belong to yin, while areca
and lime belong to yang. Betel rolls for a religious
celebration must be round-rolled, and those for a
wedding must be flat-rolled. In their wedding cer-
emony, the bronze betel box and the wooden to-
bacco box are the two most important elements.
When the shaman makes his oration, the bride and
the groom put their hands open between these two
boxes. Once the groom enters his sweetie’s recep-
tion hall, the bride chooses a perfect betel-leaf, cuts
it into two equal parts, smears pink slaked lime on
them, and hands one part to her sweetie. After that,
the groom chooses a round areca nut, splits it into
two equal parts, then hands one part to his sweetie.
The two youngsters begin to chew these dual quids.
If they get much saliva and their saliva turns bright
red, that is the wonderful omen for their future. All
village dignitaries as well as the shamans and their
attendants each receive a tray full of food. There
is also a dish of areca and betel. This subgroup
of the Cham ethnicity is the direct descendant of
the 15th-century Areca tribe. They are Brahmins.
The Cham from An Giang Province are Muslims.
According to their Islamic teachings, betel is a bad
odor generator, even though they remain honoring
betel and areca at holy places such as at the foot of
the main column in their house.
2.2.2 Category 2
The elderly from the San Chay ethnicity (cate-
gory 2) residing in Thai Nguyen Province continue
to chew betel and their denture remains as black as
just blackened. Areca palm trees are growing in the
midst of fan palms that are the typical trees in this
area.
Although their immigration from China to North
Vietnam dates back to no more than four cen-
turies, the betel and areca play a crucial role in
their wedding ceremonies. They are the two main
presents in all five steps of the wedding ceremony
that are; 1) “Proposal Feast,” 2) “Definitive Con-
clusion Feast,” 3) “Fees Paying Feast,” 4) “Feast
for the Bride Entering Her Husband’s Family,” and
5) “Presents Returning [to the Husband’s Family]
Feast.” The number of leaves and nuts, i.e., from
two up to some tens, depends on the wealth of
the groom’s family. Betel leaves and areca nuts are
carefully wrapped up in fresh banana leaves and
bound with glutinous rice straw. Along the road to
the bride’s family the “eldest official,” the “bride-
introducing girl,” and the “youngest official” must
offer betel quid to all villagers whom they meet on
the road; this quid transmits the message announc-
ing the wedding, wishing happiness for the couple
and gladness for both families. At the porch of the
bride’s family children stop the procession in order
to get some presents. These three representatives
must, once again, distribute areca nuts. Each child
receives a nut, regardless of his or her age; then
the children clear the obstacle that normally is a
bamboo stock or a banana sting. At the step toward
the reception chamber of the bride’s house, a couple
of girls or women from the bride’s family stop the
procession by singing:
A bamboo branch with curve top,
A sharp knife for easily cutting.
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
503
Fig. 2: The skill of preparing be-
tel is transferred from generation
to generation. The Miidng (cour-
tesy of Dr. Tran Tien, Hoa Binh,
1999).
If you who are a quan lang bring in betel leaves, then,
please, come in.
If you don’t have betel leaves with you, please, come
back tomorrow ...
Returning to the groom’s family the procession
(this time with the bride and some of her family
members) must stop at the porch of the groom’s
bouse. The groom’s relatives (mostly the groom’s
mints and/or the groom’s sisters) take in a hurry
many betel boxes with plentiful well-prepared
fluids, rush to the guests, and offer them betel quids.
Everyone is chewing betel and enters the reception
chamber. The person who does not chew betel is
Hot permitted to enter.
The groom’s mother prepares the nuptial bed
^ith a brand-new, attractive reed mat; she puts a
Pair of areca nuts at each corner of the mat and
another pair of nuts at the mat’s middle point.
The newly married couple gather all these areca
nuts, put them on a dish, and then put the dish on
ibe ancestors’ altar; they must chew all these nuts
baring their first night living together.
Three days after the wedding feast, the groom’s
family organizes a great feast aiming at recognizing
Ihe bride as a family member. After this feast, betel,
areca, and other presents are distributed once again
|° acquaintances and family members; that is the
ast step of the wedding ceremony.
Nowadays the wedding ceremony is simplified,
bht the role of areca and betel remains the same as
ln the past.
muh
The “Betel Roll Preparation” is a real art, with
all respectful meanings of this word. A. Landes
(1885b: 363) has already recognized that “It is a
great art and it is not everyone who can prepare
a betel roll that meets all the requirements [of a
roll]. In Annam [then North and Central Vietnam]
the roll is in regular form and smaller than that
in our provinces [South Vietnam]. There people
do not offer a whole plate full of betel leaves and
areca but some rolls. Through the elegance [of
these rolls] the skillfulness of great family ladies
is discovered.” In fact, ladies from high-ranking
families could not cook rice and prepare dishes,
but they should master the art of betel preparing.
This skill is more important to ladies living in the
Royal Palace. Before World War II and in cities like
Hanoi, Nam Dinh, Hue the first thing a lady did in
the early morning was shopping for completing the
betel box (personal observation).
Some people can prepare the betel roll in varied
forms, for example, trail cdnh phuang (in phoenix
wing form), “in flying dragon form,” “in sword
form,” etc. Every locality has its own style in trdu
cdnh phuong preparation. It is not a roll but a quid;
the areca quarter forms the phoenix body, the betel
leaf is cut to the bird’s wings and the vo bark - the
head. But their marvelous skill will be fully demon-
strated when they prepare ordinary rolls: in regular
cylinder form, with nice-to-see size, not too tight,
not too loose, the roll is firm but not hard, attractive
but not gaudy, and, more important, hundred rolls
resemble one another. Otherwise, all other forms’
‘ropos 101.2006
504
Nguyén Xuàn Hién
preparation, if any, is reserved for festivities, ritu-
als that do not occur on a daily basis. The secret
point of preparation resides in the following issue:
lime must be enough, neither too much nor too
little; in the first case, the chewer’s mouth should
be burnt; in the last case, the saliva does not turn
red and the chewer does not enjoy the full taste.
The Vietnamese do not like to incise the husk of
the areca quarter as a lot of people on Indonesian
islands usually do.
The way you prepare the betel quid, especially
the way you roll the betel roll and the way you
husk and split the areca nut, shows your social
class, education level, personal experience, temper-
ament, and aesthetic sense. In the recent past, the
most important topic of the girl’s education, which
was at family level and transferred from mother to
daughter by experience, was the know-how of betel
preparation and betel service care. How to keep
the betel box always full of fresh components, the
betel knife sharp and clean, the spittoon clean, all
these tiny actions demand attention and care, force
and skill, and material and spiritual resources. In
festive events such as the Tet festival, “kind girls
from the streets” were secretly contesting in betel
preparation skill.
The chewers are all day round busy. G. M. Vas-
sal noticed many times that “one of the main duties
[of Vietnamese women] is to fill up the betel box”
(1912: 95, 165, 167). At weddings, funerals, cere-
monies, feasts, etc. there is a large contingent of be-
tel quid makers (sometimes up to ten light-fingered
women) working at full capacity.
In the remote past, betel-chewing and teeth
blackening with lacquer were twins. The first en-
gendered the second. Betel-chewing turned teeth
rose then brown to black, but unevenly. If the chew-
ers wanted to have a black denture as praised in
folksongs and highly appreciated by people, they
had to actively and voluntarily blacken their teeth
by dyeing them. The commoners shared this desire
with the aristocrats. “The teeth [of women from
Hanoi] were dyed up to a shiny black as the cock-
roach wings.” (Triidng Vinh Ky 1982 [1876]: 15).
At the time, “teeth as black as real black beads
of a necklace” or “teeth as black as custard-apple4
seeds” were the most desirable traits of a beautiful
girl. “In the 1920s, most of Hanoi girls had black-
ened teeth” (Vu Ngoc Phan 1993: 137). Recently,
H. Rydstrom still observed in Thinh Tri Commune,
Ha Tay Province; “Black teeth were traditionally
considered more beautiful than white ones as some
of the black-toothed grandmothers in Thinh Tri
4 Annona squamosa L.
Fig. 3: A Miiòng elderly lady (Nguyen Xuàn Hién, Hòa Bình,
2003).
Fig. 4: A Chàm elderly lady (Nguyén Xuàn Hién, Ninh Thuàn,
2004).
told me [Rydstrom]. Moreover, it was previously
a common belief that only evil spirits had Ion»
white teeth, and no one wanted to look like an evil
spirit. Also, blackening is assumed to protect one s
teeth ... Tooth blackening was a kind of fernale
ritual that a girl went through when she was in hei
teens ... I did not observe the practice of tooth
blackening in contemporary Thinh Tri” (2003:153’
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
505
189). But some ethnicities such as the Lit, the Dao
Tien continue to blacken their teeth; blackened den-
ture remains an attractive favorite of female beauty.
2.3 More than a Tangible Custom
Nobody knows how many generations of Viet-
namese have chewed betel, but everyone can see
the sociocultural aspects of the custom. “The be-
tel quid establishes communication,” as the saying
Went not long ago. All social strata, the poor and
the rich, the commoner and the aristocrat, the anal-
phabet and the intellectual accepted the betel quid
in their environment. The betel quid is regarded as
one of the four cardinal pleasures of life. You meet
someone on the road or in a pub, you invite him/her
to take a quid; that is the best way to show your
hospitality. You offer a betel quid to a superior or
a friend whom you meet suddenly on your way;
nothing is more respectable. Accepting a betel quid
offered by someone means obviously an overall
Positive reaction to him/her. If you wish to send
a negative message to someone, you simply refuse
his/her betel quid. Accepting a betel quid is the be-
ginning of a long-lasting relationship. A betel quid
also implies some sense of obligation. The Quan
hlo singer warns herself: “Accepting your quid, it’s
OK. But how can I keep my word?”
If a commoner entered any office for business,
he had to have in his hands at least a betel tray or
some areca nuts and betel leaves for the officials,
from the security personnel at the gate to the office
head in his bureau. The introduction by way of
[oils of betel and areca engendered the expression
nioney for betel leaves and areca nuts.” Initially, it
refers to real betel and areca, then it is symbolized
111 a little sum expressing your gratitude to someone
who assisted you in a tiny business; later, it is some
fine words for the bribe.
On the other hand, betel leaves and areca nuts
also used to entertain guests during social
gatherings and family reunions: birth and death an-
nWersaries, New Year holidays, funerals, weddings,
etc. No activity can occur without the presence and
fre introduction of the betel quid. This is true, too,
throughout one’s individual life, for example, at a
rrth, wedding, or death, and at all daily occasions
°f happiness or sadness.
Ancestors, genii, etc. also accepted the betel
quid as introducing a matter. In all religious and
rthial ceremonies, in public or in private, the betel
eaves and the areca nuts were a must. For a dead,
ancestor, or a deity, betel and areca - with a
CuP of fresh water (preferably rainwater collected
Anthr,
■°pos 101.2006
Fig. 5: The Le Di An Trau (rite of visiting and betel-chewing);
early 20th century; traditional woodcutting (courtesy National
Museum of Arts, Saigon, 1975).
at the base of an areca palm tree) - formed the
most pure offerings. Areca nuts and betel leaves
continue to be the first offerings on the family’s and
communal house’s altar. In their heart of hearts, the
Vietnamese believe that when they put a bunch of
areca along with some bottles of rice alcohol and/or
a bunch of bananas on the altar, then their genii and
their ancestors would assist them in their business,
whatsoever.
But the communicative meaning of betel and
areca is best shown in the relationship between
women and men, from their first hesitant moment
to their wedding ceremony and beyond: “Accepting
a betel quid, [the girl] becomes daughter-in-law in
her [i.e., the coming husband’s] family.” The mes-
sage of this proverb is “No betel quid, no marriage!
No courtship!” In fact, this is true as well in the past
as nowadays. To introduce the matter of marriage,
people usually say: “I’ll get a tray full of betel and
take it [to your parents] to ask for your hand.”
506
Nguyên Xuân Hiên
Fig. 6: The Lê Di An Trau in Hanoi (courtesy of Dr. Tràn Tien,
1998).
Otherwise the areca palm trees with their thin,
elegant stature and a tall, straight trunk, loosing
leaves, are like a shy girl, and they remain as a
symbol of the Vietnamese landscape, especially in
religious institutions. The areca orchard, the red-
tiled roof, and the deep pond are representative of
the maternal house from time immemorial. When
you think about a Vietnamese house, the first things
to appear in your mind are areca palm trees. The
areca palm tree continues to play a double role for
Vietnamese people as identifying tree and traveler’s
tree. Areca palms are always the first “relatives”
who welcome you when you return to your native
home after a long trip. Kilometers away, you rec-
ognize already the areca palm trees of your home.
Moreover, in the past, the Vietnamese considered
their areca palms as brothers or sisters. When a
family member passed away, all areca palms in this
family ought to be in mourning, i.e., giving each
tree a white band (paper or cloth) or simply making
a circle of white lime on their trunk. If people forgot
to do so, most (if not all) areca palm trees would
die, one after the other. They followed their dead
sibling!
Generally, the areca palms are typical, symbolic
plants in the north and northern part of Central Viet-
nam. Coconut palms play this role from Binh Dinh
southwards, meanwhile areca trees are also planted
widely in the south. If the bamboo hedge is repre-
sentative for Vietnamese villages, the areca palms
play the same role for Vietnamese dwellings, mon-
uments, pagodas, temples, palaces, tourist spots,
etc.
We can see the popularity of areca trees in the
toponyms with can or tan lang (areca) and trau
(betel) terms. The oldest one is seemingly the lang
Cau (Areca village), Bac Ninh Province. Archae-
ological artifacts from this area prove that the lo-
cality was inhabited by the Viet from the begin-
Fig. 7: Plucking areca nuts; Saigon suburbs; early 20th century;
traditional woodcutting (courtesy National Museum of Arts,
Saigon, 1975).
ning of our era, and written documents confirm the
long existence of this locality’s name. About sixty
locality-names in eleven provinces are related to the
areca and to betel appellations.
In the 14th century Tue Tmh Nguyên Bâ Tinh,
who was the founder of Vietnamese traditional
medicine, emphasized: “[Chewing] betel quid dis-
cards phlegm and warms up the body” (1998: 397)-
He further indicated that the areca peel has effects
on asthma and on flatulence, and it acts as an ex-
pectorant. Wild areca core is known as a vermifuge
and an antiseptic. A concoction of areca core is
used in the disinfection of open wounds. In the
1950s, Hanoi’s Medicine and Pharmacology Uni-
versity confirms the high antibiotic effect of be-
tel leaves on Streptococcus, Bacillus coli, Bacü'
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
507
lus subtilis. Recent investigations lengthen the list
of bacteria negatively affected by betel extract in
methanol. Some hospitals successfully use areca
core and betel in external medicine (Nguyen Van
Dan 1993: 96). In traditional veterinary medicine,
the dried areca core is used in the purge of intestinal
flatworms of dogs and cattle. Betel-chewing is thus
a manifest of the Vietnamese nutriotherapy.
At last, in the time when there were no cosmet-
ics, Vietnamese women found in betel-chewing the
natural way to make-up: they chewed betel, and
their cheeks, their lips turned attractively rose (as
they use nowadays make-up chemicals), their eyes
became sparkling, and they fell into psychoexciting
amiability (as they drink nowadays some glasses of
aperitif). The ingenious discovery of this cosmetic
effect of betel-chewing by Vietnamese women en-
couraged girls to chew betel en route to trysting-
places, to festivities, ceremonies, etc. They chewed
it, gained self-confidence, looked more attractive,
and their voice became more melodious and glossy.
Previous to the use of toothbrushes and tooth-
paste, betel-chewing was the only way to clean the
teeth effectively, to prevent caries, and to freshen
the breath. On the other hand, the halitosis is a big
and real problem all the time and for all people,
m particular for persons of advanced age. How to
taanage this “plague” is a permanent concern of
several generations. In betel-chewing one finds a
Wonderful way of dealing with this wide-spread
plague.
From the historical standpoint, the Vietnamese
betel quid is a substitute both for a beauty-case and
a tooth-care set!
To sum up, betel-chewing is not merely a matter
°f chewing. The betel quid carries multiple socio-
cultural messages by itself. The Vietnamese always
think about these messages when they practice this
custom or they talk about it. The betel-chewing cus-
tom is considered as an element of national identity
and prestige. It is deeply rooted in society and cul-
ture.
^•4 The Vietnamese Betel Service
ancient Vietnam, the betel-chewing custom did
c°st the chewers a lot. A popular saying summa-
riZed the issue in these words: “Abstaining from
poking, you have enough for buying water buf-
aloes; abstaining from chewing, you have enough
0r buying fields.” Along with betel quid, the betel-
chewing custom needs, indeed, a couple of imple-
ments that make up the bo trdu vo (betel service):
a) an ang trau (bronze betel box) for conserving
fresh betel leaves, whole areca nuts, and a piece of
bark;
b) a lime pot for containing slaked lime and a spat-
ula for taking lime from the pot and smearing it on
betel leaves;
c) a trap tràu (wooden betel box) for storing rele-
vant things. This box has a shallow tray called coi
tràu (betel tray), on which the well-prepared betel
quid’s components are displayed;
d) an areca knife for cutting areca nuts and prepar-
ing betel rolls;
e) a spittoon for collecting betel spittle and betel
quid remains;
f) a betel bag for keeping some ready-to-chew be-
tel quids when on travel;
g) a lime recipient for containing a little slaked
lime which is used to adjust lime to one’s taste;
h) finally, and if necessary, a betel mortar for
pounding betel quid, used by toothless elderly.
The last three instruments are optional.
No outsider, scientist or connoisseur, or collec-
tor of antiques can, alas, completely describe all
elements of the Vietnamese betel service. The most
missing one is the ang trau, but for the Vietnamese
this box is the unique representative symbol for the
betel-chewing; there is nothing that says more than
this box about the traditional custom. Meanwhile,
at family level, the trap trau in the past and the
shallow tray ccfi trau nowadays are considered the
face of the family; it represents the host’s mentality,
hospitality, and generosity; it shows the welcome
level offered by the host to the guests. In general,
the Vietnamese betel service does resemble those
of the neighboring countries as regards the service
components, but the style and the material are not
the same. Naturally, the handicraft skill, the shape
pattern, and the decoration motifs depend on the
local history and the traditional culture. Nowadays,
all these instruments become rare antiques that are
eagerly searched for and illegally exported by for-
eign collectors.
A lime pot was very cheap: in 1882, it cost only
1 tien; no pottery was cheaper (Derbès 1882; 606).
But it takes a special place in Vietnamese reality.
Many rituals and taboos are related to this tiny
ceramic. First, how are these pots produced? Only
potters that mastered the glaze technique could pro-
duce lime pots. There were almost no pots without
glaze. But there is one exception: in Phiidc Tich
and some other villages in Hüdng Trà District (Hué
City) local potters, who adapted to limited welfare
conditions and the severity of the local environ-
ment, had to produce earthenware pots.
Anth
•ropos 101.2006
508
Nguyen Xuan Hien
The production itself should strictly observe
some traditional regulations. They were produced
after the lunar calendar and only in the intercalary
month of a leap year. The pottery owner and the
head craftsman could knead and glaze “Mr. Lime
Pot” when they were “clean,” i.e., not in mourn-
ing, but in good health and in materially prosper-
ous conditions. On most of the lime pots there
are no decorations but only stylistic leaves, flow-
ers, clouds, etc. The manual production of lime-pot
showed that every lime pot is unique, not even one
resembles the other. Lime pots were and are con-
sidered to be the most utilitarian of all small wares
that are produced by local potters. Every family
possessed one. Therefore, almost all lime pots bear
no inscription denoting their date and origin. Only
lime pots from ancient royal family members in
Hue are China-ordered from Song kilns in Kengte
District, Zangshi Province (China).
Old ceramic lime pots were among the most
original creations of Vietnamese potters; they con-
densed the mind and talent of local artisans. We ex-
amined over hundred specimens from various peri-
ods and with different shapes, decorations, and col-
ors. From the initial elliptic bulbous forms (prob-
ably from the 11th century), these pots developed
to more spherical and then lightly ovoid forms in
present days. The handle became more and more
prominent and the decor more and more whimsi-
cal, especially in the 17th and 18th centuries. But
the general shape remains the same throughout the
centuries.
The Vietnamese consider lime pots as a repre-
sentative of God. New lime pots were only sold
in big markets. Village markets, even in villages
where lime pots were produced, were unsuitable
to display and sell these items. People did not say,
“I go to buy” but to “invite a Mister Lime Pot.” The
vulgar term mua (to buy) was replaced by the re-
spectful term think (to invite). People, who wanted
to invite a lime pot, had to prepare in advance a
square of new, red cloth. On an auspicious day,
they put this cloth in a clean basket and brought
it on their head to the market. They did not try to
bargain over the price. They paid what the seller
wanted. The latter could not get a big profit. That
was contrary to the Vietnamese business practice!
Mister Lime Pot supervised their transaction! Then
the owners covered the “Invited Pot” with the cloth
and brought it back on their head. It was forbidden
to carry a lime pot by its handle. If they took a bus
or a boat, they had to put their basket with the pot
on the place higher than their head.
The house owner carefully searched an honor-
able elderly to slake lime, for the first time, in this
new pot. That is an old man or woman who had
a happy conjugal life, a respectful social life, and
a successful business life. The elderly poured rain-
water (collected under an areca tree) in the pot and
then put in some small, carefully selected pieces
of limechalk. The lime must be burnt evenly, not
unburnt. If slaked lime was evenly well, i.e., no lack
of water that made lime too dry or unevenly slaked
nor water in abundance that made lime too wa-
tery. That was a happy omen for the whole family
and for a long time. Endless prosperity, longevity,
wealth, security, and happiness would be guaran-
teed. Naturally, the bright pink was the preferable
color for slaked lime on this occasion. Lime powder
- as described by many outsiders - is never used
in betel-chewing; the Vietnamese believe, it could
bum the chewer’s mouth!
Chewers take much care when they take lime
from the lime pot. They could not stir the spatula
inside the pot. Stirring makes lime lose its smooth-
ness. That is the reason why the pot’s “belly”
gets narrower with the time, and the pot becomes
quickly useless. The pot’s owner is proud of it, too.
It is forbidden to scrape round inside the pot, as
this practice makes the pot quickly obstmcted. But
people believed if the lime pot became obstructed
in a short time, the family would be prospering for
a long time!
During the Tet festival, the lime pot is decorated
with a red, square paper on which the character
“Happiness” is written with black Chinese ink. This
“Happiness” is usually on the opposite side to the
spatula hole. The pot handle is also decorated with
a silk band in stating red.
The right place for the lime pot is behind the an-
cestors’ altar. This quiet and secure place is also in-
accessible to thieves, who usually obstmcted firmly
the spatula hole of the victim’s lime pot before they
searched valuable things. They believed, that, hav-
ing done so, the victim’s family members would not
break their sleep, would not speak in their sleep,
and, more importantly, if they woke up they would
not be able to speak a word and give alarm. People
in Thanh Hoa Province believed in another way
used by thieves who got the same effectiveness if
they turned the spatula hole close to the wall.
Countryside fellows believed that the House Ge-
nie should incarnate in the lime pot and this genie
decided the prosperity and future of the whole fam-
ily. Therefore, in the inauguration rite of a newly
built house, the house owner had to invite a brand-
new lime pot. Every participant in the inauguration
feast had to take a little lime from this new pot. This
lime smearing incarnated the luck and prosperity to
visitors and to the new house’s family, too.
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
509
After some time, the spatula hole of the lime
pot was garnished with a white or rose aureole.
The thicker this aureole was, the richer was the
house owner. The quick increase in the thickness of
this layer demonstrated the great hospitality of the
owner and the warm friendship between him and
his neighbors and visitors.
It was forbidden to break the dried lime layer
on and around the spatula hole. The owner invited
usually an old man to carefully saw off the layer.
As numerous and as big these pieces were, as proud
was the house owner. Or they waited until the lime
aureole would fall down. The dried lime pieces
from this layer were hung up in the house’s back
entrance or by-entrance that was used by women,
especially by menstruating women. These persons
were often haunted by devils; the dried lime layers
turned the devils inoffensive when women entered
the home.
Fig. 8: Lime pot in ceramic; 17th century (courtesy National
Museum of Arts, Saigon, 1975).
More generally, after a long service dried slaked
hrne would obstruct the spatula hole of the lime
P°t; it turns useless. People never break it out or
destroy it. It must be placed with high veneration
at the foot of secular banyan trees, in front of
tetnples or shrines. About half a century ago, one
c°uld still see such banyan trees near shrines and
teuiples in Hanoi with numerous old and useless
AnthropoS 101.2006
Fig. 9: Lime pot in ceramic; late 1950s, Hanoi (Nguyen Xuan
Hien).
lime pots oscillating at the ends of or between their
long aerial roots. The gloomy atmosphere under the
thick canopies of banyan trees turns these lime pots
more mystic and horrific. When people walked by
these banyan trees with old lime pots, they had to
clasp their hands, bow their heads, and pray for
protection by the temple genies and these pots.
Another place suitable for conserving these use-
less pots was the graveyard. People put their old
pots nearby their relatives’ graves in the hope
that these pots would protect their relatives’ souls
against all kinds of devils. The village pagoda is
sometimes believed to be a suitable place preserv-
ing these sacred things.
Rainwater, accumulated in these abandoned
lime pots, was rich in calcium and used by shamans
in the treatment of children’s diseases. In treatment
of rachitis, they applied many times this water on
children’s feet and arms, sometimes also on the
body. Tay people in Lang Sdn treated flatulence
syndromes by oral administration of clear water
which was collected from old lime pots.
In ceramic studies, lime pots still remain un-
derresearched. Thus, it is really difficult to iden-
tify the date and the origin of a pot. However, it
seems to be sure that lime pots as well as spittoons
were not lucrative commodities in interregional and
international commerce. In all wrecks along the
Vietnamese coastlines, no signs of lime pots were
found among numerous (up to several millions)
pottery remains which were excavated during the
last decades. These popular pottery items were not
involved in the transoceanic silk and pottery route
connecting North Vietnam to other countries in
Southeastern and Southern Asia, the Middle East
and Europe from the 15th century on.
In North Vietnam, ancient lime pots were dis-
covered in two famous ceramic centers; Bat Trang
510
Nguyên Xuân Hiên
Fig. 12: A betel service in District 8, Saigon (Nguyen Xuan
Hien, 2004).
items in private collections all over the world. Lime
pots are normally also displayed as decoration ob-
jects in dining rooms or they are simply used as
flower vases. One possesses the pots, but ignores
the cultural art around these precious pots. They
display the “corpse,” but they do not get the mind,
the soul, and the spirit of it.
Nowadays foreign collectors who consider these
lime pots as relics of ancient golden times are ea-
gerly hunting them at any price. Many Vietnamese
scientists are warning of the danger of a “lime pot
drain”; at the same time a lot of sophisticated, col-
orful, large lime pots are probably products created
by fakers.
2.5 The Betel-Chewing Custom in Folktales
The betel-chewing custom is also captured in the
Vietnamese folk literature, but it is poorly docu-
mented in French, German, and English sources,
which are exclusively written by outsiders. They
always cite, with little variation, the Vietnamese
“Story of the Betel and Areca.” This tale is also told
in anthologies of Vietnamese folktales such as, to
cite a few, “Contes et légendes du pays d’Annam
by F. Cesbron (1938), “Vietnamese Legends” by
G. F. Schults (1965), “Als die Fische die Sterne
schluckten - Màrchen und Legenden aus Vietnam,
Laos und Kambodscha” by E. Claudius (1976), etc.
All these versions belong to Type I of the tales of
the origin of betel-chewing (see Table 1). More-
over, there are also folktales about specific imple'
ments (such as “The Monk Turned into a Lime Pot
and “The Novice Turned into a Spittoon”) and the
specific manner the Vietnamese prepare their betel
Anthropos 101.2006
Fig. 10: A betel basket in Bac Liêu; about 1940 (courtesy Na-
tional Museum of Arts, Saigon, 1975).
Fig. 11: A betel dish in North Vietnamese countryside (Nguyln
Xuan Hien, Bac Ninh, 2003).
village (nowadays Gia Lâm District, Hanoi) and
Chu Dâu village (Nam Sach District, Hâi Duong
Province). Viïdng Hong Sen has collected nine rep-
resentative lime pots of Vietnam (1950: 11).
The lime pots are always a curiosity for out-
siders. From 1889 on, the French voluntary soldier
Louis Bonnafont (1924: 10) has painted all that he
was attracted by, e.g., the lime pot, the tortoise, etc.
on the wall of a Buddhist pagoda on the seaside
at Nam Ô area, near the Hâi Vân pass. Vietnamese
ceramic lime pots, most of them are brand-new
ones and without any vestiges of usage, are con-
served in various museums abroad such as Musée
de l’Homme (Paris), Musée National des Arts Asia-
tiques - Guimet (Paris), Musée des Arts Africains
et Océaniens (Paris), Musée National du Guinée
(Paris), Musées Royaux d’Art et d’Histoire (Brus-
sels), etc. Many valuable lime pots are firsthand
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
511
Fig. 13: Facsimile of the entire
“Story of the Areca Palm Tree”
in Link Nam chich quai liêt truyen
(handwritten version, 1695, photo
by Nguyên Xuân Hien, 2004).
I f *
Iff;
S f fj
< « «
^ é,
*'i
• $ *7
7S £
: f I
T I
■■ i
¡¡..■Si»
•I |,l=s
t i f 4
S. # -î f
i A: §
Il f f *■
sii
iX '■-Itt
a. x
*
&
r.-^Él- -gl. '
»■«' 2 '-. J.' M
4 X,-A 7>
€. JL a
Ï!"3§À:'^ *P
% f
•. Ä ^ '
■'T Æ
A T
s Ä
t-1
. ìè.
i ÿ
* £
& i
f-f
è i
i
1
I
»s
roll (such as “Why Do We Use a Tip-Cut-Off Betel
Leaf?”). Nine other tale variants have details and/
°r episodes concerning the areca tree, betel vine,
betel quid, and betel quid remains. With regard to
languages, four tales, among them the oldest one,
are directly translated from chit Nho,5 others from
French (10), and Vietnamese (16). Only three ver-
sions are originally quoted in English.
With regard to time, these tales cover a period
of more than eleven centuries (from about the 11th
century to the early 21st century), but mostly from
the late 19th century onwards.
With regard to ethnicity, eight ethnic groups (the
^iet, the Dao, the Tay and the Thay in the north, the
Lo, the Katu, the Sedang in Central Vietnam, and
the Khmer in the south) contribute their folktales
about the betel-chewing custom.
We translated the integral and oldest version,
entitled “Tan lang truyen” (The Story of the Areca
F*alm Tree),6 for the first time from the handwritten
book Link Nam chich qudi liet truyen (1695) into
English:
A t°ng, long time ago, a quart lang7 of very high stature
received from the king himself the name Cao [high],
^ ChiJ Nho is a Vietnamese old script that looks like Chinese
characters but with different pronunciation, grammar, and
syntax.
6 This title can be understood in two different ways: “The
Story of Tan [and] Lang” (two persons) or “The Story of
the Areca Palm Tree” (or of the Areca Nut).
Quan lang was an appellation for a prince under the leg-
endary Kings Hung.
Anthropos 101.2006
which therefore became his family name. Cao had two
sons, the elder named Tan, the younger Lang. The two
children resembled each other like two drops of water; it
was impossible to tell them apart based on their appear-
ance.
When they reached the age of 17 and 18, their parents
passed away. The two brothers came to a Taoist hermit
named LUu [Dao] Huyen for instruction. The LUu family
had a daughter named Lien, also 17 or 18 [years old],
and, at first sight, [she] fell in love and wished to marry
one of the two. But she was unable to distinguish the
elder from the younger. She offered them a bowl of rice
gruel with only a single pair of chopsticks. The younger
invited the elder to partake of this specialty first, and she
asked her parents for permission to marry the elder boy.
Once established with his wife, the elder showed a
less warm sentiment towards his younger brother, who
felt humiliated and reflected: “My brother concentrates
on his married life and is really forgetting me.” Saying
nothing, the younger brother returned to his natal village.
Reaching the heart of the forest, he came upon a deep
spring; he found no boat to ford the water. He wept with
deep grief and died, then changing into a tree standing at
the mouth of the river. The elder brother on discovering
his sibling’s absence left his beloved home in search of
his brother. He reached the same place, fell by the tree,
and was then turned into a stone embracing the tree. The
wife went out in search of her husband and upon reaching
this place, embraced the stone and died, and was then
changed into a vine creeping round the tree and the stone.
The leaves of this vine are very aromatic and slightly
bitter.
Miss LUu’s parents set out to fetch the children and
reached this place; they felt great anguish and decided
to build a temple dedicated to them. People in the sur-
512
Nguyén Xuán Hièn
Table 1: Tales of Origin of Betel-Chewing from Various Periods
Type Charac- ters Who turned into Areca Tree Who turned into Betel Vine Who turned into Limestone Representative Sources
I 3 Younger brother Elder brother’s wife Elder brother Link Nam chích qudi liet truyen (1695), Nordemann (1914), Phan Ké Binh (1989) [1915], Crawford (1966), Nguyen Khàc Vién and Hùu Ngoc (1972), Bùi Báo Van (1989), Ly Khàc Cung (2002)
II 3 Elder brother Elder brother’s wife Younger brother Le Van Phát (1913), Cesbron (1938), Pham Duy Khiém (1951), During Dình Khué (1967), Vü Ngoc Phan (1975), Ta Dtfc (1989), Nguyen Dong Chi (2000), Nguyen Cong Hoan and Hoài Nam (2003), Nghe Unh Province (n. d.)
III 3 Younger brother Elder brother Elder brother’s wife Langlet (1928)
IV 3 Younger and el- der brothers Elder brother’s wife Chivas-Baron (1917), Vü Ngoc Lien (1942)
V a 2 Wife Husband Tran Thuyét Phuòng (1960)
"The plot is very simple and underlines especially the perfect conjugal affection and happiness.
rounding areas offered flowers and incense at this temple.
They praised them as “the united brothers and faithful
spouse.”
In the seventh and eighth lunar months, when it is
still warm, King Himg went on a tour of inspection,
stopping for a while before the temple. He contemplated
the luxuriant tree with the vine creeping round it. He
plucked a nut and a leaf, chewed them together, and then
spat out his saliva on the rock; suddenly his saliva turned
red and took on a delicious aroma. The king ordered
the rock to be baked to obtain lime and chewed it with
the tree’s fruit and the vine’s leaves. This quid, once
chewed, gave off fragrant and delicious flavors and made
the cheeks rosy. The king realized the high value of these
things and ordered them to be brought to his house.
Nowadays these plants are planted everywhere:
they are the areca palm and the betel vine. From
then on, the Vietnamese have offered first the areca
nut and then the betel leaves at wedding ceremonies
or in rituals and festivities at various levels. Thus
are the origins of the areca palm related.
Based on over hundred collected versions, we
can identify five types of folktales about the origin
of the betel-chewing custom (see Table 1). The
above-mentioned oldest version belongs to Type L
Among these five types of tale, the first two are
popular, but the others are less known by the public.
2.6 In Present Day
The custom seemingly reached its peak around the
time of the colonization of Vietnam in the second
half of the 19th century by the French. At the be-
ginning of the 20th century and especially in Ba
Diem area (the stronghold of betel-chewing tradi-
tion in the outskirts of Saigon), close to 80% of
adults, young and old, chewed betel daily (Balaize
1995: 165). It is impossible to get a reliable, quan-
titative and nationwide feature of the custom that is
in decline, but every year some new members join
the chewer’s contingent, especially when they are at
the age of 50 or 60 and incorporate into a Buddhist
lady group, particularly in the countryside. They re-
place partially the chewers who passed away. Gen-
erally speaking, alone elderly women, most over
sixty years and living mainly in the countryside,
continue to be really passionate about chewing. The
prevalence in the north is more impressive than m
the south. Indeed, their percentage among the el-
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
513
Pig. 14: Street vendor of betel
in North Vietnam; in the 1930s
(courtesy National Museum of
Arts, Saigon, 1975).
derly female population is rather low, too (personal
observation, 2002-2004).
The decline of the betel-chewing custom can be
seen through the change of the old conception “I’m
billing to pay ten quan for a girl with blackened
teeth” into the new one “Fm willing to pay ten quan
for a girl with [a] charming [smile].”
The business of areca and betel, flourishing once
aU over the country, is being in deep decline, espe-
eially in large agglomerations. For the time being
and in some places in North Vietnam, this busi-
es is in fusion with the business of incense and
Joss-paper things, both items are mainly used in rit-
uals. In August 2004 at Tan Dinh market in Saigon
Center, we found only two small stalls, which were
°Wned by two ladies in their seventies from Ba
f^iem region. They managed the business in the
nianner “of sleeping and selling [areca] intermit-
tently.” The business, up to two stall rows with
s°rne thirty vendors of areca and betel, flourished
^ this market some forty years ago. They sold betel
without a rest.” Elderly women who are naturally
Edicts take the monopoly in this commerce that
UsUally does not reach a level higher than any local
°ne (personal observation, 2004).
Anthropos 101.2006
In recent years, especially to attract foreign
tourists, the modem trend develops a habit of offer-
ing a phoenix-wing-formed betel roll to the audi-
ence before every traditional cultural performance
in the city as well as in the countryside, in low-
lands as well as in mountainous regions. The betel
quid turns into a symbolic welcome gift crystal-
lizing the hospitality and friendship. The ancient
message “the betel quid establishes the communi-
cation” keeps all of its meaning in our new mil-
lennium society. This trend is less developed in the
south.
The betel quid enters more frequently into rit-
uals in the countryside as well as in the city. Nu-
merous city-dwellers still believe: “[At a wedding]
the presence of betel and areca shows luxuriousness
and satisfaction.” A groom’s mother living in Hanoi
suburb made a confession: “On the occasion of my
son’s wedding, my utmost concern is to get enough
areca and betel for the rite of demanding the hand
of the future bride. The reason: No betel, no areca
means no marriage. I have known anything about
areca and betel since my childhood. Now I realize,
how sacred the betel rolls and the areca nuts are;
that came from our forefathers. I see in these round
514
Nguyen Xuan Hien
Fig. 15: Street vendor of betel in
North Vietnam; in 2000 (courtesy
of Dr. Tran Tien, Hanoi, 2003).
nuts and green leaves the human sense, the living
feeling, and folk identity ... I enter the bride’s
home along with four maidens who bring the tray
with over hundred areca nuts and I am vibrating
with deep, sweet love, and affection. I really reach
up the sublime happiness of a Vietnamese mother”
(Mai Thuc 1998: 24). It seems necessary to note
that most of these offered quids finally will wither;
nobody wants to chew them.
Many Vietnamese keep immemorial souvenirs
from this custom. Among Vietnamese elderly, the
reminiscence from the past, especially from their
childhood, is always mixed with areca palm trees
and their suave fragrance.
After the end of the war (April 30th, 1975),
over three million Vietnamese left their country and
Fig. 17: Betel leaves in Paris 13e, France (Nguyen Xuan Hien,
2005).
Fig. 16: Areca nuts (Nguyen Xuan Hien, 2005).
were spread over a hundred countries all over the
world. A couple of Vietnamese elderly people from
the first generation living abroad have always kept
the custom of chewing-betel. They brought with
them a rather complete betel service, especially the
areca knife. But the Vietnamese diaspora is not nu-
merous; moreover, they are recent residents. In the
USA, the Vietnamese American community is the
most populous in Vietnamese diaspora and concen-
trates in some localities such as Santa Clara (Cal-
ifornia), Houston (Texas), etc. The environmental
conditions facilitate the practice of betel-chewing
custom among some last chewers. In France, where
they have settled for a long period and keep a rather
constant relationship with their motherland, one
Anthropos 101.2006
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam
515
Ug. 18: A Müdng lady (courtesy of Dr. Tran Tién, Hòa Binh,
1999).
19: Bamboo-inlays with areca palms at One-Pillar Pagoda
l^guygn Xuan Hien, Saigon, 2004).
Can meet on the streets some old ladies who still
chew betel. In a couple of Paris-based shops with
Produits exotiques,” one can sometimes get fresh
|treca nuts and betel leaves (but never chay bark)
r°m Vietnam. In the UK, the Vietnamese reside
side by side with heavy betel addicts from India,
akistan, or Bangladesh. They can easily get paan
Masala, but they complain “betel is not the betel
used to chew, the taste is really unacceptable.”
he sensitive difference in taste discourages local
Vithri
opos 101.2006
Vietnamese to continue practicing this custom. The
hard availability of betel quid components, even in
other European big cities, makes it difficult to prac-
tice this custom. If someone returns from Vietnam
and brings with him some betel leaves and areca
nuts, it is a real feast for “ancient addicts” who call
one another and gather in the owner’s home to cel-
ebrate the event. Their radiant faces, their smiling
eyes with a temporal flash of tiring age, their joyful
conversation denote how deep the betel-chewing
custom is rooted among these elderly people. Al-
most nobody of the Vietnamese diaspora chews
betel as a daily routine. But when the moment
comes, people do their best to get some fresh areca
bunches, some fresh and attractive betel-leave sets
at any cost as is the custom at wedding ceremonies
between Vietnamese brides and grooms. The two
families, especially the bride’s side, try to strictly
observe this symbol of conjugal faithfulness. They
still believe, if the boy’s family cannot offer at least
two large trays full of fresh areca nuts and betel
leaves, the young couple would meet numerous
troubles in their upcoming common life and, nat-
urally, their happiness would be challenged all the
time. Mrs. Do Kim Ngoc (67 years old in 2003), a
mother-in-law from a groom’s side in Sacramento,
USA, confesses, “I’m not afraid of anything [with
regard to my son’s wedding] but only of the betel
and areca issue. It costs much time and energy.
Finally, we get a thousand and fifteen areca nuts
and four bags of betel leaves, as fresh as directly
from Ba Diem orchards. It’s not only the demand
from the bride’s family, but it’s the sacred duty of a
Vietnamese mother.”
This happened with the Viet and with other eth-
nic groups, too. A Thay bride’s family in Minnesota
decidedly urged that there should be two areca
bunches for the wedding ceremony of their elder
daughter; the American groom did not know how
to satisfy this demand and had to ask for assistance
from the local Vietnamese community. But in most
of the cases, the bride and her sweetheart do not
share the concern about areca and betel of their
parents (personal observation, 2003).
In short, when a Vietnamese thinks about his
home village or his native dwelling, the first thing
that appears in his mind is his areca palm tree(s)
or something related to this romantic plant. The
young generation of the Vietnamese, living at home
or abroad, sees the betel-chewing custom with less
sympathy. They ask their relatives: “Why do our
grandmoms chew it with a blood-like mouth and
from time to time they spit out a stinky thing?”
Many chewers do not feel comfortable when they
take a quid in a public place.
516
Nguyén Xuàn Hièn
3 Conclusion
Areca nuts and betels leaves have a long history of
use and are deeply ingrained in many sociocultural
and religious activities. Their usage is culturally
bound and is an integral aspect of several Asian
customs and thus part of their identity.
Since 1912, French colonists have tried, with
great curiosity, to answer the question: Why are
these people so enthusiastic about this “dirty” be-
havior that is viewed [by Europeans] as representa-
tive of backwardness in hygiene, aesthetics, culture,
etc.? Step by step, they uncovered with stupefaction
numerous positive aspects of this custom. Many re-
searchers consider betel-chewing as a main feature
of Vietnamese culture. However, we can see some
additional aspects from the standpoint of cultural
anthropology: 1. This custom took a reasonable
dimension. There were betel chewers, but no betel
slaves. 2. The betel and areca production kept al-
ways its familial features even in its high develop-
ment. Even in some commodity-oriented areas, the
areca trees’ number per household cannot exceed
40-50 trees or so. 3. It seems that for centuries,
the Vietnamese quid was not an object of change.
The betel-chewing custom was wonderfully green,
natural. 4. The rich and the aristocratic people have
supposedly ordered special betel services made of
gold or silver. But after too many “revolutionary”
upheavals, it is hard to find out some tangible relics
of this custom. 5. Anyway, betel-chewing remains,
we hope, for a long time, if not for ever and at
modest extent in Vietnamese practice and in the
minds of the Vietnamese, at home and abroad.
With regard to a cultural dimension, the areca
palm trees are always present, for instance, in the
daily performance of many water puppet groups,
in cheo (traditional operetta) acts, in cdi luong (re-
formed opera) performance, in feature films, etc.
With regard to a literal dimension, a variety of po-
ets, writers, and composers continue to insert the
areca simile in their creations. For example, in the
2004 contest “Writing about the Motherhood” or-
ganized in Saigon, the two highest awards were
given for two articles about the relationship be-
tween the areca palm tree and the authors’ mother.
No plant can replace the areca palm tree in the
Vietnamese landscape and life, neither in the mind
nor in the soul of the Vietnamese.
In the meantime, recent research reveals numer-
ous high risks and side-effects of betel-chewing.
The International Agency for Research on Cancer
(.IARC 2004) states in its monograph “Betel-Quid
and Areca-Nut Chewing” clearly: 1) there is suf-
ficient evidence in humans for the carcinogenicity
of betel quid with tobacco that causes oral cancer
and cancer of the pharynx and oesophagus, 2) there
is sufficient evidence in humans for the carcino-
genicity of betel quid without tobacco that causes
oral cancer. The areca nut itself is carcinogenic to
humans.
It is the first time that IARC issues a clear-cut
affirmation about this complicated problem that is
in decade-long dispute. Nobody can challenge this
conclusion. But it is merely from a medical stand-
point. On the other hand, “human beings are ir-
rational thinking animals.” As far as we are con-
cerned here, it is clear that human mouths are al-
ways itching to snack, to drink, and to smoke. Mil-
lions of people in several continents know already
the direct cancer risk of smoking, but they con-
tinue to accept a death sentence because of cigarette
smoking.
Everywhere and all the time, human beings are
really obsessed with a certain chewing mania. The
ancient Greeks chewed mastiche, a chewing gum
made from the resin of the mastic tree. The ancient
Mayas chewed chicle, which is the sap from the
sapodilla tree. North American Indians chewed the
sap from spruce trees and passed the habit on to the
settlers. Early American settlers made a chewing
gum from spruce sap and beeswax. Gum-chewing
is being the most popular chewing habit at inter-
national level, but the gum is a man-made product
and can cause diarrhea. In Africa, people continue
to chew khat, also known as miraa, a stimulant leaf
from a shrub-like tree (Catha edulis) of the same
name. People chew khat simply for becoming fash-
ionable or for seeking a way to cope with social
breakdown. The Chinese used to crunch popped
melon seeds, and other peoples have got their
own favorites: pistachio, sunflower seeds, pumpkin
seeds, etc, and the young people taste potato chip8
or nuts worldwide. It is reasonable to see the Viet-
namese betel-chewing habit in the context of the
global chewing mania.
The betel addiction is always dangerous, but the
need of an in-depth research on anthropological
aspects of betel-chewing on a multi- and interdis-
ciplinary basis and with an impartial vision is ob-
vious, and the intercultural analysis can introduce
one to a well-balanced, more humane handling
this age-honored custom, even at the national level-
An integral treatment sought after is more effective-
The ancient practice of betel-chewing may be seen
under a new, comprehensive vision and in its global
dimension.
Anthropos 101.2006
Balaize, C.
1995 Villages du Sud Viêt-Nam. Paris: Harmattan.
Bonnafont, L.
1924 Trente ans de Tonkin. Paris; Eugène Figuière.
Borri, C.
2000 Xü Dàng Trong nam 1631 [The Dàng Trong Territory
in 1631]. (Translated and annotated by Hong Nhuê -
Nguyên Khàc Xuyên and Nguyên Nghi.) Saigon; nxb
Saigon. [1631]
Bùi Bào Vân
1989 Truyên tràu eau [The Story of the Betel and Areca], Quê
me 12: 14-15.
Cesbron, F.
1938 Contes et légendes du pays d’Annam. Hanoi: Imprimerie
du Nord.
Chivas-Baron, C.
1917 Contes et légendes de l’Annam. Paris: A. Challamel.
Claudius, E.
1976 Als die Fische die Sterne schluckten. Marchen und Le-
genden aus Vietnam, Faos und Kambodscha. Halle: Mit-
teldeutscher Verlag.
Crawford, A. C.
1966 Customs and Culture of Vietnam. Rutland; C. E. Tuttle.
gia dinh
2002 Dai gia dinh câc dân tôc Viêt Nam [The Great Family
of Ethnie Groups in Vietnam], Hanoi: nxb Giâo duc -
Trung tâm ban do và tranh ành giâo duc.
^erbès
^882 Étude sur les industries de terres cuites en Cochinchine.
Excursions et Reconnaissances 4/12; 552-619.
Btïong Dinh Khuê
967 La littérature populaire vietnamienne. Saigon.
durand, E. M.
1903 Les Chams Bani. Bulletin de l’École française d’Ex-
trême-Orient 3: 54-62.
Çorinan, C. F.
y20 Excavations at Spirit Cave, North Thailand. Some In-
terim Interpretations. Asian Perspectives 13/1: 79-107.
iA*C (International Agency for Research on Cancer)
Betel-Quid and Areca-Nut Chewing and Some Areca-
Nut-Derived Nitrosamines. Lyon: IARC. (Monograph,
85)
^andes, A.
°5a Contes et légendes annamites. Conte No. XLII: Le bonze
métamorphosé en pot à chaux. Excursions et Reconnais-
1 sane es 9/22: 403 —405.
°5b Mœurs et coutumes des Annamites. Excursions et Re-
connaissances 9/21: 350-365.
^an8let, E.
^8 Dragons et génies. Contes rares et récits légendaires
Lînh Nam chich quai liêt truyên
1695 Lînh Nam chich quai liêt truyên [Collection of Extraordi-
nary Tales from Lînh Nam], Hanoi: Institute of Hân Nom
Studies’ Library. [Photocopy of the 1695 handwritten
version (A33)]
Lÿ Khâc Cung
2002 Câi binh vôi [The Lime Pot]. In: Chuyên tâm linh
Viêt Nam [Causeries on the Vietnamese Spiritual Life];
pp. 148-151. Hanoi: nxb Vân hôa dân tôc.
Mai Thuc
1998 Tïnh hoa Hà Nôi [The Cream of Hanoi], Hà Nôi: nxb Hà
Nôi.
Meyer, C.
1996 Les Français en Indochine, 1860-1910. Paris: Hachette.
Morice, A.
1997 People and Wildlife in and around Saigon (1872-1873).
Bangkok: White Lotus Press.
Nghê Tïnh Province
n. d. Truyên co dân gian Nghê Tïnh [Nghê Tïnh Folktales],
Vinh: nxb Nghê Tïnh.
Nguyên Công Hoan, and Hoài Nam
2003 Sri tich tràu eau [The Origin of Betel and Areca], Hanoi:
nxb Kim Dong. [3rd ed.]
Nguyên Dong Chi
2000 Kho tàng truyên co tich Viêt Nam [Treasure of Folktales
from Vietnam]. 2 vols, in lan thii 8. Hanoi: nxb Giâo duc.
Nguyên Khâc Viên, and Hûfu Ngoc
1972 Anthologie de la littérature vietnamienne. Tome 1: Dès
l’origine au XVIIè siècle. Hanoi: Édition en langues
étrangères.
Nguyên Van Dân
1993 Traditional Pharmaceutical Activities in Vietnam and
Their Possible Development. In: Vietnamese Traditional
Medicine; pp. 37-102. Hanoi: Thé Gidi Publishers.
Nordemann, E.
1914 Chrestomathie annamite. Hanoi: Imprimerie d’Extrême-
Orient. [2è édition, revue et corrigée]
Parsell, D,
2005 Palm Nut Problem. Asian Chewing Habit Linked to Oral
Cancer. Science News 167/3: 43-46.
Anth:
ropos 101.2006
518
Nguyên Xuân Hiên
Pham Duy Khiêm
1951 Légendes des terres sereines. Paris; Mercure de France.
[1942]
Phan Kê Binh
1989 Viêt Nam phong tue [Customs and Habits of Vietnam],
Glendale: Dai Nam Editions. [1915]
Rhodes, A. de
1999 Histoire du royaume du Tonkin (Introduction et notes par
J.-P. Duteil). Paris: Éditions Kimé. [1651]
Rooney, D. F.
1993 Betel Chewing Traditions in South-East Asia. Kuala
Lumpur: Oxford University Press.
Rydstrom, H.
2003 Embodying Morality. Growing up in Rural Northern
Vietnam. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.
Schults, G. F.
1965 Vietnamese Legends. Adapted from the Vietnamese by
G. F. Schultz. Rutland: C. E. Tuttle.
Silvestre, J.
1889 L’empire d’Annam et le peuple annamite. Paris: F. Al-
can.
Sogny, L.
1914 Les urnes dynastiques du palais de Hué. Notice descrip-
tive. Bulletin des amis du vieux Huê 1/1: 15-31.
Ta Dufc
1989 Tïnh yêu Irai gai Viêt xiïa. Truyèn thuyét, lich sût, van
hoa [Vietnamese Conjugal Love in the Past. Legends,
History, Culture], Hanoi; nxb Thanh niên.
Tam Lang
1941 Mot ngày ô xd Chàm [One Day in the Land of Chàm
People], Tri Tân 1: 24.
Toan Anh
1992 Thon cü [Ancient Hamlet], Toronto: nxb Quê Hrfdng.
Trân Thuyêt PhUdng
1960 Truyên tràu eau [The Story of the Areca Nut and the
Betel], In: Nguyên Dong Chi et al., Nghè nông co truyên
Viêt Nam qua thiï tich Han Norn [Traditional Agriculture
in Vietnam in Han Norn Documentation]; pp. 134-135.
Hà Nôi; nxb Nông Nghiêp. [1858-1897]
TrUcfng Vmh Kÿ, P. J. B.
1982 Voyage to Tonking in the Year Ât Hdi (1876). (Transi-
and ed. by P. J. Honey.) London: School of Oriental and
African Studies, University of London. [1876]
TUê Tînh Nguyên Bâ Tïnh
1998 Tuê Tïnh toàn tâp [Complete Writings of Tuê Tïnh]-
Hanoi: nxb Y hoc.
UN (United Nations)
2003 Demography of Vietnam. In: UN Development Assis-
tance Framework for Viet Nam. <http://www.un.org.vn/
undocs/undaf/index.htm>
Vassal, G. M.
1912 Mes trois ans d’Annam. Paris: Hachette.
Vû Ngoc Liên
1942 Mœurs et coutumes du Vietnam. Tome 1. Hanoi: Pham
Huy Nghiêm.
Vû Ngoc Phan
1975 Truyên co dân gian Viêt Nam [Ancient Folktales from
Vietnam], Hà Nôi: nxb Giâo Duc.
1993 Nhûng nam thâng ây (hoi kÿ) [These Months and These
Years (Memories)]. Westminster: Hong Lmh.
VUdng Hong Sen
1950 Notes d’un collectionneur. Tome 2; La chique de bétel
et les pots à chaux anciens du Viêt Nam. Bulletin de lû
Société des Études indochinoises (Nouvelle série) 25/1;
3-11.
Yann, L.
1889 Croquis tonkinois. Hanoi: Imprimerie typo-lithogra-
phique F. H. Schneider.
101.2006
Anthropos
Anthropos
101.2006: 519-528
Un chapelet sur le caducée
Tentatives d’évangélisation catholique et protestante
des Asmat (Papouasie occidentale)
Astrid de Hontheim
Abstract. - This article compares the missionization methods
aPplied by representatives of Christian churches - the Roman
Catholic Church and The Evangelical Alliance Mission - in their
efforts to motivate conversion among the Asmat of West Papua
(Indonesia). The author particularly focuses on the missionaries’
understanding of the compatibility of local traditions with their
brand of Christianity, and how missionaries view medical health
care within the context of missionization. Catholic missionaries
encourage the integration of traditional cultural expression as
'''ell as traditional health care into Christian practice, while the
evangelical missionaries enforce a radical distinction of their
Christian beliefs and rituals. The author further documents to
"'hat degree these methods shape the life of Asmat Christians
and their worldview, concluding that missionization causes peo-
ple to live in two worlds: one shaped by the traditional Asmat
"'orldview and one fashioned by the new Christian worldview.
IIndonesia, West Papua, Asmat, missionaries, medical health
care]
Astrid de Hontheim, doctorante en cotutelle entre l’Université
Llbre de Bruxelles et l’Université de Provence ; collaboratrice au
Pr°jet “missionnaires” de la Maison Asie-Pacifique (Marseille).
Quels missionnaires chez les Asmat ?
^et article1 met en perspective les missionnaires
catholiques et protestants dans une des dernières
régions du monde à les voir arriver, la région as-
(dans la province indonésienne de Papouasie
°ccidentale). Il les compare du point de vue de
leurs comportements dans un domaine de la vie
fondamental, la gestion de la santé, autrement dit la
Manière autochtone de faire face à la maladie et à
l’infortune ; il cherche également à voir dans quelle
mesure le rapport des missionnaires à la médecine
influe sur la manière dont ils sont perçus par ceux
qu’ils tentent d’évangéliser.
Les missionnaires catholiques et protestants
dont il sera question ici sont américains : il s’agit
des pères croisiers et les évangéliques de la TEAM
(The Evangelical Alliance Mission). Les Croisiers,
ou Chanoines Réguliers de l’Ordre de la Sainte-
Croix, font partie d’un ordre fondé en 1210 à Clair-
lieu (près de Huy en Belgique) dans le prolonge-
ment de la troisième croisade. La première commu-
nauté américaine apparut à Onamia au Minnesota
en 1910 ; c’est elle qui se verra confier l’évangéli-
1 Cet article se base sur une combinaison de données en prove-
nance de mon double terrain (missionnaire et asmat) et d’ar-
chives, collectées lors d’un séjour de deux mois en Asmat en
2001 et de trois mois en 2004 (villages simai et bismam pour
la plupart, et plus accessoirement keenok et betsjm’bup) ;
un autre séjour de six mois a été réalisé en 1999 mais dans
d’autres régions que la région asmat. Ceci fut complété par
d’autres séjours d’études dont trois mois chez les pères croi-
siers OSC, les pères Maryknoll MM et les protestants TEAM
en 2003 et en 2005 (Minnesota, New Jersey, Kansas, Illinois,
Californie, Floride), une semaine chez les collectionneurs
d’art Konrad à Mônchengladbach en 2003, et dix jours aux
Pays-Bas en 2004 en compagnie des pères du Sacré-Cœur
MSC. Les centres d’archives consultés sont les suivants :
Katoliek Documentatie Centrum (Nijmegen), archives des
pères du Sacré-Cœur MSC (Tilburg), archives des Mary-
knoll (Ossining), archives des pères croisiers (Shoreview),
archives des TEAM (Wheaton) et Billy Graham Institute
(Wheaton).
520
Astrid de Hontheim
sation de la région asmat en 1947. Les quatre pre-
miers Croisiers gagnèrent leur terrain de mission en
1958 (1953 pour le premier missionnaire, un père
néerlandais du Sacré-Cœur, le père G. Zegwaard
MSC). Actuellement, les 500 membres de l’Ordre
de la Sainte-Croix sont implantés en Indonésie, en
République Démocratique du Congo, en Europe,
aux Etats-Unis et au Brésil.
Du côté protestant, la société missionnaire la
plus active chez les Asmat est de création plus ré-
cente que l’ordre croisier. A la fin du XIXe siècle,
la TEAM fut créée par le Suédois Fredrik Fran-
son ainsi que 13 autres sociétés missionnaires dans
le but initial de recruter des missionnaires pour la
Chine; TEAM en particulier vit le jour en 1890.
C’est en 1949 que The Scandinavian Alliance Mis-
sion of North America Inc. devint The Evangelical
Alliance Mission, dans le but de s’ouvrir aux mis-
sionnaires du monde entier. La TEAM commença
à s’implanter chez les Asmat en 1955 où elle prit
plus tard le nom de GKI (Gereja Kristen Indone-
sia). Actuellement, environ 750 missionnaires sont
actifs dans 47 pays pour 35,000 Églises.
Au total, on trouve dans la région asmat cinq
dénominations de missionnaires catholiques dont
deux de sœurs, et trois protestantes en plus des
pentecôtistes arrivés récemment.2 L’attention s’est
portée sur les Croisiers et sur les TEAM pour
une question d’effectif, les autres dénominations
n’ayant envoyé qu’un ou deux missionnaires contre
plusieurs dizaines du côté des deux groupes que
l’on peut donc considérer comme les principaux
acteurs de l’évangélisation des Asmat.
Eléments de décor
En cinquante ans d’évangélisation, on observe une
certaine évolution dans les méthodes de conversion.
Du côté catholique, la christianisation des premiers
temps se résumait au christianisme du tabac (To-
bacco Christianity) selon lequel tout adulte ayant
2 Les pères du Sacré-Cœur de Tilburg aux Pays-Bas, les pères
Mill Hill basé à Londres (mais originaires des Pays-Bas) et
les pères et les frères Maryknoll (MM) d’Ossining à New
York sont également présents sur place. Du côté protestant,
on compte la TEAM, la GPIP (Gereja Indonesia Protestan
di Papua) arrivée en 1971 et la MAF (Mission Aviation
Fellowship) en Papouasie occidentale depuis 1955 et dont
les pilotes sont considérés comme des missionnaires à la
différence de la compagnie aérienne catholique AMA (As-
sociated Mission Aviation). Enfin, l’Église Pentecôtiste (Ge-
reja Pentakosta) commença la réévangélisation des villages
en 2001. Enfin, il y a également des sœurs du Sacré-Cœur
TMM (Sisters of Mother Mary) et des Ursulines, respective-
ment des îles Kei ou de Java.
accepté le baptême ou participé au culte dominical
ou au système scolaire se voyait récompenser par
une pincée de tabac.3 Ayant interdit la consomma-
tion de tabac et d’alcool, les protestants utilisèrent
d’autres incitants, tels que des cadeaux dits utiles
(haches, lames de rasoir, tissu rouge, fil de pêche,
hameçons) mais furent beaucoup plus réticents à
baptiser sans une transformation réelle de la vie des
candidats. Dès 1955, les missionnaires aidèrent les
autorités à lutter contre la chasse aux têtes jusqu’en
1969 où Alphonse Sowada, le premier Croisier di-
plômé en anthropologie,4 fut nommé à la direction
du nouvel évêché d’Agats-Asmat. Après le concile
de Vatican II (1962-65), l’époque était au boule-
versement et pour le missionnaire-anthropologue,
un dilemme se profilait. Comment transformer la
société asmat tout en limitant les dégâts ? La ré-
ponse apparut d’elle-même : en préservant ce qui
serait de leur point de vue inévitablement détruit,
“la culture”, ou ce qui leur parut le plus représenta-
tif, la culture matérielle, c’est-à-dire la production
artistique des Asmat, et en particulier la sculpture.
Le principal objectif de cette démarche était d’évi-
ter la dispersion des objets jugés de qualité supé-
rieure par là même et la perte des techniques faute
de modèles.
Ainsi, les Croisiers commencèrent à collecter
des objets et fondèrent deux musées : un à Agats
en région asmat en 1973 et l’autre à Shoreview au
Minnesota en 1994. Des ventes aux enchères furent
organisées au profit des deux musées. En quelques
décennies, ils propulsèrent les Asmat (ou en tout
cas, les objets de leur fabrication) à l’avant-plau
d’un vaste réseau commercial d’art dit “tribal”.
Selon Alphonse Sowada, les groupes voisins des
Asmat (Kamoro, Mimika, Muyu, Awyu) dont la
3 Cela concernait surtout les pères du Sacré-Cœur, qui bap-
tisèrent des centaines de personnes dans la perspective de
l’arrivée imminente des protestants; à Ayam, cinq cents
personnes furent baptisées juste avant l’arrivée des Près-
ton (aux dires de ceux-ci). L’évêque de Merauke, le pere
Tillemans, chargé avant Alphonse Sowada de la christiani-
sation de l’Asmat, était connu pour surgir dans un village,
baptiser deux ou trois personnes et déclarer dans la foules
le village catholique. Selon les Croisiers, cette technique
n’avait rien d’original : les protestants procédaient de même
(ce qu’ils contestent). Il aurait donc été convenu que leS
premiers à “planter le drapeau” se verraient abandonner le
village dans une véritable course à qui baptiserait le plus de
gens. La compétition entre protestants et catholiques dans
une “course au baptême” où chaque faction tente de discré-
diter l’autre auprès dans habitants eut lieu sur d’autres île®
du Pacifique Sud, comme à Tonga dans la première moitié
du XIXe siècle (van der Grijp 1993 : 137-139, 145).
4 D’autres missionnaires anthropologues suivirent son
exemple : citons notamment Dave Gallus, Frank Trenken-
schuh, Piet Goo et Virgil Petermeier, encore à Agats
actuellement.
101.2006
Anthropos
Un chapelet sur le caducée
521
production artistique aurait été comparable à celle
des Asmat dans les années 1960, n’offrent actuelle-
ment plus que les éléments typiques d’une culture
détruite (destroyed culture) faute d’avoir bénéficié
d’efforts comme ceux des Croisiers pour les pré-
server. A défaut de sauver les âmes, les Croisiers
se décrivent eux-mêmes comme des “sauveteurs de
culture” (culture rescuers).
Critique de l’inculturation et inculturation
critique
Les protestants quant à eux ne sont pas anthropo-
logues - même si certains se réclament de cette
discipline - mais leur connaissance de la langue
leur permet de déterminer les pratiques culturelles
tolérables. Par exemple, les chants guerriers sont
monnaie courante dans les églises catholiques tan-
dis que les protestants les écartent d’emblée de
leur lieu de culte car avant de les faire entrer dans
l’église, ils ont commencé par les traduire. En effet,
le chant est un véhicule culturel primordial, et ils
en furent conscients assez tôt. Malgré la difficulté
de la langue, connue des seuls chanteurs et trans-
mise par initiation, ils s’aperçurent que les chants
- à l’exception des chants pour enfants - incitent
à la guerre, à la violence et au vol de femmes ou
°nt un lien indirect avec la chasse aux têtes, et les
bannirent tels quels de l’église.
Si les ministres protestants aussi apprécient la
Production d’objets sculptés au point de les collec-
tionner,5 il est rare de voir dans leur église des élé-
ments rappelant la chasse aux têtes de manière fla-
grante, comme des poteaux d’ancêtres bisj ou des
boucliers. A la différence des catholiques, attachés
a la culture pour son intérêt intrinsèque, les pro-
testants l’étudient pour en extraire ce qui convient
au christianisme et inciter les fidèles à renoncer au
reste.
Cet intérêt pour la culture va de pair avec un
concept apparu dans les discours catholiques à la
ba des années 1960 : l’inculturation. Ainsi, pour
reussir l’inculturation de la société asmat selon
principe que Dieu s’incarne dans une culture,
^es Croisiers enrichissent le christianisme par des
raPpels de la culture évangélisée, dans le but à
terrne de fonder une “Église asmat” avec des églises
ficcorées et des cérémonies dont les accessoires
s°nt prélevés dans la vie courante ou dans le rituel.
De manière plus rhétorique, l’inculturation im-
plique de rechercher la présence de Dieu dans les
5 Au contraire de ce que prétendent les catholiques à leur sujet.
Anthr
actes quotidiens des gens car “Dieu se trouve déjà
en eux”. Ceci rejoint la notion à'incarnation de
Dieu, présent dans l’autre. D’après Dave Gallus
OSC, Dieu devient humain dans une culture et les
missionnaires l’y découvrent. Spécifique aux Croi-
siers, la spiritualité de la croix consiste à chercher
le Christ sur des lieux de souffrance, comme les
hôpitaux et les terrains de mission. L’articulation de
ces concepts montre qu’avant même l’arrivée des
Croisiers et du point de vue de ceux-ci, Dieu était
déjà doublement présent dans la société asmat :
d’une part dans la culture, le seul endroit possible
où il puisse s’incarner, et d’autre part dans le “lieu
de souffrance” que la région asmat est supposée
être.
Du côté protestant, l’inculturation pourrait trou-
ver son équivalent dans le concept récent de
“contextualisation”, à cette différence près que l’in-
culturation est considérée par les protestants qui s’y
entendent (la plupart ne sont pas très au courant)
comme une “contextualisation critique” (critical
inculturation) parce qu’elle aboutirait au syncré-
tisme. Or, favoriser le syncrétisme est une hérésie
(“un blasphème” selon la missionnaire évangéliste
Ruth Roesler) et son existence dans une société at-
teste de la persistance de Satan sur son territoire.6
Par ailleurs, les protestants accusent les catholiques
d’avoir instauré un culte des ancêtres qui n’existait
pas avant.
Comme l’inculturation, la contextualisation vise
l’appropriation du christianisme par la population
évangélisée, mais ce ne sont pas les missionnaires
qui produisent la réponse de foi attendue par la
population mais la population elle-même. Pour re-
prendre l’exemple des chants, c’est la raison pour
laquelle les missionnaires évangélistes encoura-
gèrent les Asmat à composer de nouvelles paroles
sur la mélodie d’origine. Cependant, ces tentatives
6 Les missionnaires TEAM décrivent la région asmat des pre-
miers temps - avant leur arrivée - comme “le pays des
ténèbres” ou “le monde de Satan”, et leur action est une
“offensive envers Satan” (termes de Ken et Sylvia Dresser).
Plutôt que de préserver la culture, le but clairement avoué
entre eux (ils sont plus “politiquement corrects” devant l’eth-
nologue sauf à certains moments) est de combattre Satan
sur le territoire supposé le sien. Cela se confirme dans leurs
écrits : “Nous envahissions la terre de Satan et ça le rendait
fou” (Frazier 1994 ; 88) ou “Satan ne se tenait pas tranquille,
cependant. Il continuait à nous attaquer à travers l’Eglise
et la santé des enfants” (158). Entre autres - nombreux -
exemples, Frazier évoque aussi “une guerre contre Satan
et tous les démons dans le combat pour les âmes perdues”
(1994:167). Il cite une lettre du 7 septembre 1976 selon
laquelle “ces gens [les Asmat] ont été maintenus dans le
péché et les ténèbres trop longtemps et Satan ne veut pas les
laisser aller mais nous avons promis la victoire au Christ”
(230).
'opos 101.2006
522
Astrid de Hontheim
furent un échec parce que les Asmat eux-mêmes re-
fuseraient de faire entrer “la tradition” dans l’Église
et de mélanger les éléments de rituel asmat et chré-
tiens.7 Les missionnaires ne parvinrent donc qu’à
créer des paroles asmat sur des chants indonésiens
ou américains.
Le christianisme du stéthoscope
Face à la sauvegarde culturelle des Croisiers, les
protestants ne cachent pas leur scepticisme. En
matière de conversion, les stratégies à adopter
furent décrites abondamment par le fondateur des
TEAM, Fredrik Franson. L’une d’elles, “l’évangé-
lisation philanthropique indirecte”, est réputée ef-
ficace dans les sociétés très résistantes au christia-
nisme et prévoit l’utilisation de la médecine comme
principal instrument de conversion.8
En guise de préparation au travail de mission,
les protestants ne jugent pas utile un séjour prélimi-
naire sur place comme les catholiques,9 et préfèrent
se former en “médecine missionnaire”10 tout en
lisant des biographies de missionnaires pionniers.
Après s’être interrogés sur le métier qui servirait le
plus adéquatement leur vocation de missionnaire,
les protestants choisissent de devenir médecins, in-
firmiers ou linguistes, avec une nette dominante
médicale. Ensuite, ils postulent pour obtenir une
certification les autorisant à exercer un ministère
médical chez les Asmat. Le plus connu, le Dr. Ken
Dresser, a étudié la médecine à Queen’s Univer-
sity dans le but avoué de devenir missionnaire et
sa femme Sylvia a suivi des études d’infirmière
à l’Université de Montréal dans le même objectif.
Une petite précision s’impose ici concernant les
7 Notons que ce refus, tout comme les réactions prétendument
horrifiées des Asmat dont me font part les missionnaires
TEAM, ne se vérifient pas en l’absence des missionnaires
sur le terrain. On peut se demander dans quelle mesure
les réactions urticantes des Asmat envers leur tradition ne
viseraient pas uniquement à faire plaisir aux missionnaires.
8 La principale thèse de référence sur le fondateur évoque
“5 méthodes révisées du travail du missionnaire” dont “La
méthode de l’évangélisation philanthropique indirecte” (Tor-
jesen 1984:789-800).
9 Chez les catholiques, dans la mesure du possible, on
conseille aux futurs missionnaires de passer un court séjour
en terre asmat avant de s’y établir définitivement, à la façon
du “terrain” de l’anthropologue.
10 II existe des écoles protestantes de niveau universitaire dé-
diées à cet enseignement - dont la Biola School of Mission-
ary Medicine - par comparaison au cours de cross-cultural
mission work inclus dans le programme de Catholic Theo-
logical Union (CTU) à Chicago d’où sont diplômés de nom-
breux Croisiers.
femmes. Conformément aux prescriptions de la so-
ciété missionnaire TEAM, l’épouse doit se sentir
appelée en tant que femme de missionnaire {com-
missioned to be a missionary par TEAM dont elle
reçoit une lettre d’engagement distincte de celle de
son mari) et s’efforcer d’acquérir les connaissances
nécessaires pour épauler son mari efficacement.11
L’importance de la médecine dans le ministère
protestant chez les Asmat apparaît dès les premiers
contacts. Du côté protestant, les premiers contacts
consistèrent en séances de vaccination contre la
rougeole par le gouvernement néerlandais protes-
tant et du côté catholique, en la visite du premier
missionnaire, le père G. Zegwaard MSC. En prio-
rité, les protestants se consacrèrent à l’exercice de
la médecine et les catholiques au recensement, au
baptême et à la construction des écoles. Ainsi, les
protestants sont perçus avant tout comme des mé-
decins alors que le statut religieux du prêtre passe
avant tout autre fonction, et ce dès les premiers
temps.
Vaincre l’ennemi et la maladie
L’analyse de terrain fait apparaître une incompré-
hension de la part des missionnaires dans le do-
maine des maladies, voire leur ignorance totale
de phénomènes pourtant inscrits sur le corps des
malades et intimement liés au monde des esprits,
omniprésent dans les discours asmat. Persuadés du
dénuement des Asmat en matière médicale ou d’ar-
guments liés à des facteurs psychologiques donc
contestables, les catholiques ont inconsciemment
écarté de la culture à préserver la gestion de la
maladie et de l’infortune et tenté de convaincre
les Asmat d’adhérer aux explications occidentales-
Les protestants quant à eux refusent de soigner en
même temps que “l’homme médecine”, font une
distinction entre les “bonnes histoires qui font par-
tie de leur patrimoine” et “les histoires folkloriques
et les contes de vieilles femmes” auxquels appar-
tiennent les tabous alimentaires, la punition an-
cestrale pour transgression des interdits rituels, les
techniques de médecine asmat (surtout l’extraction
d’objets du corps, considérée comme une fourberie
dont il faut protéger les Asmat crédules) et certains
11 Suivant l’enseignement de l’apôtre Paul, les protestants
prônent une philosophie complémentaire en matière de
genres : la femme ne peut occuper un poste de direction dans
l’Église mais bien des fonctions annexes au travail de son
mari. Du côté catholique, la philosophie égalitaire dans ce
domaine génère des tensions du côté des hommes asmat, 9111
rechignent à voir leurs épouses assumer des responsabilités
religieuses et d’enseignement.
101.2006
Anthropos
Un chapelet sur le caducée
523
remèdes traditionnels et attendent des chrétiens12
qu’ils détruisent eux-mêmes les instruments de ma-
gie noire, qui cause la maladie et la mort.
Afin de comprendre certaines implications de ce
domaine de la vie, nous allons l’explorer briève-
ment par une visite sur le terrain.
Abraham Buipir est un guérisseur traditionnel,
un eeram’ipitsj. D’abord baptisé par le père Zeg-
waard MSC à l’église en 1956, il fut baptisé à
nouveau deux ans plus tard par le pasteur TEAM
Chuck Preston dans la rivière, à la demande de ses
parents.13 C’est à ce moment qu’il reçut le nom
d’Abraham. De 1965 à 1997, il dirigea l’Église pro-
testante locale puis céda la place à ses fils.14 Faute
de trouver un terrain d’entente, ses deux épouses
vivent dans des maisons séparées.15 Comme ses co-
religionnaires, Abraham participe activement aux
fêtes prohibées par son Église, comme celles orga-
nisées lors de la sortie des masques des esprits ou
de la fabrication des poteaux d’ancêtres bisj. Les
pasteurs américains, fondateurs de l’Église protes-
tante en terre asmat, accusent ceux qui continuent
ces pratiques d’avoir deux dieux. Peu importe à
Abraham, car il le reconnaît ; il a deux dieux, et
alors ?
Abraham est un eeram’ipitsj, autrement dit un
homme faiseur à.’eeram. Eeram est un don, plus
précisément un sort aux facettes multiples dont la
connaissance peut se recevoir au terme de l’initia-
tion ; ce sont actuellement ses vertus thérapeutiques
qui sont les plus sollicitées. Jadis, eeram était aussi
utilisé comme sort de victoire préalablement à un
départ de chasse aux têtes. Avant de s’aventurer
jusqu’au village ennemi, les organisateurs du raid
Priaient l’eeram’ipitsj d’accomplir un rituel propi-
tiatoire à un endroit sacré. Concernant l’efficacité
du sort, mes informateurs sont unanimes : grâce à
eeram, celui qui part en guerre la gagne.
Eeram assure aussi la victoire en matière de
santé. En situation de maladie, l’âme (dambûjw],
°btenue à la naissance et perdue à la mort, pré-
sente dans le corps humain et dans les sculptures
entières) quitte le corps ; le rôle du guérisseur est
12 A cet égard, ils parlent de “chrétiens” et de “catholiques”;
cette distinction systématique (et vraisemblablement incons-
ciente) exclut donc les catholiques de la catégorie de “chré-
tien”.
3 Chuck Preston conteste avoir réalisé des baptêmes aussi tôt.
Je constate une tendance systématique de certains protes-
tants à contester ce que l’on dit d’eux.
4 L’exemple porte sur un protestant en raison de l’absence de
clergé asmat du côté catholique ; il n’y a ni sœurs, ni prêtres
asmat.
Sans doute à l’insu des missionnaires, dont les recensements
ne citent que les épouses qui vivent sous le toit du mari.
avant tout de la convaincre d’y retourner.16 En si-
tuation thérapeutique, Veeram’ipitsj obtient le ra-
patriement de l’âme dambù(w) par le massage, pra-
tiqué avec l’application d’onguents et de décoc-
tions (abat alam en indonésien) dont il a reçu la
recette en même temps que le don. Certains ex-
traient du corps des objets pointus ou piquants, tels
que des morceaux d’os, des lames de rasoir, des
pointes de flèches, parfois envoyés à distance par
une femme âgée.17 Posé sur le corps, un assorti-
ment de pierres18 19 * * * entretient le guérisseur sur l’état
de santé du malade et sur sa probabilité de guérison.
L’eeram’ipitsj utilise aussi des phrases sacrées pro-
noncées à mi-voix, parfois des paroles bibliques.
Un deuxième type de guérisseur, plus puissant,
pratiquant aussi l’exorcisme, sollicite l’aide des es-
prits pour sa thérapeutique ou les écarte au besoin :
c’est le damer’ipitsj}9 Le damer’ipitsj est parfois
réputé avoir des rapports sexuels avec les esprits
mauvais (dat) en échange de leur soutien. Il est
aussi capable de voir les esprits des morts récents.
L’eeram’ipitsj et le damer’ipitsj ont leur pendant
féminin : l’eeram’tsjowotsj et la damer’tsjowotsj.
Avant de se résoudre à consulter un guérisseur,
les malades sollicitent les secours de la médecine
familiale pratiquée au sein de la maisonnée. La
technique la plus répandue consiste à réaliser des
incisions verticales (pfe) d’un centimètre environ
superposées en rangées serrées et frottées avec un
16 Notons qu’à la mort physique, dambü(w) disparaît et laisse
place à d’autres entités, les esprits des morts récents. Les
ancêtres (jii’ipitsj, jii’tsjowotsj) sont d’autres êtres imma-
tériels omniprésents ; basés dans la maison des hommes
(jeuw), ils interviennent lors d’actions politiques et médi-
cales majeures et sont parfois rencontrés dans la jungle. Les
esprits en général sont dits dat (ce terme désigne aussi le
masque et son porteur) ; parmi les êtres invisibles majeurs,
citons les esprits mauvais (/iokhomaj’ndet), les esprits fé-
minins présents dans le bois de fer (pasj[a] ’khomeraotsj)
et le banian (wotsjujwa]’khomeraotsj), et enfin ceux qu’en-
voient les ancêtres sous une forme animale (le couscous
\fatsj(a)’khomeraotsj\, le crocodile [ewo’khomeraotsj] et
le cochon [oo’khomeraotsj]) pour punir leurs descendants
d’avoir transgressé les règles ancestrales.
17 D’une certaine manière, les malades pourraient être consi-
dérés comme des hommes touchés au combat parce que la
maladie est attribuée à l’activité d’un ennemi généralement
identifié, comme la femme âgée. Ensuite parce que le guéris-
seur extrait du corps malade des objets qui visiblement sont
des armes ou qui peuvent être considérés comme telles.
18 Pour rappel, il n’y a pas de pierres dans le marais ; les Asmat
les troquent avec des groupes des piémonts.
19 La terminologie peut fortement changer d’un village à
l’autre : damer’ipitsj à Amborep (simai) et dateptsjom’ipitsj
dans la région de Atsj (betsjm’bup). Cette profession a une
connotation sulfureuse chez les Asmat très croyants (du côté
des Indonésiens ou des missionnaires, c’est difficile à véri-
fier car ils utilisent le terme générique dukun.)
ônthr
'«pos 101.2006
524
Astrid de Hontheim
onguent afin de faire sortir le mal du corps par
l’intermédiaire de l’infection. Composé de feuilles,
d’écorce, de bois, de racines, de fruits de la jungle20
ou de lianes, cet onguent est chauffé au feu avant
application et remplacé en cas d’échec du traite-
ment. On coupe la peau avec un coquillage servant
à la fabrication de la chaux (kulit siput en indoné-
sien). Les traces de ces traitements restent visibles
sur les nuques et les fronts de nombreux villageois,
dont la peau est couverte de brûlures et de cou-
pures. La langue asmat est révélatrice à cet égard
qui prévoit un mot différent pour chaque blessure.21
Textuellement, les ofe sont destinées à “faire sortir
la crasse” (kotor keluar, en indonésien) et à alléger
le corps alourdi par l’âge ou la maladie. Opérées
à des moments stratégiques lors de fêtes rituelles
d’importance, les scarifications ont la même vertu
ainsi que la friction avec des feuilles d’ortie très
urticantes, remède souverain contre la fatigue, le
mal de tête et les maladies de peau.
L’homme médecine contre le médecin
missionnaire
La plupart des missionnaires,22 quelle que soit leur
Église, affirment que les Asmat n’ont pas à leur
disposition un savoir médical efficace si ce n’est
les incisions et brûlures appliquées aux comateux
pour les sortir de leur léthargie. De leur point de
vue, il n’existe donc pas de spécialiste médical lo-
cal. Pour le Croisier Greg Poser, comme pour ses
confrères, le manque de connaissances médicales
dicte des comportements répréhensibles et diffici-
lement compatibles avec la foi chrétienne. Précisé-
ment, les proches d’un malade sont dits incriminer
“la sorcellerie” ou “le commerce avec les esprits”
(c’est-à-dire l’arow’pok - le sort de maladie et de
mort - ou la désobéissance aux règles ancestrales)
20 Notamment le khom (gandaria en indonésien) vert clair
amer, le pala hutan (terme indonésien, muscadier) en
grappes orangées acidulées et le tsjuamuk, le fruit sucré en
grappes tombantes d’un palmier de la région d’Agats.
21 Citons aussi akdas, une brûlure thérapeutique réalisée par
exemple sur la mâchoire en cas de mal de dents. Jim Rem-
merswaal, un des Croisiers, y fait allusion dans un entre-
tien en s’étonnant de la propension des Asmat à tromper la
douleur en la “déplaçant”. La blessure peut avoir des fins
esthétiques. Par exemple, tsjuman est une brûlure ronde ou
ovale faite avec des braises exclusivement pendant le célibat
(melepuh menjadi luka : la brûlure devient une blessure),
égrenée sur les bras comme des perles de collier.
22 II y a des exceptions, dont Alphonse Sowada, Virgil Peter-
meier et Dave Gallus chez les Croisiers, et Cal Roesler chez
les TEAM.
plutôt que la malaria ou “tout autre maladie claire-
ment identifiable”.23
Ainsi, faute d’approuver les causes de mala-
die évoquées par les Asmat, les missionnaires dé-
ploient tous les efforts de leur imagination pour
leur imposer leur vision de la médecine. Selon leur
schéma de pensée (et ils ne sont pas les seuls dans
le cas), les explications à l’occidentale constituent
un véritable progrès à apporter aux Asmat. Ceci est
un volet de la santé sur lequel ils cherchèrent à avoir
prise.
L’influence des missionnaires catholiques fut li-
mitée par le caractère sommaire de leurs connais-
sances médicales.24 Par contre, les protestants, ac-
compagnés de leur femme et de leurs enfants, ins-
pirèrent d’emblée une confiance que leur effica-
cité en médecine finit par acquérir totalement.25 * Le
Dr. Kenneth Dresser et l’ouvrage de Bob Frazier
soulignent l’effet spectaculaire de la pénicilline et
de l’aspirine sur la santé des Asmat : dans les pre-
miers temps, tous voulaient une injection. Il arriva
même que l’instituteur catholique envoie des pa-
tients au médecin protestant. “La clinique attirait
les gens comme le miel les mouches” selon Frazier
(1984 : 184), qui compta plus de 1,000 patients par
mois dans les années 1970. Dans les villages ré-
fractaires au christianisme, il fut décidé d’envoyer
non pas des catéchistes (comme l’auraient fait les
catholiques), mais des travailleurs médicaux. Mais
tout succès a ses limites. Lorsque les missionnaires
voulurent faire payer les médicaments, l’affluence
cessa.
Chez les protestants, l’interpénétration entre la
pratique religieuse et la pratique médicale apparaît
dès les premiers stades de formation : le personnel
hospitalier reçoit des cours d’évangélisation médi-
cale et les dirigeants de l’Église (church leaders)
sont souvent des travailleurs médicaux (medical
workers). Ce leadership médical trouve son pen-
dant catholique dans le leadership politique : Ie
conseil paroissial (dewan parokï) se compose de
l’instituteur, du chef de village (kepala de sa re-
connu par le gouvernement indonésien) et des chré-
tiens actifs parmi les représentants de la tradition
asmat (wair’ipitsj).
23 Précisons toutefois que l’explication donnée par les Asmat
est rarement aussi simpliste que ce que les missionnaire8
laissent entendre.
24 À l’exception d’une sœur infirmière travaillant pour le g°u'
vernement, ils reçurent quelques semaines de formation en
premiers soins ou se formèrent sur le tas.
25 C’est moins évident pour les catholiques : le célibat des
prêtres laissa les Asmat sceptiques, certains prêtres durent
être rapatriés pour des questions de comportement (auX
dires des protestants) et deux prêtres épousèrent des femme5
asmat.
Anthropos 101.2006
Un chapelet sur le caducée
525
Par ailleurs, les Croisiers ne surent pas tou-
jours s’entourer d’assistants capables d’inspirer
confiance à la population. Les catéchistes catho-
liques, comme certains prêtres, eurent tendance à
administrer des punitions corporelles aux écoliers
retardataires et à molester ceux qui choisissaient
d’inscrire leurs enfants à l’école protestante. Cer-
tains inventaient des histoires qui terrorisaient les
enfants, comme le livre noir dans lequel les protes-
tants étaient prétendus inscrire les noms des Asmat
en partance pour l’enfer. Une erreur des Croisiers
fut sans doute de choisir leurs catéchistes parmi les
Mimika, les ennemis traditionnels des Asmat, et de
les former en quelques semaines, au contraire des
aides évangéliques de TEAM, originaires de Biak
et choisis au terme de trois ans d’école biblique.
Bien souvent, les catéchistes inspiraient crainte et
méfiance, tout comme les prêtres. Dans les pre-
miers temps, certains prêtres furent tenus pour res-
ponsables d’épidémies déclarées après leur départ
du village, ce qui ne semble pas être arrivé aux
missionnaires protestants. Actuellement, on n’en
est plus à ces comportements extrêmes : la tendance
des Asmat est plutôt de dire que “les missionnaires
n’y comprennent rien”.
La mort plurielle
Avant de poursuivre sur les réactions missionnaires
en matière de santé, une précision s’impose sur
les conceptions asmat à propos de la survenance
d’un décès. Chez les Asmat, la mort se déroule
en deux étapes successives : d’abord une perte de
conscience (mort avec le corps encore vivant, da-
mur), susceptible de revenir à la vie (bojaworsit),
suivie de la mort du corps (darminak), quant à elle
irréversible. Les Asmat pleurent le mort quand le
corps est encore vivant, à la différence des Awyu
voisins, qui attendent la mort physique. Il résulte
de ces distinctions factuelles que la résurrection
Parut banale aux Asmat, tout comme la création
du monde, absente des mythes,26 les laissa indiffé-
rents. Ce détachement par rapport aux arguments de
26 Au sujet des origines, les mythes relatent l’arrivée dans le
marais des douze ancêtres fondateurs. Sortis d’une grotte
des montagnes dont l’entrée était la bouche d’un immense
serpent, ils ont descendu la rivière Siretsj sur une longue pi-
rogue et créé les douze premiers villages. Chaque village pri-
mordial porte le nom de son fondateur (Uwus, par exemple,
fut fondé par Uwus’akhap). A côté de cela, le mythe de Fu-
mewr’ipitsj évoque la création des Mimika, issus de statues
sculptées par ce héros d’épopée à qui il donna la vie en
jouant du tambour. Par contre, les mythes sont silencieux
sur la création des Asmat et sur celle du monde, qui existait
déjà.
Anth
base des missionnaires les déconcerta totalement.
Par ailleurs, les missionnaires protestants tentèrent
de dissuader les Asmat de pleurer directement après
une morsure de serpent ou un arow ’pok (le sort de
maladie et de mort)27 et d’attendre que la personne
soit “bien morte” (y compris son corps physique)
avant d’abandonner tout espoir au dernier moment.
C’est le contraire pour les catholiques, qui in-
terviennent peu dans l’expression du deuil. Au ni-
veau des funérailles proprement dites, les mission-
naires protestants laissent les Asmat s’organiser
eux-mêmes. Comme l’issue du jugement dépend de
la grâce divine, la prière aux morts - considérés
comme des intermédiaires - est inutile, puisqu’on
peut s’adresser à Dieu directement. Au contraire,
il est normal pour les catholiques de prier pour les
morts et pour les saints. Le prêtre participe en partie
aux funérailles ; cependant, les cérémonies chré-
tienne et asmat se déroulent dans espaces-temps
distincts, ce qui est révélateur quant au refus asmat
de l’inculturation en profondeur.
Des médicaments contre la thanatomanie
Ces notions relatives à la mort me permettent d’in-
troduire un autre volet de la santé : il s’agit d’un état
particulier de la conscience qui incite une personne
à mourir “sur commande” (“mort de peur” selon
les termes de Ken Dresser,28 ou “thanatomanie”
selon van Amelsvoort [19761). Le scénario est inva-
riable : un homme dans la force de l’âge proclame
sa mort prochaine en public pour cause d’arow’pok
puis il rentre chez lui et s’allonge pour ne plus se
relever. Faute de recours possible, sa famille com-
mence aussitôt à le pleurer : avant d’être mort bio-
logiquement, il est mort socialement. C’est la “mort
avec le corps encore vivant” (damur) abordée pré-
cédemment. La rigidité du corps est dite spectacu-
laire, mais je n’eus personnellement pas l’opportu-
nité d’assister directement au phénomène.29 Dave
27 Abraham ne parvient pas toujours à débarrasser son patient
d’un arow’pok pernicieux. Il est par ailleurs moins bien payé
que les arow’ipitsj, qui reçoivent une hache de pierre contre
une boulette de sagou pour les eeram’ipitsj. L’arow ’pok
s’acquiert par l’échange. Il en existe une forme marginale
qui, intégrée dans une sculpture par un artisan particulière-
ment doué, se transforme en crocodile ou en serpent pour
occire un parent encombrant.
28 Dans un entretien, il cita le cas d’un homme qui mourut une
heure après avoir rencontré un esprit mauvais (evil spirit)
dans la jungle.
29 Une histoire de cet ordre eut lieu dans mon village d’adop-
tion lors de mon dernier séjour en Asmat en 2004. Je me
trouvais à Agats quand des membres de ma famille m’ap-
prirent le décès de Karel, l’instituteur. Karel avait rêvé du
Topos 101.2006
526
Astrid de Hontheim
Gallus OSC souligne le pouvoir de la suggestion :
si l’on dit à un Asmat qu’il va mourir, il mourra.30
En région asmat, ces histoires de “catalepsie”
sont pléthore et ceux des Croisiers qui s’en sont
aperçus tentèrent de rallier les acteurs à leurs
contre explications, apparemment davantage par
acquit de conscience que par certitude de parvenir
à les faire changer d’avis.31 Et lorsque le proces-
sus était entamé, c’est-à-dire lorsque la personne
s’était déjà couchée pour mourir, ils réagirent tous
par la même attitude : la résignation. Tous, sauf
l’évêque. Au contraire de ses collègues pantois de-
vant l’incroyable, Alphonse Sowada s’employa à
lutter contre ce qu’il qualifiait de “dérèglements
psychologiques” en utilisant des méthodes mus-
clées pour prouver que “la magie n’existe pas”.
Une histoire est racontée dans un article (So-
wada 1968 : 201) et précisée dans un entretien en
2003. Un homme de 25 ans environ s’abstint un
jour de travailler, victime d’un arow’pok. Tan-
dis que la famille entonnait les hymnes de mort,
l’évêque, appelé à la rescousse par un paroissien,
se rendit au chevet du moribond. Pas convaincu, il
le gifla : cette méthode avait fait ses preuves à plu-
sieurs reprises. Cette fois pourtant, ce fut un échec.
Peu démonté, l’évêque souleva le corps inanimé et
le précipita contre un des piliers de soutènement
de la maison. L’homme ouvrit les yeux. L’évêque
l’assit alors et lui donna du tabac à fumer. Le priant
ensuite de le suivre jusqu’à la scierie, il lui déclara
que sa maladie était terminée et qu’il pouvait re-
prendre le travail.
Face à une telle situation, les protestants ré-
agissent de manière inattendue ; en bons médecins,
courroux ancestral en raison du retard pris pendant la fête
des esprits pour la sortie des masques. En punition, les an-
cêtres devaient prendre plusieurs vies, dont la sienne. Le
lendemain du rêve, il répéta le message ancestral dans la
maison des hommes et le surlendemain, il était mort, malgré
la désapprobation violente de son épouse me précisa-t-on.
Plusieurs villageois se rendirent aussitôt à Agats pour racon-
ter l’événement, et c’est ainsi que je l’appris.
30 II y aurait un intéressant précédent à ce phénomène dans
le domaine de la psychiatrie, étudié par Milton H. Erikson,
selon qui un homme aurait annoncé la date et l’heure de
sa mort prochaine et serait mort effectivement à l’hôpital à
l’heure prédite sous observation médicale, sans qu’aucun des
tests effectués n’ait pu montrer d’autre cause au décès qu’un
exercice de la volonté.
31 Lors d’un entretien en 2003, le frère Joe OSC raconte le
cas d’un adolescent de seize ans qui déclara avoir rencontré
le Diable dans la forêt. Il était tellement mal en point que
ses condisciples de l’internat défilèrent pour prendre de ses
nouvelles. Il succomba le soir même, en dépit des tentatives
de Joe de lui dire qu’il se trompait. Cette anecdote se situe
entre 1966 et 1972. Sans doute jugée sans importance, cette
histoire ne figure pas dans ses mémoires (DeLouw 1996).
ils traitent les victimes de Y arow’pok comme un
malade. Considérant cette peur particulière comme
un dérèglement du système nerveux parasympa-
thique, ils leur administrent des tranquillisants,32
voire improvisent un traitement déclaré plus puis-
sant que le sort de mort. La confiance acquise par
les ministres protestants contribue vraisemblable-
ment à l’efficacité du traitement.
La foi est le meilleur médicament
Les approches thérapeutiques des uns et des autres
s’organisent dans des environnements culturels mu-
tuellement incompatibles et peu propices à l’exer-
cice d’une quelconque influence. Cela ne va pas
sans déranger les Croisiers, qui, pour se familiari-
ser avec les conceptions asmat et pallier ainsi leur
absence d’emprise sur les usages thérapeutiques,
tentèrent de se faire accepter de diverses manières
par les Asmat, notamment par l’adoption. Ils durent
faire face à une barrière infranchissable qui consista
en ceci que selon le Croisier Jim Remmerswaal, les
Asmat évaluent la qualité d’une relation à l’épais-
seur du sang qui lie les contractants. Or, ils durent
se rendre à l’évidence de la fluidité du sang entre
eux et les Asmat. Entre Asmat, la relation par le
sang est “plus épaisse” qu’avec un étranger, donc
de plus grande valeur. Comme nous l’avons vu avec
l’inculturation, les protestants préfèrent éviter l’in-
trusion culturelle, et s’abstiennent généralement de
se faire adopter (il y a des exceptions) tout comme
d’intervenir dans l’accouchement et dans l’éduca-
tion sexuelle des enfants. Leur rôle, (consciem-
ment ?) maintenu à la périphérie de la société as-
mat, est donc nettement défini par rapport à celui
des catholiques.
Malgré tout, les Croisiers se voient prêter une
sorte de charisme thérapeutique qui s’étend aux ac-
cessoires religieux33 et au fait de porter un nom
32 Dans une lettre de février 1979, Bob Frazier (1994:250)
raconte le cas d’un homme de 30 ans environ que sa fa-
mille emmène chez le médecin. En état de choc, terrorise,
l’homme parle difficilement et manque de souffle. Alors
qu’il cherchait du sagou avec sa femme dans la forêt, 0
avait marché sur un sort de mort, placé pour tuer. Bob D1
annonce que la prière est la seule réponse, s’assure de sa f°l
et lui annonce qu’il va sommer l’esprit mauvais de partir au
nom de Jésus. Puis il lui donne un tranquillisant et ordonne
à l’entourage de cesser les hymnes de mort.
33 D’après Virgil Petermeier OSC, les sacrements (en part1'
culier le baptême et la communion), l’eau bénite et le feU
de l’Avent se voient conférer des vertus protectrices tout
comme le chapelet, les médailles, le crucifix, la Bible et la
croix peuvent être utilisés à des fins thérapeutiques.
Anthropos 101-2006
Un chapelet sur le caducée
527
chrétien,34 susceptibles d’accélérer la guérison et
de contrer le mauvais sort. Comme pour les mé-
decins protestants, ces pouvoirs ne se substituent
pas à ceux d’un guérisseur traditionnel asmat mais
constituent une fonction nouvelle, “étrangère”. La
terminologie abonde dans ce sens : lorsqu’ils ap-
paraissent dans la conversation, les talents mission-
naires en matière de santé sont repris sous le terme
indonésien dukun (ou doktor) et non par les termes
asmat eeram’ipitsj ou damer’ipitsj. Ils s’ajoutent
aux techniques locales thérapeutiques et prophy-
lactiques et sont sollicités ensuite : on va d’abord
consulter le guérisseur traditionnel puis le prêtre
ou le médecin à l’occidentale. Ainsi, les mission-
naires sont cantonnés dans des mondes parallèles,
distincts, et opérant dans des espaces-temps diffé-
rents notamment dans les cérémonies de mariage et
des funérailles.
Le terme dukun comporte une connotation sul-
fureuse et péjorative, parfois apparentée à des re-
lations privilégiées avec Satan. Certains mission-
naires protestants en accusent volontiers leurs ho-
mologues catholiques, persuadés que les “hommes
médecine” - tolérés par les catholiques - et les
partisans des cultes du cargo sont systématique-
ment catholiques.35 Cette accusation est, dans une
certaine mesure, à mettre en rapport avec l’accent
mis par les protestants sur l’engagement person-
nel {personal commitment) envers le Christ, et de
leur hâte (urging) à faire examiner par les croyants
leur propre culture afin de déterminer ce qui est
susceptible de plaire à Dieu, et à se repentir de
ce qui pourrait ne pas lui plaire. Cet engagement
personnel conduit le croyant, guidé par le mission-
naire, à détruire ou à brûler les supports matériels
de la “magie” ; même réticent au départ, le nou-
veau croyant finirait spontanément par se résoudre
a cette extrémité, incommodé par des rêves ou par
34 D’après plusieurs Croisiers interrogés, le prénom chrétien
est un puissant incitant à se convertir au catholicisme car il
garantit à son porteur la protection et les caractéristiques de
son saint patron, à la façon des noms associés à la chasse aux
têtes de jadis.
35 Un contre-exemple notoire - mais apparemment inconnu des
missionnaires TEAM américains - est celui d’Abraham Bui-
pir, l’ancien dirigeant de l’Église protestante de Sjuru. Dans
le cadre de ses activités thérapeutiques, Abraham pratique ce
qu’il appelle la “prière traditionnelle” {doa adat en indoné-
sien). Il commence par accueillir une assemblée nombreuse
dans la jeuw (maison des hommes), dans la jungle ou en mer.
Puis il prie Dieu, surnommé Yo Smit (peut-être en rapport
avec Jan Smit, le seul Croisier mort en Asmat, tué en 1975)
ou ji’ipitsj (ce qui signifie “ancêtre masculin”) “parce qu’il
est au-dessus”, puis les ancêtres. L'eeram’pok proprement
dit est entamé après l’occurrence d’un événement inopiné,
comme s’égarer en forêt ou voir sa pirogue sombrer.
la sensation d’une présence néfaste que seule la
destruction du support ferait disparaître. Par contre,
du côté catholique, la foi ne prémunit pas le fidèle
contre les attaques de magie et, en conséquence, les
prêtres prêchent en défaveur de pratiques de type
arow’pok, tout en tolérant leur expression maté-
rielle.
Pour certains pasteurs protestants asmat, la foi
suffit à faire s’évanouir les esprits mauvais et à
rendre la magie inoffensive. Ils ont aussi tendance à
affirmer que les médicaments, les médecins et l’hô-
pital procèdent de Dieu, conformément au discours
missionnaire. Par extension, la victoire de la mé-
decine sur le syncrétisme “démoniaque” y apparaît
en filigrane, illustrée dans l’ouvrage de l’évangé-
liste Bob Frazier où l’auteur assimile “une épingle
médicale pour percer les ténèbres” (1994 : 82) à “la
parole divine”.
Eux aussi ont deux dieux
Alors que les protestants ne perdent pas de vue
leur objectif de conversion, la démarche d’évangé-
lisation des catholiques paraît noyée dans les ef-
forts consentis à la préservation de la culture. “Il
faut laisser les Asmat changer d’eux-mêmes”, dit
Alphonse Sowada, à l’opposé de ses homologues
protestants pour qui l’adhésion à l’Eglise implique
un changement non pas progressif, mais irréver-
sible et radical {complété turnaround) dans tous
les domaines de la vie du nouveau converti. L’en-
gagement intérieur envers Dieu {personal commit-
ment) est rendu public par le baptême et équivaut
à une renaissance {born again, rebirth). Certains
missionnaires protestants attribuent le syncrétisme
catholique à la focalisation qu’ils font sur la struc-
ture sociétaire plutôt que sur l’individu. En effet, la
transformation progressive de la société souhaitée
par les catholiques rend difficilement envisageable
la question du choix et de l’engagement personnel
radical, essentiels dans la conversion protestante.
Contre toute attente, l’objectif de conversion
reste présent chez les Croisiers selon un calcul sub-
til, que voici. Sans sauver d’abord la culture, dit
Alphonse Sowada, les missionnaires ne pouvaient
pas “faire grand-chose” au niveau de la religion.
Une base culturelle était nécessaire comme “base
culturelle de foi” sur laquelle les missionnaires
pouvaient construire la religion chrétienne et sans
laquelle les Asmat n’auraient jamais compris la
Bible. Du point de vue protestant, la Bible n’est
compréhensible que traduite en langue locale ; c’est
la raison pour laquelle les missionnaires (Cal Roes-
ler à Ayam, Margaret Struiger à Senggo et Bernita
Anthropos 101.2006
528
Astrid de Hontheim
Preston à Yaosakor) ont utilisé leurs compétences
de linguistes pour traduire le Nouveau Testament
en langue asmat. Si la conversion implique d’être
capable de comprendre la Bible, celle des Asmat
est à remettre en question car le séjour de terrain
montre qu’ils préfèrent généralement la version in-
donésienne à la version asmat, qu’ils disent trop
complexe.36
Conclusions
Tout au long de cet article, les résultats de cinquante
ans de christianisation se sont profilés. Actuelle-
ment, aucun Croisier ne prétend que les Asmat sont
convertis. Les évangéliques de la TEAM non plus,
hormis quelques croyants dont la fidélité ils mettent
en exergue la fidélité. Et parmi ces croyants, la plu-
part ont “deux dieux” à la façon d’Abraham, séduits
par le syncrétisme que leurs guides spirituels amé-
ricains trouvent si condamnable. Si les Asmat ne se
sont pas vraiment approprié le christianisme pour
fonder une Eglise asmat, répondant à la définition
de l’inculturation ou de la contextualisation, ils en
ont toutefois adopté certains aspects.
Malgré tout, du côté catholique, plusieurs Croi-
siers reconnaissent que leurs tentatives d’évangé-
liser ont abouti à un christianisme de surface,
sans véritable transformation des conceptions re-
ligieuses asmat. L’un d’eux affirme même qu’il
y a une opposition entre le christianisme et “les
croyances originales des Asmat, leurs usages, leur
manière de vivre, ce qu’ils faisaient”. Ce n’est
pourtant pas faute d’avoir essayé. Les difficultés
rencontrées par les Croisiers à impliquer les As-
mat dans le message chrétien se révèlent à la va-
riété de leurs stratégies. Dans l’espoir de gagner
leur confiance, ils les instruisirent, les soignèrent
et reconstruisirent leurs maisons. Ils stimulèrent
la production artistique sous forme de ventes aux
enchères et de création de musées. Ils se lan-
cèrent dans des entreprises de développement éco-
nomique, espérant en faire une base pour la com-
préhension du christianisme. Ils prirent part active
aux fêtes et jouèrent le jeu de l’adoption. Et surtout,
ils mélangèrent des éléments de la vie quotidienne
asmat aux offices religieux et aux rites de trans-
formation du cycle de la vie (baptême, mariage,
funérailles), dans l’espoir de réussir l’inculturation
de la société asmat. Cependant, comme Frank Tren-
kenschuh OSC l’avoua à O’Neil (1996 : 26) : “Nous
pouvons nous ouvrir l’esprit aussi grand que pos-
sible, mais nous ne pourrons jamais voir le monde
comme les Asmat”. Cela rejoint la remarque de
Maurier (1993 : 202) : “Elle [l’inculturation] est ra-
rement ce que le missionnaire attendait”.
Références citées
Amelsvoort, V. van
1976 Thanatomania in an Asmat Community. A Report of
Successful “Western” Treatment. Tropical and Geo-
graphical Medicine 28: 244-248.
DeLouw, J.
1996 My Field Has Been the World. The Memoirs of Brother
Joseph DeLouw, OSC. Onamia: Crosier Press.
Frazier, B., and D. Frazier
1994 Our Passionate Journey. The Exciting Chronicles of Two
Ordinary People. Toccoa Falls: Toccoa Falls College.
Grijp, P. van der
1993 Christian Confrontations in Paradise. Catholic Prosely-
tizing of a Protestant Mission in Oceania. Anthropos 88:
135-152.
Maurier, H.
1993 Les missions. Religions et civilisations confrontées à
1’universalisme. Contribution à une histoire en cours.
Paris : Les Éditions du Cerf.
O’Neil, T.
1996 Irian Jaya. National Geographic 189/2: 2-33.
Sowada, A.
1968 New Guinea’s Fierce Asmat. A Heritage of Headhunt-
ing. In: Vanishing Peoples of the Earth; pp. 186-203.
Washington: National Geographic Society.
Torjesen, E. P.
1984 A Study of Fredrik Franson. The Development and Im-
pact of His Ecclesiology, Missiology, and Worldwide
Evangelism. Los Angeles: International College. [Ph. V-
dissertation]
36 Cela tient vraisemblablement à la qualité de la traduction
ou à l’incapacité des missionnaires évangélistes à utiliser
un langage proche des populations pour s’être systématique-
ment maintenus en périphérie de la société asmat.
Anthropos 101.2006
Anthropos
101.2006: 529-540
“Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze,
wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...”
Deixis, Ritualgesänge und die Glaubwürdigkeit
der Geistverkörperung in der brasilianischen Umbanda
Christian Meyer
Abstract. - In the rituals of Brazilian Umbanda invoked spirits,
embodied by devotees in trance, speak with the visitors present
in the cult house. For the audience, the embodiment creates a
difference between the sound-making biological individual of
the medium and the social person of the spirit who speaks. In
order to understand what the speaking persona refers to when
Using deictical expressions such as “here,” “there,” “I,” or “we,”
the interlocutor, therefore, needs contextual knowledge about
the spirits. This, as the article argues, is created by ritual chants.
Since the devotees draw on them when they try to understand the
speaking of the spirits, ritual chants are an important source for
the credibility of embodiment practices in the Umbanda. [Brazil,
Umbanda, deixis, ritual, chants, pragmatics, embodiment]
Christian Meyer, M. A. (1998), Dr. phil. (2003), wissenschaft-
licher Mitarbeiter am Institut für Ethnologie und Afrikastudien
der Johannes Gutenberg-Universität Mainz. Z. Zt. Leiter eines
Forschungsprojekts über “Persuasive Kommunikation bei den
^olof. Das Zusammenspiel sprachlicher und kultureller Aspek-
te”- - Zu seinen Arbeitsschwerpunkten gehören Religions-,
Politik- und linguistische Ethnologie, Senegal (Wolof), afrobra-
s'lianische Religionen (Umbanda, Candomblé) und vergleichen-
de Ethnologie amerikanischer Indianer. - Publikationen u. a.:
‘Mahnen, Prahlen, Drohen ... ’ Rhetorik und politische Orga-
nisation amerikanischer Indianer” (Frankfurt 2005).
beixis und Deixis am Phantasma
Im Verlauf der meisten kommunikativen Hand-
lungen werden deiktische Ausdrücke verwendet:
Wird etwa, im Rahmen eines Gesprächs, der Aus-
druck ich verwendet, so lässt sich die damit be-
zeichnete Person nur ermitteln, wenn man weiß,
wer der Sprecher der Äußerung ist; entsprechend
ist das Wissen darum, w o eine Äußerung gemacht
wird, für das richtige Verständnis des Ausdrucks
hier unabdingbar; und, analog dazu, lässt sich dem
Wort jetzt eine Bedeutung, besser; Referenz, erst
nach Beantwortung der Frage, w a n n die Äußerung
stattgefunden hat, zuweisen” (Sitta 1991: 1). Deik-
tika sind also diejenigen Ausdrücke im Gespräch,
die den Sprecher, Hörer oder Gegenstand der Äu-
ßerung im Raum, in der Zeit und in Bezug auf
die Handlung (Autor und Gegenstand der Hand-
lung) einordnen. Nur die Partikularität einer Si-
tuation macht eine Aussage überhaupt verstehbar:
“Die Proposition, die durch einen Satz in einem
Kontext ausgesprochen wird, ist eine Funktion von
möglichen Welten und jenem Kontext auf Wahr-
heitswerte. Ein Kontext ist hier eine Gruppe von ...
Referenzpunkten ... für Sprecher, Adressaten, Äu-
ßerungszeiten und -orte, aufgezeigte Objekte und
alles sonst Benötigte. Sätze können deshalb bei ver-
schiedenen Gebrauchsgelegenheiten verschiedene
Propositionen ausdrücken” (Levinson 1994; 59f.;
Herv. des Autors wurden weggelassen).
Oft aber sehen beide Gesprächspartner die Din-
ge, auf die sie sich deiktisch beziehen, nicht direkt
vor Augen, wie z. B. bei einem Telefongespräch,
bei einer Wegbeschreibung oder in fiktiven Erzäh-
lungen. Die Hörer müssen sich Ort, Zeitpunkt und
530
Christian Meyer
handelnde Person vorstellen. In Wegbeschreibun-
gen beziehen sich Ausdrücke wie “links”, “rechts”,
“vorne” und “dort” jeweils auf die relative Positi-
on des Gehenden und sind nur aus ihr heraus ver-
ständlich. An die Stelle der Wahrnehmung kann
die Erinnerung treten, falls Sprecher und Hörer die
beschriebenen Orte bereits kennen, oder aber die
Vorstellungskraft, falls der Hörer oder beide Inter-
aktanten die örtlichen Gegebenheiten oder die Ak-
teure der Erzählung imaginieren.
Eine solche deiktische Imagination nennt Büh-
ler (1965: 123) “Deixis am Phantasma”. Diese,
so Bühler (123) spielt sich “im Bereich der aus-
gewachsenen Erinnerungen und der konstruktiven
Phantasie” ab. Bühler (1965: 124f.) erläutert das
Besondere an der Deixis am Phantasma: “Wenn
ein Erzähler den Hörer ins Reich des abwesend
Erinnerbaren oder gar ins Reich der konstruktiven
Phantasie führt und ihn dort mit denselben Zeige-
wörtern traktiert, damit er sehe und höre, was es
dort zu sehen und zu hören (und zu tasten, ver-
steht sich, und vielleicht auch einmal zu riechen
und zu schmecken) gibt. Nicht mit dem äußeren
Auge, Ohr usw., sondern mit dem, was man ... das
innere Auge und Ohr zu nennen pflegt. ... Der am
Phantasma Geführte kann nicht dem Pfeile eines
vom Sprecher ausgestreckten Armes und Zeigefin-
gers mit dem Blicke folgen, um das Etwas dort
zu finden; er kann nicht die räumliche Herkunfts-
qualität des Stimmklanges ausnützen, um den Ort
eines Sprechers zu finden, welcher hier sagt; er
hört in der geschriebenen Sprache auch nicht den
Stimmcharakter eines abwesenden Sprechers, wel-
cher ich sagt.” Die Deixis am Phantasma kann also
im Idealfall eine imaginäre Welt synästhetisch, in
allen Sinnen und fast real erfahrbar machen. Von
Deixis am Phantasma wird somit dann gesprochen,
wenn die Origo (Ort-, Zeitpunkt-, Agenspositionie-
rung), an dem ein Sprecher sich orientiert, nicht mit
der Origo, von der aus er spricht, übereinstimmt.
Bühler unterscheidet drei “Hauptfälle” der Deixis
am Phantasma.
a) Der Sprecher behält seine Original-Origo
bei, wie z. B. in: “Er fuhr nach Rom; dort blieb er
zwei Tage.”
b) Der Sprecher versetzt seine Origo entspre-
chend der Bewegung der imaginierten Figur, wie
z. B. in: “Er fuhr nach Rom; hier blieb er zwei
Tage” (beide Bsp. sind angelehnt an Brugmann
1904:42, zit. in Sitta 1991: 9).
c) Der Sprecher behält zunächst seine Original-
Origo bei, vergegenwärtigt sich dann die Origo der
imaginierten Figur aber von seiner eigenen Origo
aus, wie es z. B. bei der Verwendung des Plusquam-
perfekts geschieht: “Letzten Monat habe ich mein
altes Auto verkauft; ein neues hatte ich ja schon
drei Monate zuvor gekauft.”
In allen drei Fällen handelt es sich um Möglich-
keiten der Versetzung von Sprecher und Hörer in ei-
ne Vorstellungswelt, in der dann Bewegungen und
Orientierungen gedacht und kommuniziert werden
können. Während der erste Fall die Distanz zwi-
schen Hörer und Gegenstand wahrt, veranlasst ihn
der zweite Fall, sich mit dem Protagonisten zu iden-
tifizieren. Der dritte Fall oszilliert zwischen Distanz
und Identifikation.
In fiktiven Erzählungen wird die Ich-Origo im
Allgemeinen nicht versetzt. Genau dies geschieht
aber in der Umbanda, einer Variante des großen
Spektrums synkretistischer Religionen in Brasili-
en. Denn sie zeichnet sich dadurch aus, dass in
ihren Ritualen Gläubige in der Trance Geistwesen
verkörpern, die, während sie inkarniert sind, auch
mit den Anwesenden sprechen, sich mit ihnen un-
terhalten, sie segnen, beraten, mit ihnen scherzen,
sie anführen und necken. In den Gesprächen ver-
wenden sie deiktische Ausdrücke, die sich an der
Origo des Geistwesens orientieren und daher den
Hörem nicht “vor Augen liegen”. Die Hörer ken-
nen die Orte nicht, die der Geist als “bei mir zu
Hause” beschreibt. Noch nicht einmal das “ich”
ist ihnen unmittelbar augenscheinlich, da sich hin-
ter der den Anwesenden in der Regel bekannten
Person des Mediums ein fremder Geist verbirgt,
der das Bewusstsein des Mediums kontrolliert und
“verdeckt”. Durch die Verkörperung entsteht somit
ein “Sprung” oder “Bruch”, eine Derridasche diffé-
rance in der Origo des Sprechers.
Die Umbanda
Zunächst soll kurz die Umbanda vorgestellt wer-
den. Als “Neureligion” ist sie Anfang des 20. Jhs.
auf der Basis bereits existierender synkretistischer
Religionen aus Bantu-Vorstellungen und dem por-
tugiesischen Populärkatholizismus entstanden. In
diese wurden Vorstellungen des Spiritismus sowie
später der Yomba-Traditionen des Candomblé in-
tegriert. Die Umbanda-Anhänger berufen sich auf
verschiedene Einflüsse aus aller Welt, die sich in
Brasilien, einem kulturell wie religiös überaus
heterogenen Land, konzentriert haben. Neben der
kulturellen Mischung haben weitere, spezifisch
brasilianische Bedingungen, wie eine rapide Urba-
nisierung und Industrialisierung in den 20er und
30er Jahren des 20. Jhs., die Grundlage für die
Entstehung und die nachfolgende rasche Verbrei-
tung der Umbanda geschaffen. Zentrales Prinzip
der Umbanda ist die Nächstenliebe, deren Aus-
Anthropos 101.2006
“Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze, wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...
531
Übung es den Verstorbenen ermöglichen soll, ins
Paradies (Amanda, Juremä)1 aufzusteigen. Das in
seinem realen Leben aufgebrachte Maß an Nächs-
tenliebe bestimmt den Erleuchtungsgrad eines In-
dividuums nach seinem Tod. Damit die Geister der
Verstorbenen Nächstenliebe praktizieren können,
werden sie von Medien (Gläubigen) in der Trance
verkörpert. Die Medien zeigen während der Trance
bisweilen besondere Befähigungen, etwa indem sie
über Scherben oder glühende Kohlen laufen oder
stundenlange eloquente Stegreifreden halten.
Je nach dem Erleuchtungsgrad gliedern sich die
Geister unter dem katholischen Gott, der auch mit
dem Bantu wort Zambi bezeichnet wird, in einer
Hierarchie, die, oben beginnend, Orixäs (Natur-
gottheiten des Yoruba-Pantheons), Caboclos (In-
dio- und Mestizengeister), Crian^as (Kindergeis-
ter), Preto-Velhos (Geister alter Sklaven) und Po-
vo da Rua (Volk der Straße; Gauner-, Prostituier-
ten-, Hexen- und Zigeunerinnengeister) umfasst.
Weitere Geistwesen sind individuelle Schutzengel
(Guias) sowie Totengeister.
Das Problem der Deixis in der Interaktion
mit Geistwesen
Vor dem Hintergmnd der oben angesprochenen
Deixis-Problematik stellen sich nun die folgenden
Fragen: Wie können die Anwesenden die in der
Konversation mit den Geistern verwendeten deik-
tischen Ausdrücke verstehen, ohne dass diese je-
des Mal expliziert werden? Wenn ein Geistwesen
spricht (wenn es deiktische Begriffe wie “ich” oder
“wir” verwendet), wie erkennt man, wer das ist,
der spricht (da dies ja nicht die körperliche Per-
son des Mediums ist)? Wenn ein Geistwesen “hier”
Und “dort” sagt, was sehr häufig vorkommt, woher
^eiß man, worauf sich das bezieht? Wie also wird
der durch die Verkörperung entstehende Origo-
“Bruch” bzw. -“Sprung” überwunden? Im Folgen-
den sollen einige Beispiele für diese Problematik
angeführt werden.2 Die Zitate sind, wie in der ge-
sprochenen Sprache üblich, nicht immer gramma-
tikalisch richtig. Im Falle des Caboclo Sete Estre-
las (Sieben Sterne) kommt eine stark verfremde-
te und agrammatische Sprechweise v. a. bezüglich
t Der Begriff “Amanda” geht offensichtlich auf den Ein-
schiffhafen Luanda zurück (vgl. Cacciatore 1977: 52; Lopes
1997: 35); zu “Juremä” s. u.
2 Die im Text genannten Beispiele wurden bei einer achtmo-
natigen vom DAAD finanzierten Feldforschung in Rio de
Janeiro im Jahr 1997 aufgenommen. Adressaten der Äuße-
rungen waren anwesende, im jeweiligen Kulthaus initiierte
Gläubige.
der Aussprache und der Verwendung der gramma-
tischen Person und des Genus hinzu, welche die
mangelnden Portugiesischkenntnisse des indiani-
schen Geistes verdeutlichen soll.
(1) 16. August 1997, Ze Pelintra (“Sepp
Gernegroß”, wie Figge 1973: 27 ihn nennt):
Lä em cima a gente desce e fica aqui ein baixo, tä
entendendo? Agora, logo em cima, logo em cima, acima
estamos nös, e logo em cima estäo os anjos. E mais
acima tä o Senhor de Todo Mundo, entendeu? Säo tres
cämadas, entendeu? Se a senhora acredita, com o lado
de lä, de lä de cima e o Deus de voces. E eie ..., pede a
eie e a gente vem. Ou pede a nös que a gente chega. E a
gente vai lä e bota eles prafora.
Von da oben steigen wir herab und bleiben hier unten,
klar? Nun, gleich darüber, gleich darüber, darüber sind
wir, und gleich darüber sind die Engel. Und weiter dar-
über ist der Herr der ganzen Welt, klar? Es sind drei
Schichten, verstehst Du? Wenn Sie glauben, mit der an-
deren Seite, dort oben ist Euer Gott. Und er ..., bitten
Sie ihn und wir kommen. Oder bitten Sie uns, dass wir
kommen. Und wir gehen dorthin und werfen sie hinaus.
Einer der Geister der Unterwelt (“Volk der Stra-
ße”), Ze Pelintra, erklärt hier die Kosmologie der
Umbanda. Er spricht zum einen in räumlichen
Deiktika (“da oben”, “hier unten”, “darüber”, “da”,
“dort”, “dorthin”), wobei die Origo der Ort und
Zeitpunkt seiner Anwesenheit und Verkörperung
im Medium ist. Er erzeugt hier einen imaginären
dreischichtigen Raum, der von göttlichen und geis-
tigen Wesen bevölkert ist. Zum anderen spricht er
in personalen Deiktika, insbesondere von “wir”,
ohne jedoch zu erklären, wer genau damit ge-
meint ist. Woher wissen die Anwesenden, wer diese
Schichten bevölkert und wie die Charaktere sich
jeweils gestalten?
(2) 17. Mai 1997, Iraja, Rio de Janeiro,
Tranca Ruas:
Toda hora, todo dia, todos minutos. Eu e meus capan-
gueiros, eu e meus falangeiros, eu e minhas companhei-
ras, eu e meu povo lä em cima. Tudo nessa terra sempre
guardando vocês, na paz, amor e harmonia, na luz do Pai
Divino, axé!
Zu jeder Stunde, an jedem Tag, in jeder Minute. Ich und
meine Gefolgsleute, ich und meine Truppe, ich und mei-
ne Gefährtinnen, ich und meine Leute dort oben. Alles
in dieser Welt ist immer dabei, auf Euch aufzupassen,
in Frieden, Liebe und Harmonie, im Licht des göttlichen
Vaters, axél
^nthropos 101.2006
532
Christian Meyer
Axé bedeutet in den afrobrasilianischen Religio-
nen Lebenskraft oder Segen. Ein anderer Exü-
Geist, Tranca Ruas (Straßensperrer), spricht hier
von “sich” und “seinen Leuten.” Wenn man das
Geistwesensystem der Umbanda nicht kennt, kann
man diese Aussage nicht verstehen. Wer ist das
“ich”, das hier spricht? Wer sind seine Leute, seine
Gefolgsleute, seine Truppe, seine Gefährtinnen?
(3) 23. April 1997, Santa Tereza, Rio de Janeiro,
Caboclo Sete Estrelas:
Na nossa terra, na nossa Jurema tem muita mironga. ...
Entäo chegou eu, diz eu, minha, minha pai, diz eu: minha
pai, voce foi a ünica boca que acertou, hojefaz tres anos
que eu tö na sua terra. Eu diz: o mogo, eu diz: eu sei
quantos anos foi, näo e mesmo?
In unserer Welt, in unserem Jurema gibt es viel Gezänk.
... Also ist (ich) gekommen, und sagt, meine, meine
Vater, sagt ich: meine Vater, Du warst der einzige Mund,
der das Richtige getroffen (gesagt) hat, heute sind es drei
Jahre, dass ich in Deinem Land bin. Ich sagt: Junge, sagt
ich: ich weiß, wie viele Jahre es war, nicht wahr?
Der Caboclo Sete Estrelas, der hier beweist, dass
er als Indio nur rudimentär Portugiesisch spricht,
unterscheidet zwischen seiner Welt und der Welt
der Adressaten. Ferner spricht er von seinem Vater
und dessen Land. Wie können sich die Anwesenden
etwas unter diesen unterschiedlichen Welten vor-
stellen?
Temporaideixis wird in den Konversationen mit
Umbanda-Geistwesen in der Regel nicht zum Pro-
blem, da Zeit in der Umbanda vermutlich als uni-
versell angesehen wird (s. Bsp. 2). Ob die Zeit nach
Auffassung der Umbandisten im Diesseits und im
Jenseits tatsächlich gleich schnell vergeht, ist je-
doch unklar. Wie dem auch sei, deiktische Zeit-
versetzungen werden grundsätzlich selten vorge-
nommen. Raum- und Personaldeixis sind, wie sich
gezeigt hat, jedoch durchaus problematisch, und sie
werden sehr oft verwendet, um die Differenz zwi-
schen der sprechenden Person und der verkörpern-
den Person, der Geist- und der Menschkategorie
sowie dem Diesseits und dem Jenseits diskursiv zu
etablieren.
Die Personaldeixis hängt somit vom Wissen ab,
das die Anwesenden darüber besitzen, a) ob es ein
Geistwesen oder das Mediums ist, das spricht, und
b) falls es ein Geistwesen ist, was dessen Aussehen,
Charakter und lebensgeschichtlicher Hintergrund
sind.
a) Um für die Anwesenden klar kenntlich zu
machen, wann die Person, der Agens des jewei-
ligen Mediums vom gläubigen Umbanda-Adepten
oder -Priester zum Geistwesen wechselt, d. h. wann
ein fremder Geist in den Körper eines Mediums
hinein- bzw. wieder aus ihm herausfährt, wird
dieser Zeitpunkt im Ritualverlauf (der Liturgie)
genau markiert. Das Geistwesen wird in Ritual-
gesängen gerufen und manifestiert sich nach ei-
niger Zeit im Medium. Für die Anwesenden ist
durch die konvulsiven Bewegungen, die das Me-
dium vollführt, während es in Trance fällt, klar
erkenntlich, wann ein Geist ein- und wieder aus-
tritt. Der liminale Moment ist deutlich erkennbar.
Die verschiedenen Geistkategorien haben hierbei
unterschiedliche Angewohnheiten, in das Medium
einzudringen; Orixäs steigen von oben in den Kopf,
Caboclos kommen heftig und direkt von vome,
Kinder kriechen die Beine hoch. Exüs kommen von
verschiedenen Richtungen, mal von unten, mal von
der Seite, immer etwas unvorhergesehen. Diesen
Zeitpunkt der Inkarnation behalten die Anwesen-
den im Kopf, um zu wissen, wer es jeweils ist, der
spricht.
Auch die spezifischen Sprechgewohnheiten der
einzelnen Geister weisen darauf hin, ob es sich
um ein Geistwesen oder um die Person des gläu-
bigen Mediums handelt, das spricht. Den Rah-
men jedoch, der dazu führt, dass die Anwesenden
jederzeit darüber informiert sind, dass ein Geist
präsent ist und welcher es ist, erschafft weniger
die formalisierte Redeweise der Geister als viel-
mehr die Sprechsituation innerhalb der Liturgie des
Umbanda-Rituals. Irvine (1982: 252) hat den Ritu-
alkontext mit dem rituellen Sprechen korreliert und
folgende Beziehung festgestellt:
There is an inverse relationship between the symbolic
forms [das rituelle Sprechen] and their setting [der ritu-
elle Kontext], such that if the one is marked or special,
the other may be unmarked or ordinary. “Ritual,” that
is to say some special, conventional Organization of be-
havioural sequences, is most required in just those cases
where spirits use the Speech of everyday life. Where Spir-
its use a different code, a ritual context does not seem to
be required, although it may occur.
In der Umbanda ist das rituelle Sprechen nicht wie
in vielen Ritualen “formal, formulaic, and paralel-
listic” (Fox 1988: 12, so z. B. bei den Pfingstlern
Goodman 1994: 49), sondern es erweist sich als
sehr kreativ und spontan, und der verkörperte Geist
hat viel Spielraum für individuelle Ideen. Das ri-
tuelle Sprechen ist nur insofern formalisiert, als es
den Geistern (bzw. den Medien in der Geistverkör-
perung) gelingen muss, über Stunden hinweg im'
mer den gleichen Charakter darzustellen und bei
Anthropos 101.2006
“Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze, wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...
533
den Anwesenden das gleiche Rollenverhalten zu
produzieren. Doch ist es, im Gegensatz zum Spre-
chen der “inspirierten” Quaker (Bauman 1983),
unterscheidbar von dem alltäglichen Sprechen: Es
existieren einprägsame Charakteristika des spezifi-
schen Sprechens der Geister. Die Information, dass
es ein Geist aus dem Jenseits ist, der spricht, erhal-
ten die Anwesenden in der Umbanda z. B. durch
eine verfremdete Sprechweise und Lexik.
(b) Bislang ist aber noch nicht klar geworden,
woher die anwesenden Gläubigen Informationen
über, wie bereits angesprochen, Aussehen, Charak-
ter und Lebensgeschichte der Geistwesen erhalten.
Im Folgenden soll gezeigt werden, dass das zum
Verständnis des “Sprechens der Geister” notwen-
dige Kontextwissen vor allem durch die Ritualge-
sänge der Umbanda transportiert wird (vgl. auch
Brazeal 2003: 648).
Ritualgesänge der Umbanda
Nicht nur zum Rufen und Verabschieden der Geist-
Wesen sind in den Ritualen der Umbanda Lieder
und Gesänge von großer Bedeutung, denn sie über-
tragen, so die Auffassung der Umbandisten, zu-
sammen mit der Anwesenheit und Berührung der
Geister und den pontos riscados (kabbalistischen
Zeichen) zudem Vibrationen, die zur Heilung oder
zum Eintritt in die Trance notwendig sind. Ethno-
logische Forschungen bestätigen, dass in vielen Re-
ligionen zur Induktion der Trance Trommelschläge
und -rhythmen sowie Gesänge verwendet werden
(vgl. z. B. Rouget 1985; Lapassade 1990: 24-26).
Während der gesamten Rituale der Umbanda
Wird fast ununterbrochen gesungen. Das gemeinsa-
me Singen hat eine stark suggestive Wirkung und
unterstützt das Gemeinschafts- und Glaubensge-
fühl der Anwesenden, es ist “eine Form der milden
Magie” (Henry 1988: 64). Das Wissen der Gläu-
bigen über die Geistwesen ist stark von den Tex-
ten der Umbanda-Lieder geprägt und die Zuschau-
er können häufig Dutzende der Liedtexte aus dem
Gedächtnis singen. Selbst die jüngsten Besucher
kennen schon die meisten der Lieder mit sechs bis
2ehn Jahren auswendig. In der Forschungsliteratur
2ur Umbanda wurde bisher wenig über die Bedeu-
tung der Lieder gesagt. Gabriel (1985: 209-214)
erwähnt sie als Mittel zur Weitergabe von Kult-
Bissen, als Mittel um “die Stimmung anzuheizen”
uud als Füllsel zwischen den eigentlich bedeutsa-
men Passagen. Hinzu komme, dass mit den Tex-
ten Fragen beantwortet werden oder Symbolisie-
rUngen kommentiert würden, wenn zum Beispiel
ein Caboclo- oder Exü-Geist eine Flasche zerbre-
che und dabei singe: “Ich zerbreche keine Fla-
schen, ich zerbreche bösen Zauber” (Gabriel 1985:
211).
Ferretti (1994a, 1994b) wertet sie als wichtiges
Medium zur Beschreibung der Geistcharaktere und
zur Konstruktion von Bildern über sie. Sie ent-
hüllten die Werte, die mit diesen assoziiert und
über sie transportiert werden. In der Mina-Religion
von Säo Luis do Maranhäo werden Caboclos als
“sehr alte” “menschliche oder menschenähnliche”
Wesen “adeligen Ursprungs” dargestellt, die “an
verschiedenen Orten” “an der Küste oder in den
Dünen” wohnten und bereits viele “Katastrophen”
und “Unglücke” “überstanden” hätten. Es seien
“kriegerische”, “mutige” Wesen, die auf die Erde
kämen, um den Menschen zu “helfen” und “bei-
zustehen”, “böse Zauber zu bekämpfen” oder Bot-
schaften “des Vaters” oder des “Türkenkönigs” zu
überbringen. Sie führt diese Gedanken jedoch nicht
weiter aus.
Megenney (1989) fand in seiner Analyse von
Umbanda- und Candomblé-Liedtexten heraus, dass
in diesen in beiden Fällen Wörter westafrikani-
schen Ursprungs dominieren. Für Brazeal (2003)
sind die Caboclo-Ritualgesänge des Candomblé die
Möglichkeit, Erfahrungen aus der brasilianischen
Vergangenheit in die afrobrasilianischen Traditio-
nen zu integrieren, eine Geographie mystischer Or-
te (wie Jurema, Amanda, Rom, Ungarn, China) zu
entwerfen und so zu einer einheitlichen Sicht auf
die brasilianische Realität zu gelangen. Nicht zu-
letzt hätten sie auch eine dezidiert ludische Funk-
tion, etwa wenn sie die Anwesenden zum Schnaps-
oder Biertrinken animieren (Brazeal 2003: 645).
Die Lieder werden aufgeteilt in Eröffnungslie-
der {pontos de abertura), die am Anfang des Ri-
tuals gesungen werden, Lieder für die einzelnen
Geister (pontos para as entidades), die während
ihrer Anwesenheit intoniert werden, und Schluss-
lieder (pontos de encerramento), die zur Beschie-
ßung des Rituals gesungen werden. Bei den Lie-
dern für die jeweiligen Geister unterscheidet man
zwischen Liedern zur Ankunft (pontos de chega-
da), die gesungen werden, um die Geistwesen zu
rufen, aber auch während sie bereits da sind, und
Liedern zum Aufstieg (pontos de subida), die ange-
stimmt werden, um die Geister zum Verlassen ihrer
Medien zu bewegen (für eine Auflistung von Lie-
dern siehe 3000 Pontos 1974). Zudem gibt es Lie-
der, die während der Verkörperung die Tänze und
Handlungen der Geistwesen kommentieren oder ih-
re Einstellungen gegenüber den Anwesenden oder
anderen Geistwesen z. T. in spöttischer Weise zum
Ausdruck bringen. Ich werde mich auf einige Lie-
der für die einzelnen Geistwesen beschränken, da
Vithropos 101.2006
534
Christian Meyer
ich die Bilder zeigen möchte, die sie über den Cha-
rakter, die Herkunft und das Aussehen der Geister
vermitteln.
Lieder für Caboclos
(4) Ö Jureminha,
Urubatäo estä chamando,
na sua mata virgem,
uma coral piou.
Oifirma ponto Jurema,
Rainha do Juremä.
Ela e Cabocla filha de Tupinambä.
Oh kleine Jurema,
Urubatäo ruft,
in seinem jungfräulichen Wald,
wo eine Korallenschlange fiepte.
Hallo, sing das Lied Jurema,
Königin des Juremä.
Sie ist Cabocla, Tochter der Tupinambä.
(5) Uma estrela cor de prata,
brilhando anunciou.
Era um caboclo que chegava.
Vinha a mando de Nosso Senhor,
eie e Caboclo, eie e Elecheiro,
eie e cagador,
eie e Caboclo Boiadeiro,
eie e lagador
Ein silberfarbener Stern
kündigte leuchtend an.
Es war ein Caboclo, der da kam.
Er kam im Auftrag Unseres Herrn,
er ist Caboclo, er ist Bogenschütze,
er ist Jäger,
er ist Caboclo Ochsentreiber,
er ist Lassowerfer.
In Lied (4) kommen bereits einige wichtige Moti-
ve vor: Jurema ist ein weit verbreiteter Name für
weibliche Caboclos. Als Bezeichnung der Frucht
des Jurema-Baumes (juremeira) und eines aus die-
ser hergestellten Getränkes evoziert er die Welt der
Indios sowie die Reinheit der Natur. Mit dem Be-
griff jurema wird auch “Unberührtheit”, ein Motiv,
das in der dritten Zeile bezüglich des (im Origi-
nal) jungfräulichen “Ur”-waldes wieder auftaucht,
und “Ursprünglichkeit” im Sinne von “Nicht-Dege-
neriertheit” assoziiert (vgl. auch Mota 1976). Das
Wort Juremä (männlich und auf der letzten Sil-
be betont) bezeichnet den Ort (das Dorf), an dem
die Caboclos im Jenseits wohnen. Im brasiliani-
schen Bundesstaat Säo Paulo existiert tatsächlich
eine Stadt namens Jurema.3 Das Motiv der fiepen-
den Korallenschlange verstärkt das Bild der unbe-
rührten, reinen Natur, mit dem Caboclos verbunden
werden. Ein verbreiteter Caboclo-Name ist “Koral-
lenschlange” (cobra coral). Der Name Urubatäo ist
aufgrund der Vorsilbe um- für Brasilianer unver-
kennbar indianischen Ursprungs, gleichzeitig evo-
ziert er das Wort urubü, das “Geier” bedeutet. Das
Suffix -äo ist das portugiesische Augmentativ (Ver-
größerungsform) und erweckt Assoziationen mit
Stärke und Mächtigkeit. Die Tupinambä, als letztes
Motiv des Liedes (4), sind die größte indianische
ethnische Gruppe Brasiliens. Bisweilen werden sie
auch personalisiert als Eigennamen von Geistwe-
sen (Caboclo Tupinambä) verwendet.
In Lied (5) taucht gleich zu Anfang der Stern
als wichtiges Symbol der Caboclos auf. Es wird
sehr häufig in den pontos riscados (den gemalten
“kabbalistischen Zeichen”) als Erkennungszeichen
für die Caboclo-Geister verwandt. Gleichzeitig er-
innert es an die christliche Weihnachtsgeschichte,
in der ein Stern die Geburt Jesu ankündigt. Das star-
ke Leuchten des Sterns evoziert die Lichtmetapher;
Das Leuchten des Sterns ist, so könnte man sagen,
auch das Leuchten des Caboclos. Auch der Caboclo
in Lied (5) kommt in Gottes Auftrag auf die Erde.
Der rhythmischere zweite Teil des Liedes ist
stark anaphorisch, ein Umstand der zur Akzelera-
tion des Liedes und zur Wirkungssteigerung führt.
In ihm werden die verschiedenen Erscheinungs-
formen des Caboclos aufgezählt. An dieser Lied-
stelle führen inkorporierte Caboclos meist Jagd-,
Bogenschuss- und Ochsentreibszenen theatral auf,
indem sie das charakteristische Geschehen auf ei-
nige typische Bewegungen reduziert wiedergeben.
Die Bewegungen des Lassowerfens werden von
Caboclos auch zur Heilung oder zur Induktion der
Trance bei anderen Medien eingesetzt. Sind diese
mit dem Lasso “eingefangen”, so verkörpern sie
nun selbst einen Caboclo.
Aufführungen dieser Art vermitteln den Ein-
druck, dass es genau die besungene Welt ist, in
der die Caboclo-Geister der Vorstellung zufolge als
reale Personen gelebt haben und die sie nun bei
jeder Verkörperung durch Handlungen und Worte
wieder neu erschaffen und zum Kontext und Fun-
dus ihrer Heilung und Segnung werden lassen.
Lieder für Alte Schwarze
(6) Feitigo, mandinga, quebranto,
só ele sabe rezar.
3 Die Beliebtheit und positiven Konnotationen des Wortes ju-
rema hat sich ein brasilianischer Gemüsekonservenfabrikant
zunutze gemacht und seine Marke nach ihr benannt.
Anthropos 101.2006
Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze, wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...
535
Sua benguela e seu cachimbo
Servern para trabalhar
Pai Cipriano das almas
e um velho mandingueiro.
Quando chega na Umbanda
encruza todo o terreiro.
Eie e velho rezador,
com seu patuä de valia,
por Deus e Nossa Senhora,
nos tira da agonia.
Fetisch, Amulett, Zerbrechen,
nur er weiß zu beten.
Sein Stock und seine Pfeife
dienen der Arbeit.
Vater Zyprianus der Seelen
ist ein alter [erfahrener] Zauberer.
Wenn er in die Umbanda kommt,
durchkreuzt er das ganze Terreiro.
Er ist ein alter [erfahrener] Beter,
mit seinem mächtigen Amulett,
damit Gott und Unsere Liebe Frau
uns von der Agonie befreien.
(7) Quando as almas choram,
nos pes do Cruzeiro,
Pai Fulgencio de Luanda
se lembra do cativeiro.
Pom velhinho foi escravo,
so trabalhava para o senhor.
Hoje em dia nos terreiros,
alivia a nossa dor
Wenn die Seelen weinen,
am Fuß des Kreuzes,
Vater Fulgentius aus Luanda
erinnert sich an die Knechtschaft.
Her gute Alte war Sklave,
er arbeitete nur für seinen Herrn.
Heutzutage in den Terreiros
lindert er unseren Schmerz.
In den Liedern für die “Alten Schwarzen” wird
eine andere, ruhigere und zum Teil schmerzvol-
lere Atmosphäre vermittelt. Lied (6) beginnt mit
einigen Motiven, die Schwarzen, Afrikanern, man-
dingueiros (Hexern) zugesprochen werden: die Be-
herrschung von Fetischen und Amuletten (die auf
Hrasilianisch mandingas genannt werden, was auf
das Ethnonym mandingka zurückgeht). Das Wort
Quebranto ist mehrdeutig: es kann sich auf die Fä-
higkeit des Alten Schwarzen beziehen, die Zau-
ber anderer zu brechen; gleichzeitig bezeichnet es
aber auch seine eigene Gebrechlichkeit und Gebro-
chenheit. Nur der Alte Schwarze weiß (aufgrund
seines afrikanischen Wissens), mit seinen macht-
v°llen Amuletten zu beten, das heißt, sie zu mani-
pulieren. Wichtigste Erkennungsmerkmale des Al-
ten Schwarzen sind Stock und Pfeife, die das hohe
Vnth
Alter des Geistes betonen. Sie dienen aber nicht nur
dazu, ihn zu erkennen, sondern er verwendet sie als
die ihm bekannten und zugehörigen Gegenstände
(und Kulturmerkmale) auch zum “Arbeiten”, das
heißt, zum Heilen und Segnen.
Die Alten Schwarzen werden auch als die “See-
len” bezeichnet. Im Brasilianischen evoziert das
Wort alma (Seele) “Großzügigkeit” und “ein Herz
haben”, und auch das Motiv der “guten Seele”
existiert (Ferreira Buarque de Holanda 1986: 88).
Wenn, so erzählt uns das Lied, sich einer dieser
erfahrenen Zauberer und Beter in einem Kulthaus
verkörpert, so zieht er mit seinen ersten Schritten
zuerst ein imaginäres Kreuz durch das Haus, das
Symbol des Christentums (und des Leidens Jesu).
Er gibt ihm damit durch Referenz auf die mäch-
tige Institution der katholischen Kirche eine hö-
here Weihe, gleichzeitig ist das Kreuz aber auch
sein eigenes Symbol (und das seines Leidens); es
kommt in den meisten pontos riscados der Alten
Schwarzen vor. Das Beten des Alten Schwarzen
stellt Kontakt her zu Gott und der Jungfrau Ma-
ria und hilft den Gläubigen, Trost und Hoffnung
zu verspüren. In Lied (7) wird die Vergangenheit
des Alten Schwarzen als Sklave aufgegriffen: Va-
ter Fulgentius aus Luanda erinnert sich an seine
eigene Knechtschaft und sein eigenes Leid, wenn
er am Fuße des christlichen Kreuzes weint. Die
letzten beiden Zeilen bringen eine Wendung: Der
Alte Schwarze hat trotz (oder gerade wegen) seines
eigenen Leides die Kraft, den Schmerz der in den
Kultstätten Trost- und Heilung suchenden Besucher
zu lindern.
Lieder für Criangas
(8) Eu pedi a Oxalä
pra mandar as criancinhas,
pra vir na banda,
brincar e trabalhar.
Tem cocada,
tem guaranä.
O criangas
venham me ajudar.
Ich bat Oxalä,
die Kinderlein zu schicken,
zu uns in den Terreiro zu kommen,
zum Spiel und zur Arbeit.
Es gibt Kokoskuchen,
es gibt Limonade.
Oh Kinder,
kommt und helft mir.
(9) Papai me mande um baläo,
com todas as criangas que tem lä no ceu,
iropos 101.2006
536
Christian Meyer
tem doce papai, tem doce mamäe,
tem doce, lä no jardim.
Papa, schicken Sie mir einen Ballon,
mit all den Kindern, die es dort im Himmel gibt,
es gibt Süßigkeiten, Papa, es gibt Süßigkeiten, Mama,
es gibt Süßigkeiten dort im Garten.
Oxalä, der mit Jesus synkretisierte Gott der Schöp-
fung, wird als reinster und höchster Gott, meist
als Anführer der Phalanx der Crian^as (Kindergeis-
ter) angesehen. Das Diminutiv criancinhas (Kin-
derchen) im Lied verstärkt das Bild der Unschuld
und Reinheit der Kindergeister. Ihr Spielen wäh-
rend der Verkörperung in den Terreiros wird be-
reits als Segnung empfunden. Das Spiel wird als
ihre Weise zu arbeiten, eine kindliche, spielerische
und mühelose Art der Arbeit, angesehen. Als Spiel
vermittelt die Arbeit auf diese Weise auch Freude
und Heiterkeit, die Befreiung von Angst und eine
Leichtigkeit, welche die Mühen und die Arbeit der
Sänger und Zuhörer des Liedes vergessen macht.
Wichtigste Attribute der Criangas sind Spielsachen
sowie Kuchen und Limonade. Sie können für die
Süße des Lebens stehen, die auch mit der Kindheit
insgesamt verbunden wird. In (9) bilden sie das
Thema des Liedes. Das Lied zeigt die gängige Pra-
xis in Brasilien, dass Kinder im Allgemeinen die
Höflichkeitsform (Sie) gegenüber ihren Eltern ver-
wenden. Auch die affektiven familiären Beziehun-
gen von Kindern zu ihren Eltern (Papa, Mama) wer-
den thematisiert. Am Schluss dieses Liedes wird
der Aufenthaltsort der Cria^as auf Erden erwähnt:
Der Garten. Dort werden ihnen auch Opfergaben
dargebracht. Die Verbindung des Aufenthaltsortes
der Kindergeister zum “Kindergarten” (jardim. de
infäncia) ist unverkennbar.
Lieder für das Straßenvolk
(10) Tranca Ruas matou seu gato,
mas näo quis comer sozinho.
Chamou seus camaradas
e dividiu em pedaginhos.
Logo chegou Seu Lücifer
com a Pomba Giro que e Exü Mulher.
Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze,
aber wollte nicht alleine essen.
Er rief seine Kameraden
und teilte die Katze in Stückchen.
Da kam Herr Luzifer
mit der Pomba Gira, dem weiblichen Exü.
(11) Eie näo foi batizado,
näo buscou a salvagäo,
mas eie e quem vence demanda,
saravd Exü Pagäo.
Er war nicht getauft,
suchte nicht die Erlösung,
aber er ist’s, der böse Zauber besiegt,
sei gegrüßt, Exü Heide!
(12) A porta do Inferno estremeceu,
veio todo mundo para ver quem e,
ouviu-se gargalhada na encruza,
era Seu Caveira com a mulher de Lücifer.
Die Tür zur Hölle erbebte,
alle kamen, um zu sehen, wer es ist,
man hörte Gelächter an der Kreuzung,
es war Herr Totenkopf mit der Frau Luzifers.
(13) Exü da Meia-Noite,
Exü da madrugada,
salve o povo da quimbanda,
sem Exü näo sefaz nada.
Exü der Mitternacht,
Exü des Morgengrauens,
gegrüßt sei das Volk der Quimbanda,
ohne Exü geht gar nichts.
Das erste Lied vermittelt in humorvoller Weise die
Andersartigkeit und Unkonventionalität der Exüs:
Der Exü Tranca Ruas tötet seine eigene Katze (er
geht keine festen Bindungen ein und ist selbst bei
einer näheren Beziehung zu ihm noch unberechen-
bar) und isst sie (in Brasilien wird kein Katzen-
fleisch gegessen). Zum Essen ruft er seine Kame-
raden und teilt mit ihnen sein Mahl, was die So-
lidarität und Sozialität der Exüs untereinander be-
tont. Seine Gäste sind der Teufel (Luzifer) und der
weibliche Exü, Pomba Gira.
In Lied (11) wird betont, dass die Exüs nicht
christlich sind, aber gerade deswegen große magL
sehe Fähigkeiten besitzen. Lied (12) erwähnt die
Hölle als den Wohnort der Exüs (das “Volk der
Straße” wird in einem anderen Lied auch als “Volk
der Hölle” bezeichnet) und die Kreuzung als ihren
Aufenthaltsort im Diesseits. Dorthin begibt sich der
Exü im Lied unverzüglich, um sein Erkennungs-
merkmal, das Gelächter, hören zu lassen (eigentlich
“Lachsalven”, port. gargalhada). Der Herr der To-
ten (Seu Caveira) ist mit der Frau von Luzifer auf
die Erde gekommen. Man kann ahnen, dass er den
Teufel mit dessen Frau betrügt. Auch hier zeigen
sich die Exüs amoralisch.
In Lied (13) wird die Zeitordnung des Straßen-
volkes thematisiert: Die Exüs sind von Mitternacht
bis zum Morgengrauen aktiv, also genau dann,
wenn die Mehrzahl der städtischen Brasilianer und
Umbandisten schläft und außer Hauses Angst hat,
Anthropos 101.2006
Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze, wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...
537
weil sie dort Verbrecher und Prostituierte befürch-
tet, eben jenes “Volk der Straße”, das sich nach
Meinung der Umbandisten nach seinem Tod in
Exüs verwandelt. In der dritten Zeile wird das Stra-
ßenvolk auch als “Quimbanda-Volk”, das heißt, als
Volk der schwarzen Magie bezeichnet. Als die Do-
mäne der Exüs gilt die Magie, dies wird durch ih-
re Einordnung als Heiden unterstrichen. Der letz-
te Satz betont noch einmal die Wichtigkeit der
Exüs für das Umbanda-Ritual und das Leben der
Gläubigen. In der Liturgie des Rituals muss den
Exüs immer zu Anfang gehuldigt werden, da sie
ansonsten Unordnung stiften könnten. Für das Le-
ben der Gläubigen sind sie außerdem wichtig, da
sie in amourösen, administrativen und finanziellen
Angelegenheiten “Wege” zu “öffnen” und zu “ver-
sperren” vermögen (daher der Name Exü Straßen-
sperrer in Lied [10]). Dieser Ausdruck kann fast
als ein Euphemismus bezeichnet werden angesichts
der Aufgaben, die den Gläubigen seitens der Exüs
gestellt werden.4
Die unverblümte Andersartigkeit der Exüs in
den Liedern erweckt bei den Anwesenden oft Hei-
terkeit, auf ihren Festen wird immer viel gelacht.
Dennoch ist dem Volk der Straße nicht zu trauen:
Der Besucher weiß nie, ob die Exüs, während er mit
ihnen lacht, nicht vielleicht über ihn lachen, da sie
sich bereits eine neue Schandtat zu seinem Schaden
ausgedacht haben.
Lieder für Orixäs
Lür jeden der Orixäs gibt es unzählige Lieder. Ich
Blochte eines der Lieder, das dem Kriegs- und Ei-
sengott Ogum gewidmet ist, exemplarisch analysie-
ren (zur Bedeutung Ogums in Afrika und im weite-
ren Afro-Amerika s. Barnes 1989).
D4) Ogum quando vem lä de Amanda,
trciZ uma espada
e uma langa na mäo.
Ogum e um cavaleiro,
Venceu a guerra
e uiatou o dragäo.
LL e Säo Jorge Guerreiw,
Ouerreiro na Humaitä.
terreiro de Umbanda
Ve>n seus filhos, saravä, Ogum ie.
Wenn Ogum von dort aus Amanda kommt,
trägt er ein Schwert
4 So befahl eine Pomba Gira in einem berichteten Falle einem
Besucher einer Kultstätte in Rio de Janeiro, den Ehemann
einer Umbandistin zu ermorden (vgl. Contins e Goldman
1984).
^nthr
und eine Lanze in der Hand.
Ogum ist ein Ritter,
er gewann den Krieg
und tötete den Drachen.
Er ist der Heilige Georg, der Krieger,
Krieger in Humaitä.
In das Terreiro der Umbanda
kommen seine Kinder. Sei gegrüßt, Ogum iê!
Zu Anfang des Liedes werden alle wichtigen At-
tribute der plastischen Darstellungen des Heiligen
Georgs aufgezählt und seinem Yoruba-(Umbanda-)
Pendant Ogum, der dem himmlischen Amanda ent-
stammt, zugesprochen: Seine Waffen (ein Schwert,
eine Lanze) und sein Pferd (Ogum bzw. der Heili-
ge Georg ist ein Ritter). Der Rest des Liedes be-
zieht sich vor allem auf Legenden des Heiligen
Georg. Georg von Kappadokien kämpfte als römi-
scher Legionär “an vielen Enden des Imperiums”
(Gorys 1997: 113), wurde dann als Christ verfolgt
und ermordet. Nach mehreren Auferstehungen tö-
tete er einen Drachen in Libyen. Sein Leben war be-
stimmt von Krieg und Kampf; aus diesem Grund ist
die Synkretisierung mit Ogum auch sehr passend.
In Humaitä, der im Lied erwähnten Kampfstätte
Ogums, fand im Juli 1868 eine für die Brasilianer
erfolgreiche Schlacht im Rahmen des Krieges mit
Paraguay (1865-70) statt, in der zweifellos vie-
le kampfesmutige Heldentaten von wissentlichen
und unwissentlichen Ogum-Geweihten stattfanden
(siehe zum Krieg der Tripelallianz [Brasilien, Uru-
guay und Argentinien! gegen Paraguay Magalhäes
1978). Hier zeigt sich, wie auch allgemein bekann-
te, die brasilianische Geschichte und Identität prä-
gende deiktische Bezüge kreativ in die “mystische
Geographie” der Umbanda eingeordnet werden.
Die meisten Lieder der Orixäs handeln von den
Naturkräften, denen sie zugeordnet werden (Ye-
manjä dem Meer, Xangö dem Donner und Stein-
bruch usw.), andere betreffen die Legenden der
Heiligen, mit denen sie assoziiert werden (Yeman-
jä, die als Maria um Jesus weint etc.). Im Gegen-
satz zum Candomblé werden in Umbanda-Liedem
kaum afrikanische Sprachen verwandt und selten
Yoruba-Legenden der Orixäs erzählt.
Die Lieder und ihre Bilder
Die Lieder, die hier untersucht wurden, stellen nur
eine kleine Auswahl an Geistwesen und an Lied-
genres aus einem großen Spektrum beider Katego-
rien vor. Dennoch wird bereits hier deutlich, dass
sie, neben den eingangs erwähnten Zwecken, der
Erzeugung von Bildern dienen, welche die Lebens-
■opos 101.2006
538
Christian Meyer
weit der einzelnen Geister darstellen. Lieder für
Caboclos sprechen von der Natur, dem unberührten
Wald, von der Schnelligkeit und Treffsicherheit der
Pfeile und dem Leuchten der Sterne. Die Texte der
Alten Schwarzen erzählen vom Leid zur Zeit der
Sklaverei und den besonderen magischen Fähig-
keiten dieser Geister. Die Gesänge für die Kinder
wiederum zeigen deren Vorlieben für Süßes und
Spielsachen und ihr unschuldiges Spielen, das seg-
nend auf die Anwesenden wirkt. Die Liedtexte für
die Exus demonstrieren deren “Teuflischkeit” und
Unberechenbarkeit und führen die moralische In-
version dieser Geister vor Augen. Lieder für Orixas
beziehen sich oft auf die Lebensgeschichten der mit
ihnen assoziierten Heiligen oder auf Aspekte der
aus dem Candomblé bekannten Mythen.
Da es wenig empirisches Wissen der Besucher
eines Terreiros über das “Leben” der Geistwesen
geben kann, wird in der Umbanda dieses Kon-
textwissen zum großen Teil durch die im Ver-
lauf des Rituals gesungenen Lieder transportiert.
Denn mit der Vielzahl der Lieder während eines
Umbanda-Rituales wird eine große Vielzahl von
Bildern zu den einzelnen Geistwesen evoziert. Ty-
ler (1978: 88-97) hat solche Bilder “mental im-
ages” genannt. Neben visuellen zählt er dazu auch
auditive und kinästhetische Bilder. Der Begriff
“Bild” soll somit nicht die visuelle Wahrnehmung
des Menschen überbetonen. Tyler (1978: 89) meint
damit vielmehr alles, was dem Menschen mehr
oder weniger unorganisiert “durch den Kopf geht”:
Whether thinking, dreaming, or hallucinating, our heads
are frequently full of sights, sounds, and sensations, of
flashes, buzzes, and twitches. We seem to hear our own
voices, the voices of others, snatches of songs, disem-
bodied verses; we see forms, faces, and figures, and re-
member the smell of roast beef, the buttery smoothness
of waxed leather desk tops, and how it feels to ride a
bicycle or to lick a frosty pump handle. We can close our
eyes and still see things on the backs of our eyelids for a
brief moment if we have fixed our gaze on them before.
Sometimes we can even envision in minute detail some
long forgotten person or scene.
Es sind Bilder, die sich überschneiden, die durch-
einanderwirbeln, manchmal fragmentarisch blei-
ben und ihrerseits wiederum ständig andere Bilder
erwecken und Assoziationsketten in Gang bringen
(vgl. zu dieser “Turbulence of Images” Strecker
1997). Tyler (1978; 91) teilt die “mental images”
nach ihrer Abbildungsqualität in “iconic”, “index-
ical” und “symbolic images” ein. Ikonische Bilder
sind die eidetischen Bilder, die beim Schließen der
Augenlider noch kurz aufblitzen, der Nachhall von
Rhythmen und Klängen, das Nacherleben von Be-
wegungsabläufen. Die meisten alltäglichen Bilder
aber, so Tyler (1978: 92), sind symbolischer Natur,
das heißt, sie wurden schon verarbeitet und mit Be-
deutung besetzt.
Symbolische Bilder ziehen eine klare Trennung
von Subjekt und Objekt sowie von Signifikant
und Signifikat (Tyler 1978; 96 f.), während ikoni-
sche Bilder dies nicht tun und die Identität von
Subjekt und Umwelt kreieren. Symbolische Bil-
der können dabei fragmentarisch bleiben: ein Teil
(des Bildes, der Handlung) steht für das Ganze
(das Bild, den komplexen Handlungsablauf). Beim
Singen der Lieder gehen ikonische Bilder (Be-
wegungen, Trommelschläge und Melodien) mit
symbolischen Bildern (erzählten Mythen als In-
halt der Lieder) einher. Die Lieder besitzen dem-
nach sowohl emotive, leidenschaftserregende (iko-
nische Bilder schaffen Nähe und Partizipation) als
auch kognitive, belehrende Funktionen (symboli-
sche Bilder erzeugen Distanz und Reflexion). Die
symbolischen Bilder der Anwesenden sind an per-
sönliche Erfahrungen geknüpft, die im Umbanda-
Ritual angesprochen werden.
Für jede Geistwesenkategorie wird durch die
Liedtexte eine Bilderwelt entworfen, die immer
wieder besungen und so bei den Anwesenden
präsent gehalten wird. Wendl (1990: 140-164)
bezeichnet diese durch Erzählungen, Lieder und
Darstellungen erzeugten Vorstellungen von den
Geistern des Mami-Wata-Kultes der Mina und Ewe
Togos als deren “Referenzkultur”:
Jeder Geist hat ein eigenes unverwechselbares Eigen-
schaftsprofil. Als handelndes Subjekt ist jeder Geist zu-
dem Träger einer Kultur, auf die sich die Priester in ihren
Ritualen beziehen. Diese Kulturen der Geister möchte
ich als “Referenzkulturen” bezeichnen. Sie korrespon-
dieren mit den verschiedenen Bereichen der Außenwelt,
denen die Geister entstammen, die sie versinnbildlichen
und für die sie zuständig sind. Alle rituellen Handlun-
gen, Gebete, Opfergaben, Tänze, aber auch Artefakte wie
Altäre, Heiligtümer und Trachten sind auf diese Refe-
renzkulturen hin abgestimmt und machen sie gleichzeitig
transparent (Wendl 1990: 140f.).
Dies trifft auch auf die Umbanda und ihre Geister
zu. Dabei herrscht, so auch Wendl (1990: 312), das
tropisch-kognitive Prinzip der Synekdoche: Teile
stehen für das Ganze. Einzelne Attribute und Ar-
tefakte (wie in der Umbanda der Stock des Alten
Schwarzen) stehen für umfassende Gewohnheiten,
Handlungen oder Ideologien (die Knechtschaft»
Gebücktheit und das Alter der Alten Schwarzen).
Wenn nun ein Medium, das einen Caboclo ver-
körpert, “ich” sagt, so muss der Adressat erstens
wissen, dass das Medium in dem Moment einen
Anthropos 101.2006
Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze, wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...
539
Caboclo verkörpert und mit dem geäußerten “ich”
die Person des Caboclos als sprechendes Subjekt
auftritt. Zweitens muss er sein Kontextwissen akti-
vieren, das Auskunft über Herkunft, Charakterei-
genschaften und Anliegen dieses als Subjekt er-
fahrenen Agens geben kann. Ein von einem Ca-
boclo geäußertes “Bei mir zu Hause ist es folgen-
dermaßen ...” verweist zum Beispiel auf das in
den Liedern erwähnte himmlische Juremä, das all-
gemein als Vorbild für das Leben der Gläubigen
gilt. Alles, was das Geistwesen im Verlauf seiner
Verkörperung äußert, wird von den Zuhörern an-
hand ihres Kontextwissens verstanden, und nur auf
diese Weise erhalten Symbole wie abgeschossene
Pfeile, brennende Kerzen oder Zigarrenrauch und
die Reden der Geister ihre Kraft. Eine Segnung
oder eine Divination durch einen Alten Schwarzen-
Geist wäre ohne all das Wissen über seine Vor-
geschichte (sein Leid in der Knechtschaft), seine
Macht (sein Wissen über magische Techniken) und
seine Autorität als Geist aus dem Jenseits nicht
wirksam.
Wie sich herausgestellt hat, dienen die Lieder
in der Umbanda neben anderem zur Evokation von
Bildern und so zur Identifikation der Besucher mit
der Kosmologie des Terreiros sowie zur deiktischen
Orientierung der Anwesenden. Ein Wissen über
den Kontext (die “Kultur”) der Geister ist die un-
abdingbare Voraussetzung für das Verständnis von
Symbolisierungen und für den Vollzug von ma-
gischen Akten. Die Lieder dienen zur Bereitstel-
lung und Aktualisierung von Kontextwissen über
die Geistwesen und zur Konstruktion ihrer Refe-
renzkultur. Nur mit Hilfe der Lieder können die
Anwesenden das konkrete Auftreten und Sprechen
der Geister, insbesondere deren deiktische und re-
ferentielle Bezüge überhaupt verstehen.
Das spezifische “Phantasma” der Umbanda be-
zieht sich auf die Charaktere der Geistwesen und
stellt ihre Lebenswelten im Jenseits dar. Dass ihm
eine derart große Aufmerksamkeit zuteil wird,
Zeigt, dass dem Geistwesensystem und dem Jen-
seits eine zentrale Bedeutung in der Doktrin der
Ümbanda zukommt. Das Phantasma wird über das
gemeinsame Singen der Lieder hervorgerufen, und
die Geistwesen können sich an ihm während ih-
rer Verkörperung deiktisch und referentiell (durch
Handlungen, Kommentare etc.) orientieren. Durch
diese Praxis und durch den Gesamtzusammenhang
des Rituals wird das Phantasma realitätsnah erfahr-
bar gemacht. Sitta (1991: 15) spricht daher auch
v°n der Nähe der Deixis am Phantasma zur rhe-
torischen Strategie der Evidentia. Evidentia ist ei-
ne persuasive Strategie, abwesende oder gar fikti-
ve Dinge auf eine Weise zu präsentieren, dass sie
Allthropos 101.2006
leibhaftig vor dem (inneren) Auge der Hörer er-
scheinen und so Teil ihrer sozialen Realität wer-
den. Insbesondere mit dem zweiten Hauptfall der
Deixis am Phantasma, wenn der Sprecher die ima-
ginäre Personen-Origo verwendet, die in der Um-
banda die wichtigste ist (wenn der Sprecher “ich”
sagt und damit den Geist meint, der Hörer aber das
Medium als sprechendes Individuum sieht), zieht
der Sprecher den Hörer in seine referentiellen Be-
züge, in seine Welt hinein. Die Deixis am Phan-
tasma gehört also an ganz prominenter Stelle zu
den “Beeindruckungsmitteln” (Figge 1973: 182—
200) der Umbanda, durch die eine überzeugende
Performanz der Geistverkörperung erzeugt wird.
Aus pragmatischer Perspektive kann darüber hin-
aus die deiktische Verfremdung als “exploitation
of the hearer” (Grice 1975, Strecker 1988) ge-
deutet werden, mit der die Verkörperungsdoktrin
der Umbanda als wahr und real präsentiert wird.
Durch die durchgängige deiktische Orientierung
des Sprechers an der Origo des Geistwesens zwingt
er die Hörer dazu, die kognitive Leistung der Ver-
setzung zu vollziehen. Der Geist übernimmt keiner-
lei Übersetzungsarbeit, sondern verlangt dies von
den Hörern. Mit anderen Worten: er zwingt sie zur
(in diesem Fall emotiven und kognitiven) Partizi-
pation. Diese kooperative Grundstimmung zieht,
wie Kertzer (1988: 97-101) demonstriert hat, eine
“kollaborative Erwartungshaltung” nach sich und
kann dazu führen, dass der Adressat sich quasi
selbst von der Wahrheit des im Ritual Dargestell-
ten überzeugt. Durch die selbst vorgenommen ko-
gnitiven Leistungen bewirkt er bei sich selbst eine
kognitive Assonanz und infolgedessen eine Bin-
dung zum Ritual und dessen Inhalten. Das Ritual
kreiert auf diese Weise einen psycho-emotionalen
Zustand in den Teilnehmern, der seine Botschaft
unanfechtbar macht (Kertzer 1988: 14). Der Glau-
be der Umbanda-Anhänger wird somit auch durch
die Verwendung der Deixis am Phantasma repro-
duziert.
Zitierte Literatur
Barnes, Sandra T. (ed.)
1989 Africa’s Ogun. Old World and New. Bloomington: Indi-
ana University Press.
Bauman, Richard
1983 Let Your Words Be Few. Symbolism of Speaking and Si-
lence among Seventeenth-Century Quakers. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Brazeal, Brian
2003 The Music of the Bahian Caboclos. Anthropological
Quarterly 76: 639-669.
540
Christian Meyer
Brugmann, Karl
1904 Die Demonstrativpronomina der indogermanischen
Sprachen. Eine bedeutungsgeschichtliche Untersu-
chung. Leipzig: Teubner.
Bühler, Karl
1965 Sprachtheorie. Stuttgart: Gustav Fischer Verlag. [2.
Aufl., Orig. 1934]
Cacciatore, Olga Gudolle
1977 Dicionärio de cultos afro-brasileiros. Rio de Janeiro:
Forense-Universitäria.
Contins, Märcia, e Marcio Goldman
1984 “O caso da Pomba-Gira”. Religiäo e violencia. Uma
anälise do jogo discursivo entre Umbanda e sociedade.
Religiäo e Sociedade 11/1: 103-132.
Ferreira Buarque de Holanda, Aurelio
1986 Novo dicionärio Aurelio da lingua portuguesa. Rio de
Janeiro: Nova Fronteira. [2. Aufl.]
Ferretti, Mundicarmo
1994a Cantiga de caboclo em terreiro de mina. In: M. Ferretti,
Terra de caboclo; pp. 63-78. Säo Luis: SECMA.
1994b Doutrina de caboclo - Anälise de discurso. In: M. Fer-
retti, Terra de caboclo; pp. 79-98. Säo Luis: SECMA.
Figge, Horst H.
1973 Geisterkult, Besessenheit und Magie in der Umbanda-
Religion Brasiliens. Freiburg; Karl Alber.
Fox, James J.
1988 Introduction. In: J. J. Fox (ed.), To Speak in Pairs. Essays
on the Ritual Languages of Eastem Indonesia; pp. 1 -28.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Gabriel, Chester E.
1985 Comunicagöes dos espiritos. Umbanda, cultos regionais
em Manaus e a dinämica do transe mediünico. Säo
Paulo: Loyola.
Goodman, Felicitas D.
1994 Die andere Wirklichkeit. Über das Religiöse in den Kul-
turen der Welt. München: Trickster.
Gorys, Erhard
1997 Lexikon der Heiligen. München: dtv.
Grice, Paul
1975 Logic and Conversation. In; P. Cole and J. L. Mor-
gan (ed.), Syntax and Semantics. Vol. 3: Speech Acts;
pp. 41 -58. New York: Académie Press.
Henry, Edward
1988 Chant in the Names of God. San Diego: San Diego State
University Press.
Irvine, Judith T.
1982 The Creation of Identity in Spirit Mediumship and Pos-
session. In; D. Parkin (ed.), Semantic Anthropology;
pp. 241 -260. London: Academic Press. (A. S. A. Mono-
graph, 22)
Kertzer, David
1988 Ritual, Politics, and Power. New Haven: Yale University
Press.
Lapassade, Georges
1990 La Transe. Paris: PUF. (Que sais-je? 2508)
Levinson, Stephen
1994 Pragmatik. Tübingen: Niemeyer. [2. Aufl.]
Lopes, Nei
1997 Dicionärio banto do Brasil. Repertörio etimolögico de
vocäbulos brasileiros originärios dos centro, sul, leste e
sudoeste africanos. Rio de Janeiro: Prefeitura da Cidade
do Rio de Janeiro.
Magalhäes, Joäo Batista
1978 Osörio - Sintese do seu perfil histörico. Rio de Janeiro:
Biblioteca do Exército.
Megenney, William W.
1989 Sudanic/Bantu/Portuguese Syncretism in Selected
Chants from Brazilian Umbanda and Candomblé. An-
thropos 84: 363-383.
Mota, Roberto
1976 Jurema. Recife: Fundaçào Joaquim Nabuco. (Folclore,
22)
Rouget, Gilbert
1985 Music and Trance. A Theory of the Relations be-
tween Music and Possession. Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press. [Franz. Orig. 1980]
Sitta, Georg
1991 Deixis am Phantasma. Versuch einer Neubestimmung.
Bochum: Brockmeyer. (Bochumer Beiträge zur Semio-
tik, 31)
Strecker, Ivo
1988 The Social Practice of Symbolization. An Anthropologi-
cal Analysis. London: Athlone Press. (London School of
Economics; Monographs on Social Anthropology, 60)
1997 The Turbulence of Images. Visual Anthropology 9: 207-
227.
Tyler, Stephen A.
1978 The Said and the Unsaid. Mind, Meaning, and Culture.
New York; Academic Press.
Wendl, Tobias
1990 Mami Wata oder ein Kult zwischen den Kulturen. Müns-
ter: Lit. (Kulturanthropologische Studien, 19)
3000 Pontos
1974 3000 pontos riscados e cantados na Umbanda e Candom-
blé. Rio de Janeiro: Eco.
Anthropos 101.2006
Anthropos
101.2006: 541-558
“Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ... ”
Le bricolage religieux chez les Ashéninka de l’Ucayali
Marc Lenaerts
Abstract. - Religious syncretism in Amazonian cultures rais-
es special problems. The analysis leads to distinct social and
cultural fields, with dubious interconnections and boundaries.
But Lévi-Strauss’s notion of “bricolage” could be an efficient
tool, if used without biased reluctance about history and social
change. In the case of Ashéninka people, what appears then is a
dual process. Long- and short-term syncretic changes are deeply
Working on the successive discrepancies of divine figures, divine
roles, and shamanism, while the ontological background, which
is quite inconsistent with ours, remains impressively steady.
[Amazonia, Ashéninka, religious syncretism, animism, perspec-
tivism, shamanism]
Marc Lenaerts, Ph. D. en anthropologie (2002), professeur à
l’Ecole Supérieure des Arts (Bruxelles), collaborateur scienti-
fique de l’Université Libre de Bruxelles (Centre d’anthropolo-
gie), membre associé de l’Equipe de Recherche en Ethnologie
Amérindienne, CNRS-Villejuif (EREA). - Il a publié : “Anthro-
pologie des Indiens Ashéninka d’Amazonie. Nos sœurs Manioc
et l’étranger Jaguar” (Paris 2004) ; “Idées à bouturer. Ethnoéco-
logie amazonienne” (avec P. Erikson) (Nanterre 2002).
Cet article trouve sa source dans une réflexion sur
}es travaux d’André Mary au sujet des syncrétismes
en train de se faire”, et de la brillante confron-
tation qu’il fait à ce propos entre les catégories
°Pératoires proposées par Roger Bastide et la no-
tion lévi-straussienne de “bricolage” (Mary 2000).
kes cas auxquels se réfère André Mary sont sur-
tout africains ou afro-brésiliens, et il y montre fort
bien comment les “pré-contraintes” symboliques
flni continuent à adhérer aux matériaux d’origine
disparate sont source de tensions et de contradic-
hons, et par là de dynamisme. Mais que se passe-t-il
lorsque le champ du religieux ne s’organise pas
autour de centres de gravité bien définis, comme
les prophètes africains ou les terreiros brésiliens,
mais présente au contraire des facettes multiples,
aux articulations souvent problématiques, comme
c’est fréquent en Amazonie indigène ?
Les questions posées à ce propos sont au départ
assez simples : les principes du bricolage, si brico-
lage il y a, sont-ils alors les mêmes ? et sont-ils ho-
mogènes dans les divers domaines qu’à un titre ou
à un autre, il nous faut bien considérer comme rele-
vant du religieux? L’examen du cas de figure des
Ashéninka plaide pour des réponses assez nuan-
cées.
Les Ashéninka de l’Ucayali et du Gran Pajonal
Pour mieux situer le cadre et les enjeux, je com-
mencerai par quelques précisions sur les rela-
tions interethniques, passées et présentes, que les
Ashéninka ont établies avec leurs voisins, et sur
quelques-unes de leurs caractéristiques propres.
D’un point de vue géographique aussi bien
que démographique, les Ashâninka et Ashéninka
constituent le noyau central de la famille ethnolin-
guistique des Arawaks sub-andins. Leur territoire
traditionnel est concentré dans la “Selva Central”
péruvienne, sur le piémont oriental des Andes, avec
quelques extensions au-delà de la frontière bré-
silienne. A l’échelle amazonienne, il s’agit d’un
groupe fort homogène et surtout fort nombreux :
542
Marc Lenaerts
Légende :
Groupe Pano:
Shipibo-Conibo
HP Amahuaca
Yaminahua et apparentés:
1 Yawanawa
# Yaminahua-Chitonahua
3 Yora
sans contact (Chitonahua)
Kaxinawa
Groupe Takana:
Ese’eja
Groupe Arawak :
ensemble « Campa » :
1 Ashéninka de l’Ucayali
2 Ashéninka du Gran Pajonal
3 Ashéninka Pichis, Apurucayali
4 Ashaninka
M Matsiguenga
N Nomatsiguenga
Y Yanesha-Amuesha
===== Yine-Piro / Manchineri
..?•• sans contact (Mashco-Piro ?)
'HHHi» Kulina
*= Harakmbët
Carte : Le groupement ethno-lin-
guistique de la région. Sources :
Chirif & Mora, AIDESEP, Centro
Bori, ILV-SIL (Pérou), CEDI, Go-
verno do Estado do Acre (Brésil),
et observations personnelles.
ils étaient déjà 51,052 selon le recensement officiel
de 1993, un chiffre qui est à coup sûr très largement
dépassé aujourd’hui.
Les divers sous-groupes de cet ensemble ne
se distinguent que par quelques variations dialec-
tales et culturelles d’ordre mineur. Mes réflexions
concerneront plus directement deux d’entre eux :
à l’est, les Ashéninka du Gran Pajonal (3,823 en
1993, selon la même source), et sur l’extrême
frange nord-est, ceux “de l’Ucayali” (2,793 en 1993
au Pérou, et 7 à 800 au Brésil).1 L’Ucayali et la
1 Le choix de l’ethnonyme pose ainsi quelques menus pro-
blèmes pratiques. J’ai travaillé pour ma part avec des Ashé-
frontière brésilienne sont des territoires d’occupa-
tion sans doute assez récente, de l’ordre de 100 à
150 ans : la pression des colons sur les régions occi-
dentales pousse l’ensemble des Asháninka à un lent
mouvement vers les basses terres, moins peuplées
et plus giboyeuses. Quant au Gran Pajonal, c’est
ninka (sous-groupes orientaux), mais lorsqu’il s’agit du
terme générique, on a l’habitude de parler des Asháninka
(du nom des sous-groupes occidentaux, beaucoup plus nom-
breux). Je dirai donc Asháninka pour tout ce qui me semble
généralisable à l’ensemble du groupe, et réserverai le terme
Ashéninka à ce qui concerne plus exclusivement mes don-
nées de terrain. Que l’on veuille bien me pardonner ces
distinctions un peu byzantines : mes informateurs, eux, en
seraient extrêmement satisfaits.
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
une enclave au relief assez accidenté, pauvre en
poisson et en gibier, mais qui sert depuis des siècles
de zone refuge (voir carte).
Les Ashâninka sont donc aujourd’hui en train de
reculer devant les colons, mais il n’en a pas toujours
été ainsi. En fait, leurs relations avec le monde an-
din et ses structures étatiques relèvent d’une his-
toire fort ancienne, bien antérieure à la conquête
espagnole et aux entreprises missionnaires : les
échanges commerciaux et culturels remontent sans
doute à la culture Huari, qui a connu son apogée
entre le VIIe et le IXe siècles après J. C.
En tout cas, des contacts soutenus sont claire-
ment attestés entre eux et l’empire inca, qui s’est
lancé à plusieurs reprises, et sans le moindre suc-
cès, à la conquête de leur territoire. Mais comme le
souligne avec beaucoup d’insistance F.-M. Renard-
Casevitz (1993; étal. 1986), on aurait grand tort
de réduire ces contacts à leur seul versant guer-
rier : en dépit de leur opposition ferme et très ef-
ficace à toute tentative de pénétration armée, les
“Anti”, comme on les appelait alors, maintenaient
durant les intervalles de paix un réseau complexe
d’échanges, de visites et de commerce, qui les pla-
çait en position d’intermédiaires entre l’empire in-
caïque et certains de leurs voisins Pano.
C’est exactement sur le même modèle que se
sont établies ensuite les relations avec les conqué-
rants espagnols. Les expéditions militaires étaient
décimées puis anéanties dès qu’elles tentaient de
pénétrer en forêt, tandis qu’avec les missionnaires
alternaient les périodes d’échanges commerciaux
et même technologiques (au XVIIe siècle, les mis-
sions jésuitiques n’ont pu s’installer temporaire-
ment en territoire yanesha et ashâninka qu’à la
condition de construire des forges et d’enseigner
l’art de la fonderie, qui s’est perpétué plus d’un
siècle après leur fuite), et les périodes de rébel-
lion armée, suscitées par les exigences des mis-
sionnaires et par les épidémies que déclenchait leur
Présence.
La plus spectaculaire de ces révoltes est celle
fie Juan Santos Atahualpa, qui aboutit à fermer
la “Selva Central” à toute pénétration coloniale
fiurant un siècle entier, de 1742 à 1847. Juan Santos
Atahualpa était en fait un métis originaire de la
Cordillère, qui avait sans doute reçu un début de
formation de séminariste et se prétendait héritier de
1 Inca. Il n’a jamais vraiment réussi à obtenir un
aPPui suffisant de la part des indiens andins. Mais
les “Campa” (Ashâninka, Yanesha, Matsiguenga et
l^ornatsiguenga) lui font confiance et se soulèvent,
bientôt rejoints par leurs voisins Piro, Conibo et
Shipibo, dans une confédération interethnique de
fait, fort exceptionnelle à l’époque.
Anthropos 101.2006
543
Juan Santos Atahualpa se proclamait “fils de Pâ-
wa”, un héros civilisateur/dieu soleil dont il sera
abondamment question plus loin, et c’est à ce titre
qu’il prétendait restaurer l’ordre ancien. L’épisode
se trouve ainsi à l’origine de ce qu’on a appelé
une “tradition messianique” ou “millénariste” ca-
ractéristique des Ashâninka, et plus largement des
Arawak subandins.
Des faits récurrents poussent effectivement à
une telle interprétation. Le personnage de Juan San-
tos (qui se faisait aussi appeler “Jesús Sacramen-
tado”) réapparaît encore aujourd’hui sous le nom
mythique de Sacaramentaro chez les Ashéninka
du Pichis et du Perené, et sous celui de Yompor
Santo chez les Yanesha, Arawaks eux aussi, qui jus-
qu’à la fin du XIXe siècle lui rendaient également
un culte sur sa tombe supposée de Metraro (San-
tos Granero 1991 : 80s. ; 1992 : 256 ; Rojas Zolezzi
1994:59). Plus proche de nous, en 1965, c’est à
nouveau en les reconnaissant explicitement comme
des “fils de Pâwa” que certaines communautés dé-
cident d’aider les guérilleros du MIR (Movimiento
de la Izquierda Revolucionaria, d’inspiration cas-
triste), en les nourrissant, en les guidant dans la
forêt, et même en combattant à l’occasion à leurs
côtés (Brown and Fernández 1991 : 115). Et dans
les années 80 et 90, Sendero Luminoso (Sentier
Lumineux, d’inspiration maoïste) a sans doute joué
sur les mêmes registres pour obtenir l’appui de cer-
taines communautés ashâninka, avant de les rebuter
définitivement par sa raideur idéologique et par ses
exactions.
La nature, l’ampleur et l’existence même d’un
“messianisme” ashâninka ont pourtant été récem-
ment rediscutées (Veber 2003) : peut-on vraiment
parler de “tradition messianique” à propos d’évé-
nements qui restent somme toute assez spora-
diques, et qui surtout ne semblent souvent accom-
pagnés d’aucune ritualisation particulière au mo-
ment même des faits? Mais c’est un débat dans
lequel je n’entrerai pas.2 Mon intention n’est pas
de caractériser la religiosité ashéninka, mais plu-
tôt d’examiner comment s’articulent ses multiples
facettes - y compris certains traits que l’on pour-
rait sans doute qualifier, sinon de messianiques, au
moins de millénaristes - et ce dans un contexte bien
spécifique, qui est celui des villages du département
de l’Ucayali au Pérou et de la frontière brésilienne.
2 Opposer comme le fait H. Veber les attitudes et discours
“millénaristes” à des comportements revendicatifs plus po-
litiques et plus “rationnels”, très présents eux aussi sur le
terrain, me semble relever d’un regard fort marqué par notre
propre rationalité. Cf. aussi les divers commentaires qui
suivent son article.
544
Marc Lenaerts
Pour l’instant, je me contenterai donc de sou-
ligner l’ancienneté des contacts avec la sierra, et,
vieille de plusieurs siècles, l’apparente perméabi-
lité de la culture ashâninka aux apports extérieurs :
messianiques ou non, le dieu soleil et les leaders
“fils du Soleil” relèvent de traditions qui à l’origine
n’ont rien d’amazonien.
Il ne faudrait pourtant pas s’y tromper : cette
perméabilité est souvent fort ambiguë, comme on
s’en apercevra au fil de l’exposé. Elle relève d’un
traitement assez particulier de l’autre et de l’al-
térité, ce qui ne saurait vraiment surprendre dans
le monde amérindien. Mais c’est là une question
que je tenterai de cerner peu à peu, en allant de
ses aspects les plus périphériques vers ceux que je
considère les plus centraux.
Christianisme et élaborations originales
La présence missionnaire est aujourd’hui en plein
reflux parmi les Ashéninka de TUcayali et du Gran
Pajonal. Les missions catholiques y ont à peu près
abandonné le terrain depuis un demi-siècle. Du côté
protestant, l’ILV (Instituto Linguistico de Verano/
Summer Institute of Linguistics) vient de se retirer
à son tour, considérant que son travail spécifique
parmi eux est terminé, et seuls les adventistes main-
tiennent encore des visites très sporadiques, vague-
ment relayées par la présence de quelques rares
convertis locaux.
Ces Ashéninka creyentes (au Pérou) ou crentes
(au Brésil) sont extrêmement minoritaires. L’in-
transigeance morale et l’exclusivisme dogma-
tique qui caractérisent la tradition évangéliste les
poussent à déserter tous les moments de la vie
sociale où se résolvent les tensions et où se res-
serrent les liens communautaires - fêtes, beuveries
et sessions d’ayahuasca -, les entraînant dans une
logique de rupture progressive qui peut d’ailleurs
leur coûter très cher en cas de malheur imprévu.
Tous, sans exception, aboutissent à un isolement
social qui est perceptible même dans l’espace ;
ils finissent par s’établir en ville, ou à quelques
méandres en amont ou en aval, ou encore dans un
village nouveau où Ton vivra entre soi - mais à
quelques-uns seulement.
Le reste des villageois, c’est-à-dire l’immense
majorité, préfère conserver son quant-à-soi à
l’égard des entreprises missionnaires. Cela ne
prend nullement la forme d’un rejet hostile, bien
au contraire. La visite occasionnelle d’un pasteur,
l’office qu’il décide de célébrer sont des événe-
ments, et tous y assistent, le chaman en tête, avant
de reprendre le cours de la vie quotidienne. Mais
on y assiste avec une politesse cérémonieuse qui
n’est au fond que l’autre visage d’une négation fon-
damentale du discours étranger - et aussitôt après,
c’est aux mythes et aux rites proprement ashéninka
que Ton revient, sans le moindre commentaire, sans
le moindre indice de tension.
Aucune des communautés que j’ai personnel-
lement visitées ne vit donc au rythme fastidieux
des discours moralisateurs, des interminables ser-
mons et des offices religieux quasi quotidiens qui
sont le lot de bien d’autres communautés amazo-
niennes - et dont un bon exemple pourrait être leurs
tout proches voisins, les Yaminahua du haut Yurua,
chez qui TILV maintient une présence directe fort
bien relayée localement : pour ces Yaminahua (du
groupe ethnolinguistique Pano), “sortis de la forêt”
il y a une quarantaine d’années à peine, le christia-
nisme représente très clairement la rupture avec le
passé “sauvage” et l’accès à la “modernité” - qui
s’accompagnent apparemment d’un abandon (mo-
mentané ?) de toute mythologie propre et de toute
pratique chamanique.
Pourtant, chez les Ashéninka de TUcayali et du
Gran Pajonal, l’absence missionnaire ne signifie
pas non plus que les matériaux chrétiens soient
absents de la vie quotidienne, bien loin de là. On
peut y trouver de tout, en fait, depuis une version
tropicalisée de la Genèse (avec fruit défendu du
goyavier et feuilles de bananier utilisées par Adam
et Eve pour se couvrir) jusqu’aux certificats de bap-
tême généralisés (catholiques et/ou protestants, peu
importe, pourvu qu’ils soient distribués absolument
à tous, et puissent être épinglés aux papiers d’iden-
tité), en passant par la possession de bibles jamais
lues ou les allusions aux Ashéninka bons chrétiens,
par opposition à ces sauvages de Yaminahua qui,
eux, etc.
Le tout me laisse quelque peu sceptique, pour-
tant. Tout d’abord, parce que tous ces éléments res-
tent extraordinairement atomisés, coupés à la fois
de tout leur contexte originel et de toute intégration
à une séquence nouvelle : pour ainsi dire, “la sauce
ne prend pas”. Ensuite, parce que leur densité d’ap-
parition tend à être exactement proportionnelle à
celle des visiteurs étrangers : il a fallu, par exemple,
le public additionnel de quelques botanistes péru-
viens pour assister à la systématisation des imita-
tions de prières chrétiennes en prélude aux cures
chamaniques, ou à la soudaine fabrication d’une
croix avec deux rameaux de plante médicinale - en
ma seule présence, on ne s’en était jamais donné la
peine.
Bref, on l’aura déjà compris : tels quels, et sans
préjuger de ce que tout cela pourrait donner à terme,
ces gestes isolés et ces bribes de discours “chré-
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pàwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
545
tiens” me semblent être avant tout des signes plu-
tôt que de véritables croyances : on les échange
avec les étrangers pour négocier sa place indivi-
duelle ou collective dans le paysage interethnique
“moderne”.
Quant à aller au-delà de cette valeur pure-
ment relationnelle des signes, c’est une autre af-
faire. Beaucoup sont tentés : commencer à deve-
nir creyente, c’est souvent le seul moyen d’aller en
ville ou de poursuivre des études un peu poussées.
Mais presque tous finissent par faire marche arrière
- et on peut les comprendre, à vrai dire, si l’on se
souvient des risques d’isolement social qu’impli-
querait une conversion définitive.
Mais par ailleurs, les Asháninka ont aussi déve-
loppé tout un système religieux propre, dont l’ori-
ginalité bien réelle se fonde sur un syncrétisme an-
cien et complexe - disons-le ainsi sans trop s’em-
barrasser de terminologie pour le moment. Tout
laisse supposer que son élaboration s’est étalée sur
plusieurs siècles, et qu’elle a été favorisée par leur
art de cultiver le quant-à-soi culturel, toujours bien
vivant à l’heure actuelle, et par leur histoire faite
d’une alternance de contacts interethniques fort an-
ciens avec la sierra et de longues périodes d’isole-
ment guerrier.
En schématisant un peu, le tableau d’ensemble
de leur religiosité actuelle présente donc trois
termes. A la périphérie, on trouve le dogme chrétien
(à l’heure actuelle, essentiellement sous ses formes
protestantes fondamentalistes), avec ses discours,
ses attitudes éthiques et ses rites propres, qui s’af-
firme d’emblée absolument exclusif, et dans lequel
les Ashéninka ne “tombent” qu’à titre individuel,
et au prix d’une périlleuse coupure avec le reste du
groupe. Au centre, un système de croyances et de
Pratiques religieuses propres, qui n’est bien sûr ni
dos sur lui-même ni figé en son état actuel : le but
Premier de cet article sera d’en analyser à la fois les
logiques et les contradictions. Et enfin, “flottant”
entre les deux, toute une série d’éléments épars,
fi’origine chrétienne, mais au statut assez problé-
matique.
En pratique, le pôle religieux “proprement ashâ-
mnka” devient vite assez facile à distinguer des
autres : c’est une question de langue, de façons de
fiire et de contextes, ainsi que de noms, de pratiques
et de thèmes qui renvoient sans cesse les uns aux
antres. Ce qui lui donne cependant l’allure d’un
ensemble aux contours assez problématiques, c’est
qu’il se trouve éclaté en plusieurs domaines ou ver-
Sants, qui à nos yeux peuvent tous relever plus ou
Uïoins du religieux, certes, mais pas exactement au
^êrne titre. De plus, rien ne vient vraiment unifier
Ces multiples versants, ni un personnage comme
ô-nth
celui du chaman, ni un espace ou un moment qui
serait réservé au rite pourtant devenu central des
sessions d'ayahuasca, ni une pratique ou un dis-
cours comme la cure ou le mythe.
Les diverses facettes du religieux s’articulent
plutôt en réseau, sans aucun centre vraiment défi-
nissable. Je les parcourrai donc l’une après l’autre :
d’abord la figure de Pâwa, divinité centrale, dans
les mythes et les pratiques quotidiennes ; puis le
chamanisme, ses variations géographiques et his-
toriques, et les sessions d'ayahuasca - où Pâwa ap-
paraît, mais avec bien d’autres “êtres de la nature” ;
et enfin le discours ontologique, la perception de
l’Être et des “êtres de la nature”, ce qui nous ramè-
nera aux mythes et à Pâwa, bouclant ainsi la boucle.
Chacune de ces facettes est travaillée par l’histoire
et le changement. Chaque fois, on essaiera de pré-
ciser sous quelle forme exactement.
La (re)constmction de Pâwa
La figure de Pâwa,3 à laquelle j’ai déjà fait quelques
allusions plus haut, est la seule qui par certains de
ses aspects approche d’une divinité au sens chrétien
du terme, et elle présente sans aucun doute des traits
nettement hybrides.
D’un côté, Pâwa apparaît dans les mythes
comme un avatar tout à fait typique des héros
civilisateurs amazoniens liés aux temps originels,
lorsque plantes et animaux étaient encore des
hommes. Séparateur plus encore que créateur, son
rôle est de mettre en place l’ordre actuel du monde.
C’est lui, par exemple, qui accorde l’immortalité
aux arbres et aux animaux qui changent périodi-
quement d’écorce ou de carapace, mais pas aux
humains, qui dormaient au lieu de répondre à ses
appels. C’est lui aussi qui donne aux hommes la
coca, ainsi que la petite liane et la pierre à chaux
calcinée qu’on lui associe, en sacrifiant son fils et
en écartelant sa femme infidèle.
Mais surtout, c’est lui qui, lassé des turbu-
lences de sa parentèle humaine, décide finalement
3 Littéralement, “père”, et le mot s’intégre dans le système des
termes de parenté : pour désigner ou appeler l’oncle paternel,
on dit Pawachôri, litt. “père éloigné”. Mais en pratique, le
mot a tendance à se spécialiser : dans l’Ucayali et au Brésil,
pour s’adresser au père réel, on préférait la forme hispanisée
“papa”.
Par ailleurs, dans ces mêmes régions, on attribue ou on
associe à Pâwa certains épisodes mythiques qui sont ailleurs
le fait d’un autre héros mythique, Avireri (Weiss 1975 : 309,
407, Rio Tambo). On peut y voir un certain appauvrissement
du corpus mythologique, bien entendu. Mais si appauvris-
sement il y a, la tendance à tout concentrer sur la figure de
Pâwa est en soi fort significative.
iropos 101.2006
546
Marc Lenaerts
de l’abandonner à son propre sort, en disparaissant
à jamais vers le monde céleste. Le moment où il
s’échappe le long d’une échelle, juste avant que le
ciel ne s’éloigne définitivement de la terre, est aussi
la dernière occasion de parachever son œuvre : il
fait basculer l’échelle, et tous les parents et alliés
qui ont tenté de le suivre retombent sur le sol en se
transformant, d’après leurs particularités physiques
et les hasards de leur chute, qui en porc-épic, avec
toutes ses flèches enfoncées dans le corps, qui en
paresseux, la tête et les membres ressoudés à l’en-
vers, qui en arbre thonénto (Cavanillesia spp.), la
nuque définitivement raidie par le choc.4
“Le jour où Pâwa nous a abandonnés”, c’est
donc avant tout, dans la bonne tradition amazo-
nienne, le moment de la grande rupture - rupture de
l’indifférenciation originelle des espèces, rupture
entre le ciel et la terre, rupture entre les hommes
et le divin.
A cette première figure de Pâwa vient pourtant
s’en superposer quelques autres, qui la contredisent
en grande partie ; Pâwa, c’est aussi le dieu soleil,
ainsi que “notre père à tous” dont la présence et
la puissance d’intervention se font apparemment
bien sentir dans la vie quotidienne. On précise,
par exemple, très souvent que suite à telle ou telle
attitude peu sociale, “Pâwa punit”. Ou à l’inverse,
et sur un ton plus dramatique, que se mettre à
“prier Pâwa” est sans doute le meilleur recours pour
essayer de conjurer le danger lorsqu’apparaissent
les signes avant-coureurs d’une catastrophe (qui
prendra sans doute la forme d’un nouveau déluge,
tout prêt à anéantir l’humanité actuelle).
Mais pour éviter tout malentendu, je préfère in-
sister d’emblée sur un point, quitte à anticiper un
peu. Il faut ici distinguer clairement “Pâwa” du
“Dios” ou du “Deus” des chrétiens péruviens ou
brésiliens : dans la bouche des Ashéninka, Pâwa
n’est jamais que “comme” Dios, “comme” Deus,
qui représentent quant à eux le dieu des autres -
dieu d’un autre monde et d’une autre langue. Et à
l’inverse des “signes flottants” d’origine chrétienne
qui ont été mentionnés plus haut, les rôles punis-
seurs ou salvateurs de Pâwa semblent bien inté-
grés à l’ensemble. Il ne s’agit nullement de deux
registres distincts, le mythique et le religieux, ni
d’un placage des traits du Dieu chrétien sur une
figure ou un nom mythique indigène, comme les
missionnaires ont réussi à en imposer ailleurs.
Ceci dit, le problème reste entier. Avec d’un
côté un héros civilisateur qui a définitivement aban-
donné les hommes, et de l’autre un dieu suprême
4 Pour l’intégralité des mythes cités dans cet article, cf. Le-
naerts (2002:395 ss.).
qui est aussi juge ou sauveur, les deux visages de
Pâwa ne semblent guère compatibles. Par hypo-
thèse, on l’abordera pourtant comme un ensemble
unitaire malgré ses ambiguïtés, plutôt que de recou-
rir trop vite au principe de coupure de R. Bastide.
Continuons donc à débroussailler le terrain.
Les diverses “couches” culturelles qui com-
posent la figure de Pâwa sont d’origine assez évi-
dente. La plus ancienne est presque à coup sûr
celle du héros civilisateur, qui est conforme à un
modèle panamazonien. Sa métamorphose en dieu
soleil (plutôt qu’en une lointaine et indifférente
étoile, ce qui serait plus classique), tout à la fin
de ses aventures terrestres, est sans doute d’origine
andine. Quant au père-juge, punisseur ou salvateur,
il semble marqué par de très nettes réminiscences
chrétiennes.
Dater les processus d’articulation ou de fusion
des éléments issus de cette triple source s’avère par
contre beaucoup plus problématique. L’apparition
de la figure solaire est sans doute assez ancienne.
En tout cas, sa première mention date de 1742,
à propos du chef rebelle Juan Santos Atahualpa,
qui se fait appeler “fils du Soleil”, on l’a vu. Mais
cela fait-il déjà sens aux yeux de ses partisans,
comment le laissent entendre les chroniqueurs ? La
dimension solaire de Pâwa entre-t-elle pleinement
en jeu à cette occasion, ou seulement plus tard ?
Ou peut-être remonte-t-elle à l’époque des contacts
préhispaniques avec le monde andin ? Les données
précises manquent pour en évaluer exactement les
dates et rythmes d’intégration.
Et elles manquent tout autant en ce qui concerne
les aspects liés à un dieu plus moralisateur, juge du
bien et du mal. On en était encore loin aux XVIIe
et XVIIIe siècles, comme le montrent à suffisance
les commentaires désabusés des premiers mission-
naires. Quelque chose avait-il déjà changé suite
à la rébellion de Juan Santos Atahualpa, comme
cela a sans doute été le cas chez les Yanesha, dont
les prêtres-prophètes se caractérisaient par une très
forte autorité morale (Santos Granero 1991)? Ou
faut-il attendre la fin du XIXe siècle, lorsque les
Péruviens (et les missions) reprennent pied en ter-
ritoire ashâninka? Mais même à partir de cette
époque, comment évaluer exactement l’ampleur et
la profondeur des changements, lorsque les seules
sources disponibles sont les missionnaires ou les
indigènes les plus étroitement liés aux missions ?
Contradictions et bricolage
Ceci dit, le nœud de la question ne me semble p&s
vraiment là. Il ne s’agit pas de déterminer la stra-
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pàwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
tification d’une série d’emprunts simplement accu-
mulés, mais d’analyser l’articulation problématique
de logiques divergentes ou contradictoires : s’il est
bien difficile d’en dater et même d’en retracer les
étapes, on peut au moins espérer en comprendre la
manière, les problèmes et les enjeux tels qu’ils se
présentent à l’heure actuelle.
Avec l’apparition du dieu solaire et surtout du
dieu juge, le rôle originel de Pàwa-héros civili-
sateur se trouve passablement bousculé. C’est un
peu comme si après sa mise en ordre du monde et
son départ “définitif” vers les lointaines régions cé-
lestes, il revenait malgré tout sur terre - mais pour
y faire quoi ? Ce “Dieu le Père” qui revient prendre
toute la place dans le ciel (sans pourtant jamais se
confondre tout à fait avec le soleil météorologique,
que l’on appelle Oriya), qu’a-t-il donc de neuf à
dire aux Ashéninka ?
Les épisodes répétés des rebelles “fils de Pâ-
wa”/“fils du Soleil” le suggèrent assez nettement :
c’est du côté des bousculades de l’histoire qu’il faut
chercher un écho aux bousculades mythologiques.
Or, parmi les nombreux mythes relatifs à Pàwa,
il en est un qui s’avère de nature assez différente
des autres : celui de l’irruption des “Péruviens” (ou
des Blancs, les wirakocha, un terme emprunté à la
langue quechua) dans le monde de la forêt. Aux
yeux des Ashéninka de l’Ucayali et du Brésil, il ap-
partient explicitement au cycle des temps originels,
avant le grand départ de Pàwa. Mais aux nôtres, il
est bien entendu historiquement daté.
Le mythe raconte comment, au lieu d’écouter
les conseils de prudence de son père, un des fils
de Pàwa s’en va pêcher dans un lac de la forêt.
Au bout de sa ligne, il ramène d’abord le coq,
dont le chant l’avait séduit. Mais ensuite surgit “la
fille du Péruvien”, puis, agrippé à ses jambes, “le
Péruvien” lui-même, puis la file interminable de ses
Parents : leur nombre est tel qu’il faut en faire un
grand massacre. Pour finir, Pàwa fixe un grand clou
dans le sol, et plante de force “le Péruvien” dessus :
ce sera là son domaine, où il construira sa ville -
tandis qu’il fait reculer au loin la rivière et la forêt,
Pour les réserver aux Ashéninka.
Mieux encore : lorsqu’on précise son nom, ce
fils désobéissant de Pàwa le dieu soleil s’appelle
eu fait Inca - du moins dans la version que j’ai
taoi-même recueillie, ou dans celle de M. Kitaka
Rendes, elle aussi brésilienne (1996 : 17). Mais
ailleurs, c’est autrement que les mythes asháninka
associent Inca (ou Pachakamaite) à cette invasion
des “Péruviens” ou des wirakocha, tout en opérant
Par rapport aux données historiques un triple ren-
Versement : Inca (qui comme on l’a vu n’est pas ici
Uli Andin, mais un Asháninka) a été envoyé en aval
Anthr
547
(et non en amont, aux sources andines des rivières),
où il est prisonnier des Blancs et doit fabriquer pour
eux tous les objets de métal - dont le secret a en
fait été volé aux Ashâninka, qui sont depuis lors
contraints à les acheter.
Résumons le tableau obtenu jusqu’ici. Pâwa, le
héros organisateur des temps premiers, avait mis
en place l’ordre définitif du monde, puis avait dis-
paru, sa tâche dûment accomplie : la vie de la forêt
amazonienne pouvait désormais suivre son cours.
Mais l’histoire a fait qu’avec l’arrivée des colons,
cet ordre incontournable s’est révélé être en même
temps un insupportable désordre. Et un fait nouveau
aussi inconfortable, il faut bien en rendre compte,
d’une manière ou d’une autre. C’est sous cet angle
que je lirais le premier dédoublement (ou redou-
blement) de la figure de Pâwa : à la fois le héros
disparu, garant de l’ordre immuable du monde, et
le dieu solaire, dont les fils renversés renverseront
à leur tour, un jour ou l’autre, l’injustice faite aux
peuples de la forêt.
On a là un parfait exemple de “bricolage”, au
sens lévi-straussien du terme. Pour pouvoir s’im-
briquer l’une à l’autre, les “pièces” d’origine dis-
cordante doivent passer par une relative myopie
structurale (les jeux entre historicité et temporalité
mythique sont à cet égard tout à fait significatifs),
mais elles conservent cependant certaines précon-
traintes, comme des adhérences relevant de leur
emploi dans les contextes antérieurs.
Ainsi, malgré tous les renversements structu-
raux, au personnage d’Inca, fils du Soleil mais de-
venu pur Ashéninka, restent associées la question
des rapports difficiles entre sociétés étatiques et so-
ciétés de la forêt (rapports qui datent ici de bien
avant la conquête espagnole, rappelons-le), celle
des échanges inégaux et des disparités technolo-
giques, celle aussi des revendications ethniques la-
tentes et des révoltes historiques. Et de son côté,
pour gérer l’apparition soudaine des conquistadors,
Pâwa reprend ses traits typiquement amazoniens de
démiurge organisateur/séparateur : son rôle princi-
pal reste dans cet épisode de réassigner à chacun sa
place (faussement) définitive, les “Péruviens” dans
les villes amazoniennes, et les Ashéninka sur les
rivières et dans la forêt.
Il subsiste cependant dans tout cela un petit pro-
blème de cohérence : reconnaître un ordre appa-
remment définitif au monde, tout en sous-entendant
son désordre fondamental et en s’attendant à son
renversement naturel, cela a quelque chose d’un
peu acrobatique. Au quotidien, les Ashéninka oscil-
lent régulièrement d’une position à l’autre, sans que
la contradiction latente les gêne le moins du monde,
semble-t-il. J’ai l’impression que cette oscillation
'opos 101.2006
548
Marc Lenaerts
logique est facilitée par certaines réinterprétations
du troisième versant de la figure de Pâwa, celui du
dieu punisseur et salvateur, qui est peut-être un peu
moins chrétien qu’il n’y paraît à première vue.
Pâwa sauve ...
Malgré le mythe d’Inca, malgré une certaine ten-
dance historique à se laisser entraîner par des “fils
de Pâwa” venus leur prêcher la rébellion qui les ré-
tablira enfin dans leurs droits, la plupart des Ashé-
ninka ne sont guère bavards sur la manière dont
pourrait se produire un tel renversement réparateur.
Il faut dire qu’il leur a souvent fallu payer très
cher la confiance accordée à ces prophètes venus
d’ailleurs, surtout lors des derniers épisodes des
années 80 et 90, où beaucoup se sont trouvés pris
entre les brutales exactions de Sendero Luminoso
et la répression tout aussi brutale de l’armée pé-
ruvienne. Les discours revendicatifs explicites que
l’on entend aujourd’hui sont surtout ceux des nou-
veaux leaders politiques, liés au monde urbain, qui
ne se distinguent en rien de ceux des autres leaders
indigènes.
Pourtant, il existe aujourd’hui chez les Ashé-
ninka quelque chose qui continue malgré tout à
évoquer un certain “millénarisme” : tout autant que
dans les mythes, on rencontre dans de nombreux
discours quotidiens tantôt des allusions à l’injustice
et au désordre fondamental cachées sous l’ordre
apparent des choses, tantôt l’annonce du grand bou-
leversement qui mettra fin au monde actuel. Mais
cela ne s’exprime que sur un ton exclusivement
pessimiste, celui du déluge, du désordre et de la
catastrophe. Quant à la possibilité du renversement
réparateur, si elle y est inscrite, elle ne l’est qu’en
creux.
Pâwa joue un rôle dans cette affaire, mais pour
bien l’évaluer, il faut examiner de plus près ce qui
est explicitement dit. Le sentiment de l’imminence
d’une catastrophe est très présent chez les Ashé-
ninka, j’en ai moi-même été témoin à plusieurs
reprises. Dans les moments de crise, on peut très
facilement plonger dans une véritable atmosphère
de fin du monde, où se mêlent inextricablement
les malheurs personnels qui s’annoncent et l’attente
d’une réédition du premier déluge, dont le récit in-
lassablement répété sert alors de clé de lecture aux
angoisses présentes.
Dans ce cas, il faut “prier Pâwa”, je l’ai signalé
plus haut. Mais qu’est-ce que cela signifie exacte-
ment ? Du mythe du déluge qui sert de modèle et
de référence explicite à ce genre de situation, Pâwa
lui-même est tout à fait absent - en fait, il n’y est
même pas mentionné. C’est tout seul, et par le seul
effet de son savoir, qu’un chaman parvient à sauver
sa famille et à donner ainsi naissance à une nouvelle
humanité. Dans un tel cadre, quel effet l’idée de
“prier Pâwa” peut-elle bien avoir ? D’après tous les
commentaires indigènes, il est très vague et très hy-
pothétique : peut-être cela retardera-t-il l’échéance,
peut-être cela donnera-t-il la force de rééditer l’ex-
ploit du chaman du mythe ? Dans un cas comme
dans l’autre, le plus clair de l’histoire est que le dieu
salvateur se manifeste sur un mode extrêmement
lointain et impersonnel, comme une force abstraite
plutôt que comme un véritable intercesseur.
Ce très lointain sauveur est évidemment beau-
coup moins chrétien qu’on ne le croirait de prime
abord. On peut y voir tout simplement l’effet d’un
processus classique de réinterprétation, caractérisé
ici encore par les précontraintes du bricolage : le
mythe très amazonien du déluge se situe après la
grande séparation des temps premiers, c’est-à-dire
lorsque Pâwa a déjà disparu au loin depuis bien
longtemps.
Mais j’aimerais malgré tout souligner combien
la manière ashéninka de superposer sur cette figure
de Pâwa les matériaux a priori disparates de trois
traditions - chrétienne, amazonienne et andine -
leur permet d’ouvrir une voie nouvelle : il devient
possible de jouer sur deux tableaux à la fois, celui
de la temporalité mythique et celui du devenir his-
torique. Pâwa est le sauveur ultime, certes, mais le
grand bouleversement auquel on s’attend sera sans
doute comme un nouveau déluge : il faudra s’y
sauver soi-même. Ou encore, en le disant en termes
plus messianiques, peut-être est-ce en suivant les
“fils du Soleil” que l’on pourra rendre la métallur-
gie d’Inca à ses inventeurs Ashâninka; mais cela
sans oublier que tous les Ashâninka sont en réalité
les “fils de Pâwa”, “notre Père à tous”. Glisser ainsi
d’un registre à l’autre permet toutes les ambiguïtés :
l’ordre du monde est tel qu’il nous a été laissé, mais
l’avenir est laissé aux mains des hommes.
La promesse de réparation de l’injustice histo-
rique faite aux Ashâninka est donc un peu comme
Pâwa, présente et absente à la fois. Elle n’est ins-
crite que dans le fait qu’un désordre appelle une
remise en ordre, mais sur les champs de bataille de
l’Apocalypse ashâninka, il n’y a à attendre aucune
apparition d’un dieu des armées, allié et vengeur,
à la manière judéo-chrétienne. Le cadre de pensée
reste fondamentalement indigène : Pâwa le “sau-
veur” lointain n’est là que comme figure de l’at-
tente, et tout dépendra en définitive du jeu imprévi-
sible des relations entre les êtres terrestres (ce qui
n’empêche en rien que certains d’entre eux puissent
à l’occasion se montrer doués de pouvoirs extraor-
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
dinaires, bien entendu, et jouer ainsi un rôle proche
de celui d’une figure messianique).
... et Pâwa punit
Dans les “châtiments” que Pâwa peut dit-on infli-
ger aux individus, il me semble que l’on retrouve
exactement le même genre d’ambiguïtés et de réin-
terprétations. On s’y heurte aux mêmes contradic-
tions : Pâwa y reste caractérisé par un extrême éloi-
gnement, de tradition bien amazonienne, tout en
ayant apparemment un rôle de juge des actions in-
dividuelles, de ton nettement plus chrétien. Je crois
cependant qu’il y a là beaucoup d’un “malentendu
fécond” à la Marshall Sahlins.
Prenons un exemple typique ; il faut s’astreindre
à un très minutieux sarclage des champs, car “si
on ne désherbe pas, Pâwa punit. [Les plantes de
manioc] deviennent tristes et elles s’en vont. Il y a
les tiges, tout est normal apparemment, mais il n’y
a plus de tubercules, seulement des racines comme
celles d’un arbre de la forêt. C’est la même chose
pour les bananiers, sous la pelure il n’y a plus rien,
c’est tout sec.”
Mais en y regardant de plus près, on s’aperçoit
vite que si “Pâwa punit” dans ce cas, c’est vrai-
ment de très loin, et à la façon très abstraite d’un
simple garant de l’ordre des choses : il n’est en
rien maître de la forêt, et depuis son grand dé-
part, il n’entretient plus aucun rapport direct avec
elle. Si fruits et racines sèchent ainsi, c’est suite
à un jeu de pures relations interpersonnelles : tout
comme des parentes consanguines mal accueillies
peuvent s’en aller mécontentes (l’identification est
explicite : “les plants de manioc sont nos sœurs”),
les plantes mal soignées risquent de s’en retourner
vivre auprès de leurs parentes sylvestres.
Cependant, pour pouvoir être intégrée et réin-
terprétée ainsi, l’idée malgré tout assez chrétienne
de punition divine a bien dû prendre appui sur
des traits culturels proprement ashâninka. Or ces
traits sont nombreux, et ils sont même exception-
nellement accusés. Les chroniqueurs les signalent
d’ailleurs très tôt.
Tout d’abord, chose assez rare en Amazonie, il
régné parmi les Ashâninka une très forte prohi-
bition des vendettas et guerres internes, qui les a
d’ailleurs beaucoup aidés à résister aux tentatives
de conquête des Andins puis des Espagnols. En-
suite, on souligne aussi depuis des siècles combien
ds répriment systématiquement dans leurs attitudes
toute expression ouverte de la douleur physique
et morale. Enfin, mais là il est plus difficile d’en
évaluer exactement la profondeur historique (qui
549
ne doit pas aller au-delà d’un siècle ou un siècle
et demi), à cela s’ajoute dans certaines des régions
que j’ai connues le poids très insistant d’une véri-
table morale du travail et de l’effort - par exemple
à propos du fastidieux sarclage des champs et des
lieux habités, que je viens de citer.
Pourtant, ces attitudes volontiers moralisatrices
ne signifient en rien un ethos de la faute et de
la culpabilité. Chacun vit sa propre vie selon
ses élans personnels, en négligeant éventuellement
tous ses devoirs d’Ashéninka, ou même en enfrei-
gnant les prohibitions les plus strictes. J’ai vécu,
par exemple, dans un village considéré par les
autres comme un repaire de kamàiteri, c’est-à-dire
de “tueurs” (c’est là une espèce de catégorie carac-
térielle) : à son leader, on n’attribuait pas moins
de 14 meurtres - bien que selon la règle partout
répétée, “les Ashéninka ne se tuent pas entre eux”.
Et pour la petite histoire, on peut mesurer tout
ce qui sépare l’éthique ashéninka de la nôtre à partir
du commentaire cité plus haut, à propos des foudres
potagères de Pâwa qui s’abattent sur les sarcleuses
trop négligentes ; il m’a été fait deux jours à peine
avant un nouveau meurtre qui couvait depuis long-
temps dans le village, et selon toute probabilité
par le meurtrier lui-même - dont on aura compris
qu’ensuite, il ne se sentirait pas exactement ravagé
par le poids d’un très chrétien remords.
Pourtant, c’est vrai, “Pâwa punit”. Mais c’est
tout simplement au sens où tout écart finit mal-
gré tout par devoir se payer, un peu comme avec
les prohibitions alimentaires, que l’on enfreint sans
cesse, et qui servent surtout à expliquer les mal-
heurs survenant ensuite. Il en va de même avec le
“village de tueurs”, par exemple. Depuis des an-
nées, ils avaient déjà dû s’établir fort à l’écart des
autres : c’est la sanction sociale habituelle en ce
cas. Et après le dernier meurtre, l’âme errante de
l’homme assassiné rôdait parmi eux pour se venger,
un bébé en était déjà mort, sa mère s’en était allée
au loin, vers une région plus isolée encore, et tous
les autres se demandaient s’ils ne devraient pas en
faire autant.
Concluons provisoirement en ce qui concerne ce
personnage de Pâwa. On ne peut jamais exclure que
des éléments exogènes, malgré toutes les réinter-
prétations qu’ils subissent, finissent par modifier en
profondeur la matrice indigène - que, selon l’ex-
pression d’André Mary, “le masque puisse triom-
pher du visage”. Mais dans la conception générale
de la divinité et de ses rapports avec les hommes,
qui dans l’Ucayali et au Brésil tourne aujourd’hui
essentiellement autour de la figure de Pâwa, ce qui
me frappe serait plutôt le mélange de souplesse
et de stabilité de l’ensemble, tel qu’il se trouve à
toithropos 101.2006
550
Marc Lenaerts
présent construit. Le résultat semble parfaitement
analysable en termes de “bricolage”, au sens lévi-
straussien - un bricolage aux origines sans doute
assez anciennes, qui ne semble plus guère soumis
aux pressions de l’urgence, et qui tout en se main-
tenant dans un cadre de pensée fondamentalement
indigène, parvient à intégrer à sa manière la ques-
tion du devenir historique en jouant sur de souples
glissements d’un registre à l’autre.
Le ou les chamanismes ashéninka
Si le bricolage qui tourne autour de la figure di-
vine de Pâwa paraît aujourd’hui assez stable, le
chamanisme ashéninka semble au contraire perpé-
tuellement travaillé par des changements rapides et
multiples, qui sont toujours bien en cours. C’est
très classique en Amazonie, où cela fait longtemps
qu’on ne voit plus le chaman comme un simple gar-
dien de la tradition, voire une simple survivance du
passé, mais comme le spécialiste par excellence des
relations les plus pressantes et les plus inquiétantes
avec “les autres” et avec l’altérité, relations qui bien
entendu ne cessent d’évoluer.
Le chaman est en fait un personnage superbe-
ment paradoxal. D’un côté, personne n’est plus so-
ciocentré et ethnocentré que lui : son objectif est en
principe le bien-être de tous au sein de sa commu-
nauté, et sa tâche est de traduire tous les déséqui-
libres, quels qu’ils soient (aléas “traditionnels” ou
irruption de réalités nouvelles), dans les termes qui
seront les plus acceptables et les plus assimilables
par la tradition culturelle du groupe.
D’un autre côté, ce travail de réorganisation cen-
tripète l’oblige à se tenir de façon privilégiée sur les
zones d’interface, que ce soit avec les animaux, les
esprits ou les étrangers, pour en ramener ce qui sera
utile à la protection des siens - et tout naturelle-
ment, le chaman se caractérise presque toujours par
une forte dose d’inventivité individuelle, y compris
dans les domaines apparemment les plus profanes.
Inventeur de traditions et intégrateur d’irréduc-
tible altérité, le chaman est donc tout spécialement
sensible au changement, et tout spécialement enclin
à un travail de bricolage syncrétique. Mais il faut
sans doute ajouter que cela se fait dans un cadre
un peu particulier : d’avance, l’espace ouvert aux
jeux et aux enjeux du syncrétisme est ainsi claire-
ment balisé - c’est une caractéristique des cultures
amazoniennes (et sans doute plus largement, amé-
rindiennes), dont on a souvent souligné à quel point
elles font preuve, dans de multiples domaines, de
ce que l’on pourrait appeler une véritable soif de
l’altérité, conçue comme un élément constitutif de
l’identité. Je préciserai peu à peu ce point essen-
tiel, mais en attendant, voyons à quoi ressemble
le chamanisme ashéninka : malgré sa diversité et
sa perpétuelle tendance au changement, il est fort
possible de découvrir des lignes directrices dans ses
logiques et ses contradictions.
Sous leur forme la plus banale et la plus pai-
sible, les rapports du chaman avec les traditions
étrangères se résument à l’adoption de simples ma-
tériaux, qu’il intègre sans autre forme de procès à
l’ensemble de ses pratiques et de ses atouts habi-
tuels : les emprunts sont à la fois des signes et des
éléments constitutifs d’un pouvoir particulièrement
affirmé, capable de mettre à son service les hautes
puissances de l’altérité, et tout chaman vraiment
digne de ce nom s’efforce d’ajouter à sa panoplie
symbolique quelques chants appris des peuples voi-
sins, ou de tirer quelques-uns de ses esprits alliés
des réalités les plus nouvelles, camphre ou moteur
de génératrice, par exemple.
Mais bien entendu, les choses peuvent aller
beaucoup plus loin, et il existe des traces histo-
riques d’au moins un emprunt qui a profondément
bouleversé le cadre général : celui de V ayahuasca,
un hallucinogène qui est aujourd’hui devenu com-
mun à tout l’Ouest amazonien. Son adoption par les
Ashéninka, sous le nom de kamarâmpi,5 est sans
doute relativement récente. En tout cas, à certains
endroits, elle appartient encore à la mémoire vi-
vante : une femme d’une cinquantaine d’années se
souvenait encore que dans sa jeunesse, son oncle,
chaman de la région de Chanchamayo, n’utilisait
jamais de kamarâmpi, mais seulement du concentré
de tabac.
C’est en effet le tabac, shéri, qui était précé-
demment la substance chamanique par excellence,
comme le rappelle d’ailleurs encore le nom même
du chaman, sheripiâri. Mais à l’heure actuelle, le
kamarâmpi s’est imposé partout - avec cependant
quelques variations locales : dans la région fort iso-
lée du Gran Pajonal, par exemple, le tabac conserve
malgré tout une place quotidienne plus importante
que Vayahuasca.
Comment le nouvel hallucinogène s’est-il ainsi
retrouvé aujourd’hui au cœur même du chama-
nisme ashéninka, au point de l’emporter presque
partout sur le tabac? Peter Gow (1994) attribue
5 Le mot dérive de la racine verbale -kamarank-, “vomir”-
à cause d’un effet secondaire assez fréquent. Tout comme
le terme d’origine quechua ayahuasca, le mot kamarâmp1
désigne à la fois l’un des deux ingrédients de base, l’écorce
de Banisteriopsis caapi, et le breuvage lui-même, qui en
plus comprend toujours des feuilles de Psychotria viridis
(auxquelles s’ajoutent parfois quelques ingrédients suppl6'
mentaires).
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
551
son succès et sa diffusion rapide dans tout l’Ouest
amazonien à un processus où interviendraient lar-
gement des critères de prestige interethnique : loin
d’être un trait originel de la plupart des “indiens de
la forêt”, son usage se serait plutôt répandu dans
un contexte urbain ou semi-urbain, à travers les
groupes les plus acculturés et métissés, indios cris-
tianos des missions d’abord, mozos travaillant pour
les patrons du caoutchouc ensuite.
C’est possible, quoique mes propres données
suggèrent plutôt des emprunts qui se sont faits au-
trefois en sens divers (Lenaerts 2004 ; 217). J’ajou-
terais aussi que les caractéristiques propres du psy-
chotrope ont dû jouer : il n’y a pas vraiment de
commune mesure entre les troubles visuels un peu
nauséeux provoqués par le concentré de jus de ta-
bac, et les véritables cycles d’hallucinations audi-
tives et visuelles de V ayahuasca, qui dans leur dé-
roulement font l’effet d’une authentique séquence
initiatique.
Mais quoi qu’il en soit, l’important à mon sens
se trouve plutôt dans les résultats de ces transfor-
mations, et surtout dans les nouvelles perspectives
qu’elles ont ouvertes. Le rôle du tabac n’a pas dis-
paru. Il reste même la pierre de touche de tout pou-
voir véritable ; un apprenti chaman doit d’abord
apprendre à maîtriser l’esprit de Vayahuasca, ré-
puté plus facile, avant de songer à aborder celui
du tabac. Mais de son côté, par ses qualités hal-
lucinogènes propres, Vayahuasca a été l’occasion
d’un véritable bouleversement du cadre rituel : en
plus de ses usages dans des contextes de cure et
d’apprentissage chamanique (ce qui était déjà le
rôle traditionnel du tabac, ou de Vayahuasca elle-
même chez les peuples voisins), elle est devenue
le support de véritables cérémonies collectives, au
cours desquelles tous les assistants en consomment
et participent ainsi aux visions du chaman.
Ce sont là des pratiques tout à fait originales
dans la région. Le premier à les décrire a été Gerald
Weiss, qui les a rencontrées plus à l’ouest, chez les
Ashâninka des Rios Tambo, Ené et Perené, et sous
deux formes distinctes : d’après lui, en règle géné-
rale, le chaman est le seul à chanter, les assistants
‘restent des spectateurs qui apprécient passivement
sa virtuosité” ; plus rarement (“en un seul endroit
du territoire Campa que j’ai visité”), les autres
chantent aussi, et le chaman “reste le maître de
cérémonie mais n’est plus le seul virtuose” (Weiss
1973 :44-46).
Trente ans plus tard, pourtant, sur les Rios Yurua
(Pérou) et Envira (Brésil), c’est cette deuxième for-
mule qui était devenue de règle : tous les assistants,
Jeunes et vieux, entonnent les mêmes chants à peu
Près aux mêmes moments, mais pas à l’unisson, ce
qui aboutit à des espèces de canons d’allure très
informelle. Le rôle perceptible du chaman se limite
en fait à conduire et à harmoniser la progression de
l’ensemble : c’est souvent lui qui lance ou relance
les différents chants, notamment. Tout le village
est en principe invité à participer à ces séances, et
les apprentis chamanes ne s’y distinguent que par
le fait de prendre un peu plus de breuvage, et de
chanter un peu plus que les autres.
Cette participation de tous et ce rôle de véritable
maître de cérémonie dévolu au chaman sont fort
originaux, et G. Weiss hésitait sur l’interprétation à
leur donner : peut-être s’agissait-il d’une influence
andine ou missionnaire, peut-être avait-il découvert
là un “chaînon manquant” entre prêtrise et chama-
nisme - comme le suggère le titre de son article,
l’auteur fonde toute son approche (de ton assez évo-
lutionniste) sur l’opposition entre magie et religion
(1973 : 46). Je préfère quant à moi aborder la ques-
tion sous l’angle de ses variations, de ses logiques
et de ses contradictions internes.
Il faut pour cela donner quelques détails sur le
contenu des cérémonies et sur leur progression.
Au fil de la séance, les thèmes des visions et
des chants évoluent. Dans une première étape, ils
concernent d’abord l’état hallucinatoire lui-même,
puis, de plus en plus, la venue progressive des es-
prits : tantôt celui du tabac (qui garde une place cen-
trale, bien qu’on n’en consomme pas en cette oc-
casion), celui de Vayahuasca elle-même (l’écorce
de Banisteriopsis caapï) et celui de la horôwa
(l’autre ingrédient de base, Psychotria viridis) ; tan-
tôt ceux d’esprits animaux, tout particulièrement
ceux des oiseaux tisserins (Ictéridés), considérés
partout comme des alliés privilégiés des hommes.
Mais ce qui est nouveau sur le Rio Yurua, c’est
que ces (bons) esprits annoncent et préparent en fait
l’arrivée de Pâwa (encore lui !), qui marque le point
culminant de la cérémonie. Il y a trente ans, sur les
Rios Tambo, Ené et Perené, G. Weiss ne signalait
pourtant que la seule présence des “bons esprits”.
On se trouve donc à présent fort loin des cha-
manismes de cure ou de divination, qui semblent
avoir été caractéristiques du tabac, à en croire les
récits mythiques, mais aussi ce qui subsiste de son
emploi dans les pratiques actuelles. Ici, on se ras-
semble, on participe directement à la cérémonie (et
on y participerait même de plus en plus, d’après la
comparaison de mes propres données avec celles de
G. Weiss), et l’attente est celle d’une apparition des
“bons esprits”, et même aujourd’hui du dieu solaire
Pâwa, “notre père à tous”.
Anthropos 101.2006
552
Marc Lenaerts
Un nouveau modèle chamanique ?
Bref, il y a sans doute eu évolution, et l’on devine
assez bien sur quelle particularité culturelle elle a
pu trouver appui. Je l’ai déjà signalée plus haut,
mais il faut la souligner à nouveau : une des caracté-
ristiques les plus marquantes de l’ensemble Campa
(Ashâninka, Matsiguenga et Nomatsiguenga) est la
stricte prohibition des vendettas et des guerres in-
ternes - ce qui est fort exceptionnel en Amazonie.
Au quotidien, même les simples attitudes de conflit
ouvert sont très nettement réprouvées. Le modèle
fondamental reste la formule que l’on se répète lors
d’une première rencontre entre deux groupes, bien
au-delà de l’Ucayali : “Nous sommes Ashâninka,
et les Ashâninka ne se tuent pas entre eux”.6
De tels impératifs éthiques mettent souvent le
chaman en position assez fausse, lorsqu’il endosse
son rôle de guérisseur. Pour soigner, il lui faut de-
viner et désigner la cause du mal - car les conflits
existent, bien sûr, et les maladies peuvent être dues
à l’influence d’un esprit de la forêt, mais plus sou-
vent encore, elles sont perçues comme le résultat
de l’agression magique d’un voisin ou d’un parent.
Tout l’art du chaman devient alors de donner une
certaine existence sociale aux soupçons, sans quoi
il n’y a pas de cure possible, mais sans jamais ac-
cuser explicitement personne ; et il devra ensuite
s’efforcer de dénouer le problème à coups de dé-
marches discrètes.7
C’est assurément un exercice difficile. Mais
dans la nouvelle configuration qui peu à peu s’est
mise en place, tout semble lui offrir l’occasion
d’un contrepoint parfait à l’inadmissible reconnais-
sance des divisions, des conflits et des agressions
internes : la substance même de l’ayahuasca, dont
les effets très différents de ceux du tabac permettent
une véritable participation collective ; la convoca-
tion des esprits végétaux ou animaux, uniformé-
6 Cf. Renard-Casevitz (1993 : 33). Bien entendu, il existe des
moments de la vie sociale qui permettent d’évacuer les
tensions sous une forme acceptable. Ce sont essentiellement
les fêtes de boisson. On y voit souvent des hommes s’y
faire face : le ton peut monter, avec des paroles de défi, de
grands gestes du bras, apparemment fort menaçants. Mais on
s’aperçoit vite que la distance maintenue d’un bout à l’autre
entre les deux hommes est exactement celle qui les empêche
de réellement se toucher.
7 Une autre issue est possible, et bien attestée chez les Campa :
la répression du sorcier, qui est souvent un enfant (Renard-
Casevitz 1991 : 207, ou Rojas Zolezzi 1994 : 240). J’ai moi-
même recueilli quelques allusions à ces pratiques dans le
Gran Pajonal. Mais sauf peut-être en un cas (fort douteux),
je n’en ai par contre rencontré aucune trace sur les Rios
Yurua et Envira - où la vie semble (en général) nettement
plus sereine que dans d’autres régions, parmi lesquelles le
Gran Pajonal.
ment caractérisés par leur bienveillance à l’égard
des hommes ; et sur le Yurua l’apparition finale de
Pâwa, sous son aspect de divinité centrale et pater-
nelle, prête à revenir malgré tout parmi les hommes,
le temps d’une séance d’hallucinations partagées
par tous.
Naïvement, on pourrait se dire que l’on est arrivé
ainsi à un véritable modèle, qui dessinerait avec
beaucoup de netteté l’avenir du chamanisme ashé-
ninka. La construction syncrétique actuelle serait
encore en cours, mais finalement déjà assez stable,
ou en tout cas clairement orientée vers un horizon
fort prévisible : un officiant qui fait l’unanimité au-
tour de lui, à la fois parce que tous sont invités à
participer aux cérémonies qu’il dirige, et parce que
n’y sont convoqués que des esprits bienfaisants, de
plus en plus nettement organisés autour de la ve-
nue d’une divinité centrale et transcendante, Pâwa,
“notre Père à tous”, qui bien entendu se caractérise
lui aussi par sa bonté fondamentale à l’égard des
hommes - au fond, une perspective qui n’est pas
tellement différente de celle de G. Weiss et de son
“chaînon manquant” entre prêtrise et chamanisme.
Ce serait pourtant faire bon marché de tout ce qui
contredit cette apparente cohérence, à l’atmosphère
si unanimiste et si lénifiante.
Il y a tout d’abord, dans les villages et chez les
individus les plus en contact avec le monde exté-
rieur, l’apparition ponctuelle de nouvelles formes
de chamanisme, qui pourraient apparaître à pre-
mière vue comme un refus de s’engager dans les
“cérémonies collectives” de Vayahuasca, dont on
a vu qu’elles étaient sans doute de tradition assez
récente. Ces “nouveaux chamanes” veulent être,
avant tout, des guérisseurs, et leurs chants, direc-
tement “enseignés par les esprits de Y ayahuasca',
ne sont pas partagés par toute la communauté, mais
restent leur acquis et leur secret personnels. Mais
ne nous y trompons pas, il ne s’agit pas d’un reflux
vers une situation ancienne, d’avant Y ayahuasca-
En fait, le modèle (y compris les “plantes maîtres-
ses” qui leur servent d’alliés, et la façon dont ils
les utilisent) est plutôt celui d’un peuple voisin,
les Shipibo, qui négocient beaucoup mieux que les
Ashéninka leurs relations avec la société mestiza.
Il s’agit à l’heure actuelle de cas assez isolés, qui
sont très loin de jouir du prestige accordé aux cha-
manes désormais plus “classiques”, dont je viens
de décrire les cérémonies collectives. Mais il ne
faudrait pas préjuger trop vite du futur. Dans les
mêmes villages, chez les non-chamanes les plus
liés au monde urbain, on constate une évolution
exactement parallèle - et beaucoup plus massive -
dans l’usage quotidien des plantes médicinales. Sur
un registre plus profane, eux aussi adoptent à lu
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
553
fois les plantes favorites des Shipibo et leurs modes
d’emploi particuliers, qui sont assez différents de
ceux des Ashéninka. Et de tels glissements entre
les diverses traditions ethniques n’ont rien d’excep-
tionnel dans la région.8
Il y a ensuite, chez les chamanes les plus res-
pectés, l’extraordinaire inventivité qui renouvelle
et fait varier sans cesse la cohorte des esprits vi-
siteurs lors des séances collectives d'ayahuasca. A
côté d’une série d’espèces assez stables, que l’on
retrouve apparemment dans presque toutes les ré-
gions, les esprits d’espèces animales et végétales
nouvelles, ou même de produits industriels comme
le camphre, font régulièrement leur apparition à un
niveau plus local. Je l’ai dit, c’est une des formes
de “l’inventivité traditionnelle” des chamanes, et on
pourrait la considérer comme un détail un peu pitto-
resque, sauf à se dire que le réservoir où sont puisés
ces esprits visiteurs nouveaux plonge ses racines
dans une conception très particulière de ce que sont
les plantes, les animaux et les hommes - comme on
le verra dans la suite.
Il y a enfin - et surtout - la profonde ambiguïté
de certains de ces esprits alliés du chaman. J’avoue
que je ne me reconnais guère dans la présentation
que fait G. Weiss de ses données des Rios Tambo,
Ené et Perené, où les animaux se répartissent en
deux “camps”, le bon et le mauvais (1975 : 257).9
Car lorsqu’il s’agit d’une cure et que les choses
se corsent, le chaman, seul cette fois, peut es-
sayer d’appeler à son aide le vautour-pape amém-
Pori (Sarcoramphus papa), ou encore le jaguar :
des alliés aussi, mais nettement plus inquiétants.
Le jaguar, par exemple, est un animal très marqué
culturellement, comme partout en Amazonie. Mais
son image est fort ambivalente. En principe, c’est
un ennemi, bien sûr, mais il ne fait pas l’objet d’un
rejet absolu, loin de là : c’est aussi une force, assu-
rément fort dangereuse, que l’on cherche souvent
8 Nous y avons découvert un véritable système interethnique
d’emprunts ethnobotaniques, qui offrent la particularité d’al-
ler toujours dans le même sens ; on emprunte systémati-
quement matériaux et usages aux voisins directs qui sont
plus proches que soi-même de la société mestiza. Mais ces
voisins sont indigènes, et ce qu’on leur emprunte sont des
éléments presque emblématiques de “l’indianité” : la bière
de manioc, des cypéracées magiques, des techniques de cure
et de divination ... (Lenaerts 2004 : 227).
9 Peut-être s’agit-il en partie d’un effet du mode de présen-
tation choisi par l’auteur, d’ailleurs. Il les décrit en deux
chapitres opposés, “Denizens of the Universe: the Gods and
Good Spirits” (1975 :257), et “Denizens of the Universe:
Démons and Witches” (1975 :283), ce qui accentue l’im-
pression d’une bipartition tranchée et essentialiste, alors que
certains détails du texte suggèrent des situations bien plus
nuancées ou plus ambivalentes.
ônthr
à s’allier ou à s’approprier - tout particulièrement
les chamanes, et surtout les meilleurs d’entre eux.
Là encore, cela renvoie à la conception qu’ont les
Ashéninka des êtres différents - l’animal, l’autre,
l’ennemi - à laquelle il est temps de passer à pré-
sent.
Le substrat ontologique
Les conceptions ontologiques des Ashéninka sont
typiquement amazoniennes, et s’avèrent radicale-
ment différentes des nôtres. En elles, rien ne rap-
pelle l’idée d’un homme créé à l’image de la di-
vinité, et placé face à une nature qu’il s’efforce de
dominer et de maîtriser grâce à l’intelligence qui le
distingue de tous les (autres) animaux.
Nous-mêmes, dans notre ontologie naturaliste
moderne, considérons que nos points communs
avec les autres espèces animales relèvent avant tout
de la matérialité du corps (nous partageons les
mêmes cellules vivantes, la même évolution dar-
winienne, la même ontogénèse). Les Ashéninka,
quant à eux, adoptent une position exactement in-
verse, caractéristique d’une ontologie animique (au
sens de R Descola) : pour eux, ce que toutes les
espèces ont en commun, qu’il s’agisse des hommes,
des animaux, ou même des plantes, ou des êtres
“surnaturels”, c’est plutôt leur perception de soi et
leur sociabilité, qui chez toutes ressemblent pour
l’essentiel à celles des humains.
Ceci n’a cependant rien à voir avec notre goût
de plus en plus marqué pour les comparaisons
entre comportements humains et comportements
animaux, et leur explication en termes de survi-
vances mentales, enracinées dans des étapes anté-
rieures de notre évolution. Dans la mode actuelle
des références aux données de l’éthologie animale
se côtoient souvent des hypothèses prudentes et
bien étayées, et des affirmations beaucoup plus
douteuses. Mais toutes s’appuient sur le même pré-
supposé fondamental, celui d’une continuité phy-
sique dans l’évolution des espèces animales et hu-
maines, qui sert de support permanent aux survi-
vances archaïques.
Pour les Ashéninka, le corps particulier qui ca-
ractérise chaque espèce est au contraire le lieu de
la coupure, de la discontinuité. Comme à une le-
çon de démonstration de ce que E. Viveiros de
Castro a nommé le “perspectivisme amérindien”
(1996, 1998), ils vous expliquent, par exemple, que
les jaguars voient les autres jaguars comme des
hommes et qu’ils se comportent entre eux comme
des hommes, avec leurs relations sociales, leurs
liens de parenté, leurs parures spécifiques ; par
■opos 101.2006
554
Marc Lenaerts
contre, les jaguars voient l’être humain, qui est à
l’occasion leur gibier, sous l’apparence d’un pécari
(le sanglier amazonien). Quant au pécari, il voit
lui aussi les autres pécaris comme des hommes, sa
propre bande errante étant à ses yeux son groupe
tribal, et la bauge où il se vautre son village ; mais
il voit l’homme, son prédateur, sous les traits d’un
jaguar.
Ce qui “formate” ainsi le regard des jaguars, des
hommes ou des pécaris sur les autres espèces (et
qui les empêche du même coup d’adopter le regard
propre à ces autres espèces), ce sont leurs caracté-
ristiques corporelles (qu’ils voient eux-mêmes sous
forme de vêtements ou de parures) : c’est donc le
corps qui détermine le regard et l’intentionnalité
spécifique de chacun sur tous les autres, tout en
attribuant à chacun sa place dans la grande chaîne
des prédateurs et des gibiers.
Comme le souligne volontiers E. Viveiros de
Castro, il ne s’agit donc pas vraiment d’un re-
lativisme, puisque les divers points de vue ne
s’échangent pas, mais demeurent au contraire in-
conciliables. Sans aucun doute, la multiplicité de
tels regards nous renvoie à un monde extraordinai-
rement pluriel : outre les jaguars et les pécaris, qui
en sont dans toute l’Amazonie les exemples les plus
classiques, toutes les autres espèces animales, mais
aussi les espèces végétales ou les “démons surna-
turels” peuvent à l’occasion faire l’objet du même
genre de discours - “ils se voient entre eux comme
des hommes, ils portent telle ou telle parure”. Mais
pour accéder à chacun de ces autres regards, ce qui
ne saurait jamais se faire en bloc et une fois pour
toutes, la condition incontournable est de “sortir de
son propre corps” - on reconnaît là un thème cen-
tral des cultures chamaniques. En fait, il faut pour
cela accepter de passer par une “animalisation” ou
une “végétalisation” passagère (et dangereuse !) de
son regard d’homme, qui doit pour y arriver prendre
le risque de cesser d’être humain.
Les techniques qui le permettent sont bien
connues : le rêve (où “l’âme quitte le corps”), les
voyages chamaniques (avec l’aide d’esprits alliés
qu’il faut conquérir un à un), les prises d’halluci-
nogènes (où les espèces animales et végétales ap-
paraissent l’une après l’autre sous leur vêture hu-
maine). Ce n’est jamais que pour un moment assez
bref, et en courant toujours le risque de rester “pris”
dans le regard de l’autre, sans pouvoir regagner son
propre corps.
Tout cela, c’est ce que disent explicitement nos
interlocuteurs indigènes, assorti des interprétations
les plus immédiates que l’on peut clairement en ti-
rer. Mais à ce stade se pose évidemment la question
du statut et de la valeur opératoire de tels discours -
qui, sous des avatars un peu divers, sont communs
à toute l’Amazonie indigène, rappelons-le au pas-
sage. S’agit-il de discours du même ordre que ceux
qui égrenaient, par exemple, les caractérisations
multiples et changeantes de Pâwa - tantôt héros
séparateur, tantôt dieu solaire, tantôt dieu punisseur
ou sauveur ? Ou s’agit-il d’autre chose ?
D’emblée, on constate un fait troublant : alors
que le rôle et les caractéristiques de Pâwa sem-
blaient se soumettre assez facilement à tout un jeu
d’échanges syncrétiques avec les traditions cultu-
relles voisines (andines ou chrétiennes), les concep-
tions des Ashéninka sur la nature des êtres et de
l’altérité paraissent au contraire demeurer absolu-
ment imperméables à toutes les influences exté-
rieures, depuis les missionnaires jusqu’à l’école,
qui pourtant la contredisent et la combattent sys-
tématiquement, tout en n’ayant souvent qu’une
conscience minime (voire nulle) de ses détails et
de ses enjeux.
Je ne saurais dire ce qui se passe exactement
dans les autres cultures amazoniennes, mais je
peux affirmer avec certitude que chez les Ashé-
ninka, l’ontologie animique forme une sorte de bloc
culturel extraordinairement résistant. Je ne crois
pourtant pas que ce soit vraiment une question de
contenu, de matériaux : rien ne nous autorise à po-
ser a priori que l’incompatibilité entre notre onto-
logie et la leur, qui est bien réelle sur les questions
de fond, rende impossible la moindre rencontre
ponctuelle entre certains de leurs éléments. Après
tout, même si cela implique ensuite de sérieuses
contradictions et des réajustements en série, on a vu
que de telles tensions constituent sans doute un des
facteurs essentiels des dynamiques syncrétiques.10
A mon avis, le point décisif se situerait plutôt sur
un tout autre plan : dans la façon dont le regard en
arrive à être modelé en profondeur par la pratique
d’une ontologie particulière - la nôtre tout autant
que celle des Ashéninka, d’ailleurs.
10 D’ailleurs, en guise de contre-exemple, on pourrait citer en
sens inverse le “tourisme de Vayahuasca”. Comme d’autres
villes de la région, Pucallpa reçoit de plus en plus la visite
de jeunes Péruviens ou étrangers (parmi lesquels beaucoup
d’Européens), venus se faire “initier” à Vayahuasca sous la
conduite de chamanes plus ou moins sérieux, Shipibo pour
la plupart. Et là, le bricolage transculturel semble se faire
sans trop de difficultés, au prix des quelques malentendus
et réajustements typiques des dynamiques syncrétiques :
réinterprétation de l’apparition des “esprits de Vayahuasca
selon notre propre ontologie naturaliste (ils y deviennent
des “esprits visiteurs”, émanations immatérielles des plantes
ou des animaux concernés), réinterprétation des séances de
cure dans une perspective psychologisante et/ou hédoniste,
réinterprétation des visions en termes de “découverte” de sot
ou d’une autre réalité, plus “authentique”, etc. Mais je sots
là de mon sujet.
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
555
Leur ontologie animique n’est pas du tout un
discours détaché de la pratique, sans conséquence
majeure en dehors du domaine réservé des discours
et des croyances. Comme j’ai essayé de le montrer
en détail ailleurs, les pratiques de classification
des plantes et animaux chez les Ashéninka restent
incompréhensibles si on ne les met pas en rapport
avec leurs conceptions ontologiques.
Bien plus : des habitudes classificatoires, aussi
déroutantes soient-elles, peuvent à la rigueur être
considérées comme un simple modèle culturel im-
posé aux enfants de manière assez superficielle,
mais les effets pratiques du choix ontologique vont
sans doute bien au-delà. Tout semble démontrer
qu’il affecte aussi très directement des processus
perceptifs et cognitifs parmi les plus élémentaires et
les plus automatisés de l’esprit humain, et leur fait
subir un remodelage culturel profond et extrême-
ment stable, sans doute par des processus d’inhibi-
tion répétée au cours de la petite enfance (Lenaerts
2004:151-173).
Il est toujours hasardeux de prétendre pénétrer
l’esprit de l’autre, mais pour essayer de s’en faire
une idée plus concrète, on peut, malgré tout, tenter
d’imaginer ce que perçoit un Ashéninka qui entre
en forêt, et le comparer à notre propre regard. Là où
nous-mêmes apercevons tout simplement une série
d’objets végétaux (les arbres, les arbustes), parmi
lesquels se cachent sans doute les corps fuyants de
quelques animaux, le chasseur ashéninka pénètre
en revanche dans un monde littéralement surpeu-
plé. Il sait qu’il est complètement entouré non pas
d'objets végétaux ou animaux, mais d’une multi-
tude de personnes aux traits humains, que pour-
tant lui-même est incapable de voir, à cause des
contraintes de son propre œil humain. Mais tous
ces êtres le regardent et veulent certaines choses,
et surtout lui veulent certaines choses : le jaguar
et le serpent veulent l’attaquer, le pécari et le tapir
veulent le fuir, telle ou telle plante est pleine de
sa force vénéneuse ou médicinale, telle autre est
gonflée de son pouvoir hallucinogène, telle autre
encore d’une énergie fraternelle et nourricière etc.
Ht c’est au chasseur à apprendre comment traiter
avec ces volontés innombrables.
Autrement dit, et c’est à prendre ici au pied
de la lettre, les Ashéninka ne voient pas du tout
comme nous les plantes et animaux qu’ils cô-
toient quotidiennement. Alors que nous-mêmes,
nous nous focalisons d’abord sur le corps maté-
riel (os et muscles, matières végétales et substances
chimiquement actives), eux perçoivent d’abord ce
fiüe l’on pourrait appeler un “corps-volonté” : un
corps qui est avant tout un condensé d’énergie
et d’intentionnalité spécifiques - et les cas sont
légion où, dans la perception la plus immédiate,
des ressemblances physiques pourtant fort évi-
dentes passent momentanément tout à fait inaper-
çues, parce qu’elles demeurent visiblement très se-
condaires face aux ressemblances ou aux dissem-
blances qui relèvent des intentionnalités propres à
chaque espèce.
Bricolage, invention et principe de coupure
Un tel ancrage des options ontologiques dans les
couches cognitives les plus élémentaires leur donne
évidemment une très grande stabilité - d’autant
plus grande peut-être qu’en général les divergences
de fond passent inaperçues, et ne se montrent que
dans leurs conséquences ultimes, sous forme de
discours dont la rationalité propre reste hors de
portée : telle ou telle façon déroutante de clas-
ser les êtres vivants, telle ou telle “parenté sym-
bolique” entre les hommes, les plantes et les ani-
maux. Quelle prise cela pourrait-il bien offrir à la
critique “rationnelle” d’un missionnaire ou d’un
maître d’école ?
Le résultat cependant n’est en rien une situation
figée. Le cadre animique en tant que tel reste ouvert
aux développements nouveaux, et ceux-ci sont sans
doute beaucoup plus fréquents que ne pourraient
le laisser croire les images encore trop souvent
associées à l’idée d’une “tradition culturelle”.
J’ai déjà cité plus haut l’apparition du camphre,
évidemment assez récente, dans la panoplie des es-
prits alliés d’un chaman ashéninka : des exemples
similaires se rencontrent à foison dans toute l’Ama-
zonie. Mais d’autres m’ont en réalité surpris davan-
tage, tout simplement parce que je n’en ai décou-
vert la particularité qu’après coup. Dans l’Ucayali
et au Brésil, un des animaux culturellement les plus
marqués était, par exemple, le Shenontse, le singe
hurleur (Alouatta seniculus) : c’est l’une des figures
du colon blanc ou métis, et à ce titre il fait l’objet de
tout un cycle mythique (Lenaerts 2004 : 135, 250).
Mais en relisant la bibliographie, je me suis aperçu
ensuite que partout ailleurs, chez les Ashâninka, les
Matsiguenga et les autres sous-groupes Ashéninka,
il n’est mentionné que comme une espèce sans au-
cun trait particulier.
Et dans le domaine végétal, on pourrait en dire
autant d’un arbre comme le thonénto (Cavanillesia
spp., Bombacaceae). Au Brésil et sur le Rio Yu-
rua, c’est un autre esprit allié des chamanes, qui
se présente sous l’aspect, lui aussi assez récent,
bien entendu, d’un médecin à l’européenne, portant
blouse blanche, lunettes et stéthoscope. Ailleurs,
pourtant, il ne fait l’objet que d’un seul récit my-
Anthropos 101.2006
556
Marc Lenaerts
thique, sans le moindre rapport avec ce rôle thé-
rapeutique : le thonénto y est une femme, enceinte,
qui offre en mariage la fille qu’elle porte au premier
des hommes (Anderson 1985 : 36).11
Le nouveau rôle médical de l’arbre thonénto est
donc à la fois très local et assez récent. Sous cette
nouvelle forme, il a pourtant déjà réinvesti l’univers
mythico-religieux : dans un bref commentaire sur
le mythe de la fuite de Pàwa au ciel (c’est-à-dire
le moment où se séparent les regards des hommes,
des plantes et des animaux, puisqu’à présent nous
pouvons le formuler ainsi), le chaman Shoéshi me
précisera que thonénto lui aussi a pris son aspect
actuel à cette occasion - il était si lourd et si massif
qu’en voulant suivre Pàwa avec toute sa famille, il
est tombé de l’échelle et en est resté la nuque toute
raide.
La boucle est ainsi bouclée. L’inventivité locale
fondée sur une pratique vivace de l’ontologie ani-
mique nous a finalement ramenés à la figure divine
de Pàwa, sous sa forme de héros séparateur des
premiers temps, dont les mythes sont comme la
garantie symbolique du regard des Ashéninka sur
les autres êtres vivants.
A ce stade, une distinction commence cependant
à s’imposer. On l’a vu au début de cet article, les
cycles mythiques et les commentaires qui tournent
autour de Pàwa peuvent se montrer très malléables
et très ouverts aux échanges syncrétiques. Mais
parmi les avatars multiples et souvent contradic-
toires du personnage, le rôle qu’on lui attribue dans
la séparation primordiale des hommes, des plantes
et des animaux garde pourtant un statut tout à fait
particulier.
Ce mythe sans cesse repris et actualisé est le ré-
cit d’une genèse : la fuite de Pàwa au ciel raconte en
fait la naissance du “perspectivisme amérindien”,
qui est aussi la véritable naissance de l’humanité. Et
les rapports qu’elle peut entretenir avec nos propres
récits de la Genèse biblique me semblent relever du
“principe de coupure” cher à Roger Bastide, et se
prêter fort mal à la moindre possibilité de “bricola-
ge” syncrétique.
Je sais bien que sur base des descriptions des
Tzotzil par G. Guiteras-Holmes et des Guarani par
Egon Schaden (les études à leur sujet ont évidem-
ment beaucoup progressé depuis), Roger Bastide
lui-même croit entrevoir “des lois de transforma-
tions ... entre les séquences, par exemple des ‘jour-
nées’ de la création dans la Genèse et celles des
Il II s’agit d’un recueil du SIL (Summer Institute of Linguis-
tics), “Cuentos folklóricos de los Ashéninka” (tome II), -
ashéninka aussi, donc, mais malheureusement sans la moin-
dre mention du lieu ni même de la région d’origine.
créations successives du monde des Indiens”. Mais
c’est pour reconnaître aussitôt qu’il “y a opposition
entre les deux récits”, qu’en fait c’est “l’histoire
du déluge et de la recréation de l’humanité à partir
de Noé [qui] permet de jeter les ponts et d’établir
des correspondances”, et que les divers panthéons
finissent par coexister dans une “stratification” hié-
rarchisée (1970:240).
Chez les Ashéninka, les très rares évocations
de la Genèse biblique coexistent en effet avec les
mythes des temps premiers, mais c’est au sens
le plus strict : elles les côtoient sans jamais s’y
mêler ni s’y accrocher d’aucune manière. On dirait
plutôt qu’elles flottent, quelque part en deçà ou
au-delà du “véritable” univers mythique. Lorsqu’on
les mentionne, la création biblique ou l’épisode
d’Adam et Ève chassés du Paradis ne sont d’ailleurs
pas attribué à Pàwa, mais à “Dios” ou à “Jesu
Cristo”, ce qui est bien révélateur. Mais comment
s’en étonner vraiment? Chrétienne ou Ashéninka,
les deux genèses sont presque antithétiques, comme
le sont les deux ontologies qu’elles expriment.
Avant que Pàwa ne monte au ciel, toutes les
espèces étaient encore des hommes. La grande rup-
ture se fait par le corps : lorsque l’échelle se brise,
le hasard des chutes fait que chacun se métamor-
phose et reçoit ainsi son aspect physique définitif.
Dorénavant, chacun restera prisonnier du point de
vue de son corps et de son œil spécifiques, et ne
pourra plus regarder les autres que sous la forme
d’une espèce différente, végétale ou animale, sans
plus apercevoir leur humanité première.
La Genèse biblique, quant à elle, raconte un
processus presque exactement inverse. Il y a bien
rupture définitive, là aussi, mais cette fois c’est
avec l’animalité première qu’il s’agit de rompre,
et cela se fait non par le corps mais par l’esprit.
C’est pour avoir tâté du fruit de la connaissance
qu’Adam et Eve doivent quitter le jardin où ils
vivaient en parfaite connivence avec les animaux,
et cette brutale plongée dans la condition humaine
(en tant qu’espèce radicalement séparée des autres)
se joue tout entière sous le signe de la conscience
de soi : tout à coup ils se voient (nus), ils prennent
conscience de leur mort future, conscience de la
douleur, et la simple activité devient obligation
d’un travail mené à la sueur de son front.
Ontologie naturaliste d’un côté, et ontologie
animique de l’autre, d’autant plus vivace qu’elle
est parfaitement incompatible avec la précédente,
et qu’elle est sans cesse vécue et pratiquée dans
les perceptions les plus banales et les plus quoti-
diennes. Les Ashéninka n’ont pas adopté l’habi-
tuelle réinterprétation du thème du Paradis perdu
en termes de faute individuelle ou collective, qui
Anthropos 101.2006
“Le jour où Pàwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la terre ..
557
aurait permis de l’intégrer dans une cosmologie
de vaincus (Bastide 1970:241) : ils gardent une
très grande fierté d’eux-mêmes, et l’irruption des
Blancs et de leur technologie continue à leur ap-
paraître comme une usurpation inadmissible. Du
coup, les deux genèses s’ignorent mutuellement, ou
ne s’accordent l’une à l’autre qu’un statut tout à fait
dévalorisé, vide de tout contenu effectif : les protes-
tants et leurs mentors missionnaires saucissonnent
le mythe de la grande métamorphose des animaux
en une kyrielle de “contes folkloriques” pour les
enfants (Anderson 1985), tandis que pour tout le
reste des Ashéninka, le Paradis perdu reste une his-
toire que l’on ne raconte qu’exceptionnellement, et
sans le moindre lien avec le reste de la “véritable”
mythologie.
Pour conclure, et en simplifiant un peu pour la
commodité, on peut donc distinguer trois pans fon-
damentaux dans le domaine religieux ashéninka (je
laisserai cette fois de côté les rares convertis protes-
tants, qui restent des cas tout à fait périphériques) :
les diverses faces de la figure divine de Pâwa, le
chamanisme, et l’ontologie animique sous-jacente
(avec les mythes qui lui sont le plus directement
liés). Tous trois sont travaillés par le changement,
mais sur des modes et des rythmes assez distincts.
La figure divine de Pâwa, qui combine les traits
du dieu solaire, du héros séparateur des premiers
temps et du dieu punisseur et salvateur, porte de
toute évidence les traces d’un syncrétisme déjà
fort ancien, et au rythme sans doute assez lent. Le
rythme de transformation du chamanisme, qui est
lui aussi travaillé par d’évidentes dynamiques syn-
crétiques, semble en revanche beaucoup plus rapide
- peut-être est-ce parce que les chamanes ont pour
mission spécifique de résoudre les problèmes les
plus quotidiens et les plus urgents de l’altérité, qui
se font de plus en plus pressants dans une Ama-
zonie en proie à une croissante pression démogra-
phique.
Dans les deux cas, ce syncrétisme semble bien
s’opérer sur le mode du “bricolage”, au sens de
Lévi-Strauss : les matériaux conservent en eux des
Laces de leur ancien contexte, et leur articulation
Par-delà les divergences entre les diverses cultures-
sources ouvre la possibilité de résoudre certaines
contradictions, mais du même coup en suscite aussi
de nouvelles.
Par contre, le troisième pan, qui relève de l’on-
tologie animique, doit visiblement être traité à part.
Tout d’abord, il paraît beaucoup plus imperméable
fitie les deux précédents aux apports extérieurs, ce
fiui n’exclut en rien une remarquable inventivité
dans son cadre propre. Ensuite, s’il ne relève peut-
être pas du domaine du religieux au sens le plus
strict, on ne pouvait guère l’écarter de l’analyse :
comment ne pas voir qu’il reste aussi la matrice où
les multiples figures de Pâwa et les pratiques cha-
maniques les plus récentes continuent à s’enraciner
et à puiser, y compris pour les matériaux destinés à
de nouvelles combinaisons ?
Le chamanisme a beau ne cesser de changer, on
voit mal comment le renouvellement de ses formes
et de ses esprits alliés pourraient se détacher de
sa source, qui reste l’approche perspectiviste. Et
Pâwa a beau être devenu aussi une divinité solaire
centrale et un dieu punisseur et salvateur, il restera
sans doute encore longtemps le héros mythique qui
a opéré la distinction entre les espèces, et le garant
symbolique du regard actuel des Ashéninka sur le
monde qui les entoure. Le bricolage syncrétique
ashéninka a encore sûrement de beaux jours de-
vant lui.
Références citées
Anderson, Ronald J. (comp.)
1985 Cuentos folklóricos de los Ashéninca. Tomo IL Yarina-
cocha : Instituto Lingüístico de Verano.
Bastide, Roger
1970 Le prochain et le lointain. Paris : Éditions Cujas.
Brown, Michael F., and Eduardo Fernández
1991 War of Shadows. The Struggle for Utopia in the Peruvian
Amazon. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Gow, Peter
1994 River People. Shamanism and History in Western Ama-
zonia. In: N. Thomas and C. Humphrey (eds.), Shaman-
ism, History, and the State; pp. 90-113. Ann Arbor: The
University of Michigan Press.
Kitaka Mendes, Margarete
1996 O clima, o tempo e os calendários, documentos ashé-
ninka. Campiñas : Unicamp. [dactyl]
Lenaerts, Marc
2002 Nos sœurs Manioc et l’étranger Jaguar. Diversité et
changement des savoirs sur les Êtres de la Nature chez
les Ashéninka “de l’Ucayali” (Amazonie péruvienne et
brésilienne). Bruxelles : Université Libre de Bruxelles.
[Thèse de doctorat]
2004 Anthropologie des Indiens Ashéninka d’Amazonie. Nos
sœurs Manioc et l’étranger Jaguar. Paris : L’Harmattan.
Mary, André
2000 Le bricolage africain des héros chrétiens. Paris : Éditions
du Cerf.
Renard-Casevitz, France-Marie
1991 Le banquet masqué. Une mythologie de l’étranger chez
les Indiens Matsiguenga. Paris : Lierre & Coudrier Édi-
teur.
1993 Guerriers du sel, sauniers de la paix. L’Homme 126-
128:25-43.
ônthropos 101.2006
558
Marc Lenaerts
Renard-Casevitz, R-M., Th. Saignes et A. C. Taylor-Descola
1986 LTnca, l’Espagnol et les Sauvages. Rapports entre les
sociétés amazoniennes et andines du XVe au XVIIe
siècle. Paris : Éditions Recherche sur les Civilisations.
Rojas Zolezzi, Enrique
1994 Los Ashaninka, un pueblo tras el bosque. Contribución
a la etnología de los Campa de la Selva Central peruana.
Lima ; Pontificia Universidad Católica del Peni.
Santos Granero, Fernando
1991 The Power of Love. The Moral Use of Knowledge
amongst the Amuesha of Central Perú. London: The
Athlone Press. (London School of Economies, Mono-
graphs on Social Anthropology, 62)
1992 La sublevación mesiánica y anticolonial de Juan Santos
Atahuallpa, 1742-1752. In : F. Santos Granero, Etno-
historia de la alta Amazonia. Del siglo XV al XVIII ;
pp. 237-258. Quito ; Editorial Abya Yala/CEDIME/
MLAL.
Veber, Hanne
2003 Asháninka Messianism. The Production of a “Black
Hole” in Western Amazonian Ethnography. Current An-
thropology 44: 183-211.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo
1996 Os pronomes cosmológicos e o perspectivismo amerin-
dio. Mana 2/2 : 115-144.
1998 Cosmological Deixis and Amerindian Perspectivism.
The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 4 :
469-488.
Weiss, Gerald
1973 Shamanism and Priesthood in the Light of the Campa
Ayahuasca Ceremony. In; M. J. Harner (ed.), Hallucino-
gens and Shamanism; pp. 40-47. London; Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
1975 Campa Cosmology. The World of a Forest Tribe in South
America. New York: The American Museum of Natural
History. (Anthropological Papers of the American Mu-
seum of Natural History, 52/5)
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
Balkan Ghosts Revisited
Racism - Serbian Style
Aleksandar Boskovic
Introduction: Where to Find “Race” in the “Nation”
The issues of race and ethnicity are frequently in-
terconnected in the former communist countries of
Europe, and countries of the former Yugoslavia are
no exception. In this article, I focus on the issues of
racism and xenophobia in Serbia, present through-
out its history and especially in the aftermath of the
“Balkan wars” between 1991 and 1999, some of
which have become surprisingly visible in recent
years.
Of course, the problem of racism has been
present in anthropology for a very long time, from
the early work of Franz Boas, who denounced
evolutionary models in unambiguous terms, in the
early twentieth century, to his students like Bene-
dict (1942), who provided a very good overview of
what racism meant in the late 1930s. More recently,
Zack (2001) pointed to important inconsistencies
in the “Statement on Race” of the world’s largest
professional anthropological association, the AAA.
One of the veterans of writing about racism, Paul
Gilroy (1998), a few years ago contributed to an
^portant discussion of the uneasy relationship be-
tween “race” and “nation” - a topic also covered by
Loveman (1999), Cowlishaw (2000), and Ballinger
(2004) in more specific contexts. Pamela Ballinger
ln particular noted the use of racist epithets and
terminology when dealing with what one would
formally regard as “ethnic” differences (2004: 36),
as well as that the use of these terms in the ar-
eas around the Mediterranean and the former Yu-
goslavia have escaped the attention of anthropolo-
gists (I could add; social scientists as well) dealing
^ith issues of race and racism.
In the Serbian (and former Yugoslav) context,
sociologist Bozidar Jaksic organised several con-
ferences related to these issues in the late 1990s,
and one of them specifically dealt with racism
and xenophobia, with a number of contributions
dealing with the events and incidents in Serbia
(see the multilingual volume from this conference,
Jaksic 1998). Therefore, I believe that using the
term “racism” to deal with issues of extreme dis-
crimination in the present context is justified, de-
spite some possible objections by the “purists.” In
relatively recent anthropological literature, Erik-
sen (2002: 5-7) provides some important general
observations about the difficulties of distinguish-
ing between “ethnicity,” “race,” and “nation.” For
the possible junctures and divergences between the
French ethnie and “race,” see de Heusch (2000).
The Myth of the Shared Humanity
One of the important issues that remain open is the
(lack of) distinction between “race” and “racism”
- so that there are, for example, numerous “State-
ments on Race,” but no “Statements on Racism.”
Another one is related to what actually is meant
by “race” - is it a concept, a heuristic device, or
a methodological tool? (I should note that similar
confusion reigns in the anthropological studies of
ethnicity and nationalism.) Is it something that can-
not be studied, something that should be studied, or
something that we must avoid at all cost?
For the purposes of this discussion, I will limit
myself to the materials from Serbia. In doing so,
I take as an important point of reference Kuzma-
nic’s (2002) comparative discussion of postsocial-
ism and racism. Kuzmanic emphasized the cul-
tural component, i.e., the fact that after the dra-
matic political changes in Europe in 1989 (the fall
of communism), a particular matrix of thinking
reemerged, something that he called “free-floating,
cultural racism” (Kuzmanic 2002; 21). He contin-
ued:
Anthropos 101.2006
560
Berichte und Kommentare
Racism is free floating in the sense that it is almost
completely impossible to anchor it. It is quite impossible
to make any kind of coherent connection between its ...
appearance and its substance. It is rather something being
“based” ... on an endless and - here is the main point -
a priori open chain of signs, signatures, and significance
(Kuzmanic 2002: 21-22).
These “signs, signatures, and significance” form an
integral part of the self-understanding, and the cru-
cial point for auto-referencing for the ethnic groups
or nations of former Yugoslavia. Since there are no
(nor were) obvious physical differences that could
serve to practically distinguish between “us” and
“them,” specific cultural differences had to be in-
vented instead and positioned in the realm of the
powerful symbols. Therefore, the newly emerged
racism in these countries also forms an important
part of the “nation-building” process. While we
(social scientists, teachers, researchers, public fig-
ures, or just observers) like to use general (and
generalising) notions such as “humanity” both in
our research and in our everyday language, and
to perceive and treat other human beings as “just
humans,” important issues of both the possibility
and the viability of such views remain wide open.1
As recently put by a prominent social scientist, al-
though in a slightly different context:
And yet, if all the United Nations members were satisfied
to be “just humans,” if the UNESCO lingua franca was
enough to define all inhabitants of the planet, peace
would already reign. Since there is no peace, there must
be something wrong with this humanistic definition of
an emancipated human as the only acceptable member of
the Club (Latour 2004: 457).
But let me turn my attention to a specific example
of how racism is constructed (and expressed) in
Serbia. For the purposes of this brief discussion,
I will expound on the notion of “cultural differ-
ences” and the ways in which it is constructed in
order to justify and adhere to the current political
climate in Serbia. Just like in the cases of racism di-
rected against people with different skin pigmenta-
tion, racism in this part of the world can be quite vi-
cious, as it is also predicated on the imagined ideal
of the “clean” living space (Lebensraum), with no
place for people who might threaten the imagined
unity of the nation.
1 Several years ago, a friend and colleague from Slovenia,
Professor Rajko Mursic, kindly sent me his paper dealing
with the destruction of Yugoslavia (Mursic 2000). This line
of thinking is inspired by some of the arguments that he
used, especially when criticising the notion of the “abstract
humanity.”
Serbia: The Fear of the Other
On 22 March 2005 citizens of Belgrade, capital
of Serbia and Montenegro, awoke to find the pub-
lic spaces in the centre of the city covered with
posters denouncing Jews, Helsinki Committee for
Human Rights in Serbia, and the most important
and most influential independent media (radio, tele-
vision, and internet) outlet, B92. The denounce-
ments were done in explicitly racist epithets and
slurs. These were posters and pamphlets put up
during the night, some in the very centre of the
city, so it is slightly unbelievable that no one from
the public or from the police noticed, saw, or heard
anything. Several political parties (including some
from the current Serbian government coalition, like
the SPO and the G17 Plus) condemned these inci-
dents, and police eventually came up with several
young men as suspects.
However, this was only one in the series of se-
rious incidents with potentially racist connotations
that mark the political scene (and colour political
discourse) in Serbia in recent years. On previous
occasions, targets were members of ethnic minori-
ties (especially Hungarians in the province of Vo-
jvodina), Romas,2 * * and Jews.
In perhaps the most serious series of incidents
for years, on 17 March 2004, using as the excuse
the violence in the Province of Kosovo, rioting
mobs of mostly young people burned the mosques
in Belgrade and Nis (Serbia’s second largest city).
In Belgrade, the then chief of police, General Milan
Obradovic, was given direct orders by the Minister
of the Interior Dragan Jocic, not to intervene as
the rioting went on. (The transcript of their tele-
phone conversation was made public and published
in Belgrade in May 2005.) The apparent care of
the minister of the interior for the well-being of
protesters seems a bit out of place, since, when the
mob turned against the US Embassy in Belgrade,
special police forces were dispatched immediately,
and managed to disperse the mob in just five min-
utes.
In Nis, in the south of Serbia, the 18th-century
mosque (also listed as the national monument!)
was burned to the ground, and when the perpe-
trators were finally brought to justice, they were
given light sentences of one month in prison, only
charged for the “disturbing of public peace”! The
2 Unfortunately, the attacks against the Romas are almost
commonplace throughout Serbia - so much, that police
sometimes even refuse to react, almost considering them as
“normal” or “expected.” On the other hand, to my knowl-
edge, no Serbian town has (yet?) tried to erect physical bar-
riers to keep them out, as happened in the Czech Republic.
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
561
fact that they destroyed the national monument and
an important religious symbol for over one quar-
ter of Serbia’s population was never mentioned.
To make matters worse, the perpetrators actually
chanted and sang “Death to Muslims!” at the end of
the trial, in the court, after being sentenced. (This
was recorded and played by the media, especially
the B92.) Their triumph seems understandable; af-
ter all, the prosecutor did not lay the charges that
could bring much stiffer sentencing (for example,
for the instigation of the religious or ethnic hatred,
the minimum prison term is five years), so they felt
like heroes and winners.
While Muslims form a significant part of the
Serbian society (over 20 per cent, with the clear
majority in the Sandzak region, and two representa-
tives in the 250-member National Assembly), there
are very few Jews in Serbia (having been all but
wiped out during the Second World War) - but they
are nevertheless considered as representatives of
the dangerous and potentially threatening “other.”3
Of course, as already noted by Zizek (1990: 52-
54), minorities need not really be physically present
~ the very fact that they can be imagined is threat-
ening enough for the nationalists. The fact that they
are (or at least they can be) associated with cultural
values very different from the mainstream Serbian
society, just adds to this need to objectify them as
threatening.
The Romas and the Problem of an Empty Screen
The incidents against the Romas are the most com-
mon, as members of this ethnic minority are seen
as both culturally and racially different. They are
believed to be inferior in every possible aspect to
the majority population, and most likely to lead
the life of criminals.4 Having said that, it is inter-
3 On 12 December 2005, a Serb American university pro-
fessor, Dusan Bjelic, presented in the National Library of
Serbia in Belgrade an anti-Semitic diatribe denouncing Jews,
Freud, and psychoanalysis (with the collaboration of the
Bolsheviks, of course) for many evils of the twentieth cen-
tury, including the Holocaust, as well as the massacre in
Srebrenica. The Jewish community in Belgrade declined to
react, though, believing that their eventual reaction would
only make this scandalous event more popular.
4 This has actually turned out to be factually wrong, as in
the late 1990s the sociologist Bozidar Jaksic from the Bel-
grade Institute of Philosophy and Social Theory conducted
an extensive study of the Roma population in Serbia and
Montenegro. All the available official police statistics point
to the fact that there is no significant difference in percentage
between Roma and ethnic Serbian population who commit
crimes. However, the media never reports this fact, so the
stereotypes persist.
Anthropos 101.2006
esting that in most of the countries of the former
Yugoslavia (Serbia included - as well as in most
of the countries of the former Eastern Europe) the
exact number of the Roma population is unknown
- although this number is generally believed to be
much higher than expressed in the “official” census
figures.5
On the other hand, anthropologists with field-
work experience in Serbia, like van de Port (1998),
have noted the ambiguous relations between the
ethnic Serbs and the Romas (he calls them Gyp-
sies - a term that in recent years Romas regard as
inappropriate). The Romas seem to epitomise the
music, passion and fun, ability to enjoy life at its
fullest, something that Serbs also see as their own
important characteristics. There can be no real good
night out without them, as demonstrated in songs
celebrating their spirit. The Romas are presented
in the popular discourses as the ones “who really
know how to have fun.” The real good places to
go out for a dinner are usually restaurants “where
the Gypsies are playing,” etc. However, this image
of people who form an important part of the local
culture blurs when it comes to everyday behaviour
of some Serbian citizens.
Recent incidents included protests by the cit-
izens of a part of Belgrade during the summer
of 2005, in order to block the intended relocation
of several hundred Romas from their unhygienic
slums under one of Belgrade’s bridges into their
neighbourhood. Even though that no one was able
to prove that this relocation would hurt the ethni-
cally Serbian (“white”) citizens in any way, even
though several human rights organisations vigor-
ously protested against clearly racially motivated
objections of the citizens, and even though the in-
tended area for relocation was owned by the city,
the city authorities eventually backed down - fear-
ing the possible impact on the future local and state
elections.6 In another and much more ominous in-
cident, almost the whole Roma population of the
5 With the possible exception of the Republic of Macedonia,
where the Romas are well-organized politically, and partic-
ipate in government on different levels. In Serbia, the latest
(as of 2002) “official” number is 108,193 or 1.44 per cent of
the population (Biserko 2005).
6 It is quite telling that in the attempts to negotiate this crisis
with the angry citizens who took to the streets, the Belgrade
city authorities only sent relatively low-ranking politicians
(like Mrs. Radmila Hrustanovic) or people with no political
influence (like the Belgrade’s Chief Architect Djordje Bo-
bic). It is also worth pointing out that the city of Belgrade
is run by the main opposition party, the Democratic Party
(DS) - the party of the late Prime Minister Djindjic, and also
the party that first instituted democratic reforms in Serbia in
2001.
562
town of Sivac in Vojvodina had to flee their homes
after they have been threatened by local (Serbian)
population. This was a reaction to a murder com-
mitted by a young Roma man - but the fact that
he was in police custody did not help, as the ma-
jority still wanted all the Romas out. Some have
claimed that these attacks had the direct support
of the ultra-nationalist SRS party, which heads the
local administration (Anonymous 2005).7
It is important to note that in all of the instances
mentioned above, the perpetrators felt that they
were “speaking” (or acting) for (and in the name
of) the majority of the people of Serbia. The be-
haviour of politicians (especially members of the
ruling DSS party - but note the events even in
the opposition-governed Belgrade!) usually serves
only to strengthen their convictions. The incidents
in which minority members (including women,
NGO representatives, etc.) are attacked and ver-
bally abused are quite common in the Serbian Na-
tional Assembly, and as these sessions are broad-
casted live on the state TV, people throughout Ser-
bia can “enjoy” the obscenities, escapades, and re-
ally bad jokes of their chosen representatives. Sev-
eral important things should be noted here. (For the
role of media in instigating the hatred of and for
the other, see Marie 1995 and Biserko 2005: 419-
530.)
First of all, on the level of symbolic behaviour,
governing politicians frequently say in public that
they support an open, free, and democratic soci-
ety. If they would have tried to say something like
“Muslims [or Hungarians, Albanians, Croats, etc.]
do not deserve to live” during their political cam-
paigns, it is very possible that the public would
have decided that they were not worthy to be voted
into office, and that that would be considered as just
going too far in a political struggle. However, they
did not have to say this: they left it to the members
of the public (usually the young). Actually, they
created and then conveniently left an equivalent of
an empty screen,8 allowing “the public” to “fill in”
the blank space, the unsaid. However, the unsaid is
more than obviously implied in the actual actions
and behaviour of the ruling politicians, and it in-
cludes promoting the extreme nationalist forces of
the Serbian society, especially individuals and par-
ties (like the SPS, or the SRS) who were prominent
7 The SRS representatives have denied these allegations
(Anonymous 2005).
8 The idea of the “empty screen” has been pointed out to me
several years ago, in a slightly different context, when using
the examples discussed by the great French linguist Oswald
Ducrot, by a friend of mine from Belgrade, Mr. Branimir
Stojanovic.
Berichte und Kommentare
in leading the Serbs on the path of wars, destruc-
tion, and self-isolation during the 1990s.
So, while the actual perpetrators of these inci-
dents are usually very young and very few in num-
bers, the total political climate points to a real prob-
lem: the inspiration that they get from the “official”
political world and the climate that is reflected in
the media.9 Using the terminology employed by
Kuzmanic, I could say that here “signs” stand for
the actual acts of senseless racist violence, “signa-
tures” for the tacit approval of these actions by the
most prominent political parties and their leaders,
and “significance” for their wider meaning as ex-
pression of fear and hatred of everything different,
other, foreign, or “non-Serbian.” Given the complex
(and essentially hybrid) nature of the Serbian soci-
ety, this “significance” could also be understood as
an extreme act of self-loathing and the desperate
urge to self-destruct.
Defeating Racism: The Problem of Ethnocentrism
I consciously do not want to speak about the more
“popular” forms of racist behaviour (like insults in
the sport stadiums directed against the players of
African origin from the leading Western European
football clubs, while at the same time the leading
scorer of the Serbia and Montenegro’s last year’s
champion, Partizan FC, in 2004 was Pierre Boya,
from Cameroon!), because I believe that the prob-
lems encountered by this particular form of “cul-
tural racism” are much greater and potentially more
damaging.
In a case like Serbia, these also threaten relations
with the country’s neighbours (who are invariably
inhabited by some potentially “dangerous” minori-
ties), but also the social fabric of the society itself
(as there are no really “pure” Serbs, just as there are
no “pure” nations anywhere else). The real scope
of the problem is potentially much wider, and it
concerns the very concept of difference and what
we do with it.
As famously stressed by Lévi-Strauss when the
UNESCO was debating its current statement on
racism, for many people (himself included) there
was not much wrong with the notion of ethno-
centrism as such. The famous lecture, “Race and
Culture,” was delivered at the UNESCO in 1971,
and reprinted as the first chapter in “The View
9 Particularly good and detailed studies of the role of the
media in promoting racist and xenophobic attitudes have
been done in Slovenia - see, for example, a very informative
outline by Zagar (2002).
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
563
from Afar” (Lévi-Strauss 1992). Lévi-Strauss al-
ready expressed some of the more interesting ob-
servations in the “Preface” to this book, for ex-
ample: “Cultures are not unaware of one another,
they even borrow from one another on occasion;
but, in order not to perish, they must, in other
connections, remain somewhat impermeable to-
ward one another” (1992: xiv-xv). However, Lévi-
Strauss also claimed that the shift in the position
(and his growing scepticism) from an earlier publi-
cation he did for the same institution, “Race et his-
toire” (Lévi-Strauss 1952), was primarily upsetting
for the people working there, because they were, in
his words:
•.. dismayed that I challenged a catechism that was
for them all the more an article of faith because their
acceptance of it - achieved at the price of laudable efforts
that flew in the face of their local traditions and social
milieus - had allowed them to move from modest jobs in
developing countries to sanctified positions as executives
in an international institution (1992: xiii).
Some very important issues related to ethnocen-
trism and to Lévi-Strauss’ own position were
opened by his article, especially when it comes to
the limits of cultural relativism, or the limits of
our possibilities for making comparisons. While I
believe that it is important to understand this point
of view, I do not think that it could be extended to
all cultures and all situations. Furthermore, taken
to its extreme, this position can actually be seen as
something that could justify a notion such as the
“separate development” - as seen in South Africa
between 1949 and 1990, for example.
However, where does the apparently “innocent”
othnocentrism end (“we are all different”), and
racism and xenophobia begin (“as we are different,
We need to stay apart”)? How to draw the line?
Who will draw the line? And, most importantly, is
it possibly to draw one?
Just as we have some obligations to combat
racism as practitioners, public figures, teachers and
researchers, the problems are sometimes in the
realm that we do not have too much influence
ln, namely, politics. For example, the changes in
the political climate in Serbia after the assassina-
tion of the then Prime Minister Zoran Djindjic, on
12 March 2003, led to the rise of the DSS-led gov-
emment (with Mr. Vojislav Kostunica as the prime
minister), from March 2004. Mr. Kostunica’s poli-
cies of appeasing nationalists could not go unno-
ticed, and they naturally saw in him a clear and nat-
Ural ally (after all, he is one of the very few Serbian
Politicians who never condemned the war in Bosnia
and Herzegovina), and a possibility to pursue their
policies (for a list of recent examples, see especially
Biserko 2005: 533-636). It is impossible to really
combat racist or xenophobic incidents if their per-
petrators enjoy (or they believe they enjoy!) full and
wide-ranging support for their actions.
Some scholars who actively study interethnic
relations in Serbia (like Professor Vladimir Ilic
from Belgrade’s Department of Sociology of the
Faculty of Philosophy) claim that these and other
similar “incidents” in Serbia actually represent acts
of impotence and desperation of the extremists,
who know that their days are numbered, given Ser-
bia’s official “pro-European” political inclinations
and geographical surrounding. In his interpretation,
these and similar actions are primarily acts of the
desperate and marginal few, trying to draw attention
to what they consider important. Although this does
not diminish the gravity of the crimes committed,
Ilic believes that they are sometimes put out of pro-
portion.
In the situation where an increased globalisation
and cultural hybridisation of all parts of Europe
takes place, it is easy to see how certain extremist
groups feel extremely marginalised in this part of
the Balkans, and to see them trying to divert as
much attention to themselves as possible. On the
other hand, these and similar situations could never
arise in a political climate which clearly determines
acts of racism and xenophobia as politically, so-
cially, culturally, and legally unacceptable (an ex-
cellent example of the extremely lenient sentencing
of the mob members who burnt the Nis mosque,
charged only for “disturbing the peace”!).
Having said all that, I can only conclude that the
issue of racism and how to combat it is primarily
(if not only) a political one - it will always depend
on the particular political forces at play, as well as
on the presence or absence of the political will to
stop it. As long as there is no such will, racism will
continue unchecked and unchallenged.
This article was written as part of the research project
“Democratic Models of Developing Social Cohesion and
Economic Development in the Processes of Serbia’s
European Integrations” of the Institute of Social Sci-
ences in Belgrade, Serbia. It was originally presented at
the IUAES Inter-Congress on racism (“Racism’s Many
Faces: Challenge for All Anthropologists and Ethnolo-
gists”) in Pardubice, Czech Republic, on 1 September
2005. I am very grateful to the main organiser of this
event and IUAES Vice-President Dr. Petr Skalnik for
inviting me to participate in this congress. The Rhodes
University Travel and Subsistence Grant T&S 82/2005
made my travel to this congress possible.
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
564 Abbreviations
DS Demokratska Democratic Party
DSS stranka Demokratska Democratic Party of
stranka Srbije Serbia
G17 Plus G17 Plus G17 Plus
SPO Srpski pokret ob- Serbian Renewal
nove Movement
SPS Socijalisticka par- Socialist Party of
ti] a Srbije Serbia
SRS Srpska radikalna Serbian Radical
stranka Party
References Cited
Anonymous
2005 Rasizam u Vojvodini [Racism in Vojvodina], B92 News
4 September 2005, 10:30. <http://www.b92.net>
Ballinger, Pamela
2004 “Authentic Hybrids” in the Balkan Borderlands. Current
Anthropology 45: 31-61.
Benedict, Ruth
1942 Race and Racism. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
Biserko, Sonja (ed.)
2005 Human Rights and Collective Identity. Serbia 2004. Bel-
grade: Helsinki Committee for Human Rights in Serbia.
Cowlishaw, Gillian K.
2000 Censoring Race in Post-Colonial Anthropology. Critique
of Anthropology 20: 101-123.
Eriksen, Thomas Hylland
2002 Ethnicity and Nationalism. Anthropological Perspec-
tives. London: Pluto Press. [2nd rev. ed.]
Gilroy, Paul
1998 Race Ends Here. Ethnic and Racial Studies 21: 838 —
847.
Heusch, Luc de
2000 L’ethnie. The Vicissitudes of a Concept. Social Anthro-
pology 8; 99-115.
Jaksic, Bozidar (ed.)
1998 Interculturality versus Racism and Xenophobia. Bel-
grade: Forum for Ethnic Relations.
Kuzmanic, Tonci
2002 Post-Socialism, Racism, and the Reinvention of Politics.
In: M. Pajnik (ed.), Xenophobia and Post-Socialism:
pp. 17-35. Ljubljana: The Peace Institute.
Latour, Bruno
2004 Whose Cosmos, Which Cosmopolitics? Comments on
the Peace Terms of Ulrich Beck. Common Knowledge
10: 450-462.
Lévi-Strauss, Claude
1952 Race et histoire. Paris: UNESCO.
1992 The View from Afar. Translated by Joachim Neugroschel
and Phoebe Hoss. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
[1983]
Loveman, Mara
1999 Making “Race” and Nation in the United States, South
Africa, and Brazil. Taking Making Seriously. Review
Essay. Theory and Society 28: 903-927.
Marie, Georgije (ed.)
1995 Hate Speech as Freedom of Speech. Belgrade: Helsinki
Committee for Human Rights in Serbia.
Mursic, Rajko
2000 The Yugoslav Dark Side of Humanity. A View from
a Slovene Blind Spot. In: J. M. Halpem and D. A.
Kideckel (eds.), Neighbors at War. Anthropological Per-
spectives on Yugoslav Ethnicity, Culture, and History;
pp. 56-77. University Park: Pennsylvania State Univer-
sity Press.
Port, Mattijs van de
1998 Gypsies, Wars and Other Instances of the Wild. Civilisa-
tion and Its Discontents in a Serbian Town. Amsterdam:
Amsterdam University Press.
Zack, Naomi
2001 Philosophical Aspects of the “AAA Statement on
‘Race.’ ” Anthropological Theory 1: 445-465.
Zagar, Igor Z.
2002 Xenophobia and Slovenian Media. How the Image of the
Other Is Constructed (and What It Looks Like). In: M-
Pajnik (ed.), Xenophobia and Post-Socialism; pp. 37-
44. Ljubljana: The Peace Institute.
Zizek, Slavoj
1990 Eastern Europe’s Republics of Gilead. New Left Review
183: 50-62.
Power vs. Consent in Tribal Political
Systems in Iran:
Salzman on the Basseri Khan
Comments on an Extreme View
Burkhard Ganzer
In the spectrum of Near Eastern tribal political sys-
tems and types of leadership, Iran stands out in
that forms of undoubted centralised authority and
effective exertion of power developed there. Nev-
ertheless, even in the most distinct cases, such as
those of the Qashqa’i and Bakhtyari, a strong seg-
mentary counterweight represented by the leaders
of component subgroups, and hence an element of
dependence and transactionality, has remained. K
is this element or aspect that has received most at-
tention in the modem theoretical treatment of these
systems (see, e.g., Loeffler 1978). Not surprisingly»
it has also often been overemphasized and exagger-
ated in accordance with the individualist, antiessen-
tialist, and symbolist tendencies of modem theoriz-
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
565
ing - see, for example, the change in content and
style noticeable in Lois Beck’s articles of 1983 and
1990 respectively. A recent and quite extreme case
in this development is Salzman’s (2000) reassess-
ment of the role of the Basseri khan (as depicted
in Barth’s seminal monograph of 1961) in which
the above-mentioned trends are still reinforced by
a postmodernist preference for construction, super-
ficies, and appearance, and, it must be said, a post-
modernist nonchalance in the treatment of the writ-
ings of other authors (cf. Barth 1992; Street 1992).
This review article1 is the subject of the present
short contribution.
That Salzman has chosen Barth’s analysis for
his reinterpretation is no coincidence. It is true
that Digard denounces it as a further example of
the “rite[s] de l’anthropologie nord-américaine, qui
consiste à procéder à la nième relecture critique de
l’ouvrage Nomads of South Persia (1961) de Fred-
rik Barth” (2000: 179). However, these efforts may
well be conceded a more rational motivation; given
the book’s character as the opening document of
the modem anthropology of Iranian tribes and as
their “classic ethnography” (Bradburd 1992: 315),
it seems that any new insights gained in relation
to it are bound to be of wider significance. This
also holds true for Salzman’s views - and, conse-
quently, for their critical examination. Decisive for
Salzman, however, is the fact that the theory put
to work in “Nomads” proved in retrospect to be
in line with the general direction which anthropo-
logical theory since has taken. This imparts to the
book an aspect of lasting modernity. For the same
reason it can be regarded as a sort of precursor, as
heralding achievements of which it held the poten-
tial but which it itself did not attain. It is possible,
therefore, to criticize it from the vantage point of
Msights, which its author failed to secure but which
" supposedly - lie in the line of his theorizing.
This is the stance Salzman assumes in his rein-
terpretation of the role and power of the Basseri
khan as depicted by Barth. Whereas the latter
viewed the power of the khan as dependent on the
M ability of ordinary members to create effective
resistance, Salzman considers it virtually nonexis-
tent, an illusion jointly upheld by the khan and the
tribesmen in an effort to impress other tribes and
representatives of the state. However, Salzman de-
clares this reduction of khan power to mere “image
Management” to be “Barthian in spirit” (2000: 50).
kte claims, in other words, that his thesis represents
1 Salzman, Philip Carl; Hierarchical Image and Reality. The
Construction of a Tribal Chiefship. Comparative Studies in
Society and History 42.2000: 49-66.
an insight Barth himself would have gained if he
had pursued his analysis far enough.
Not surprisingly, therefore, Salzman’s reinter-
pretation is an attempt to demonstrate that Barth
had “overstated” the power of the khan and “under-
stated” his dependence on the consent of the tribes-
men. The aim of the present observations is to show
that Salzman does not arrive at his somewhat ex-
travagant result by simply correcting Barth’s con-
tentions but by reversing them, that is, by under-
stating the power of the khan and overstating the
importance of consent. To achieve this, he resorts
in more than one instance to distorted representa-
tions of data, statements, and conclusions, and to
rhetorical devices in amplifying the latter.
Note should also be taken of a more general flaw
in Salzman’s article. By concentrating on the out-
come of Barth’s analysis and criticizing the lack of
determination in his conclusions, Salzman passes
over the major problematic point in the foundation
of Barth’s study. It is the fact that in the historical
situation from which Barth proceeded, the political
system of the Basseri, similar to all other tribes in
the region, had undergone profound change and lost
much of its significance. It is important to note that
this applies not just to the time of Barth’s field-
work (1958) but also to the time-span shortly be-
forehand (1956), as envisaged by Barth in his re-
construction of the system (1961; 71, fn. 1). Hence
although the approach adopted by Salzman of pin-
pointing commoners rather than the leaders of sub-
groups (tire, tdyefe) as the opponents of the khan in
the tribal power-household (cf. Ganzer 1988: 47f.)
may make sense for that particular stage - judg-
ing from comparative evidence it is undoubtedly
a misconception in relation to periods prior to this
(see, e.g., Loeffler 1978; Ganzer 2005).2 The same
holds true for the equally basic assertion that the
khan “lacked substantial coercive means” (Salz-
man 2000: 52). Considering the existence, in all the
tribes of the region, of officials (tofangci) in the
khan’s retinue, whose duty it was to apply this very
coercion,3 it is only plausible for the period sub-
sequent to the above-mentioned change. Hence the
facts Salzman attempts to reinterpret are confined
to a specific period, a particular phase in the devel-
opment of Basseri society, and any propositions on
these facts would have to be qualified accordingly.
2 Cf. Tapper: “I would argue that Basseri ethnography is
totally inappropriate for extrapolation onto earlier nomadic
tribes, for various reasons” (1990: 60).
3 See, e.g., Loeffler 1978; Fazel 1979; H. Gaffari 1368 [1989];
Safi-Nezad 1368 [1989]; SahbazI 1366 [1987]; MagldT 1372
[1992]: 463f.
A-nthr
■opos 101.2006
566
Berichte und Kommentare
Salzman completely fails to do this. Instead, he
couches his statements in a comprehensive, though
undeclared, ethnographic present, the tone of which
he sets in the very first sentence of the article.
Salzman grounds his allegation of Barth’s “over-
stating” on a number of arguments. One of them is
the consideration that - contrary to Barth’s claim
- the ordinary Basserì tribesmen were well capa-
ble of resistance vis-à-vis the khan, since they pos-
sessed the tools of military force, i.e., firearms and
riding horses (2000: 53). According to Salzman it
is difficult to reconcile Barth’s image of the “om-
nipotent, autocratic chief and his subservient, sub-
missive subjects” with the “reality of a universal
distribution of the means of armed coercion among
skilled and hardy tribesmen” (2000: 53).
This argument is the first and most obvious ex-
ample of Salzman’s use of the gradatio, i.e., the
gradual amplification of a concept or statement. As-
cending from the initial references “Many Basseri
owned horses for riding (Barth 1961: 6)” (2000: 53)
and “Firearms were esteemed (Barth 1961: 74, 88)”
(53) over the conclusion “Thus the tools of military
force - firearms and riding horses - were in the
hands of ordinary tribesmen” (53) he reaches the
climax by declaring the aforementioned “universal
distribution of the means of armed coercion” an
established fact (53, compare “All tribesmen were
warriors and owned weapons and riding animals,
and had the skill and inclination to use them”; 62).
As a matter of fact, Barth said much less than is
attributed to him by Salzman in the two references;
At no time does tie mention that “many Basseri”
owned horses (see Barth 1961: 6),4 and the remark
concerning the high esteem of weapons, while in
itself undoubtedly true, is a conjecture of Salzman,
drawn from factual information about ceremonial
gifts (2000: 53).
Judged independently, with or without its be-
ing couched in Salzman’s dubious present tense,
the assertion concerning the distribution of firearms
is untenable. In the societies in question, distri-
bution was certainly less than universal in Qajar
times as well as in the period following forced
disarmament during the Reza Shah regime. Distri-
bution reached its peak in the years after the lat-
ter’s removal (1941) when the tribes of the south
and southwest carried out a large series of at-
tacks on army and gendarmerie posts with the
4 Concerning the Boyr-Ahmad of 1909, the British Vice-
Consul in Shiraz (in a letter to the Legation, December 15th,
1909) remarked that “only a small number” of their fight-
ers were mounted (National Archives, Parliamentary Papers,
Cd5656).
primary aim of securing weapons and ammuni-
tion (TaqawT-Moqaddam 1377 [1998]: 407 ff.). But
even then, not every tribesman owned a rifle. After
the fall of the garrison at Semirom (1943), for ex-
ample, when more than 3,000 weapons fell into the
hands of the victorious Boyr-Ahmad (SafT-Nezad
1368 [1989]: 455), tribal blacksmiths were occu-
pied with converting automatic guns from the booty
into ordinary rifles (Taheri n.d.) - indicating that
despite this huge influx the supply of rifles was
still inadequate.5 It was sufficient for tribal war-
fare, but tribal warfare and raiding generally in-
volved only a limited number of armed men. For
the Bahma’i of Kohgiluye their percentage - as
against various unarmed supply troops - was esti-
mated by Safi-Nezad as not more than 23 percent.6
Moreover, the ratio of weapons per tribe does not
give an accurate picture since their distribution was
unequal. Khans and lesser leaders held large stocks
of weapons with which they equipped their armed
retainers (Safi-Nezad 1368 [1989]: 474,7 Sahbazi
1366 [1987]: 95; MagldT 1372 [1992]: 464).8 That
firearms were a scarce commodity is also visible
in much of the tribal folk poetry, where rifles and
the desire for them - equalling the desire for a
beautiful girl - are a prominent theme (Y. Gaffari
1362 [1983]; Friedl 1977/78).
If for the sake of argument one were to con-
cede the universal availability of firearms, the ques-
tion of how this potential for resistance was ex-
ploited would still remain. Salzman’s answer is a
conjectural inference, again followed by a gradatio
leading to a supposition of fact: “[I]f arms could
be turned against foreign enemies, could they not
also have been turned against internal enemies? If
a chief could have been brought down by an as-
sassin’s bullet, he could have also been brought
down by a rebel’s bullet” (2000: 53). “Yet Basseri
5 A month after this event, one section of the Boyr-Ahmad
raided the town of Ardakan. In a telegram to the Legation
in Tehran (August 16th, 1943), the British consul in Shiraz
specified the attacking body as “700 bandits of which 200
were armed” (National Archives, FO 248/1420, Internal
situation: Pars 1943).
6 Safi-Nezad 1368 [1989]: 460; cf. Beck 1983:308; Sahbazi
i366 [1987]: 95; Bayat 1365 [1986]: 118.
7 Safi-Nezad presents the facsimile of a list, dressed before a
raid, containing the names of the guard members, the type of
weapons handed out (to be returned after the raid), and the
number of cartridges given to each man (1368 [1989]: 475)-
8 Cf. the following observation made by a British intelligence
officer: “On my last visit to Kazerun I was told that some
of these Cheriks [road guards] were earning their living by
hiring out their rifles for a portion of the loot...” (National
Archives, FO 248/1409: Intelligence report [Information ob-
tained during a tour to the Mamassani area], March 5th,
1942).
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
567
commoners, as we have seen, had many resources
of resistance at their disposal:... threat of or actual
violent attack ...” (54). “The ineffective or oppres-
sive tribal chief, if he survived assassination ...”
(55). Acts of this kind committed by individual
common tribesmen or small groups (cf. p. 55) are
presented in this manner as something normal. In
actual fact, they were at best a rare exception. In the
history of endless succession conflicts, at least in
Kohgiluye, there is no known case of a khan having
been killed by a commoner, unless he acted on the
order of a person of higher rank. Even assassination
by subleaders was a very rare occurrence.
Salzman seeks to support his argument by quot-
ing a remark made by Bahman-BegT (in the transla-
tion by Monteil (1966; 134)) on the Qashqa’i: “Le
fait ... que les nomades soient armés et de ca-
ractère vif rend la tyrannie (estebdâd) impossible”
(2000; 53). But he fails to take notice of the para-
graph immediately after it (omitted in Monteil’s
translation), where Bahman-Begl admits that to
some extent fear constituted the basis of the khans’
power and that their capricious volition occasion-
ally had disastrous effects on the life of the tribes-
men (Bahman-Begl 1324 [1945]; 57). The same au-
thor mentions tribesmen as inmates of a sort of
mobile prison of the ïlhânï (paramount leader of
the Qashqa’i), who followed the movements of his
camp in chains.9 The fact that such estebdâd or
zolm existed in all of these societies is a fact be-
yond question. Writing on the Boyr-Ahmad, Loeff-
ler mentions a striking example of this, comment-
ing on the bad reputation of the above-mentioned
tofangcï, which was the outcome of “lending a
hand in that gravest of all moral trespasses, op-
pression.”10 The danger of khan rule becoming
oppression - to the detriment also of the cen-
tral state - was omnipresent. Pretenders for khan-
ship could, therefore, use the accusation of zolm
9 Bahman-Begi 1368 [1989]: 56, 79f.; see also Akbari 1370
[1991]: 161; Safi-Nezad 1368 [1989]: 599; Magldl 1372
[1992]: 468f. ’
10 Loeffler 1978: 155; cf. Hoseynl 1373 [1994]: 14; see also
Akbari 1370 [1991]: 22f.; Magldl 1372 [1992]; 463 f„ 469;
TaqawT-Moqaddam 1377 [1998]: 260; Ganzer 2000: 77f.
As late as 1943, it was possible for members of the tribal
elite to commit acts such as the following: “Malek Mansur,
the juvenile chief of the Basht Bavi, has recently further
weakened his position. A kadkhoda of the Bekesh tribe, into
which Malek Mansur has recently married, was robbed of his
rifle while visiting a Bavi encampment. Malek Mansur quite
naturally visited the camp, but, finding the culprit absent, is
reported to have had six of his relations shot; he is said to
have killed two of the relatives - mere boys - with his own
hand” (National Archives, FO 371/35090: Ahwaz situation
reports, Ahwaz diaries, 16th to 31st July 1943).
to harm their opponents in the eyes of the state
authorities (TaqawT-Moqaddam 1377 [1998]; 268).
In some cases where degeneration had already oc-
curred and become intolerable, the khan was done
away with by someone who thus promoted both
factional interests and the welfare of the tribe as a
whole (Akbari 1370 [1991]; 26ff.; Taqawl-Moqad-
dam 1377 [1998]: 260). This someone was, how-
ever, not an ordinary tribesman but a subleader or
a conspiratorial group of subleaders. In the light of
all this it seems clear that the chance of falling vic-
tim to a malcontent commoner was certainly not a
factor that would have scared the khans into making
concessions that weakened their power.
The second factor to have this effect according
to Salzman was the almost unrestricted mobility of
the subjects that enabled them to withdraw from
the khan’s reign: “This mobility gave them a full
capacity of rapid and complete retreat from threats
of any kind. Tribesmen could have, if they wished,
literally walked or ridden away from their chief”
(2000: 53). Their aim in such cases was to affil-
iate themselves to another chief, which was not
a difficult feat considering that “[t]he presence of
neighboring tribes and their chiefs presented alter-
native leadership options for common tribesmen ...
If tribesmen believed that their interests were bet-
ter served by the chief of a neighboring tribe, they
could have switched allegiance” (54).
Salzman adopts this view from Barth, who like-
wise has described the relationship of the tribesmen
to the khans as characterized by option. According
to him, the authority of a strong khan was felt in
neighbouring tribes too and could lead to a change
of rule; “Camps, oulads and sections seek out the
strong chief and submit to him ... Any imbalance
between tribes in the effectiveness of centralized
authority stimulates an extension of the stronger
centre’s claims to authority, and a voluntary flow
of commoners from the weaker to the stronger cen-
tre” (Barth 1961: 85). It is important, however, to
be aware of the “stamp of Swat” (Paine 1982) in
this notion, i.e., of the bias resulting from Barth’s
former research on the Pakhtun of northern Pak-
istan. The landlords there were said to have com-
peted for the services of the landless non-Pakhtun
- the concept of khan authority as a competitive
relationship for the allegiance of commoners and its
implications, as cited above, bears the unmistakable
imprint of this model. The bias at work here is also
apparent in the examples given by Barth. Whereas
the “flow” in the above quotation is presented as
voluntary and the relation between the protagonists
of the affiliation process as essentially individual-
istic, the subjects of the changes are nowhere con-
^nthropos 101.2006
568
Berichte und Kommentare
glomerates of single households but named tribal
sections - with the right of the option undoubtedly
lying with the leaders of these, not the common
tribesmen (Barth 1961; 85 f.). Likewise, an obser-
vation on flows and the implied change of local-
ity sheds light on the “voluntariness” of these pro-
cesses: “Defections from the tribe by larger groups
of commoners are caused ... by the ruthlessnes[s]
of strong chiefs ...” (Barth 1961:84). Although
Salzman quotes this sentence, he introduces it in
such a way that its meaning is seriously distorted.
For him, the abandonment “resulted from tribes-
men’s rejection of their tribal chief” (2000: 54, my
italics). Thus, what in reality is a desperate measure
or flight becomes in his interpretation the exercise
of an option or a vote.11
Comparative evidence, too, shows the assertion
that changes of this kind were voluntary to be ques-
tionable. In Kohgiluye, for example, their main rea-
son - apart from the punitive dislocations ordered
by the state (see, e.g., MagTdT 1372 [1992]: 233,
418 f.) - was defeat in factional and intertribal
struggles.12 The groups that took refuge with
neighbouring tribes did not resort to this measure
on the grounds of discontent or in the hope that their
interests would be “better served” there but because
they were actually driven from their homelands or
dreaded being subjected to gdrat, i.e., campaigns of
wholesale plundering. Leaving the country meant
the loss of numerous tribal and familial relations
and the adoption of a precarious and reduced sta-
tus that was to last for many years. The associated
perils were even greater for single households and
individuals (cf. Ganzer 1988: 45). Only an exigency
like the threat of blood revenge could motivate such
a step, but certainly not the prospect of some lim-
ited advantage.
With the factuality of the “leadership option”
proving to be no less doubtful than that of universal
armament, Salzman’s thesis that Basseri common-
ers were under no obligation or pressure to obey
their chiefs seems groundless. Sure of having es-
tablished it, however, Salzman proceeds to pose the
question as to why they nevertheless obeyed the
chiefs. In his interpretation, they did so out of their
11 Cf. Beck (1990: 195): “Leaders were usually limited in their
ability to apply force because tribespeople could ‘vote with
their feet,’ deny allegiance to leaders, and form ties with
other groups and leaders.” Some years earlier it read; “The
actions and demands of leaders were checked by the ability
of dissatisfied followers to sever their ties. Leaders dissatis-
fied with tribal followers were also, however, in a position to
apply sanctions and punishments” (1983: 309).
12 Bawar 1324 [1945]: 88; Magldi 1372 [1992]: 377; Safi-Ne-
zad 1368 [1989]: 709; Akbari 1370 [1991]: 160.
own free will: “[T]he Basseri chief was able to rule
because he had the consent of his tribesmen ... He
knew that their consent was the foundation of his
political power” (2000: 55).
In support of this contention, Salzman brings an-
other quotation from Bahman-Begî who, allegedly,
“stresses the sensitivity of chiefs to the preferences
of his [sic] tribesmen” in the appointment of sub-
chiefs (2000: 55). According to the author in ques-
tion (as translated by Monteil [1966; 134] and cited
by Salzman) the ilkhan of the Qashqa’i “ne peut
nommer chef de tribu ou de clan que celui des can-
didats ... que soutient l’opinion publique. ... En
général, les nomades peuvent choisir leurs chefs”
(2000: 55). This appears to be a clear statement in
favour of Salzman’s argument - but is it really the
case? It is regrettable that Salzman draws on the
translation rather than the original Persian text, as
the tenor of the latter is quite different to that of
its French rendering. The restriction of freedom of
choice does not relate here to public opinion but to
the exclusiveness of succession, hereditary in cer-
tain lineages. Monteil’s translation omits the entire
issue. The taking into account of public opinion
is merely an additional point in the original text,
a moral injunction to be observed by a good ruler,
and not something that effectively restricts him in
his choices (Bahman-Begî 1324 [1945]; 57).
In the second part of the quotation, the omis-
sion is on Salzman’s side; The dots separating the
first and second part represent 12 lines in Monteil’s
translation and a full 25 lines, or four paragraphs, in
the original text. Understandably, the topic changes
after that. What Bahman-Begî says in the passage
is this: when pretenders for leadership agree on
the partition of their tayefe in an attempt to avoid
discord and fighting, the choice of allegiance to
one or the other of the ensuing halves (taraf) is
occasionally left to the members of that tayefe.
Of late, this has become the rule (Bahman-Begî
1324 [1945]: 58). Monteil’s use of “chefs” for taraf
in his translation of the passage seems defensible
in the context and does not lead to misunderstand-
ing. It does so, however, in Salzman’s quotation,
where the phrase has been stripped of its context
and appears (and is meant to appear) as a general
statement on relations between khan and common-
ers - enjoying the special dignity of coming from
an author who, “himself a member of the powerful
Qashqai tribal confederacy” (2000: 53), has to be
regarded as an unassailable authority on the matter.
It would be of no avail to add further exam-
ples of zolm and estebdâd to those already given
above in refuting Salzman’s contention. Only when
the term “consent” is understood in a very gen-
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
569
eral sense can the assertion that the power of the
khans was dependent on consent of the tribesmen
be said to have some truth. There was undoubt-
edly consent to the khans’ rule inasmuch as it af-
forded protection against other tribes and the cen-
tral state, held the prospect of booty in warfare
and robbery, helped to maintain the superior sta-
tus of nomad and tribesman as distinct from that
of defenceless peasant, and constituted an element
of tribal grandeur. Less consent was clearly the
case with regard to material exaction in its var-
ious forms, e.g., taxes, tributes, and levies, and,
above all, with regard to the injustice and oppres-
sion into which khan rule frequently degenerated.
Fundamentally, of course, this rule was accepted
because there was no alternative to it. Only when
the potential of resistance of the tribes had been de-
stroyed by the development of military techniques
and the state had begun to change its policy by turn-
ing threats and benefits directly towards the nomads
did consent in this nonspecific sense begin to dwin-
dle, impairing the khans’ overall political stature in
the process. The failure of the last uprising of the
Boyr-Ahmad in 1963 was due to these factors (cf.
Taqawl-Moqaddam 1377 [1998]: 517ff.). So, khan
power was in a certain sense dependent on consent,
but certainly not to the extent alleged by Salzman,
according to whom “the ‘effective and continuous
exercise’ of his [the khan’s] authority ... required
that he only command what he knew his tribesmen
Were willing to obey, to lead only where his tribes-
men were willing to follow” (2000: 62).
Having criticized Salzman’s thesis up to this
Point, I will be brief on its final conclusion, i.e., the
assertion that “[t]his image of the omnipotent chief
and his obedient subjects ... can be appreciated
as a conspirational misrepresentation jointly engi-
neered ... by the chief and the commoners. This
‘presentation of (collective) self’ was the facade
exhibited by the Basseri to the wider world, to en-
courage respect and fear and discourage opposition
and aggression” (2000: 58).
The main evidence to support this idea comes
from a passage by Lancaster (1981: 82 f.) relating to
a feast given by Rwala-Bedouin sheikhs for visiting
°fficials. In the course of their dealings, “impres-
Slon management” came into play, the impression
conveyed being one of “power and magnificence”
frn Salzman 2000: 58): “All these services were
Performed by slaves and servants at a sign from the
sheikh and every action was carried out promptly.
One would have said that they went in fear of their
bves if they disobeyed or were even careless.” Evi-
dence that this was no more than a show manifested
ltself the moment the guests had departed. All pre-
Al«hropos 101.2006
tension of command and obedience was dropped:
“The slaves lolled in the recently vacated seats, the
sheikhs poured their own tea ... I heard the same
slaves, those paragons of domestic service, telling
the sheikh that it was too hot to do what he had
asked, he’d have to do it himself” (Lancaster in
Salzman 2000: 58 f.). This is clearly an indisputable
example of impression management. Less clear,
however, is the precise quality or relation exhib-
ited in the show. The last sentence in the quotation
(which Salzman fails to comment on) raises some
doubt: “How far anyone is taken in by these phoney
displays of omnipotence is hard to say; presumably
other Bedu aren’t, but maybe government officials
and other non-Bedu guests are, to some degree”
(Lancaster in Salzman 2000: 59). This leads one to
suspect that the object of the exercise was not to
demonstrate the omnipotence of the chief or sub-
mission to him but the unreserved dedication of all
group members, from sheikh to slave, to the well-
being of the guests - in other words, that it might
not have been submission in the political sense but
in the very different one of Coffman’s “deference”
(1956).
References Cited
Akbarl, Qodratolläh
1370 [1991] Boyr-Ahmad dar gozargÄh-e tärih. Slräz; Mosta-
fawl.
Bahman-BegT, Mohammed Bahman
1324 [1945] cOrf wa cädat dar casäyer-e Fürs. Tehran: Bon-
gäh-e Äzar.
1368 [1989] Bohärä-ye man Il-e man. Tehran: Mo’assase-ye
entesärät-e Ägäh.
Barth, Fredrik
1961 Nomads of South Persia. The Basseri Tribe of the Kham-
seh Confederacy. Oslo: Oslo University Press. (Univer-
sitetets Etnografiske Museum, 8).
1992 Method in Our Critique of Anthropology. Man 27: 175 —
177.
Bäwar, Mahmüd
1324 [1945] KühgTlüye wa Ilät-e an. Gac-Särän.
Bayät, Käwe
1365 [1986] Söres-e casäyerl-ye Färs 1307-1309 h. s. [o. O.]:
Nasr-e Noqre.
Beck, Lois
1983 Iran and the Qashqai Tribal Confederacy. In: R: Tap-
per (ed.), The Conflict of Tribe and State in Iran and
Afghanistan; pp. 284-313. London: Croom Helm; New
York: St. Martin’s Press.
1990 Tribes and the State in Nineteenth- and Twentieth-
Century Iran. In: P. Khoury and J. Kostiner (eds.), Tribes
and State Formation in the Middle East; pp. 185-225.
Berkeley: University of California Press.
570
Berichte und Kommentare
Bradburd, Daniel
1992 Territoriality and Iranian Pastoralists. Looking Out from
Kerman. In; M. J. Casimir and A. Rao (eds.), Mo-
bility and Territoriality. Social and Spatial Boundaries
among Foragers, Fishers, Pastoralists, and Peripatetics;
pp. 309-327. New York; Berg Publishers.
Digard, Jean-Pierre
2000 Compte rendu de P. C. Salzman 2000. Abstracta Iranica
23: 179.
Fazel, G. Reza
1979 Economic Bases of Political Leadership among Pastoral
Nomads. The Boyr Ahmad Tribe of Southwest Iran. In:
M. B. Leons and F. Rothstein (eds.), New Directions in
Political Economy. An Approach from Anthropology;
pp. 33-48. Westport: Greenwood Press.
Friedl, Erika
1977/78 Folksongs from Boir Ahmad, Southwest Iran. Mar-
dom-senäsT wa farhang-e camme-ye Iran 3: 47-54.
Gaffârï, Heybatolläh
1368 [1989] Sähtärhä-ye egtemâcï-ye casäyer-e Boyr-Ahmad.
Tehran: Ney.
GaffärT, Yacqüb
1362 [1983] NemüneT az ascär-e mahalll-ye mardom-e Koh-
gîlûye wa Boyr-Ahmad wa sarh-e kûtâhî az zendegi-ye
“Kay Lohras”. Yäsüg: Cäphäne-ye Amïr.
Ganzer, Burkhard
1988 Camp, Sektion und Herrschaft in iranischen Stammesge-
sellschaften. Zu F. Barths Revision der Lineage-Theorie.
Sociologus 38: 35-54.
2000 Kulturelle Distanz und “ethnographic refusal”. Zur Eth-
nographie iranischer Nomadengesellschaften. Anthropos
95: 65-85.
2005 Politische Verhältnisse einer Stammesregion in Südwest-
iran. Anthropos 100; 91-112.
Goffman, Erving
1956 The Nature of Deference and Demeanor. American An-
thropologist 58: 473-502.
Hoseynl, Sa'ed
1373 [1994] Güsehä-ye nâgofteT az târih-e mocäser-e Iran:
waqäyec-e sälhä-ye 1331-1332 wa 1341-42 dar Koh-
gflüye wa Boyr-Ahmad. Slräz: Entesärät-e Nawld.
Lancaster, William
1981 The Rwala Bedouin Today. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
Loeffler, Reinhold
1978 Tribal Order and the State. The Political Organization of
Boir Ahmad. Iranian Studies 11: 145-171.
Magïdî, Nür M.
1372 [1992] Tärih wa gogräfiyä-ye Kohgîlôye wa Boyr-Ah-
mad. Tehran: Entesärät-e celml.
Monteil, Vincent
1966 Les tribus du Fârs et la sédentarisation des nomades.
Paris, La Haye: Mouton. (Le Monde d’Outre-Mer passé
et présent, 10)
Paine, Robert
1982 The Stamp of Swat. A Brief Ethnography of Some of the
Writings of Fredrik Barth. Man 17: 328-339.
Safi-Nezäd, Gawäd
1368 [1989] cAsâyer-e markazî-ye Irän. Tehran: Amïr Kabîr.
Sahbazi, cAbdolIah
1366 [1987] Il-e nasenahte: pazuhesl dar kuhnesinan-e Sorhi-
ye Pars. Tehran: Ney.
Salzman, Philip Carl
2000 Hierarchical Image and Reality. The Construction of a
Tribal Chiefship. Comparative Studies in Society and
History 42: 49-66.
Street, Brian V.
1992 Method in Our Critique of Anthropology. Man 27: 177 —
179.
TaherT, cAtta3
n.d. AlmanTha dar casayer-e gonub. [Ms.].
Tapper, Richard
1990 Anthropologists, Historians, and Tribespeople on Tribe
and State Formation in the Middle East. In: P. Khoury
and J. Kostiner (eds.), Tribes and State Formation in
the Middle East; pp. 48-73. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
TaqawT-Moqaddam, Mostafa
1377 [1998] Tarih-e siyasl-ye KohgTluye. Tehran: Mo’assase-
ye motalacat-e tarih-e mocaser-e Iran.
How Friarbird Got His Helmet
Some Novel Features in an Eastern
Indonesian Narrative
David Hicks
In 1992 Gregory Forth drew attention to the ap-
pearance of the friarbird as one of two antagonists
in ten narratives (considered as a set) from eastern
Indonesia, the other being another bird of variable
species, and after subjecting the stories to a struc-
tural analysis, elicited several recurrent themes.
The pivot upon which the plot turns is the quarrel
between a friarbird and his antagonist. The former
wishes to have a short day and night that alternate
as at present whereas the other species wishes a day
to last the equivalent of seven days alternating with
a night lasting the equivalent of seven nights.
His paper subsequently motivated me into exam-
ining two comparable tales from Timor, the largest
island in the region, that existed in the published
literature (Hicks 1997), and which were obviously
members of the “friarbird” set. In concluding my
own analysis, I referred to a friarbird text I had
collected while carrying out research on the island
during my first fieldwork there in 1966-1967 and
I remarked my wish to present it in published form
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
571
at some future time. Since that time I have the ad-
vantage of returning to the island and being able
to discuss the matter of Friarbird1 with residents of
the locality from which I collected my original text
so that the analysis I offer in this paper has the ben-
efit of receiving comments by individuals to whose
corpus of oral literature the narrative belongs. Their
comments and the distinctive particularities of the
version itself impart to the text scrutinized below
four points of some singularity.
Ethnographic Background
The text transcribed below records a contest be-
tween a helmeted friarbird (Philemon buceroides)2
and a large-billed crow (Corvus macrorhynchos).
It is told for amusement but it is also an etiological
tale that can be construed as describing the origin of
three natural phenomena: (a) the respective lengths
of day and night; (b) the “bald” head of the hel-
meted friarbird; and (c) the color of the feathers of
the crow, the only species of crow known to exist on
Timor.3 Several alternative terms for the helmeted
friarbird exist in the Tetum language4 and in other
1 Where I refer to the species of the two birds in a generic
sense I use lower case to denote them; where I refer to the
protagonists of the narratives as individuals I use upper case.
In parallel fashion when referring to the birds as characters in
the narrative I represent their sex - appropriately in Timorese
vignettes about animals - as male but where I refer to them
as avian species I employ the neuter form.
2 Cf. Forth (1992: 428) who correctly confirms the identifi-
cation. There are two species of friarbird on Timor, Phile-
mon inornatus, a smaller species, and Philemon buceroides,
of which there are two subspecies, Philemon neglectus and
Philemon buceroides, the former being resident in the west-
ern Lesser Sundas, the latter in the eastern Lesser Sundas,
including Timor (Coates, Bishop, and Gardener 1997: 207).
3 I am indebted to Mr. Colin Trainor, of Charles Darwin Uni-
versity, Darwin, Australia, for identifying both species of
bird for me, providing me with information about their char-
acteristics, and for suggesting other sources of information
on their features and habits. In their respective dictionar-
ies Cliff Morris (1984: 101), Ramos da Silva (n.d.: 52) and
Raphael das Dores (1907: 138) identify the kaod correctly
as a crow, though giving the generic name. The Costa dic-
tionary (2000; 187) and that of Hull (1999: 170) designate
what might appear to be the same bird as kaod-lelok and
ko ’a-lelok rather than simply as kaod, and they both incor-
rectly gloss it as a “small swallow,” which the kaod is most
definitely not.
4 Like Mambai, the language from which the other two friar-
bird myths from East Timor (Hicks 1997) come, the Tetum
language is one of the Austronesian languages that are spo-
ken by the majority of persons on the island of Timor, and
the Belu narrative analyzed by Forth (1992) from East Timor
is also in Tetum. The vernacular languages of Timor fall
into two principal groups, the aforementioned Austronesian
languages and those that are conventionally denoted as the
regional languages, including kako’alc, kaeko’ak\
koakau. In the Viqueque subdistrict, which is in
the southeastern part of East Timor, the friarbird is
known as kakoak and the large-billed crow as kaod,
and with minor dialectal variations these names are
also their denotations in areas where the Tetum lan-
guage is spoken (see below).5
The helmeted friarbird is speckled or spotted
(hakerek) in dark colors and has as its most promi-
nent physical characteristic a nape that lacks feath-
ers, a feature that gives the creature the aspect of
baldness and from which the helmet-like attribution
almost certainly derives. The term by which it is
known in the vernacular may be related to the word
kako’a, “to be in a hurry,” “to hasten,” and its name
is said to imitate its cry (Costa 2000: 182; Hull
1999: 154), yet it disaccords with ornithological ev-
idence, as I shall remark below, and is at odds, too,
with Forth’s suggestion that the name is consistent
with the friarbird’s choice of a short day rapidly
alternating with a short night.6 However one may
represent its call that of Philemon buceroides as
palpably different and easily distinguishable from
that of the large-billed crow. Coates, Bishop, and
Gardner (1997: 476) refer to the call of the friarbird
as being “amongst the most characteristic sounds of
the dawn chorus in the lowlands” ... “an unhurried
series of 2-3 identical, disyllabic, hoarse, nasal,
low-pitched notes aHGa, aHGa, (aHGa) (dura-
tion 1.0-2.1 sec), repeated at 10-20 sec intervals,
sometimes monotonously and sometimes increas-
ing in volume; also aa, aHGa (duration 1.1 sec).”
By contrast, the call of the large-billed crow is de-
scribed as being easy to recognize by its guttural
nature and resembles wok, wok, wok, in quite rapid
non-Austronesian languages. To date there has been no re-
port of friarbird appearing in any stories occurring among
the body of oral literature in the four non-Austronesian lan-
guages of Timor, though in my 2005 field research I did
learn from a speaker of Bunak, one of these non-Indonesian
languages, that there does exist such a tale, but with some
differences from the specimen I collected in Viqueque. The
story is known quite widely throughout East Timor judging
from the response I received from students in the seminar
series I offered at the National University of East Timor
in the Second Semester of the Academic Year 2004-2005.
Coming from a number of linguistic traditions, including the
non-Indonesian Makassai and Fataluku languages, as well
as the Atoni language of the district of Oekusi, Nauheti, and
the Tetum of the Same region, a number of them professed
an acquaintance with the story.
5 The friarbird occurs widely throughout Timor, eastern In-
donesia, and Australia. The large-billed crow is widespread
throughout Asia.
6 One possible point of relevance here, I think, may lie in the
fact that both Philemon inornatus, the smaller species, and
Philemon buceroides, the larger species, are known in Tetum
as kakoak.
^nthropos 101.2006
572
Berichte und Kommentare
succession (Anonymous 2005). In contrast to the
examples cited by Forth, therefore, we have here
a contrast between the unhurried call of Philemon
buceroides and the more rapid call of the large-
billed crow. However, the crucial matter, and which
validates Forth’s insight is that the alignment of
temporal preference in the text transcribed below
matches the pattern he has discerned in the narra-
tives he analyzes. That is to say, the bird with the
(relatively) quicker call favours a shorter temporal
duration whereas the bird with the (relatively) more
languid call favours the longer temporal duration.
The natural contrast in call fits into the mythic con-
trast being made in the text I collected in Viqueque.
Friarbird,7 with the relatively more languid call,
wishes for a longer day and night (each being the
equivalent of a week) and Crow, with the more
rapid call, desires a day and night of shorter du-
ration (of one day/night each).
These are not the only contrasts that impart a
structure to the tale. The friarbird, which is almost
ubiquitous on Timor, is described as inhabiting
wooded areas, including those near human habi-
tations, living singly, in pairs, or in small groups,
being “noisy, conspicuous, and pugnacious,” and
“[visiting] flowering trees” (Coates, Bishop, and
Gardner 1997: 476). Consistent with its pugnacious
nature, in the narrative it seizes the initiative as the
aggressor in the confrontation it provokes and its
habit of visiting flowering trees is all of a piece with
the vegetal nature of its diet. It consumes fresh fruit
in contrast to the large-billed crow, which feeds on
carrion, and for which reason is thought by the Tim-
orese to be unclean. The opposition, clean/unclean,
carries over into the two birds’ respective images
among the indigenous population. Thus whereas
the friarbird enjoys a positive reputation in East
Timor, as a “clean” bird, the large-billed crow is
thought of in negative terms of uncleanness. Fri-
arbird’s auspicious attribute became evident during
my stay in East Timor in 2005. On 19 March of that
year, in conjunction with the Indonesian airline,
Merpati, twice-weekly flights were inaugurated be-
tween Dili, capital of East Timor, and Kupang, the
capital of Indonesian Timor. The single plane used
to inaugurate the flights carried the name “Kakoak.”
The connotations of the large-billed crow are en-
tirely different. A scavenger, which is said to emit
“bad smells” resulting from the decay that itself
derives from the rotted carcasses on which it feeds,
the large-billed crow is regarded as a bird of ill-
7 From this point on all references to “Friarbird” and “friar-
birds” refer exclusively to Philemon buceroides.
omen. Thus, when in 2005 an eagle hit a plane car-
rying President José Alexandre Gusmâo across the
island, his political enemies alleged that his plane
had been struck by a large-billed crow, an allegation
they knew the general populace would interpret to
be a presentiment of his death.8
The Texts
In the text9 that follows grammatical glosses for the
terms ona and tiha come from Hull (1999).
Vernacular Text
Hori uluk manu fuik rúa. Ida naran Kaoá. Ida
naran Kakoak. Sira rúa hafaha dabak. Iha meio-
dia, sira mai urna. Sira sani hudi sira atu han. Sira
rúa han. Kaoá ha’e fui tua. Sira rúa hemu. Henu
lanu. Sira rúa comega kolia. Kakoak hateten ba
iha Kaoá katak “Rai ne ’e hakarak loron hitu ha ’e
naroman. Kalan hito ha’e nakukun.” Hafoin Kaoá
hateten, “Kalan ida, loron ida. Labele loron hito,
kalan hitu, ne ’e ita terus labele. Ne ’e duni harakak
loron ida, kalan ida.” Kakoak lakoy, “Hakarak
loron hitu, kalan hitu.” Kaoá mos lakoy. “Hanesan
ne ’e. Ita hamlaha. Ita terus labele. Ne ’e duni halo
kalan ida, loron ida.” Kakoak tuku ona Kaoá. Kaoá
hodi boka baku Kakoak. Kakoak nia ulun tomak
ran ona. Kakoak hola fali hudi nia latun hodi kose
Kaoá metan hotu. Kakoak nia ulun temek tiha ona.
Kaoá metan tiha ona. Fasi la mos ona.
Literal Translation
Hori uluk manu fuik rua. Ida naran
From beginning bird wild two. One named
8 I am indebted to Mr. Jose Texeira for furnishing me with this
information in 2005.
9 The text was collected in Mamulak, a village (povoagdo or
aldeia) in the suku (an indigenous sociopolitical unit com-
posed of a varying number of descent groups) of Caraubalo
in Viqueque subdistrict (concelho). They were dictated to
me in Tetum on the night of January 26-27, 1967 by Mr.
Joao Lopes with occasional assistance from his neighbour,
Mr. Edmundo, both native speakers, and my gratitude goes
to both of them. On a subsequent visit to the region of
Caraubalo, but in another suku (that of Uma Ua’in Craik),
I collected two more narrational variations, which I hope at
sometime in the future to publish. A summary version of
this narratives appears in Hicks (2004: 64f.), where, how-
ever, greater emphasis is laid on the narrative’s etiological
concern with the lengths of day/night than on its “just-so
story character.
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
573
Kaod. Ida naran Kakoak. Sira rua
Crow. One named Friarbird. They two
hafaha dabak. Iha meio-dia, sira
clearing away weeds rotten. Came midday, they
mai uma. Sira sani hudi
came home. They roasted banana
sira atu ban. Sira
[postposed plural marker] in order to eat. They
rua ban. Kaod ha ’e fui tua.
two ate. Crow the one who poured wine.
Sira rua hemu. Menu lanu. Sira rua
They two drank. Drank drunk. They two
comega kolia. Kakoak hateten ba iha
began speak. Friarbird spoke to towards
Kaod katak “Rai ne’e hakarak loron hitu
Crow that “World this prefer day seven
ha’e naroman. Kalan hito ha’e nakukun.”
that is light. Night seven that is darkness.”
Hafoin Kaod hateten, “Kalan ida, loron ida.
Then Crow said, “Night one, day one.
Labele loron hito, kalan hitu, ne ’e ita
Cannot day seven, night seven, this we
terus labele. Ne ’e duni harakak loron ida,
cannot suffer. Therefore preferable day one,
kalan ida.” Kakoak lakoy, “Hakarak loron
night one.” Kakoak dissented. “Prefer day
hitu, kalan hitu.” Kaod mos lakoy.
seven, night seven.” Crow also dissented.
“Hanesan ne’e. Ita hamlaha. Ne’e ita terus
“It’s like this. We hungry. This we suffer
labele. Ne’e duni halo kalan ida, loron ida.”
cannot. Therefore make night one day one.”
Kakoak tuku ona Kaod. Kaod
Kakoak hit [inchoative marker] Crow. Crow
hodi boka baku Kakoak. Kakoak nia ulun
with gourd hit Kakoak. Kakoak his head
temek ran ona. Kakoak hola
bald blood [inchoative marker] Kakoak seized
fall hudi nia latun hodi kose Kaod
again banana its ashes with rubbed Crow
teetan hotu Kakoak nia ulun temek
black all over Kakoak his head bald
tiha
[marker indicating perfected action]
°na. Kaod metan
[inchoative marker]. Crow black
tiha
[marker indicating perfected action]
ona. Fasi la mos
[inchoative marker], wash not clean
ona.
[inchoative marker].
Free Translation
A long time ago there were two wild birds. One
was called Crow. The other was called Friarbird.
They were clearing rotten weeds from their gar-
den when midday came and they returned home
to eat. They roasted bananas and ate them, after
which they poured out some wine. The two of them
drank. They drank until they became drunk. They
began talking. Friarbird said to Crow, “I prefer this
world to have seven days of light followed by seven
days of darkness.” Then Crow said, “The arrange-
ment should be one night alternating with one day.
A day lasting seven days followed by a night last-
ing seven nights we definitely can’t have because
we would suffer too much. Therefore, I prefer one
day alternating with one night.” But Friarbird did
not want this arrangement, saying “I prefer a day
lasting seven days followed by a night lasting seven
nights.” Crow continued to disagree. “It’s like this.
We shall be hungry. We must not suffer. Therefore,
the best arrangement is to have one night alternat-
ing with one day.” Friarbird hit Crow. Crow hit Fri-
arbird with a gourd. Friarbird’s entire head became
covered in blood. Friarbird grabbed some banana
ash and rubbed Crow’s entire body with it until his
body was black all over. Friarbird’s head remained
bald and Crow’s body remained black for he could
never wash himself clean.
Commentary
From hearing Timorese tell the tale and from recit-
ing the tale myself in the presence of Timorese
it is clear that for the local audience the feature
of the story that focuses most of their attention is
the consequences of the fight that Friarbird initiates
rather than the details of the dispute that provoked
Friarbird into launching his onslaught in the first
place. Thus one of my Tetum consultants flatly dis-
missed any suggestion that the friarbird had “lost”
(lakon) the argument in that his preference never
came to be realized. She remarked that “They were
drunk (lanu),” and presumably incapable while in
that inebriated state of paying much attention to
^nthropos 101.2006
574
Berichte und Kommentare
matters of cosmological magnitude. The interpreta-
tion she ascribed to the duel emphasized instead the
adjustment to the physical appearance of the two
antagonists that resulted from their altercation. The
story resembled a “fable” (fdbula in Portuguese)
she averred. The indigenous interpretation carries
special authority in matters exegetical, of course,
and the story of Friarbird must be regarded in such
a light, but indigenous exegesis need not exhaust
all the explanatory resources that can be mustered
in explication of indigenous verbal fancies nor ob-
viate the possibility of advancing complementary
- or even alternative - interpretations. Within the
comparative contextual framework Forth has estab-
lished it becomes possible to assess the significance
of the encounter between the two species in differ-
ent terms. In this context the etiological intent in
respect of diurnality and nocturnality of this myth
cannot be dismissed and in no way does it vitiate
the indigenous ascription by so characterizing it.
The principle of analogy Forth (1992: 430) dis-
cerns at work ordering ideas in the tales he analyzes
operates also in the above text. There is, for in-
stance, the hint of an incipient opposition between
nature and culture in that as a natural corporeal
emission, the blood that spills out from Friarbird’s
head, contrasts with the charcoal that covers the
body of Crow, and which of course is a cultural
product resulting from cooking. Another contrast
may be witnessed in the different modes of ag-
gression employed by the two birds for whereas
Friarbird’s onslaught is carried out by means of a
gourd (which incidentally is another index of na-
ture) and draws blood, that of Crow merely consists
of rubbing (with the ashes). The result of these dif-
ferent applications of aggression is that whereas the
friarbird’s body is subjected to actual physical mu-
tilation the crow merely receives an (presumably)
unwelcome cosmetic adjustment to his body. Nev-
ertheless, unlike Friarbird, the only part of whose
body affected is the head, Crow’s entire body un-
dergoes transformation.
One recurrently pervasive contrast Forth elicits
concerns life and death. He demonstrates that the
narratives of Friarbird he analyzes form “a narrative
tradition that in some instances admits the origin
of death” (1992: 436), at the same time as showing
that they reveal “the primacy of the opposition of
night and day over that of death and life (birth).”
The contrast between death and life is undeveloped
in the above narrative, yet some indication may be
there all the same. Crow’s blackness links him with
Timorese associations regarding death; he feeds on
carrion; and he is a harbinger of death. However,
another finding Forth gleans from his analysis is
that in these tales life and death succeed each other
as part of a continuing cycle. This also secures con-
firmation in the Viqueque narrative. Crow succeeds
in bringing about the rapid alternation of day and
night he desires, a result consistent with Forth’s
comparative conclusion that the swifter cycle is
“a convenient way of accounting for the entrance
of death into a deathless world ... or of light into
a previously darkened universe” (1992: 436).10 The
lengthier cycle Friarbird wishes for is, on the other
hand, all of a piece with a longer duration of life
(and death).
Conclusions
The interest of the above version of the Friarbird
narrative lies in the singular qualities that differ-
entiate it from the other twelve versions that have
already been published, (a) We have here, for the
first time, a version in which it is Friarbird, not
his adversary, who is advocating the longer day/
longer night, (b) Again, and for the first time in
these narratives, Friarbird “loses” in the sense that
the temporal durations he wishes are not realized,
(c) Whereas the etiological meanings of the myth in
the other versions concern the origins of the lengths
of day and night and in some of the tales the rela-
tionship between death and life, local informants
characterized the myth as accounting solely for the
origin of the friarbird’s helmet and the large-billed
crow’s black color rather than the origin of the rela-
tive lengths of day and night, (d) Finally, according
to indigenous exegesis, there is no imputation of
victory or defeat on the part of either of the two
adversaries.
The text analyzed above, with the benefit of my
informants’ commentaries, further illuminates the
significance of this creature in Timorese collective
representations and makes it possible to view the
cumulative set of Friarbird narratives, which now
amount to thirteen tales, in a somewhat broader
perspective.
My original field research in East Timor in 1966-1967
was funded by the London Committee of the London-
Comell Project for East and South East Asian Studies
which was supported jointly by the Carnegie Corporation
of New York and the Nuffield Foundation. Subsequent
field research (1999 [on two occasions], 2001, and 2005)
has been funded by the following organizations, to each
10 It also is in accordance with one of the principal motifs of
Tetum religious thought, viz., “the cycle of life,” which I
have identified elsewhere (Hicks 1984: 7).
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
575
of whom I tender my gratitude: the American Philosoph-
ical Society and the J. William Fulbright Foreign Schol-
arship Board. I would also like to thank the following
for their assistance at various times in the preparation
of this paper: Mr. Constâncio Pinto (who suggested a
critical emendation to the original text), Mrs. Gabriella
Pinto, Mr. José Texeira, Mr. José Flenriques Pereira, and
Dona Rosa Maria da Costa Soares, who went over my
original text on July 2, 2005 while I was in the field, and
suggested several certain important improvements.
References Cited
Anonymous
2005 <http ://w w w. mampam. 5 Omegs. com/polillo/2001/
Images/Birdspeciesguide/pages/
Corvus%20macrorhynchos.htm>
Coates, Brian J., K. David Bishop, and Dana Gardner
1997 A Guide to the Birds of Wallacea. Sulawesi, Moluccas,
and Lesser Sunda Islands, Indonesia. Alderly: Dove Pub-
lications.
Costa, Luis
2000 Dicionario de Tetum-Portugues. Lisbon: Ed^oes Coli-
bri, Faculdade de letras da Universidade de Lisboa.
Dores, Raphael das
1907 Diccionario Teto-Portugues. Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional.
Forth, Gregory
1992 The Pigeon and the Friarbird. The Mythical Origin of
Death and Daylight in Eastern Indonesia. Anthropos 87:
423-441.
Hicks, David
1984 A Maternal Religion. The Role of Women in Tetum
Myth and Ritual. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University
Center for Southeast Asian Studies.
1997 Friarbird on Timor. Two Mambai Narratives of Avian
Rivalry. Anthropos 92: 198-200.
2004 Tetum Ghosts and Kin. Fertility and Gender in East
Timor. Prospect Heights: Waveland Press.
Hull, Geoffrey
1999 Standard Tetum-English Dictionary. St. Feonards: Allen
& Unwin.
Morris, Cliff
1984 Tetun-English Dictionary. Canberra; The Australian Na-
tional University.
Silva, Ramos da
n-d. Dicionario Tetum-Portugues.
Medium oder Message?
Wayang Kulit
zwischen Technik und Kunst
Annette Hornbacher
Das javanische Wayang Kulit sei “die Kathedrale
Javas”, ließ mich vor rund zehn Jahren der deutsch-
javanische Philosoph Franz Magnis-Suseno in Ja-
karta wissen. Gemeint war damals nicht nur der
Umstand, dass Wayang Kulit Aufführungen seit ih-
ren Anfängen zur Zeit der hindu-javanischen Kö-
nigreiche Gemeinschaft stiften, die architektoni-
sche Metapher zielte v. a. auf Art und Anlass dieser
Gemeinschaft. Das javanisch-balinesische Schat-
tenspiel ist ursprünglich - und auf Javas hinduis-
tischer Nachbarinsel Bali bis heute - eine rituel-
le Theaterform, die den mythischen Helden dich-
terischer Überlieferungen durch die flackernden
Schatten der flachen filigran gekerbten Lederpup-
pen, v. a. aber durch die mündliche Dichtung des
Dalang, des Schattenspielers, performativ Leben
und Gegenwart verleiht.
Die reflexive Anpassung mythischer Überlie-
ferungen in dieser mündlich-performativen Kunst
macht zugleich ihre ethische und Gemeinschaft
stiftende Qualität aus. In ihr gründet die Autorität
des Dalang und sie ist Gegenstand zahlreicher eth-
nologischer Untersuchungen geworden.
Die Besonderheit von Jan Mräzeks Buch “Phe-
nomenology of a Puppet Theatre. Contemplations
on the Art of Javanese wayang kulit”1 besteht nun
darin, die kulturgeschichtliche Herkunft des Schat-
tenspiels ebenso wie dessen rituelle und mythi-
sche Bedeutung weitgehend in den Hintergrund zu
rücken, um seine Beschreibung stattdessen ganz
auf das Schattenspiel als performative Technik und
besonders als Bewegungstechnik des Dalang zu
konzentrieren. Auch Mräzek bedient sich dabei
einer architektonischen Metapher. Diese weicht je-
doch in einem entscheidenden Punkt vom Bild
der “Kathedrale” ab: Wo dies die Gemeinschaft
stiftende Funktion des Wayang Kulit direkt mit
dessen religiös-ritueller Bedeutung assoziiert, ist
das Schattenspiel für Mräzek nur insofern “build-
ing” (8), als es ein vom Dalang kraft seiner tech-
nischen Fertigkeiten hervorgebrachtes Konstrukt
1 Mrazek, Jan: Phenomenology of a Puppet Theatre. Contem-
plations on the Art of Javanese wayang kulit. Leiden: KITLV
Press, 2005. 567 pp. ISBN 90-6718-252-4. (Verhandelingen
van het Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkun-
de, 230) Price: € 45.00.
Anthropos 101.2006
576
Berichte und Kommentare
verschiedener formalästhetisch beschreibbarer Ele-
mente ist, zu denen die Puppen und ihre Be-
wegungsmuster, ebenso aber auch die räumliche
Anordnung der Leinwand und die dramaturgische
Funktion von Musik und Geräuscheffekten zählen.
Der Autor verzichtet hingegen programmatisch
auf die detaillierte Auseinandersetzung mit der um-
fangreichen wissenschaftlichen - und nicht zuletzt
javanischen - Literatur zu diesem Thema (6, 8 f.)
und auch der Versuch, die javanische Sicht auf
das Wayang Kulit oder dessen Deutung durch
einheimische Akteure und Zuschauer wiederzuge-
ben, entspricht nicht seinem Interesse (13), das
sich ausschließlich auf seine “persönliche Begeg-
nung” (9) mit dieser Theaterform gründet. Folge-
richtig zitiert Mräzek die Fachliteratur oder ein-
heimische Quellen nur, sofern sie seine eigenen
“Kontemplationen” zum Wayang Kulit bestätigen,
die, wie er selbst einräumt, “my own way” (13)
sind und d. h. nicht zuletzt: vor dem Hintergrund
seiner Wissenstradition durchgeführt werden. Zen-
trale Autoritäten zur Erklärung von Puppentheater
und Kunst im Allgemeinen und von Wayang Kulit
im Besonderen sind ihm E. T. A. Hoffmann, Tho-
mas Mann, Antonin Artaud aber auch Martin Hei-
degger, John Dewey, Charles Taylor und Georg W.
Hegel - “to mention just a few” (13), die freilich
ohne Erläuterung ihres eigenen kulturgeschichtli-
chen Diskurszusammenhangs zitiert werden. Die-
sem postmodem anmutenden Patchwork entspricht
die methodische Grundannahme, derzufolge we-
niger die inhaltlich-semantischen - und insofern
auch mythisch-poetischen - Traditionen der javani-
schen Überlieferung dessen wahre Bedeutung aus-
machen als vielmehr seine Repräsentationstech-
niken, die dem formalästhetisch beschreibbaren
performativen Produktionsprozess des Dalangs ent-
sprechen (299ff.). Ohne dass Mräzek die bekannte
These von Norbert Wiener direkt aufgreifen würde,
kann hier dennoch von einer Ersetzung der “mes-
sage” - in diesem Fall: der mythisch-poetischen
Inhalte des Schattenspiels - durch deren techni-
sches “medium” die Rede sein. Mit dieser Wen-
dung lässt sich das Buch insgesamt jener perfor-
mativen Wende zuordnen, die als Rückzugsgefecht
der Repräsentationskrise einsetzte und als Versuch
beschrieben werden kann, deren erkenntnistheore-
tische Aporien - die ungewisse Repräsentierbar-
keit “des” Andern im Text - zu umgehen, oh-
ne auf ethnographische Beschreibungen verzichten
zu müssen. In diesem Sinn versucht auch Mrä-
zek, die mythischen oder symbolischen “Reprä-
sentationen” des Wayang Kulit durch die formal-
ästhetische Beschreibung performativer Techniken
zu ersetzen, wobei er sich zugleich von dem An-
spruch distanziert, die javanische Sicht auf das Wa-
yang Kulit wiederzugeben: “my work is in no way
a Translation’ of Javanese views of wayang, al-
though I do leam from them, and am often inspired
by them ...” (13). An die Stelle interkultureller
Übersetzung rückt so die Beschreibung des Wa-
yang Kulit als selbstreferentiellem performativem
“medium”, das nun zum Selbstzweck erklärt wird:
“I show how the wayang performance is enjoyed
as a journey, ‘for the delight of moving about and
seeing what we see’ ..(11).
Aber, was “sehen wir” eigentlich, wenn Mittel
und Zweck, “means and ends”, jeder Aufführung
nur noch in deren handwerklichem Ablauf liegen?
Bleibt man im Bilde des Bauwerks, so erscheint
Wayang Kulit nun als ein in sich abgeschlossenes,
aber auch leeres Gebäude, das ohne jeden Welt-
bezug und ohne die Kenntnis seines gesellschaft-
lichen und kulturellen Horizonts allein durch die
Funktionalität seiner Elemente verständlich werden
soll. Um diesen selbstreferentiellen Herstellungs-
prozess zu erläutern, werden im Verlauf der ers-
ten sieben Kapitel über rund 350 Seiten hinweg
verschiedene formalästhetische Elemente - von der
Form der Lederpuppen über eine bestimmte Be-
wegungsfolge bei Dalang und Puppe bis hin zu
musikalischen und musikdramaturgischen Aspek-
ten - minutiös, aber ohne Hinweis auf konkre-
te Aufführungen in ihrem je einzigartigen Zusam-
menhang und Weltbezug beschrieben. Das Wayang
Kulit wird so weitgehend als theoretisches Kon-
strukt einer ebenso formalen wie idealtypischen
Aufführung entworfen, und erst das letzte Drittel
des umfangreichen Buches ergänzt diese stark ver-
allgemeinernden “Kontemplationen” durch die Be-
schreibung neuer Aufführungsformen und Wand-
lungsprozesse.
In dieser Fokussierung der Aufführungstechnik
spiegelt sich nicht zuletzt die persönliche Ausbil-
dung des Autors in Gamelan und Schattenspiel.
Die dabei erworbenen handwerklichen Fertigkeiten
und Kenntnisse sind Leitfaden der theoretischen
Analyse und eröffnen durchaus Einblicke in ein-
zelne Details des Schattenspiels, wie z. B. die Be-
obachtung, dass die Gestalt der Lederpuppen einen
ästhetischen Kompromiss zwischen symbolischem
Bildgehalt und funktionalen Stabilitätsanforderun-
gen seitens des Dalang und seiner Aufführungs-
technik darstellt.
Dennoch stellt sich die Frage, ob über das java-
nische Wayang Kulit tatsächlich Wesentliches ge-
sagt wird oder gar dessen “wahre” Beschreibung
gelingt (2), wenn jeder Übersetzungsanspruch von
vornherein aufgegeben und dieses nur am Leitfaden
westlicher Kunstkonzepte und Begriffe behandelt
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
577
wird. So wirkt etwa der Versuch, über mehrere Sei-
ten hinweg die Schattenspielpuppe mit Hilfe von
E. T. A. Hoffmanns Thesen zur Automatenpuppe
zu erklären, eher bemüht und erweckt zudem den
Verdacht, hier werde keiner Seite Gerechtigkeit zu-
teil, da beide, höchst verschiedene Wissens- und
Darstellungstraditionen ohne Not aus ihrem jewei-
ligen Zusammenhang gerissen und zusammen ge-
zwungen werden. Seit Bob Scholtes Plädoyer für
eine ebenso selbstreflexive wie kooperative Ethno-
logie sollten sich intellektuelle Vereinnahmungs-
versuche dieser Art eigentlich von selbst verbieten,
zumal ihr Erkenntniswert fraglich bleibt.
Mräzek beruft sich jedoch, frei von solchen
Selbstreflexionen, auch zur Erläuterung seines me-
thodischen Ansatzes ohne weitere Begründung auf
Martin Heideggers Phänomenologie, die er als Weg
“zu den Sachen selbst”, d. h. zur unmittelbaren -
und eo ipso kulturtranszendenten - Wirklichkeit
des Wayang Kulit betrachtet (2). Problematisch ist
an diesem Verfahren nicht nur, dass die interkultu-
relle Geltung von Heideggers Theorie weder erör-
tert noch begründet wird, sondern v. a., dass Mrä-
zeks Umgang mit ihr auf einem Missverständnis
beruht. Während Mräzek das phänomenologische
Verfahren offenbar im oben erläuterten Sinn als Be-
schreibung der formalen Aufführungstechnik und
ihrer funktionalen Teile versteht, unterscheidet der
als Gewährsmann für dieses Vorgehen herangezo-
gene Heidegger in “Sein und Zeit” ausdrücklich
zwischen der Beschreibung dessen, was - schein-
bar unmittelbar - als Fakt vor Augen liegt und dem,
Was an einer Erscheinung verborgen und erst der
phänomenologischen Untersuchung zugänglich ist.
Nach Heidegger erfüllt sich Phänomenologie je-
doch nicht in formalen Beschreibungen der einzel-
nen Teile eines Funktionszusammenhangs, sondern
erst dort, wo mit Hilfe des Logos, der Sprache, das
Verborgene am Phänomen als dessen “Sein” ver-
standen wird. Dies zu erfassen setzt jedoch nach
Heidegger die hermeneutische Auslegung des je-
weils geschichtlichen Weltentwurfs, von dem her
ein Phänomen ist, was es ist, voraus.
Diese systematische Verknüpfung von Phäno-
menologie und Hermeneutik, Phänomen und Welt-
bezug in Heideggers Philosophie übergeht Mräzeks
selbstreferentielles und formalästhetisches Konzept
von Wayang Kulit ebenso wie den spezifischen
Weltbezug der javanischen Kunst. Dadurch befin-
det sich Mräzeks Ansatz gewissermaßen konstitu-
tiv in einem Selbstwiderspruch, der sich in seinem
ungeklärten Verhältnis zu dem von ihm weitge-
hend in westlichen Kategorien “kontemplierten”
Sachverhalt, dem javanischen Schattenspiel, spie-
gelt. Der Versuch, die Bedeutung des Wayang Ku-
lit ganz in dessen, scheinbar unmittelbarer Per-
formance zu finden, stiftet darum - obscurum
per obscurum kontemplierend - zweifach Verwir-
rung. Analoges wiederholt sich bei der Anwendung
von Heideggers Kunstwerkaufsatz und einem darin
erörterten Beispiel: den von van Gogh gemalten
Bauemschuhen, auf die javanischen Schattenspiel-
figuren (51 ff.). Auch hier wird die Bedeutung der
javanischen Figuren im Rückgriff auf Heideggers
Kunstwerktheorie erschlossen, ohne deren eige-
nen Gedankengang zu berücksichtigen. Indem er
die Zweckmäßigkeit der Bauernschuhe mit der in-
strumenteilen Zweckmäßigkeit der Puppen für den
Dalang identifiziert, versucht Mräzek abermals sei-
ne These zu stützen, dass nicht der poetische oder
narrative Sinngehalt, der sich u. a. in der Ikonogra-
phie der Lederpuppen manifestiert, deren Bedeu-
tung ausmacht, sondern einzig ihre instrumentelle
Brauchbarkeit für bestimmte theatralisch effekt-
volle Bewegungsabläufe in der Hand des Dalang.
Die Puppe, zentraler Aspekt des Wayang Kulit als
Kunstform, wird hier analog den Bauernschuhen
zum Werkzeug erklärt. Dabei verwechselt Mräzek
jedoch die - für Heideggers Kunstwerktheorie ent-
scheidende - Differenz zwischen instrumentellem
“Zeug” und künstlerischem “Werk” - oder bezo-
gen auf van Goghs Bild; zwischen den im bäuer-
lichen Alltag genutzten Schuhen und ihrer künst-
lerischen Darstellung durch van Gogh. Die Pointe
von Heideggers Kunstwerkaufsatz besteht nun ge-
rade darin, dass Schuhe, die in ihrer instrumen-
tellen Zweckmäßigkeit und Verlässlichkeit nie ei-
gens zu Bewusstsein gelangen, erst im Kunstwerk
- und damit jenseits instrumenteller Bestimmun-
gen - ihre Bedeutung, d. h. ihren Bezug zu ihrer,
in diesem Fall bäuerlichen, Welt enthüllen. Wäh-
rend der instrumente!! nutzbare Gegenstand inner-
halb einer fraglos vorgegebenen Welt funktioniert,
ohne diese reflexiv zu Bewusstsein zu bringen,
ist das Kunstwerk dort, wo es diesen Gegen-
stand jenseits aller Zweckmäßigkeit zeigt, poeti-
sches “Ins-Werk-Setzen-der-Wahrheit”, weil es die
Wahrnehmung von dessen im Alltag übersehe-
nen Weltzusammenhang eröffnet. Kunstwerk und
phänomenologisch-hermeneutische Analyse ent-
sprechen einander demnach in ihrem reflexiv-
geschichtlichen Bezug auf die Welt, und daher ist
nach Heidegger besonders die Kunst nie durch jene
abstrakt definierbaren ästhetischen Funktionen zu
erfassen, die die gegenständliche Seite eines Werks
ausmachen, sondern nur im Blick auf ihren eminent
geschichtlichen Charakter, d. h. in ihrer Fähigkeit,
eine je besondere Welt zu eröffnen.
Mräzeks formalistische Deutung des Wayang
Kulit ignoriert also nicht nur javanische Interpre-
Vnhropos 101.2006
578
Berichte und Kommentare
tationen und Konzepte, sie kann sich ebenso wenig
auf Heideggers Kunstwerkbegriff oder auf dessen
Phänomenologieverständnis berufen, weil sie den
Weltbezug des Schattenspiels - wie er z. B. im
performativ variablen Verhältnis von Aufführung
und Situation oder Publikum deutlich würde - aus-
blendet. Umgekehrt lässt sich eine performative
Kunstform wie das Wayang Kulit auf Grund die-
ser Wechselbeziehung nicht hinreichend als forma-
le “Montage” verschiedener allgemeiner Techniken
verstehen, so spannend andererseits im Blick auf
einzelne Aufführungen ein Vergleich mit Heideg-
gers These sein könnte, wonach “Kunst” als “Dich-
tung” “Welt” und “Geschichte” eröffne.
Dieser geschichtlichen, das Publikum und seine
Welt einbeziehenden Deutung performativer Kunst
bleibt Mräzeks Beschreibung des Schattenspiels
als selbstreferentieller Ablauf aber konstitutiv äu-
ßerlich und eben darin nimmt sein theoretischer
Ansatz die im Schlussteil besprochene aktuelle Ver-
äußerlichung des Wayang Kulit zur rein kommer-
ziellen Massenshow bereits vorweg. Der Transfor-
mation zum multimedialen Spektakel, in dem - je
nach Laune der Geldgeber - unterschiedliche Star-
und Politikerauftritte vorgesehen sind, entspricht
die Verwandlung des Dalangs vom kreativen Ver-
mittler zwischen mythischer Überlieferung und Si-
tuation zum Moderator dessen, was einem Massen-
publikum als “modern” gilt: Karaoke, Rockmusik
und parodistische Einlagen (403 ff.). Bezeichnend
erscheint es jedoch, dass Mräzek, der diesen radi-
kalen Wandel in Erscheinung und Weltbezug des
Schattenspiels beschreibt, ihn nur als quantitative,
nicht aber als qualitative Neuerung beurteilt (428).
So steht zuletzt das Urteil des Autors, der auch
Kommerzialisierung und Showauftritte als konti-
nuierliche Fortentwicklung des Wayang Kulit und
seiner seit je montierten performativen Techniken
versteht, unvermittelt gegen die, eher beiläufig und
anonym zitierte, Meinung vieler Javaner, die in die-
sem Wandel keine Fortsetzung, sondern nur noch
die Zerstörung des Wayang Kulit erkennen (415).
Diese emische Differenzierung sollte zu denken
geben - zeigt sie doch, dass das einheimische Pu-
blikum offenbar über analytische Unterscheidungs-
kriterien zwischen einer echten Wayang Kulit Auf-
führung und einer bloßen Show verfügt, die der
Forscher - um den Preis eigener theoretischer Un-
bestimmtheit - ignoriert.
So bleibt als Fazit: Das Buch von Mräzek
eröffnet - anders als der rühmende Klappentext
verspricht - keine tieferen Einblicke in das java-
nische Wayang Kulit, da es an methodischen Ge-
lenkstellen eklektisch auf verschiedenste abendlän-
dische Theorieansätze und Begriffe zurückgreift,
ohne diese in ein selbstreflexives Verhältnis zur
fremden Wissensform und Ästhetik zu bringen.
Trotz durchaus interessanter Einzelbeobachtungen
fällt das Buch deutlich hinter den selbstkritischen
Anspruch der modernen und postmodemen Ethno-
logie zurück und auch der Hinweis, es als Roman
zu lesen, kann darüber nicht wirklich hinweg-
trösten, zumal die vielen assoziativ zusammenge-
tragenen Zitate abendländischer Philosophie und
Dichtung eine eher weitschweifige Lektüre besche-
ren und die unzureichend durchdrungene Theorie
Martin Heideggers mehr Verwirrung als Erhellung
stiftet.
Seine Stärken entfaltet das Buch also nicht in
theoretisch-philosophischen “Kontemplationen”,
sondern am ehesten in konkreten Einzelbeschrei-
bungen die Musik des Wayang Kulit oder dessen
aktuelle Transformation zum Massenspektakel
betreffend.
Im Ganzen mutet das Buch damit selbst als Ge-
bäude an, dessen anspruchsvollen und bemerkens-
werten Elementen der konstruktive Zusammenhalt
- und d. h. auch die interkulturelle Tragfähigkeit -
fehlt.
Ethnologie in Text und Bild
Zum “dtv-Atlas Ethnologie”
Christoph Antweiler und Corinne Neudorfer
Die bekannten dtv-Atlanten haben die Aufgabe, in
kompakter, aber verständlicher Weise einen mög-
lichst sachlichen Überblick über ein Themenfeld
bzw. eine Disziplin zu geben. Auf Doppelseiten
stehen Farbgrafiken oder Karten gleichberechtigt
neben dem Text. Die Abbildungen sind entweder
eng auf den Text bezogen oder sollen eigenständig
und aus sich heraus verständlich sein. Dieses Prin-
zip muss für verschiedene Fachgebiete adaptiert
werden. Deshalb sind die bislang 30 dtv-Atlanten
durchaus unterschiedlich konzipiert, wie ein Ver-
gleich des Biologie-Atlas, inzwischen längst ein
Klassiker, etwa mit dem dtv-Atlas für Philosophie
zeigt.
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
579
Ein wichtiges und mutiges Unternehmen
Wir finden an Dieter Hallers “dtv-Atlas Ethnolo-
gie” 1 vieles sehr gut und manches verbesserungs-
würdig. Zunächst ist aber herauszustellen, dass es
eine äußerst schwierige Aufgabe ist, ein solches
Buch zu schreiben. Einführungen und Übersichts-
werke bringen einem Autor gerade in der deutsch-
sprachigen Ethnologie weniger Reputation als Spe-
zialstudien. Als Aufgabe sind sie aber oft viel an-
spruchsvoller! Hier muss systematisiert, reduziert
und klar geschrieben werden. Da weiß man schon
vorher, dass die lieben Kollegen nur darauf warten,
auf den Autor einzudreschen. Kein Wunder, dass
es im deutschsprachigen Raum kaum eine echte
Einführung und kein echtes Lehrbuch der Ethno-
logie gibt. Solche Bücher machen enorme Arbeit,
erfordern langes Durchhalten und bringen dem
Autor dennoch kaum Dank. In diesem Fall kommt
die zusätzliche Aufgabe der Visualisierung oft
schwieriger Sachverhalte hinzu. Das ist nicht zu un-
terschätzen ! Deshalb ist der Mut zu bewundern, den
Dieter Haller hatte, ein solches langjähriges Pro-
jekt überhaupt in Angriff zu nehmen. Ein solches
Buch hat eine sachliche Rezension verdient, anders
als etwa der Totalverriss von Johan Schloemann in
der Süddeutschen Zeitung (21.11. 2005), der vor
lauter Grafikfeindlichkeit kaum auf den Inhalt des
Buchs einging. Angesichts der Schwierigkeit, ein
solches Buch zu machen, stellen wir nach einer kur-
zen Inhaltsangabe zunächst bewusst die Stärken des
Buchs in den Mittelpunkt und zeigen erst danach
einige Mängel auf.
Aufbau und Besonderheiten
üie Grundanlage folgt dem Doppelseitenprinzip,
aber in einigen Kapiteln gibt es auch doppelte Text-
seiten. Eine Besonderheit gegenüber anderen dtv-
Atlanten stellen die kurzen Begriffserläuterungen
m blau unterlegten Kästen dar. Der Atlas hat drei-
zehn Kapitel, die sich thematisch in sechs Blöcke
unterteilen lassen. Der Einstieg in die Ethnologie
(Einführung) erfolgt über die Einordnung der Dis-
ziplin und eine allgemeine Begriffsbestimmung.
Neben einer historischen Verortung und der Dar-
stellung der Arbeitsgebiete geht Haller ebenfalls
auf “Sinn und Nutzen” und damit die gesellschaft-
liche Relevanz der Disziplin ein. Der nächste Block
1 Haller, Dieter: dtv-Atlas Ethnologie. Mit 127 Abbildungs-
seiten in Farbe. Grafische Gestaltung der Abbildungen von
Bernd Rodekohr. München: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag,
2005, 307 pp. ISBN 3-423-03259-6. Preis; € 19.50.
stellt verschiedene theoretische Ansätze dar, wobei
Haller eine Einteilung in klassische grand théories,
nationale Ansätze (Frankreich, Russland usw.) so-
wie neuere theoretische Strömungen des 20. Jahr-
hunderts vornimmt. Hierauf baut der Abschnitt
“Anwendung und Missbrauch” auf, indem ethische
und praxisrelevante Fragestellungen der Ethnolo-
gie diskutiert werden. Hier werden neben den klas-
sischen ethnologischen Debatten (US-Kulturrelati-
vismus, Nationalismus, Fremdenfurcht und Rassis-
mus) auch fächerübergreifend anwendungsbezoge-
ne Probleme der Soziobiologie und Genetik sowie
der Organisationskulturforschung behandelt.
Ein weiteres Großkapitel widmet Haller der Klä-
rung von “Grundbausteinen”, also all jenen Kon-
zepten der Ethnologie wie Ethnizität, Prozess und
Struktur, Identität, Raum, die für das Verständnis
der Disziplin und ihrer methodischen Arbeitswei-
sen wesentlich sind. Diese “Arbeitsweisen” sind
Thema des nächsten Blockes. Haller geht auf die
Grundmerkmale sowie Ablauf und Organisation
der klassischen Feldforschung ein, stellt qualitati-
ve und quantitative Methoden gegenüber und gibt
Anhaltspunkte zur ethnologischen Darstellungs-
weise und Datenpräsentation - sowohl beim ethno-
graphischen Schreiben als auch im Rahmen einer
Museumsausstellung oder eines ethnographischen
Films.
Der letzte Block, der die verschiedenen sachli-
chen Felder bzw. Teilgebiete der Ethnologie ein-
zeln vorstellt, nimmt etwa die Hälfte des Buches
ein. Hier hat Haller eine Auswahl unter den vielen
Teilgebieten getroffen. Die Themengebiete Wirt-
schaft, Gesellschaft, Politik und Recht, Verwandt-
schaft, Religion sowie Kommunikation und Aus-
druck beinhalten jeweils eine kurze Einführung
sowie eine systematische Darstellung der Grund-
begriffe. Neben einem Abbildungsnachweis und ei-
nem kombinierten Quellen- und Literaturverzeich-
nis sind drei Register beigefügt, eines zu Personen,
eines zu Ländern, Sprachen, Religionen und Eth-
nien und eines zu Sachen.
Die größte Besonderheit des Buchs auf dem
deutschsprachigen ethnologischen Buchmarkt sind
natürlich die Farbgrafiken. Anders als etwa in der
Geographie und Biologie spielen Visualisierungen
in der Ethnologie nur in Teilbereichen eine tra-
gende Rolle, z. B. in der Verwandtschaftsethnolo-
gie und der Kulturökologie. Ethnologen greifen zur
Veranschaulichung ihrer Texte eher auf Fotogra-
fien oder auf Filmmaterial zurück. Mancher Fach-
kollege sieht solche Schemata mit gemischten Ge-
fühlen. Somit haben sich Haller und der Grafiker
Bernd Rodekohr mit dem Versuch, möglichst viele
Bereiche der Ethnologie mittels Schemata, Pikto-
Anthropos 101.2006
580
Berichte und Kommentare
grammen und Tabellen darzustellen, keiner leichten
Aufgabe gestellt.
Dieser Atlas hat ein deutlich größeres Format
als die meisten bisherigen dtv-Atlanten, die mehr-
heitlich Taschenbuchformat hatten. Da der Text und
auch die Abbildungstexte sehr klein gesetzt sind,
enthält das Buch so viel Information, wie sonst
die zwei- oder dreibändigen unter den dtv-Atlanten
(z. B. Biologie, Baukunst). Im Vergleich zu ande-
ren dtv-Atlanten sind die Grafiken im Stil recht
variantenreich. Auch die Form der Tabelle wird in
vielfältiger Weise kreativ genutzt. Eine grafische
Besonderheit ist die Hinterlegung vieler Tabellen
mit großflächigen Piktogrammen. Im Vergleich zu
dtv-Atlanten, die von der Darstellungsproblematik
nahe liegen, wie dem dtv-Atlas Philosophie und
dem Psychologieatlas, sind die Grafiken hier ins-
gesamt deutlich komplexer.
Stärken
Dieses Buch ist sehr reichhaltig und hat einige
besondere Stärken in Inhalt und Gestaltung. Zu-
nächst wird durchgehend den Schnittfeldem zu an-
deren Disziplinen oder Interdisziplinen wie etwa
der Volkskunde und den Cultural Studies deutlich
mehr Raum gegeben als in anderen deutschspra-
chigen Einführungs- und Übersichtswerken. Auch
bei den einzelnen Teilgebieten werden durchge-
hend Anschlüsse oder Bezüge zu anderen Diszipli-
nen hergestellt. Eine weitere Stärke des Atlas ist die
Mischung allgemeiner Themen mit exemplarischen
Beispielen. Das ist angesichts der fachlichen Be-
sonderheit der Ethnologie eine sinnvolle Innovation
innerhalb der dtv-Atlanten.
Die Abschnitte zu “Betrachtungsweisen” (SÖ-
ST, z. B. Struktur vs. Prozess), sind schön über-
sichtlich und regen zum Mitdenken an. In den Ka-
piteln zu Theorien (38-72) werden sowohl klassi-
sche Ansätze als auch neuere Theorien vorgestellt.
Die Vernetzung ethnologischer Schulen wird kaum
sonst so übersichtlich dargestellt wie in diesem
Buch (50, 54). Der Band stellt auch nationale Eth-
nologietraditionen vor (54-59), die in vergleich-
baren Büchern ganz fehlen. Bei den “Grundbau-
steinen” werden klassische Dauerbrenner wie etwa
Struktur und Ethnizität, aber auch aktuelle Themen
wie z. B. Körper, Zeit und Migration behandelt. Die
Auswahl der vier Teilgebiete aus der ausufemden
Vielfalt ist sinnvoll. Auch unter den Einzelthemen,
die in den Teilgebietskapiteln behandelt werden,
sind viele aktuell. Das macht das Buch sehr anre-
gend. Es ist Haller insgesamt besonders gut gelun-
gen, dass der Atlas nicht nur einen Überblick über
den Forschungsgegenstand des Faches gibt, son-
dern auch Bezüge zu gesellschaftlichen Fragestel-
lungen und dem “Nutzen” von einer Wissenschaft,
die sich mit Kultur beschäftigt, hergestellt werden.
Ethnologie wird nicht als ein exotisches Orchi-
deenfach dargestellt, sondern als eine gesellschaft-
lich relevante Humanwissenschaft. Ferner werden
bei den schon angesprochenen nationalen Ethno-
logietraditionen auch außereuropäische nationale
Traditionen (Brasilien, Japan, Indien, Native An-
thropology) und auch die ethnologische Forschung
im Heimatland der Forscher {Anthropology at
Home) berücksichtigt. Dadurch wird deutlich, dass
Ethnologie nicht mehr eine Disziplin ist, in der sich
nur euroamerikanische Wissenschaftler mit exoti-
schen Fremden befassen. In Indien beispielsweise
setzen sich Ethnologen auch mit der eigenen Ge-
sellschaft auseinander. Dieser Aspekt wird dadurch
unterstrichen, dass viele Beispiele aus dem euro-
amerikanischen Raum herangezogen werden, etwa
wenn als Beispiel für symbolische Anthropopha-
gie das christliche Abendmahl genannt wird (107).
Haller scheut auch nicht vor den dunklen Kapiteln
der Fachgeschichte zurück, z. B. mit zwei Seiten
zur Völkerkunde im Nationalsozialismus (60-61).
Haller zeigt also nicht nur den Gegenstand des
Fachs selbst, sondern bezieht auch die Forschenden
und das Fach mit all seinen Krisen und Proble-
men mit ein. Dies ist ein wesentlicher Unterschied
etwa zum “dtv-Atlas Weltgeschichte”, der einen
Überblick über den Gegenstandsbereich der Ge-
schichte gibt. Dadurch musste der Autor zwangs-
läufig eine objektive Haltung aufgeben und sich
kritisch positionieren. Er bemängelt etwa, dass die
Rolle der Völkerkunde im Nationalsozialismus in
der deutschsprachigen Ethnologie nur wenig Be-
achtung fand.
Viele Kapitel sind anregend; manche Abschnit-
te echt geistreich. Geradezu humoristisch ist z. B.
die Gegenüberstellung von Funktionalismus und
Strukturfunktionalismus (48). Der Leser erfährt
nicht nur, dass die beiden Gründerväter dieser
theoretischen Ausrichtungen sich charakteristisch
sehr ähnlich waren (beide zeichnen sich dadurch
aus, dass sie egomanisch, dogmatisch, prophe-
tisch waren und “Supermann-Ambitionen” hatten),
sondern dass ihre theoretischen Ansätze jeweils
einen unterschiedlichen Blick auf ein und dassel-
be Feld erlaubten, das in der Abbildung durch ei-
ne Trobriand-Insel, das Meer, eine Menschenmasse
sowie eine weit entfernte Insel dargestellt ist. Wäh-
rend Malinowski die Funktion eines Rituals der
Trobriand-Insulaner vor Antritt einer Handelsreise
darin sieht, dass die Angst vor der Reise beseitigt
werden soll, besteht der Sinn desselben Rituals für
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
581
Radcliffe-Brown darin, Angst vor den Gefahren der
Reise herzustellen. Natürlich werden hier theoreti-
sche Ansätze sehr stark vereinfacht - aber dadurch
wird verdeutlicht, wie Theorie den Blick des For-
schers lenkt und unterschiedliche Fragestellungen
und Ergebnisse aufkommen lässt.
Die Grafiken sind vielfach einleuchtend und aus
sich heraus verständlich, einige sind echte High-
lights. Sehr informativ sind z. B. die netzwerk-
ähnlichen Darstellungen verschiedener ethnologi-
scher Vertreter mitsamt ihrer Schulen und Einflüsse
(42 für die deutsche Völkerkunde, 46 für die US-
amerikanische Cultural Anthropology). Bei vielen
Grafiken wird die Farbe sinnvoll eingesetzt, z. B.
in den Abbildungen zur Sozialethnologie. Scha-
de, dass sich ausgerechnet hier einer der wenigen
Druckfehler eingeschlichen hat, der im Vergleich
verschiedener Verwandtschaftssysteme jedem Ego
zwei Väter, jedoch keine Mutter verpasste (214).
Viele Abbildungsseiten enthalten Tabellen, die oft
mit viel Überlegung angelegt sind. Eine gute Idee
ist es, dass wichtige Personen oder zentrale Werke
in Tabellen zusammengestellt sind (z. B. 22, 24).
Die Register des Bands sind sehr detailliert und gut
aufgeteilt, so dass das Buch auch als Nachschlage-
werk verwendbar ist. Neben diesen Stärken sehen
wir aber auch Schwächen sowohl im Grundsätzli-
chen, als auch in vielen Einzelheiten, auch in den
Grafiken.
Ziele und Leserschaft
Die grundsätzlichen Probleme hängen in erster
Linie mit der unklaren Zielstellung zusammen. Zu-
nächst ist die angepeilte Leserschaft nicht klar.
Besteht die intendierte Leserschaft in Anfängern
°der fortgeschrittenen Studierenden oder eher in
Wissenschaftlern anderer Fächer? Welchen Cha-
rakter soll das Werk haben? Soll der Atlas ein
Einführungs- oder ein Übersichtswerk sein oder
geht es um Fachkritik und die Konzeption zukunfts-
hächtiger Ausrichtungen? Diese Unklarheit zeigt
sich auch im Schreibstil. Hallers Text schwankt
!mmer wieder zwischen für Anfänger sehr gut
Wrständlichen Passagen einerseits und spezialisti-
Schen Anmerkungen andererseits. So enthält schon
die erste Seite zum Kulturbegriff einige Bemerkun-
gen, die für Novizen schlicht ungenießbar sind.
Die Darstellung der Fachgeschichte endet mit
einem leidenschaftlichen Aufruf: “Es gilt, jetzt Ent-
scheidungen zu treffen und Partei zu nehmen - mit
dem Wissen über die Trivialität menschl. Tuns
lrn Hinterkopf, das nun einmal bezeichnend für das
Each ist” (27). An wen richtet sich dieser Aufruf?
Anthropos 101.2006
Hier stellt sich die Frage nach dem eigentlichen
Zielpublikum. Der Aufbau des Buches sowie der
Titel lassen vermuten, dass sich der Atlas an Stu-
dierende, und vielleicht auch wissenschaftlich in-
teressierte Nichtethnologen richtet, wie etwa Jour-
nalisten. Aussagen wie oben zitierte lassen jedoch
auch einen anderen Schluss zu, nämlich dass sich
das Buch vor allem an Fachvertreter oder andere
Wissenschaftler richtet. Einen ähnlichen Hinweis
gibt das Vorwort des Autors, indem er “Kritiker
aus Nachbardisziplinen” und andere Wissenschaft-
ler, die ihre spezifische Richtung unterrepräsentiert
sehen, einlädt, das Gespräch mit dem Autor zu
suchen.
Der Abschnitt über die Fachgeschichte der Eth-
nologie endet mit einem Sprung von den USA
hin zur deutschen Ethnologie, es werden Instituts-
und Mitgliederzahlen aufgelistet. Daraufhin folgt
die Darstellung der Ethnologie als Massenfach an
deutschen Universitäten sowie die prekäre Situa-
tion junger Ethnologen bei der Suche nach siche-
ren Arbeitsplätzen. Im nächsten Absatz widmet
sich Haller der “Entzauberung des Machbarkeits-
und Fortschrittsglaubens” und Theoriebildung in
Frankreich (27), auf das ein gesellschaftskritisches
Fazit und ein entsprechendes Plädoyer für eine kri-
tische Ethnologie folgt.
Als problematisch erweisen sich Darstellungen
und Tabellen, bei denen die Aussage nicht eindeu-
tig ist, wie bei der Gegenüberstellung von Ethnolo-
gen und Reisenden (24). Ethnologen zeichnen sich
laut der Abbildung durch “tiefes Verstehen” der be-
suchten Region sowie “effektive Kommunikation”
aus, wohingegen den Reisenden grundsätzlich ei-
ne rassistische Haltung unterstellt wird. Reisende,
so erklärt die Tafel, “erwähnen oft die Rolle von
Hautfarbe und sprechen häufig aus einer rassisti-
schen Position heraus”. Nun wird nicht klar, ob sich
diese Behauptung auf tatsächliche empirische Be-
funde stützt (was bezweifelt werden darf), oder ob
es sich bei der Gegenüberstellung von Ethnologen
und Reisenden mehr um ein Wunsch-Selbstbild der
Ethnologen handelt. Es gibt Unterschiede zwischen
Ethnologen und Reisenden nicht zuletzt auch in der
Zielsetzung und Vorgehensweise. Eine Gegenüber-
stellung, die den verstehenden und sensiblen Eth-
nologen einem rassistischen und uninteressierten
Reisenden entgegensetzt, erscheint für einen Über-
blick in die Aufgaben des Faches stark oberfläch-
lich.
Haller stellt hier den ethnologischen Forscher
als eine außergewöhnliche Person dar, deren ethno-
logische Fähigkeiten mehr Bestandteil seiner Per-
sönlichkeit denn in der universitären Ausbildung
erlernt sind. Dieses Bild wird von Hallers Aus-
582
Berichte und Kommentare
führungen zur Persönlichkeit des Ethnologen (19)
noch unterstützt. Nicht nur, dass sich zukünftige
Ethnologen bereits in ihrer Kindheit durch “Risi-
kofreude, Reise- und Abenteuerlust” sowie durch
“Liebe zur Vielfalt menschl. Daseins” auszeichnen.
Oft sind Ethnologen zusätzlich durch eine margi-
nale Rolle in ihrer eigenen Gesellschaft geprägt.
Diese Erfahrung von Fremdheit ist es, die das In-
teresse an fremden Gesellschaften weckt. Durch die
Thematisierung der Persönlichkeit des Ethnologen
schafft Haller zum einen eine konkrete Verbindung
zwischen der Ethnologie und ihrem Hauptthema
Fremdheit. Da es jedoch, wie Haller selbst schreibt,
keine überzeugenden Statistiken über einen Zusam-
menhang zwischen einer erfolgreichen ethnologi-
schen Karriere und der Marginalität des Forschers
gibt, ist es fraglich, ob solche Spekulationen in
einem Überblick über die Ethnologie wirklich not-
wendig sind, oder ob sie nicht vielmehr einen My-
thos von der eigentümlichen Spezies “Ethnologe”
zementieren.
Ungleichgewichtigkeiten, Lücken und Formales
Das Buch zeigt einige Ungleichgewichtigkeiten,
die nicht einfach durch begrenzten Umfang er-
klärt werden können, denn dieses 300-Seiten-Werk
bringt allein 25 Seiten zum Thema Kommunikation
und fast 30 Seiten Religion. Die Ungleichgewichte
hängen teilweise mit der Zersplitterung des Fachs,
aber auch mit den Interessen und der Meinungs-
freudigkeit des Autors zusammen. Auf letztere ge-
hen wir weiter unten noch ein.
Ethnologie in Museen findet in diesem Buch
kaum statt (150-151). Wir erfahren kaum etwas
über das wissenschaftlich aktuelle wie gesellschaft-
lich relevante Gebiet der Kulturökologie (62, 135),
dafür aber fünf Seiten über das Thema Zeit (110—
115). Die gesamte anwendungs- bzw. praxisori-
entierte Ethnologie wird in wenigen kurzen Ab-
schnitten abgehandelt. Die Aktionsethnologie wird
in zwei Sätzen erst einmal abgewatscht und später
nur noch mal kurz angetippt. Wenig bis gar keine
Beachtung finden die Minderheitenunterstützung
und die Entwicklungsethnologie. Im Kapitel zu Ar-
beitsweisen werden partizipative Methoden noch
nicht einmal erwähnt. Die internationale Diskussi-
on um Definition und Rechtsstatus indigener Völ-
ker kommt genauso wenig vor wie etwa das Thema
Ferntourismus. Das Thema Berufsethik nimmt eine
Abbildung und 13 Zeilen ein (149). Die Themen
“Entwicklung” und “Indigene” kommen noch nicht
mal im Register vor. Hier liegen außerdem potenti-
elle Forschungs- und Berufsfelder für Ethnologin-
nen und Ethnologen und sie sollten gerade deswe-
gen mit aufgenommen werden. Unter den poten-
tiellen Leserinnen würden sich vor allem viele Stu-
dierende für solche aktuellen Themen interessieren.
Dies sind zentrale Themen nicht nur für die ange-
wandte Ethnologie, sondern sie haben theoretische
Relevanz. Die regionale Ethnologie fehlt völlig -
und das in einem “Atlas”. Unseres Erachtens ist
hier das deterritorialisierte Kulturkonzept deutlich
überzogen worden.
Andererseits wird für eine Überblickspublika-
tion extrem stark auf Lücken des Faches und noch
zu führende Diskussionen hingewiesen. So scheint
Haller sich eine Debatte über die Sexualität von
Ethnologen während der Feldforschung sowie über
mehr teilnehmende Beobachtung in diesem Be-
reich zu wünschen (103). Auch die Nacht als For-
schungsgebiet ist in der Ethnologie noch nicht be-
rücksichtigt worden, aber eben diese Tatsache füllt
bei Haller volle zwei Seiten (114-115) aus. Muss
ein Überblick das leisten? Sicher sind solche The-
men wichtig und müssen diskutiert werden, die
Frage ist nur ob ein dtv-Atlas der richtige Ort für
solche fachintemen Debatten ist. Dies gilt vor allem
vor dem Hintergrund, dass Haller wichtige Themen
wie etwa die tatsächlichen Beschäftigungs- und Be-
rufsfelder von Ethnologen auch außerhalb der Uni-
versität - die es tatsächlich gibt! - auslässt.
Der Text hat einige formale Uneinheitlichkeiten.
Haller erläutert die Sachverhalte in der Regel kurz
und präzise. An anderen Stellen ist die Darstellung
dagegen extrem detailliert und referiert teilwei-
se fast wörtlich aus Spezialuntersuchungen (z. B.
die neun “anthropologisch-historischen Modalitä-
ten der Raumaneignung” und die sieben “psycho-
logischen Modalitäten der Raumaneignung”, 129).
Das running glossary in den blauen unterlegten
Textkästchen ist eine gute Idee, weil das vor allem
Anfängern das Verständnis des Texts erleichtern
kann. Leider wird sie aber völlig unsystematisch
durchgeführt. Mal werden Begriffe erläutert, wo-
bei der Terminus manchmal gefettet ist, manchmal
nicht (z. B. 221). An anderen Stellen wird in den
blauen Kästen nur etwas inhaltlich besonders be-
tont, z. B., dass es keine Rassen gibt (83). Einge-
rückte Abschnitte bringen zumeist Beispiele, was
auch eine gute Strukturierungsidee ist. An anderen
Stellen werden Einrückungen aber auch für Anmer-
kungen oder für begriffliche Detaillierungen ver-
wendet, was verwirrt (z. B. 113).
Im Gegensatz zu den sehr guten Registern ist
das “Literatur- und Quellenverzeichnis” (284-290)
lang, aber recht lieblos gemacht. Es bringt aus-
schließlich Angaben zu Abbildungsquellen sowie
im Text verwendeten oder genannten Werken. Da
Anthropos 101.2006
Berichte und Kommentare
583
oft ältere Werke oder ältere Auflagen von Lehrbü-
chern benutzt wurden, findet der Leser in diesem
Buch kaum Hinweise auf neuere Basisliteratur. Der
Abschnitt “Allgemeine Nachschlagewerke” enthält
tatsächlich neben Wörterbüchern, Lexika und En-
zyklopädien auch Einführungen und Lehrbücher.
Der Abschnitt “Einführung” nennt Werke von
1908, 1945, 1952, 1974 und als neuesten Titel ein
Buch von 1997. Fast alle wichtigen neueren eng-
lischsprachigen Einführungs- und Lehrbücher feh-
len. Selbst die deutschsprachigen an den Unis viel
verwendeten Werke fehlen (etwa die Einführung
von Karl-Heinz Kohl) oder werden in uralten Auf-
lagen zitiert (der von Hans Fischer und Bettina Beer
edierte Überblicksband in einer Auflage von 1983).
Meinungslastigkeit
Oft wird nicht klar, was der Atlas sein soll. Hal-
ler hält rhetorisch das Genre der Lexikonbeiträ-
ge und Atlanten nicht ein, ist streckenweise we-
nig sachlich; er bezieht Stellung, wird persönlich.
So gerät vieles arg ungleichgewichtig und etliche
Passagen fallen reichlich tendenziös aus, statt den
Stand der Forschung wiederzugeben. Solche Mei-
nungsäußerungen sind in einem dtv-Atlas fehl am
Platz. Schon auf der ersten Seite bei der Charakte-
risierung der Ethnologie werden spezifische Posi-
tionen zur Fachpolitik bezogen, in dem sich Haller
gegen eine Zusammenlegung von Ethnologie und
Volkskunde wendet. Unabhängig von unserer Mei-
nung dazu gehört das u. E. nicht an den Beginn
einer Einführung. Das meinungsfreudige Engage-
ment Hallers wirft an etlichen Stellen des Buches
Probleme auf. So behandelt Haller unter dem Ti-
tel “Soziobiologie” (76-77, 121) Humangenetik,
Humanethologie und Soziobiologie und verhandelt
Genetik als Leitwissenschaft. Die Ausführungen
können allenfalls als eine Karikatur dieser Ansätze
firmieren. Die Erläuterungen sind selbst für einen
ersten Einblick unzureichend. Sie sind tendenziös,
m dem z. B. Soziobiologie mal offen, mal subtil
m die Nähe von Rassismus und Sozialdarwinismus
gebracht wird.
Es ist verständlich, dass die Texte angesichts der
Fülle an Themen knapp und doch sehr komplex
gehalten werden müssen und nun mal nicht alle In-
formationen zur Verfügung gestellt werden können.
Für umso problematischer halten wir daher Ab-
Schnitte wie diese: “So erarbeiteten Wilhelm Mühl-
^ann und der Volkskundler Max Boehm für das
Institut für Grenz- und Auslandsstudien Konzepte
für die Ansiedlung loyaler dt. Volksgenossen in den
Grenzräumen des Dt. Reiches und entwickelten ei-
ne Grenztheorie, nach der sich ‘Völker politischer
Größe’ durch expandierende Grenzen von ‘Natur-
völkern’ unterscheiden - es liegt auf der Hand, wel-
che Völker damit gemeint sind” (61). Entweder ist
tatsächlich offensichtlich, welche Völker der Autor
vor Augen hat, und dann wäre dieser Nebensatz
hinfällig. Oder der Text bedarf weiterer Klärung;
dann sollte dies auch statt eines “es liegt auf der
Hand” folgen.
Grafiken
Oben wurde einiges Positive zu den Farbgrafiken
gesagt. Viele der Grafiken sind aber leider auch
deutlich überladen. In dieser Hinsicht war die Ent-
scheidung für ein großes Buchformat kontrapro-
duktiv. So werden im “dtv-Atlas Philosophie”, der
Taschenbuchformat hat, Themen, die nicht weni-
ger komplex sind, mit viel einfacheren Grafiken
dargestellt. Ferner finden sich im Ethnologieatlas
im Hintergrund vieler Tabellen großflächige Pik-
togramme, die das Gesamtthema verdeutlichen. So
wird etwa eine schöne Zusammenstellung der Ge-
meinsamkeiten bäuerlicher Gesellschaften mit ei-
ner Silhouette von Feldarbeiten! mit Mistgabel und
Sense hinterlegt, was die Tabelle aber schwerer les-
bar macht (168). Viele Abbildungen erinnern so an
die Ästhetik mancher Websites und werden man-
che Leser ansprechen, andere nicht. Das ist teils
auch Geschmacksache. Vielleicht sind diese Hin-
terlegungen verlagsseitig günstig, weil die Grafi-
ken so kaum kopierbar sind, aber vom eigentlichen
Inhalt lenkt das eher ab. Zu vielen Themen gibt
es in englischen oder amerikanischen Lehrbüchern
eindeutig bessere, weil einfachere und klarere Gra-
fiken.
Eines fällt angesichts des Titels “Atlas” beson-
ders auf. Es gibt nur sehr wenige Karten und die
sind auch noch sehr klein gedruckt. Eine detail-
lierte Karte der Sprachen der Welt etwa sucht man
vergebens. An einigen Stellen schießt das Bemü-
hen grafischer Auflockerung über das Ziel hinaus.
Während viele Abbildungen sehr klein sind, neh-
men einige Abbildungen einen großen Raum ein,
enthalten aber wenig Informationen. Ein Beispiel
ist die Aufzählung regionaler und thematischer Ar-
beits Schwerpunkte der Ethnologie in Deutschland
und den USA: außer einer jeweiligen Landeskarte
mit Staatsflagge erscheint lediglich eine Liste der
verschiedenen Arbeitsgruppen (20). Es ist löblich,
dass kulturelle Universalien überhaupt in einem
Einführungsbuch genannt werden. Schade aber ist,
dass der Begriff nicht richtig erläutert oder gar
diskutiert wird, sondern eine ganze Seite (28) mit
Anthropos 101.2006
584
einer Pseudokarte verschwendet wird. Diese Gra-
fik bringt einfach nur unkommentiert George Peter
Murdocks Liste, die um ein Signet der Erde mit ei-
nem unverständlichen Piktogramm abgedruckt ist.
Fazit
Insgesamt handelt es sich bei Dieter Hallers “dtv-
Atlas Ethnologie” um ein besonders für die Ausbil-
dung junger Ethnologinnen und Ethnologen wich-
tiges Buch. Wir haben vieles kritisiert, aber es ist
zu betonen, dass der Band ein mutiges Projekt dar-
stellt. Der Band stellt ein bislang konkurrenzlo-
ses Werk dar und ist inhaltlich wie grafisch sehr
reichhaltig. Es handelt sich über weite Strecken um
ein bereicherndes Buch. Es ist aber uneinheitlich
und für diese Buchkategorie überladen und zu mei-
nungslastig. Für die nächste Auflage könnte der
Band in vieler Hinsicht textlich und grafisch ver-
bessert werden.
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
Allman, Jean (ed.): Fashioning Africa. Power and
the Politics of Dress. Bloomington: Indiana Univer-
sity Press, 2004. 247 pp. ISBN 0-253-21689-3. Price:
$21.95
Kleidung und Mode bieten facettenreiche Einblicke,
wie Menschen in verschiedenen afrikanischen Gesell-
schaften politische Transformationen mitgestalten, so
die These der Herausgeberin Jean Allman. Sie hat So-
zialanthropologinnen und Historikerinnen versammelt,
die in insgesamt dreizehn Beiträgen der Frage nachge-
hen, inwieweit Frauen und Männer verschiedenen Alters
durch Veränderungen ihrer Bekleidungsformen ihre po-
litischen Überzeugungen zum Ausdruck bringen. Zudem
setzen sich die Autorinnen und Autoren damit auseinan-
der, in welcher Weise Mode koloniale und nachkoloniale
gesellschaftliche und politische Veränderungen spiegelt.
Die regionalen Fallbeispiele konzentrieren sich, wie für
US-amerikanische Wissenschaftlerinnen üblich, auf das
anglophone Afrika, insbesondere auf Ost- und Westafri-
ka. Nur jeweils ein Beitrag befasst sich mit dem luso-
bzw. dem frankophonen Afrika. Sie werden ergänzt
durch Artikel afroamerikanischer Autorinnnen, die sich
der gesellschaftlichen und politischen Bedeutung afri-
kanisierter Kleidung im globalen Kontext widmen -
vornehmlich mit Blick auf die USA.
Aus der bunten Palette der Fallbeispiele, die die Her-
ausgeberin zu vier Themenblöcken und entsprechenden
Leitfragen gebündelt hat, sollen hier einige vorgestellt
Werden: Wie schafft Kleidung Einheit in Umbruchsitua-
tionen? Wie trägt “moderne” Kleidung zur Verbreitung
uationalistischer Einstellungen bei? Wie verändern poli-
tisch begründete Bekleidungsvorschriften Geschlechter-
und Generationenbeziehungen? Welche Bedeutung ha-
ken afrikanische Bekleidungstraditionen im globalen
Modegeschäft?
Die an der Universität Oregon tätige Historikerin
Laura Fair illustriert, wie Frauen in Sansibar nach der
Abschaffung der Sklaverei 1897 neue Bekleidungsfor-
Haen entwickelten. So brachten ehemalige Sklavinnen
den Stolz auf ihre Freiheit im Kauf neuer, vergleichswei-
se teurer Stoffe zum Ausdruck und entwickelten eine be-
sondere Tanzkleidung, die sie in einem völlig neu entwi-
ckelten Tanzstil öffentlich zur Schau stellten. Dazu zähl-
te das graziöse Schreiten durch die Stadt, wofür sie sich
•aait Accessoires schmückten, die zuvor nur der Herr-
scherschicht Vorbehalten waren, z. B. Rüschenhosen,
Sonnenschirme und Schuhe. In einer anderen, ebenfalls
Anth
neu entwickelten Tanzform kleideten sich Frauen, die
der früheren Herrscherschicht angehörten, ähnlich wie
ihre Untergebenen, wobei alle Beteiligten die zu diesem
Anlass getragenen, uniformen Textilien stolz als typisch
sansibarisch titulierten. Sie tanzten vor allem während
neu erfundener Initiationsriten für Mädchen, die sich
stark an Riten der befreiten Sklavinnen anlehnten.
Andrew Ivaska, Historiker an der Universität Mon-
treal und einziger männlicher Autor des Sammelban-
des, führt die Leser von Sansibar auf das tansanische
Festland zur Zeit Julius Nyereres. Die regierungsnahe
Jugendorganisation TANU Youth League sah ihre Auf-
gabe darin, Beiträge zur nationalen Einheit zu leisten.
Dazu zählte sie Ende der 1960er Jahre die Verdammung
von Kleidung, die nicht dem Ideal des afrikanischen
Sozialismus entsprach. Junge Männer, die die TANU
Youth League leiteten, gingen in der Hauptstadt Dar-
es-Salaam als Ordnungshüter gegen Mädchen vor, die
Miniröcke trugen. Ihrer Meinung nach waren die da-
mals beliebten Röcke Sinnbilder des individuellen Zur-
Schau-Stellens und Produkte einer US-amerikanischen,
dekadenten Vergnügungskultur; als solche seien sie nicht
mit sozialistischen Zielen, insbesondere der kollektiven
harten Arbeit zum Wohl der tansanischen Nation, ver-
einbar.
Die züchtige Bekleidung von Frauen ist auch das
zentrale Thema, dem sich die Herausgeberin Jean All-
man mit einem eigenen Beitrag widmet. Allerdings ge-
raten in ihrer Betrachtung über Ghana Ende der 1950er
Jahre nicht modebewusste junge Städterinnen ins Kreuz-
feuer der Kritik, sondern Landbewohnerinnen in akepha-
len Gesellschaften Nordghanas. Bemerkenswerterweise
sahen einflussreiche Aktivistinnen ghanaischer Frauen-
organisationen, die in den Städten des Südens ansässig
waren, damals ihre Hauptaufgabe darin, Landbewohne-
rinnen zum Tragen zivilisierter Kleidung zu bewegen.
Auch wenn es sich um vergleichsweise wenige, peripher
siedelnde Gesellschaften handelte, machten die Aktivis-
tinnen aus den unbekleideten Oberkörpern der Bäuerin-
nen ein nationales Problem. Dabei unterschieden sich ih-
re Argumente und Gegenstrategien kaum von denen der
Missionare und Kolonialherren, die wenige Jahrzehnte
zuvor an der “weiblichen Unzucht” Anstoß nahmen und
den Barbusigen in zivilisatorischem Eifer mit Nähkur-
sen zu Leibe rückten. Auch wenn es sich nunmehr
um das Engagement von Nichtregierungsorganisationen
handelte und Ghanaerinnen anderen Landesbewohnerin-
iropos 101.2006
586
Rezensionen
nen vorschrieben, wie sich sie angemessen kleiden soll-
ten, verstanden sie ihre Initiativen dennoch als Beitrag
zum nationalen Ansehen Ghanas in der Welt.
Ausgehend von Kente-Stoffen der Ashanti in Ghana
reflektiert die Kommunikationswissenschaftlerin Boate-
ma Boateng, die an der Universität von San Diego
lehrt, über Transformationen von Bedeutungsinhalten
im globalen Kontext. Die ghanaische Regierung hat
für diese Stoffe das internationale Recht auf geistiges
Eigentum erwirkt, da sie im Ashanti-Reich von religiös-
kultureller und politischer Wichtigkeit waren. Dennoch
werden die Stoffe auf unterschiedliche Weise kopiert
und imitiert, u. a. als Billigfabrikate in Südostasien.
Ungeachtet dessen sind sie für Afroamerikaner zum
Symbol einer gemeinsamen afrikanischen Herkunft und
Identität geworden, auch wenn vielen, die sich heute für
festliche Anlässe mit diesen Stoffen schmücken, die spe-
zifischen historischen Hintergründe unbekannt sind. In
Zeitschriften, die gezielt eine afroamerikanische Leser-
schaft ansprechen, dienen maschinell gefertigte Kente-
Muster sogar als Werbeträger für anspruchsvolle Kon-
sumgüter. Die Autorin beschränkt sich aber nicht darauf,
diese Zusammenhänge zu erläutern, vielmehr fordert sie,
dass afroamerikanische Käufer sich selbstkritisch mit
diesen Phänomenen auseinander setzen und Druck auf
die Händler ausüben sollten, um das kulturelle Erbe
Ghanas und dessen Recht auf geistiges Eigentum zu
schützen.
Indem dieser Sammelband eine große Bandbreite an
regionalen und zeitlichen Beispielen präsentiert und über
konkrete lokale Bezüge hinaus übergreifende Transfor-
mationen berücksichtigt, bietet er erkenntnisreiche Ein-
blicke in das Zusammenspiel von Kleidung und Macht-
beziehungen. Alle Autorinnen und Autoren beleuchten,
inwieweit Mode Zugänge zum Verständnis politischer
Veränderungen eröffnen kann. Aus akteursorientierter
Perspektive richten sie ihre Blicke auf Gruppenprozes-
se, die sie durch geschickt ausgewählte Fallbeispiele
veranschaulichen. Dieses ansprechende und lesenswerte
Buch fordert dazu auf, Kleidung und Mode innerhalb
der Ethnologie mehr Aufmerksamkeit zu widmen.
Rita Schäfer
Amesberger, Helga, Katrin Auer und Brigitte
Halbmayr: Sexualisierte Gewalt. Weibliche Erfahrun-
gen in NS-Konzentrationslagern. Wien: Mandelbaum
Verlag, 2004. 359 pp. ISBN 3-85476-118-X. Preis:
€ 24.90
Sexualisierte Gewalt in der nationalsozialistischen
Verfolgung ist ein bis heute stark tabuisierter Themen-
bereich, dem bislang auch in der Forschung kaum nach-
gegangen wurde. Erst in letzter Zeit ist diesbezüglich
eine Veränderung festzustellen. Hier leistet das vorlie-
gende Buch von Helga Amesberger, Katrin Auer und
Brigitte Halbmayr einen hervorragenden Beitrag zur
Sichtbarmachung dieser besonderen Problematik. Die
Autorinnen zeigen die historischen Bedingungen und
Zusammenhänge von Prostitution im Nationalsozialis-
mus, von Sexzwangsarbeit und sexueller Ausbeutung
in Konzentrationslagern auf. Weiters wird dem Um-
gang mit den Erfahrungen sexualisierter Gewalt, den
Bewältigungs- und Verarbeitungsstrategien betroffener
Frauen nachgegangen. An Formen und Methoden se-
xualisierter Gewalt wurden in den Konzentrationslagern
von Vergewaltigung über sexuelle Belästigung bis zur
erzwungenen Trennung von Kindern etc. alle mögli-
chen Grausamkeiten angewandt. Da es zu medizinischen
Zwangseingriffen schon einige Forschungen gibt, kon-
zentrieren Amesberger et al. sich auf die sexuelle Aus-
beutung und die Sexzwangsarbeit von Frauen sowie die
frauenspezifischen Diskurse und Themen der Verfolgung
und Haft.
Die Untersuchung beginnt mit einem theoretischen
Teil zu verschiedenen Konzepten der Gewalt die jeweils
in Hinblick auf ihre Brauchbarkeit für die vorliegende
Studie untersucht werden. Insbesondere Johan Galtungs
Unterscheidung zwischen direkter/personaler und indi-
rekter/struktureller Gewalt erweist sich hier als sehr
sinnvoll. Sexualisierte Gewalt wird dann in Anlehnung
an Alberto Godenzi (Gewalt im sozialen Nahraum. Ba-
sel 1996) als das Übergehen der sexuellen Selbstbe-
stimmung der Frau definiert, wobei dafür nicht notwen-
dig körperliche Gewalt angewandt werden muss. Neben
der direkten körperlichen Gewalt werden daher auch
“Grenzüberschreitungen” im Sinne der Verletzung des
Schamgefühls, verbaler Erniedrigung u. ä. einbezogen.
Zentral im Kontext der Arbeit mit KZ-Überlebenden
ist die Thematik des Traumas und der Traumatisierung,
weshalb dieser ein eigenes Kapitel gewidmet ist. Er-
kenntnisse aus der Traumaforschung liefern wichtige
Hinweise für die Interpretation der mit 43 ehemali-
gen Insassinnen des Konzentrationslagers Ravensbrück
durchgeführten Interviews. Alter, Dauer des Ereignisses,
Intensität und Verfolgungsgrund wirken sich auf das
Ausmaß einer Traumatisierung aus, ebenso wie Ver-
folgungsgrund und Dauer der Verfolgung. Besonders
jene, die aus “rassischen” oder antisemitischen Gründen
verfolgt wurden, erlitten schwerste Traumatisierungen,
die bis heute körperliche und psychische Auswirkungen
zeigen.
Amesberger et al. thematisieren die nationalsozia-
listische Geschlechter- und “Rassen”ideologie und ihre
Hintergründe, sowie die Macht- und Hierarchiegefälle
zwischen Täterinnen und Opfern. Weiters gehen sie
auf die Binnenstruktur der Gemeinschaft der Täterinnen
und den Kontext der Ausübung einer Gewalttat (ob in
der Haft, im Ghetto, im Konzentrationslager ...) ein.
Typisch für die nationalsozialistische Geschlechterideo-
logie ist die Weiterführung und Zuspitzung bürgerli-
cher Rollenzuschreibungen aus der Zeit der deutschen
Kriege gegen Napoleon, in der das Ideal des Mas-
kulinen verfestigt wurde. Damit einher ging ein Ideal
der Frau als (zu kontrollierender) Hüterin der Moral
und der Ordnung. Neben der idealisierten Ehefrau und
Mutter gibt es jedoch auch noch andere, teilweise ent-
gegengesetzte Genderrollen, resultierend aus der natio-
nalsozialistischen Rassenideologie. Diese anderen Ideo-
logien werden besonders in den Konzentrationslagern
deutlich.
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
587
Vier Faktoren erweisen sich als bestimmend für den
Verlauf von Gewaltanwendungen in diesem Umfeld: die
Binnenstruktur der Täterinnen, das Verhältnis Täterin -
Opfer, die Methoden der Gewalttätigkeit sowie das Ge-
schlecht. Die Täterinnen waren in den hier geschilder-
ten Fällen mehrheitlich Männer, die größtenteils auch
das nationalsozialistische Regime und seinen Verfol-
gungsapparat repräsentierten. Eine zentrale Rolle für die
Möglichkeiten zu überleben und somit für den Verlauf
von Gewaltanwendungen spielt auch die - größten-
teils durch die Kategorisierungen der SS vorgegebene -
Hierarchie unter den Häftlingen. An der Spitze standen
die “befristeten Vorbeugehäftlinge” (ab 1937 ist die Vor-
beugehaft von “Berufs- und Gewohnheitsverbrechern”
und “Gemeingefährlichen” möglich) und deutschen “Po-
litischen”, ganz unten Homosexuelle, Roma, Sinti und
Juden/Jüdinnen.
Ein eigener Abschnitt thematisiert die von den Frau-
en erfahrenen (und miterlebten) sexualisierten Gewalter-
fahrungen einerseits, die Bedeutung von “Geschlecht”
und des Geschlechterverhältnisses im Kontext natio-
nalsozialistischer Verfolgungen andererseits. Dabei ge-
hen Amesberger et al. auch auf die kulturellen Beson-
derheiten im Erleben sexualisierter Gewalt ein, indem
sie auf die spezifische Erniedrigung für weibliche Ro-
ma und Sinti verweisen. Im gemischt-geschlechtlichen
“Zigeunerlager” gab es auch bei der Aufnahme keine
Geschlechtertrennung. Die Frauen mussten sich daher
nicht nur vor den Augen der SS-Männer, sondern auch
neben ihren männlichen Familienangehörigen auszie-
hen, eine Situation, die sie explizit als peinlich und
demütigend empfanden. Weiters werden von den drei
Forscherinnen frauenspezifische Themen wie die Bedeu-
tung von Haaren als Zeichen der Schönheit und Merk-
mal individueller wie auch geschlechtlicher Identität
und Menstruation analysiert. Verschiedenste Formen der
Gewalt - sexualisiert-frauenfeindlich, -rassistisch und
-antisemitisch - lassen sich in diesem Zusammenhang
herausfiltern.
Von der Forschung nach wie vor wenig beleuchtet
ist die sexuelle Zwangsarbeit und hier insbesondere
die sexuelle Nötigung durch und für die SS (die von
Anzüglichkeiten bis zu Vergewaltigungen reicht). Es
gibt hierzu allerdings kaum Dokumente der Nationalso-
zialistlnnen selbst und praktisch keine Zeuginnenaussa-
gen. Die betroffenen Frauen schweigen; teils aus Scham,
teüs aufgrund von Traumatisierung. Aber auch die Wis-
senschaft zeigte bislang wenig Interesse an dieser The-
matik. Im vorliegenden Buch wird nun ein Überblick
dber die gesetzlichen Bestimmungen bezüglich Prostitu-
hon im NS gegeben sowie über die Errichtung von Bor-
dellen in Konzentrationslagern. Genauer beleuchtet wird
die Thematik anhand eines Exkurses zu SS-Bordellen
sowie einer Diskussion von Zeitzeuginnenberichten über
die Beziehungen zwischen SS-Männern und Häftlings-
frauen.
Als besonders fatal - auch für gegenwärtige Op-
frransprüche in der Nachkriegsgesellschaft - erweist
sich die angebliche Freiwilligkeit der Rekrutierung der
Frauen ins Bordell. Für die Frauen gab es die unter-
Anth
schiedlichsten Gründe sich zur Sex-Arbeit zu melden,
von Unwissenheit bis Hoffnung auf positive Verände-
rung ihrer (Über-)Lebensbedingungen. In der Situa-
tion des Konzentrationslagers kann in keinem Fall
von Freiwilligkeit gesprochen werden. Tatsächlich aber
wird in der Forschung wie auch unter den ehemaligen
KZ-Häftlingen nur in Zusammenhang mit (Zwangs-)
Prostitution von Freiwilligkeit gesprochen und diese kri-
tisiert, während alle anderen Formen der Sicherung der
Überlebenschancen, die die Mithäftlinge nicht schädig-
ten, selbstverständlich waren.
Besucher des Bordells waren einige wenige privile-
gierte Häftlinge, v. a. Funktionshäftlinge. Es gibt Do-
kumente, denen zufolge die Frauen monetär entlohnt
wurden, was in der Praxis aber kaum der Fall gewesen
sein dürfte. Möglicherweise erhielten einige Geschenke
von “Kunden” (Kleider, Schmuck). Zwischen Bordell-
besuchern und Frauen gab es auch zwischenmenschliche
Beziehungen und daraus resultierend Liebesaffären und
Eifersüchteleien. Die Bordelle der SS hingegen waren
ohne diesen zwischenmenschlichen Aspekt. Sie waren
ob ihrer Bestialität und Grausamkeit gefürchtet. Viele
der Frauen wurden mit dem Vermerk “abgenützt” ins
Vernichtungslager geschickt, wo sie vergast oder für
medizinische Zwecke missbraucht wurden.
Alle Frauen waren neben der Bedrohung durch
die Zwangsprostitution noch vielen anderen Formen
physischer sexualisierter Gewalt durch die SS-Männer
ausgesetzt. Amesberger et al. unterscheiden nun zwi-
schen “willkürlichen gewaltsamen Übergriffen, von de-
nen grundsätzlich alle bedroht waren, und sexuellen
Verhältnissen (‘Liebschaften’) zwischen SS-Männem
und Häftlingsfrauen mit einer gewissen Regelmäßig-
keit der Kontakte und mit (unterschiedlichen) Vorteilen
für beide Seiten” (142). Die Frauen bezahlten diese
“Affären” allerdings oft mit ihrem Leben, ihre kleinen
Vorteile wandelten sich nur zu schnell in große Nach-
teile. In den meisten Fällen beruhten die Beziehungen
auf einem Tauschhandel “Sex gegen Brot”. Amesberger
et al. betonen, dass es sich hier um sexuelle Nötigung
handelt, da die Situation dieser Frauen wesentlich unter
dem Aspekt der absoluten Gewalt zu sehen ist.
Das Leiden der Betroffenen ist aber auch mit der
Befreiung aus dem Konzentrationslager nicht zu Ende.
Auch nach 1945 wurden Erfahrungen sexualisierter
Gewalt zunehmend tabuisiert, ausgeklammert aus Erin-
nerungen etc. Damit verbunden ist eine weitere Stigma-
tisierung der Opfer, insbesondere der in der Lagerhier-
archie unten angesiedelten Häftlingen, der “Asozialen”.
Nach wie vor werden sie im Opferfürsorgegesetz nicht
anerkannt, können nur aus dem Nationalfond eine Ein-
malzahlung erhalten.
Entsprechend der Reichweite der ideologischen Ver-
knüpfung unterscheiden Amesberger et al. schließlich in
einer Zusammenführung der anfangs gemachten theo-
retischen Überlegungen und der Ergebnisse der prakti-
schen Untersuchung zwischen sexualisiert-frauenfeind-
licher, sexualisiert-antisemitischer und -rassistischer,
sexualisiert-eugenischer und sexualisiert-heterosexisti-
scher Gewalt, wobei im ersten Teil der Bezeichnung
iropos 101.2006
588
Rezensionen
auf die Instrumentalisierung der Sexualität verwiesen
wird, im zweiten Teil auf die ideologische Fokussierung
der Gewalt. Mit dieser Unterscheidung soll die Aus-
richtung der Gewalt gegen die Frau als Frau oder als
Repräsentantin/Symbol einer definierten (Verfolgten-)
Gruppe aufgezeigt werden. Die Autorinnen betonen
abschließend, dass sexualisierte Gewalt gegen Frauen
nicht ausschließlich als Ausdruck der Frauenfeindlich-
keit begriffen werden kann; mindestens ebenso wichtig
sind Rassismus, Antisemitismus, Heterosexismus und
Eugenik, die sich jeweils mit Frauenfeindlichkeit über-
schneiden.
In seiner hervorragenden und umfassenden Darstel-
lung sexualisierter Gewalt gegen Frauen in Konzen-
trationslagern, die die Autorinnen jedoch keineswegs
zu einer simplifizierenden Darstellung und Interpreta-
tion verleitet, ist das vorliegende Buch unverzichtba-
rer Bestandteil einer Auseinandersetzung mit national-
sozialistischer Vergangenheit. Darüber hinaus liefert es
durch seine Differenzierungen im Gewaltbegriff auch
wesentliche Einsichten und Anregungen für die Analyse
sexualisierter Gewalt im Allgemeinen.
Patricia Zuckerhut
Antoun, Richard T.: Documenting Transnational
Migration. Jordanian Men Working and Studying in
Europe, Asia, and North America. New York: Berg-
hahn Books, 2005. 325 pp. ISBN 1-84545-037-X. (New
Directions in Anthropology, 25) Price: $ 88.00
The “old man” of anthropological studies on Jordan
has spoken again. Over 40 years after his first fieldwork
stay in the Jordanian village of Kufr al-Ma, Antoun is
now looking back, reflecting on the changes that have
occurred since then and how the village has become
a nodal point in a network of relationships as a con-
sequence of transnational migration. This ethnographic
account is based on decades of personal relationships
with generations of village inhabitants and in-depth
familiarity with the local, national, and transnational
circumstances. What makes this book unique is its long-
term perspective, the inclusion of pursuing education as
a major reason for migration, and that it has a focus
on a sending rather than host communities. Its very
descriptive style makes it easily accessible to a variety
of readers.
Antoun begins his study with a clear designation of
what he intended it to be: “an in-depth anthropological
case study of the experience of transnational migration
of villagers from one community, the village of Kufr
al-Ma, in one country in the Middle East, Jordan” (1).
He also clearly spells out the main goals of the book:
firstly, “documentation ... It aims to provide a record
of both change and continuity - to record the variety
of visions,” and, secondly, “humanistic: to provide an
account of the migration experience from the migrant’s
perspective” (2). By making documentation the primary
aim of this study - as the title clearly indicates -
Antoun guards himself against legitimate criticism of
under-theorisation of the concepts and issues involved.
The book is divided into eight chapters and an intro-
duction. The introduction sets the framework, describing
the background of the study, research methods, a brief
overview over migration movements in the 20th-century
Middle East in general, specifically in Jordan, and, fi-
nally, introducing the village setting.
In the first chapter, Antoun examines the army as a
vehicle for national and international mobility. In this
fairly lengthy chapter, he discusses the significance of
the Jordanian army, which continues to play a crucial
role in the society. The one aspect of the army that
is particularly relevant for the study is the fact that
army personnel are sent abroad for short- or long-term
missions or training, and are, thus, seemingly exposed
to different cultures. Antoun insists that upon their
return and (early) retirement from the army most of
them put their experiences (and training) to good use
and, therefore, reflect “attributes of modernity” (69).
He comes to the conclusion that the “impact of the
migration experience abroad ... on the attitudes and
worldviews of migrants is unpredictable and determined
by a complex set of factors” (75).
In the following five chapters, Antoun examines
the experiences of individual migrants to five different
destinations respectively - Saudi Arabia and the Gulf
States, England and Germany, Greece, Pakistan, and
the United States. While this division into geographical
areas makes some sense, it precludes a rigorous and
comparative discussion of some of the issues involved.
These and other questions are instead taken up in each
individual chapter resulting in considerable repetition
and at times cumbersome reading. The issues that
are at the heart of Antoun’s enquiry are how “these
remarkably diverse student experiences affect[ed] the
views of Jordanians regarding leading social questions
in Jordan such as women’s work outside the home, birth
control, unemployment, and regarding their own identity
and upbringing in a tribal, peasant village” (169).
Migration to Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States, as
discussed in chapter two, was mainly labour migration.
The author provides the reader with detailed financial
accounts of the migrants from Kurf al-Ma to a wide
range of localities in Arabia. Yet, the examination of
attitude change regarding the issues outlined above
remains inconclusive. What the majority of migrants
to Arabia have in common is that they returned to
Jordan and started more or less successful businesses
with the money they had earned there and invested “at
home.” It is unfortunate that Antoun does not comment
on the devastating consequences of the Gulf War for
Jordanian migrants (only a brief reference is made in
the introduction and in chapter six), who were forced
to return to Jordan after King Hussein’s controversial
stand on Iraq.
The third chapter follows two migrants to Germany
and England, reflecting on their diverging strategies
of “acculturation,” “assimilation,” and “living on the
border” (118). The impact of their stay abroad on their
lives upon their return to Kufr al-Ma remains again
inconclusive. Significantly, the chapter ends stating
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
589
that “the course of Jordanian society ... will depend”
(133).
Migration to Greece, which is described in chapter
four, was for me one of the most interesting parts of this
book. During the time I stayed in Jordan I met countless
people who had gone abroad to study, but I never heard
of anyone going to Greece. This makes me wonder,
how representative the destinations described by Antoun
are for Jordan, or whether they are typical only for
Kufr al-Ma. In Greece, the migrants integrated most
fully into the host society, several of them marrying
Greek women and settling there for good. The high
degree of integration seems to be a result of not only
individual attitudes and of life patterns, but also of the
cultural similarities between Jordanian and Greek rural
worldviews, norms, and values.
The situation of the migrants to Pakistan, which is the
focus of the following chapter, appears to be radically
different from Greece mainly in terms of religion and
language. Again, contrary to my own experiences and
expectations, the largest number of migrants in Antoun’s
sample had gone to various parts of Pakistan, following
one pioneer. They all returned to Jordan, without having
learnt the local languages, and with only one of them
having married a local woman. But the students’ experi-
ences were so varied that Antoun concludes with regard
to the impact of this experience on their worldviews
that it “would be difficult, if not impossible to establish
causal links between a particular migration experience
and particular views on social questions in the home
country” (169). In fact, he argues that the “diversi-
ty of viewpoints ... is the significant factor” which
appears to be an attempt at avoiding conclusive state-
ments.
In his eighth chapter, Antoun looks at the situation of
migrants from Kufr al-Ma to various parts of the United
States. This is by far the longest chapter of the book,
but most of it consists of unrefined data, straight from
the notebook it seems. The reader learns how the four
migrants have responded to Antoun’s questions, but the
analysis of this remains shallow.
The following chapter contains an examination of
mtergenerational relationships, mainly based on one
Particular family in Kufr al-Ma. Here, Antoun focus-
es on the father-sons relationship, and how this has
been affected by migration abroad. He concludes that
these bonds remain intact despite the critical views on
‘village customs” developed by the migrants upon their
mtum.
It is not until the final chapter that Antoun moves
beyond the raw data of his research and attempts to place
bis case study in a broader, comparative perspective. The
chapter appears more like an “add-on” and the discus-
smn focuses very strongly on questions of acculturation,
integration, and adjustment. What seems to be impor-
tant for Antoun is to emphasise the resilience of the
community in the Diaspora situation, including norms
and values that originate in the sending community,
btc concludes with the observation that “the family and
the local community - not the national community -
continue to fill the imagination and the emotions of sons
and daughters whether they are found in the diaspora or
at home” (310).
One aspect that is completely missing in this ethnog-
raphy is a gendered analysis, which Antoun considers
impossible due to him being a male researcher and,
therefore, a lack of access to female respondents. Given
that all the migrants in this sample are male, this would
have been a highly interesting issue to discuss. In a
sense, however, this falls in line with the general lack
of theorisation in this book. It remains true to its title
and merely describes or documents. Another drawback
of the study is the inconsistent use of names, letters,
and numbers for his respondents, which impedes con-
siderably on readability and understanding. I also would
have expected more historical depth, given Antoun’s
long-term familiarity with the situation. This ethnog-
raphy contains valuable details and a wealth of infor-
mation for readers interested in Jordan and/or issues of
transnational migration and diaspora communities from
the Middle East. Some of the chapters would make
useful case studies for course reading lists. Focusing on
single chapters would also circumvent the repetitiveness
that runs through the book. Julia Droeber
Bonnemere, Pascale (ed.): Women as Unseen Char-
acters. Male Ritual in Papua New Guinea. Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. 254 pp. ISBN
0-8122-3789-7. Price: $49.95
Male ritual life - that is, rituals concerned with
initiating young men into the male corporate group,
equipping them with certain skills, or enhancing and
protecting their beauty and health - has long been a
rich and productive field of enquiry for anthropologists
of Melanesia, providing a lens through which to exam-
ine gender, sexuality, embodiment, violence, and male
domination. Because indigenous discourse about these
rituals often emphasized the necessity of male secrecy,
the seclusion of boys away from the village, the removal
of “female” substances from boys and/or the addition
of “masculine” substances to them, it has been easy to
assume that these rituals are “men’s business” in which
women play no role whatsoever - that one of the aims
of these rituals is exactly that, to eclipse female agency,
if only temporarily. Through careful ethnographic ex-
egesis and analysis, the scholars in this edited volume
challenge that assumption and demonstrate not only that
women played key (if often quite small) roles in these
rituals, but also that the examination of women’s roles
in male ritual adds to, and in some cases subtly changes,
the interpretation of these rituals.
For example, it is well-known that male initiation
rituals often entail the removal of young boys from
their mothers into an exclusively male realm, and it
is this male realm and the rebirth of the boys by
the male corporate group that has received the most
analytical attention. However, through an examination
of mothers’ ritual practices, as well as the taboos they
follow during their sons’ ritual seclusion, some of the
Anthropos 101.2006
590
Rezensionen
authors in this volume - Sandra Bamford, Pascale
Bonnemère, and Gilbert Herdt, in particular - show
that the powerful mother-son bond - and its rupture -
are symbolically elaborated dimensions of these rituals,
central to the ontogeny of masculinity. Drawing on
Marilyn Strathem’s theorization of relational person-
hood in Melanesia, Bamford and Bonnemère also sug-
gest that past interpretations of male ritual have focused
too narrowly on the masculinization of the individual,
overlooking how such rituals can concern the transfor-
mation of the boys’ positionality within a field of kinship
relations.
There are two aspects of this volume that I found
particularly rewarding. First, perhaps more than any
other edited volume I’ve read, the chapters are truly
in dialogue with each other, often explicitly invoking
and commenting on each other, as well as addressing
particular questions posed in Bonnemère’s introduction.
This rich conversation was likely facilitated by the
genesis of the volume from the annual meetings of
the Association for the Social Anthropology of Oceania
(ASAO). ASAO sessions dedicated to a particular topic
typically meet at least twice, and often three times,
before deciding whether to proceed to an edited volume,
and thus participants are able to develop their ideas
over the course of two or three years while reading
and thinking about the other participants’ papers - with
wonderful results in this case.
That said, the chapters also stand alone as evocative
and thought-provoking analyses of ritual. Aletta Bier-
sack’s examination of the omatisia ritual practiced by
young Ipili men (similar to the sanggai ritual practiced
by the neighboring Enga) nicely resituates the analyses
of highlands “bachelor cults” from a preoccupation with
gender politics to a discussion of conjugality, marital
sexuality, and the Ipili philosophy that “there is never
regeneration without the risk of physical deterioration
and death” and that human beings, male or female, “are
vulnerable as propagators” (111). Marta Rohatynskyj’s
chapter, although not quite as accessible as the oth-
ers’, provocatively widens the discussion about bodily
substance and identity by illustrating the importance of
territory, the ancestral spirits associated with specific
tracts of land, and the transmission of ancestral spirit
through food grown on specific territories. In essence
she suggests that the plant substances consumed by ritual
initiates are not merely symbols of gendered bodily sub-
stance, they are themselves substances necessary for the
formation of clan and gender identity. Sandra Bamford’s
chapter on the Kamea also challenges a narrow focus
on human bodily substances - and raises the ques-
tion of whether previous analyses of reproduction and
identity formation in Melanesia may have been overly
influenced by Western ideas concerning the transmission
of biogenetic substance - by effectively arguing that
“the parent-child tie is not imagined in terms of shared
bodily substance” (38); rather, “the defining feature of
motherhood for the Kamea ... is the furnishing of a
context - and enclosed environment - within which the
fetus may grow” (38). Moreover, “until he is initiated, a
boy is, in a sense, still ‘contained’ ... It is only through
initiation that a woman’s son is finally ‘de-contained’”
(41).
The second aspect of this volume that I found note-
worthy and gratifying is its comparative nature. Some
of the chapters (those by Pierre Lemonnier, Pascale
Bonnemere, Polly Wiessner, and Andrew Strathem and
Pamela Stewart) deliberately set themselves the task of
comparison, though with different theoretical strategies.
Bonnemere, for example, shows that the different Anga-
speaking groups draw on different aspects of women’s
procreative abilities (breastfeeding versus gestation, for
example) in the symbolic content of their initiation
rituals. Wiessner, in contrast, uses a vast corpus of
life-histories, genealogies, and other oral genres to re-
construct the pre-colonial political-economic history of
Enga-speaking groups, and she shows that over time, as
women played increasingly important roles producing
pigs for ever-intensifying and expanding exchange net-
works, their participation in male ritual also increased.
Attempting to write a regional precolonial history is am-
bitious and rare in the literature on Papua New Guinea,
and this chapter is thus both fascinating in its own right
and makes an important counterpoint to the other chap-
ters in which the historical context provided for the ritual
analysis is not as deep. The volume does not attempt to
cover all areas of Papua New Guinea; instead, it focuses
primarily on two regions, the Anga-speaking peoples of
the Eastern Highlands and a few cultural groups in the
Western and Southern Highlands. Thus, even when the
chapters aren’t explicitly comparative, the reader cannot
help but compare and contrast Wiessner’s chapter with
Biersack’s or Bonnemere’s chapter with Bamford’s. In
sum, this volume makes an important contribution to
the study of male ritual life in Papua New Guinea,
showing that a consideration of women’s roles enriches
its interpretation. Holly Wardlow
Bsteh, Andreas, und Tahir Mahmood (Hrsg.):
Intoleranz und Gewalt. Erscheinungsformen, Gründe,
Zugänge. Mödling: Verlag St. Gabriel, 2004. 186 pp-
ISBN 3-85264-601-4. (Vienna International Christian-
Islamic Round Table, 2) Preis: € 13.80
Von 19. bis 23. Oktober 2000 brachte Andreas Bsteh,
der Direktor des Religionstheologischen Instituts St.
Gabriel bei Wien, zum ersten Mal eine kleine Gruppe
von Muslimen und Christen zusammen, die sich als
“Vienna International Christian-Islamic Round Table”
(= VICIRoTa) konstituierte. Die einzelnen Teilneh-
merinnen und Teilnehmer nahmen jeweils “aus ihrer
persönlichen Sicht der heutigen Weltsituation” zu der
Frage Stellung: “Was ist das wichtigste Problem, vor
dem die Menschheit auf ihrem Weg in die Zukunft
steht, und was kann getan werden, es zu bewältigen?”
Die Impulsreferate und vor allem auch die Diskussions-
beiträge wurden zwei Jahre später in der vorbildlichen
Art und Weise veröffentlicht, die A. Bstehs zahlreiche
und gewichtige Publikationen zum Dialog seit Jahrzehn-
ten auszeichnen (siehe: Um unsere Zeit zu bedenken.
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
591
Christen und Muslime vor den Herausforderungen der
Gegenwart. Mödling 2003).
Der genannte erste Austausch hatte folgende Haupt-
themen ausgemacht: “Der fortschreitende Prozess der
Globalisierung, Armut, Ungerechtigkeit, Intoleranz und
Gewalt, Konflikt, Dialog, Versöhnung, die Bedeutung
des Menschseins, Werte, die Krise im Bereich von Erzie-
hung und Bildung, relevante Bestimmungen des interna-
tionalen Rechts, religiöse Freiheit und Gleichheit.” Aus
diesen Problembereichen wurde, wohl nicht ganz über-
raschend, das Thema “Intoleranz und Gewalt” aufge-
griffen und zum Schwerpunkt der zweiten Plenartagung
des VICIRoTa gemacht. Neben A. Bsteh nahmen 12
Personen teil. Bis auf Georges Khodr, den Griechisch-
Orthodoxen Metropoliten aus dem Libanon, die Rich-
terin am “High Court and Supreme Court of Pakistan”,
Nasira Iqbal, und die Direktorin des “Institute of Muslim
Minority Affairs” in Jeddah, Saleha Mahmood, handelt
es sich um dem Universitätsmilieu zugehörende Akade-
miker. Sie kommen aus Usbekistan, Pakistan und dem
Mittleren Osten (6) sowie aus Österreich, der Schweiz
und Deutschland (6).
Aus der Vielzahl der allesamt straff formulierten
Impulsreferate seien hier beispielhaft ein paar Fragen
erwähnt. Sie dürften deutlich machen, wie sehr die
Lektüre der Impulsreferate und der - auch in diesem
Band wieder vorbildlich in vollem Wortlaut wiedergege-
benen und getitelten - Diskussionsbeiträge lohnt. Theo-
logisch und religionswissenschaftlich besonders tief-
greifende Fragen kamen von Metropolit Khodr. Den
Basler Theologen H. Ott, der möglicherweise ein we-
nig vollmundig von einem möglichen “Bündnis zwi-
schen unseren Religionen [i. e. Christentum und Islam]”
sprach, “dass wir einander, nämlich jeweils die Religi-
on der Anderen, im Kreise unserer eigenen Glaubens-
brüder/-Schwestern verteidigen wollen, so gut wir nur
können” (16), frag Khodr, ob nicht die Hauptfrage die
sei, “inwieweit die Religionen ein Gewaltpotential in
sich tragen”, so dass letztlich bei allen, zumindest bei
Islam und Christentum, “jeweils ein Menschenbild im
Vordergrund [stehe], das auf die betreffende Religion
bezogen ist, und nicht so sehr ein allgemeiner Begriff
vom Menschen”. Von daher stelle sich ihm die Frage:
“Ist ein allgemeiner Begriff vom Menschen auch von
der Religion her zu gewinnen oder nur von einem
humanistischen Säkularismus” (17)?
Khodr war es auch, der im Anschluss an das Refe-
rat A. Th. Khourys über “Gewaltanwendung im Namen
der Religion”, das die im gegebenen Kontext relevan-
ten Ausführungen seines klassischen Werkes “Toleranz
im Islam” (2. Aufl. Altenberge 1986) zusammenfasste,
das seines Erachtens grundlegende texthermeneutische
Problem benannte, “das über die Begegnung zwischen
Christentum und Islam noch hinausgeht ..., [nämlich]
was der historische Kontext generell für uns bedeutet.”
Ünd er fügte hinzu: “Wenn wir uns damit nicht auseinan-
dersetzen, sind wir Götzendiener der Heiligen Schriften”
(60).
Die Wiener Sozialethikerin Ingeborg Gabriel ging
in ihrem herausragenden Referat “Gewalt als Mensch-
heitsverhängnis. Ethische und theologische Überlegun-
gen aus christlicher Sicht” unter anderem auch auf die
neuerlichen christlich-theologischen Diskussionen die-
ser Frage ein. Sie wies auf die Tatsache hin, “dass das
Christentum ab jenem Zeitpunkt, als es Staatsreligion
wurde, also dem 4. Jahrhundert”, die Botschaft von “der
umfassenden Barmherzigkeit Gottes selbst, der - wie
es heißt - ‘seine Sonne aufgehen lässt über Bösen und
Guten und der es regnen lässt über Gerechte und Unge-
rechte’ (Mt 5,45)”, “in den privaten Bereich verbannte
bzw. ihre Erfüllung auf einzelne Gruppen von Christen,
wie die Ordensleute, beschränkte” und dass “erst im
20. Jahrhundert - und dies vor allem von Nichtchristen
wie Gandhi - der Versuch unternommen [wurde], sie
politisch in eine Theorie des gewaltfreien Widerstands
umzusetzen” (165).
Gabriel unterstrich in der Diskussion noch einmal
die unabdingbare Notwendigkeit, die Schrifttexte “in
einer nicht Gewalt fördernden Weise zu interpretieren”
(d. h. hier “symbolisch”): “Der Kampf sollte nicht gegen
äußere Feinde geführt werden, sondern diese symbo-
lisierten die eigenen Sünden und Leidenschaften usw.,
die bekämpft werden sollten” (169). “Eine derartige
symbolische Interpretation” setze “ihrerseits ein herme-
neutisches Vorverständnis voraus” und dieses liege im
Gottesverständnis selbst. “Wenn ich ernst nehme, dass
der Gott der Offenbarung ein Gott ist, der das Leben
des Menschen und nicht seinen Tod will, dann werden
bestimmte Aussagen über Gewalt notwendig als zeit-
bedingt erscheinen” (169).
Mehrmals im Laufe der Gespräche wurde - fast
gebetsmühlenartig - die Überzeugung geäußert, dass
wer immer den “Terrorismus” sowie Gewalt und In-
toleranz, seine logischen Folgen, in wirksamer Weise
ausrotten wolle, sich mit sehr ernsten sozialen, wirt-
schaftlichen und politischen Ungerechtigkeiten ausein-
andersetzen müsse. Auf diese im Zusammenhang des
Gesamtthemas erstrangige Frage konnte jedoch dieser
runde Tisch mit bestem Willen kaum weiterführende und
klärende Antworten finden, da weder die Wirtschafts-
wissenschaft noch das internationale Handelsrecht sach-
kundig vertreten waren. Aus dem Kommunique dieser
Gespräche, dem man von Herzen eine weit- und tiefgrei-
fende Wirkung wünscht, sei hier wenigstens der Appell
an die Medien hervorgehoben, “ihre im gegenwärtigen
globalen Kontext immer größer werdende Verantwor-
tung wahrzunehmen und zu erfüllen und Verständnis
und gegenseitigen Respekt auf wirkungsvolle Weise zu
fördern” (177). Christian W. Troll
Clark, Mary Ann: Where Men Are Wives and
Mothers Rule. Santería Ritual Practices and Their Gen-
der Implications. Gainesville: University Press of Flori-
da, 2005. 186 pp. ISBN 0-8130-2834-5. Price: $59.95
Die Autorin dieses Buches ist Religionswissenschaft-
lerin, die freilich auch die einschlägige ethnologische
Literatur zum Thema rezipiert. Sie beschäftigt sich seit
vielen Jahren mit der afrokubanischen Santería (vor
allem ihrer Diaspora in den USA) und gehört zu einer
Anthropos 101.2006
592
Rezensionen
steigenden Zahl von Wissenschaftlern, die sich selbst
in diese Geheimreligion einweihen ließen und dadurch
vielleicht profunder als nichtinitiierte Kollegen von ihr
zu berichten wissen. Dass dabei die Wissenschaftlich-
keit nicht auf der Strecke bleiben muss, mag auch
daran liegen, dass die Santería zwar weltweit immer
neue Anhänger gewinnt, sich aber dennoch nicht der
Proselytenmacherei verschreibt. Mit ihren bekannten
Erscheinungsformen, wie den Geheiminitiationen, ver-
schiedenen Divinationstechniken und Besessenheitsphä-
nomenen predigt sie keine allgemeingültigen religiösen
Wahrheiten, sondern will Menschen helfen, ihrer Be-
stimmung entsprechend zu leben. In diesem Kontext ist
Clark für die sachgerechte und detailgenaue Begründung
ihrer Thesen Anerkennung zu zollen, bei denen sie all-
gemeine religionswissenschaftliche Debatten rezipiert,
diese mit Aspekten der Yoruba-Kultur oder der Santería
konfrontiert und alles originell miteinander verknüpft.
Nur die Thesen selbst, die unschwer als feministisch
auszumachen sind, überzeugen nicht ganz.
Das Buch umfasst acht Kapitel und wartet in der
Einleitung zunächst mit einer Kritik an der männlichen
Normativität der westlichen Philosophie und Religion
auf. Es folgt eine kenntnisreiche Einführung in die San-
tería, die auf ihren historischen Hintergrund, die We-
senheit der Orischa-Gottheiten, den Vorrang des Rituals
vor dem Glauben, die Divination und die Tieropfer
eingeht. Im zweiten Kapitel, das die Gender-Perspektive
des Buches begründet, entfaltet Clark die These, dass in
der vorkolonialen Yoruba-Religion, welche die Santería
neben Einflüssen aus dem Katholizismus und dem Spiri-
tismus maßgeblich prägte, die Geschlechtertrennung nur
schwach ausgeprägt gewesen sei und Raum für Flexibi-
lität, Überlappungen und Mehrdeutigkeiten ließ. Hierar-
chie fuße eher auf dem Prinzip der Seniorität, also der
Älteren über die Jüngeren. In der Santería lebe dies in
einer relationalen spirituellen Hierarchie fort, die einen
Anhänger abhängig vom Grad seiner Einweihung und
seiner rituellen Reife zu anderen in eine Rangordnung
setze. Innerhalb dieser Hierarchie komme metaphorisch
und symbolisch die Flexibilität der Geschlechterzuwei-
sung zum Tragen.
Bis zu diesem Punkt ist die Argumentation Clarks
plausibel und nachvollziehbar. Aus der Durchlässigkeit
der Geschlechterzuschreibung jedoch den Schluss zu
ziehen, die Santería sei ein “weiblich normatives Sys-
tem” (3) oder eine “feminine Religion” (145), mag zwar
verführerisch sein, ist aber nicht wirklich überzeugend.
Dies zeigt sich bereits im 3. Kapitel über “Bestimmung
und Divination”. Hier wird mit großer Sachkenntnis
dargelegt, dass die Bestimmung des Menschen in der
Yoruba-Religion schon vor der Geburt mit der Auswahl
des Kopfes {pri) festgelegt und durch den individuellen
Schutz-Orischa bestimmt wird. Dass der Schutz-Orischa
nicht das gleiche Geschlecht aufweisen muss wie sein
Anhänger, dass die geschlechtsspezifisch imaginierten
Charaktereigenschaften von Orischa und Anhänger di-
vergieren können, obgleich Übereinstimmungen wahr-
scheinlich sind, und dass männliche Anhänger der weib-
lichen Gottheit Ochün, anders als gemeinhin behauptet,
nicht zwingend homosexuell sein müssen, auch wenn
viele es sind, spricht für die Durchlässigkeit der Ge-
schlechterzuweisung, nicht aber zwingend für eine hin-
tergründige Bevorrechtung des Weiblichen. Ähnliches
gilt für die verschiedenen Divinationstechniken, die dem
Menschen seine Bestimmung erhellen. Weder die Tat-
sache, dass das Orakel der Kauri Schnecken (diloggun),
welches weibliche Priesterinnen praktizieren können,
älter sei als das den Frauen verschlossene Ifä-Orakel der
Babalawo-Priester, noch der Umstand, dass die hierar-
chisch höher stehenden Babalawos die Santería alleine
nicht lebensfähig hätten machen können, weil sie nur
in bestimmten Kultgemeinden und nur für bestimm-
te Handlungen (der Einweihungszeremonien) eingesetzt
werden, lässt schon den Schluss zu, dass es sich bei der
Santería um eine feminine Religion handelt.
Ähnliches gilt für Clarks Ausführungen über die
“Initiation” im Kapitel 4. Die Autorin greift auf den
schon vorher eingeführten Begriff des iyawó zurück,
der oft mit “Novize” gleichgesetzt wird und in der San-
tería den Neuinitiierten meint. In der Yoruba-Sprache
bedeutet dieser Begriff jedoch “Braut”, was Clark zum
Anlass nimmt, die Beziehung eines Initiierten mit sei-
nem Orischa analog zu der einer “weiblichen” Braut
zu ihrem Bräutigam zu fassen. Die Integration der
“Braut” in eine Santeria-Kultgemeinschaft interpretiert
sie in Anlehnung an die Braut im Yoruba-Land, die in
den Haushalt des Ehemannes übersiedelt und in dessen
Familie unabhängig von ihrem tatsächlichen Alter als
“jüngstes” Familienmitglied gilt. Den Aufstieg in der
sozialen Hierarchie gewährten die Dauer der Anwe-
senheit und die Zahl der Kinder, die sie ihrem Mann
schenkt. Entsprechend, so Clark, steige auch in der San-
teria-Kultgemeinde das Ansehen des lyawös mit seiner
rituellen Reife und der Zahl der Anhänger, die er im
Verlauf seines weiteren Lebens initiiert. Dieses weib-
liche Modell des Aufstieges ist ein weiteres Argument,
um die Santería als weiblich normativ zu fassen. Mit
der Betonung der Brautmetapher übersieht Clark jedoch
beflissentlich, dass um den Iyawó stets auch die reiche
Symbolik und Metaphorik eines neugeborenen Kindes
kreist, zu dem der Initiierte durch die Einweihung wird,
und dass der Iyawó diesen Status nach genau einem Jahr
verliert, unabhängig von seiner rituellen Reife. Proble-
matisch ist ganz zweifellos, dass sich die Interpretati-
on nur auf ein einziges Indiz stützt. Dies gilt um so
mehr, als man es im vorliegenden Fall mit einer Misch-
religion zu tun hat, die ganz unterschiedliche Einflüsse
aufnahm.
Auch die Interpretation der “Besessenheitsphänome-
ne”, die Gegenstand des 5. Kapitels sind, gründen ei-
gentlich auf einer eigenwilligen Ausdeutung der Inkor-
porierung eines Orischas in seinen Anhänger als eine Art
sexueller Akt, der der Penetration der Frau durch den
Mann entspricht. Diese und die Brautsymbolik setzen
jeden Anhänger, der von seinem Orischa besessen wird,
in eine weibliche Position gegenüber dem männlichen
Orischa, den Clark “spirit husband” nennt. Dies ist eine
eigenmächtige Interpretation, der kaum ein Santeria-
Priester (zumindest in Kuba) zustimmen dürfte und die
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
593
in keinem Fall das repräsentiert, was die Völkerkunde
als emische Sichtweise versteht.
Das 6. Kapitel, das sich unter dem Eindruck des
Angriffs auf das World Trade Centre in New York
zunächst mit Gewalt beschäftigt, interpretiert die in der
Santería vorgeschriebenen Tieropfer erneut eigenwillig
unter einer weiblichen Symbolik. Clark greift dazu die
gebräuchliche Formulierung auf, “die Orischas füttern”,
wenn diese das Blut und bestimmte Körperteile der
Opfertiere erhalten. Statt jedoch dieses Füttern in dem
(üblichen) Sinne zu interpretieren, dass die Orischas
daraus neue Kraft und Energie gewinnen, bringt Clark es
mit der Funktion der Frau in der Familie zusammen, die
für Nahrung und Essen zuständig ist. Sie widerspricht
der verbreiteten Auffassung über religiöse Tieropfer,
nach der Frauen Leben spenden und Männer Leben
nehmen, also für die Durchführung von Opfer zuständig
sind. Denn in der Santería dürfen weibliche Priesterin-
nen vor der Menopause kleinere Tiere (Geflügel) opfern
und sie können nach der Menopause auch die Ein-
weihung zur Durchführung von Opfern an vierbeinigen
Tieren erlangen. Ob die Santería freilich schon dadurch
eine weibliche Religion wird, ist jedoch fraglich.
Das 7. Kapitel über “Hexerei” scheint für die Argu-
mentation insofern relevant, als diese in Kuba anders
als im europäischen Mittelalter nicht vorrangig Frau-
en zugeschrieben wird, sondern einem anderen, eher
männlich imaginierten, nämlich mächtigen, kraftvollen
aber auch amoralischen Glaubenssystem. Es handelt sich
um den “palo monte”, der keinen Yoruba-Ursprung hat,
sondern auf bantusprachige Gruppen zurückverweist,
die ebenfalls einen beträchtlichen Anteil der Sklaven
auf Kuba ausmachten. Er stellt kein gänzlich anderes
System dar, sondern bildet ein religiöses Kontinuum mit
der Santería. Clark, welche die Santería von weiblicher
Symbolik und Metaphorik dominiert sieht, ordnet sie
zwischen den Palo Monte auf der einen und dem Ifá-
Orakelpriestertum auf der anderen Seite ein.
Es mag sein, und dies spricht Clark im Schlusskapi-
tel auch an, dass nordamerikanische Santería-Anhänge-
rinnen vor dem Erfahrungshintergrund der Frauenbe-
wegung das Orakelpriestertum als männliche Domäne
afrokubanischer Religion nicht länger gewilligt sind hin-
zunehmen und hieraus das Interesse an der Betonung
Weiblicher Normativität entstand. Doch ist dies nicht
eine Frage, die eher politisch als wissenschaftlich zu
klären wäre?
Ein Phänomen, das eine eingehendere Erörterung
verdient hätte, weil Clark mit ihrer Arbeit Ansätze zu
einer “Orischa-Theologie” zu formulieren beabsichtig-
te, ist die geschlechtliche Konstruiertheit der Orischas
selbst. Zwar mögen einige männliche Orischas, wie der
kriegerische Changó, in weiblichen katholischen Hei-
ligen synthetisiert sein, nämlich der “Santa Barbara”,
andere verfügen neben einer männlichen zugleich über
eine weibliche Ausdrucksform bzw. camino', dennoch
besitzen alle ein relativ fixes Geschlecht. Die San-
tería hat die Orischas also vergleichsweise eindeutig
geschlechtlich konstruiert, und es lässt sich hier we-
nig hintergründiger Vorrang für Weiblichkeit erkennen.
Dennoch: Auch wer nicht mit der These von der Santería
als weiblich normativer Religion übereinstimmt, kann
bei der Lektüre des Buches viel über die Santería erfah-
ren und die interessant sowie detailreich vorgetragene
Argumentationen nachverfolgen.
Lioba Rossbach de Olmos
Corbey, Raymond: The Metaphysics of Apes. Ne-
gotiating the Animal-Human Boundary. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2005. 227 pp. ISBN 0-521-
54533-1. Price: £ 14.99
The ape-human boundary, that gap that is supposed
to separate humans from the rest of the animal world,
has been a persistent and important issue in zoology,
primatology, and paleoanthropology. The ways that
cultures define what it is to be human and what it is
to be an animal reflect philosophical conceptions of
“humanity” and “animality,” conceptions of the order
of nature, and attitudes about the moral order of the
world. Raymond Corbey, a philosopher and historian
of anthropology, examines the philosophical, religious,
moral, and scientific ideas that have been employed to
define and maintain the animal-human boundary and
the reasons why that boundary has shifted over time.
Through this type of investigation Corbey hopes to
better understand a variety of contemporary scientific
and cultural issues that revolve around the preservation
and alteration of the human-animal boundary.
Corbey is interested in understanding how Western
science, when studying humans, our hominid ancestors,
and nonhuman primates, has respected the existence of a
human-animal boundary while at the same time finding
it occasionally necessary to redefine that boundary. In
order to understand this process one must know the
metaphysics of apes. Corbey explains that by “meta-
physics” he means several different things. First is the
traditional sense of the ontological status of apes, what
apes are considered to be. However, another sense of
metaphysics that has been important historically is the
way that conceptual or theoretical assumptions about
apes have guided the way data about them has been
accumulated, categorized, and interpreted by scientists.
Here Corbey is sensitive to recent trends in the history
and philosophy of science, which have emphasized the
role of philosophical assumptions in the interpretation
of scientific discoveries and the formulation of theories.
Lastly, Corbey also recognizes that cultural attitudes and
values about apes have played an important role in shap-
ing scientific concepts about apes and the human-animal
boundary.
Corbey investigates cultural and scientific attitudes
about apes and humans historically and across a range
of disciplines, thus illustrating the multifaceted nature
of the problem. After briefly outlining Western cultural
attitudes about apes and other animals as they relate
to and attitudes about what it is to be human, Corbey
delves into how zoological studies of apes in the
seventeenth century challenged the long accepted divide
that separated humans from the animal world. As the
Anthropos 101.2006
594
Rezensionen
anatomical similarities between humans and apes noted
by anatomists such as Edward Tyson led zoologists
such as Carl Linnaeus to view humans and apes as so
alike that they should be placed together taxonomically
in the same category, called primates, a significant
modification took place that blurred the ape-human
boundary and seemed to bring humans and animals
dangerously close together.
As Corbey shows, no sooner had zoologists seemed
to weaken the ape-human boundary than there was a re-
action to once again reinforce that boundary by such fig-
ures as J. F. Blumenbach and Petrus Camper who sought
any anatomical trait that might be used to distinguish
humans from apes and reestablish a separation between
humans and animals. The rise of Darwinian evolution
theory further complicated the ape-human relationship,
and while supporters of the theory such as T. H. Huxley
reemphasized the close anatomical relationship between
apes and humans, Corbey notes how Huxley created
a new boundary by identifying a mental and moral
gap that separated humans from the animal kingdom.
Moreover, while biologists were arguing for an apelike
ancestry for humans and continuity between animals and
humanity, the animal nature lurking within humans was
also being promoted in the psychological theories of Sig-
mund Freud and by prehistoric archaeologists describing
our prehistoric ancestors.
The ape-human boundary is a major concern in pa-
leoanthropology where it influences the way researchers
settle the status of hominid species by indicating what
traits are significant in determining whether any hominid
is simply an unusual ape or a true human ancestor.
Corbey examines how traits such as bipedality, tool use,
brain size, language, and other characteristics have been
invoked historically to distinguish the human from the
not human. He notes how groups such as the Nean-
derthals or Cro-Magnon have alternatively been con-
sidered little more than beasts or as essentially human
by researchers of different periods. It is not only our
evidence pertaining to them that has changed our assess-
ment of them, but also our changing conceptions of what
constitutes an animal or a human. Corbey also traces
how attitudes and conceptions of what it is to be human
and what traits differentiate humans from animals has
shaped the divergent approaches to the study of humans
and nonhuman primates by cultural anthropologists on
the one hand and biological anthropologists and prima-
tologists on the other. Corbey discusses how these same
issues are manifested in contemporary studies of and at-
titudes about apes. The image of apes in popular culture,
the discovery of the close genetic kinship between apes
and humans, the research into language acquisition by
apes, and the ethical question of ape rights influence
and are influenced by, Corbey argues, the numerous
implicit and explicit ways that we define the ape-human
boundary.
Corbey has offered an insightful and useful analysis
of the philosophical and historical foundations of a basic
conceptual issue in Western thought. What scientists and
scholars can leam from his analysis are the ways in
which assumptions and attitudes that do not originate
from the data of science itself, but rather from some-
times long held opinions that can be traced to religious
tradition, folk knowledge, philosophical commitments,
or popular cultural conceptions have a profound in-
fluence upon how scientific discoveries are interpreted
and why certain scientific theories prevail over others.
The ways that researchers in the past as well as to-
day have sought to define and distinguish apes from
humans, a problem that one would suspect could and
should be decided upon the basis of scientific inquiry,
cannot be understood simply from the scientific data
those researchers were working with, and can only be
understood if we recognize the external philosophical,
religious, or cultural conceptions that always inform the
way individuals conceptualize and understand the world.
Corbey’s book is not only interesting to the historian
and philosopher of anthropology who wants to under-
stand past scientific thinking, but may also help contem-
porary scientists become aware of the cultural influences
on their work and thus perhaps allow scientists to free
their scientific ideas from the influence of these un-
questioned and often unrecognized external influences.
Corbey builds his argument around case studies and in
each he utilizes abundant historical evidence to support
his contentions. This strategy allows Corbey to map
the broad outlines of this issue and to convince the
reader of its significance, but the reader will see that a
much more thorough and comprehensive study of the
subject is now needed in order to fully explore and
understand the implications of a problem that Corbey
has given us a preliminary thought provoking foray
into. Matthew R. Goodrum
Cornwall, Andrea (ed.): Readings in Gender in
Africa. Oxford: James Currey; Bloomington; Indiana
University Press, 2005. 247 pp. ISBN 0-85255-871-6;
ISBN 0-253-21740-7. Price: £ 15.95
Häufig sind Lehrende und Studierende mit dem Pro-
blem konfrontiert, aussagekräftige Grundlagenliteratur
zu bestimmten ethnologischen Fragestellungen zu fin-
den. Das scheint insbesondere in der Gender-Forschung
ein Problem zu sein, zumal dieses Themenfeld an vie-
len deutschen Ethnologieinstituten noch ein stiefmütter-
liches Dasein fristet. Im englischsprachigen Raum ist es
längst im Forschungs- und Lehrangebot integriert, wie
die große Bandbreite an Publikationen dokumentiert.
Der vorliegende Sammelband hilft Interessierten, sich
einen gut strukturierten Überblick über den Forschungs-
und Diskussionsstand zu verschaffen.
Das Buch umfasst insgesamt 28 Aufsätze und ist in
fünf große Themenfelder gegliedert, die aus unterschied-
lichen Perspektiven Annäherungen an aktuelle Schwer-
punkte sowie analytische Reflexionen bieten: Im ersten
Kapitel geht es um die theoretische Auseinandersetzung
mit dem Gender-Konzept, im zweiten werden weibli-
che und männliche Identitätszuschreibungen untersucht,
während das dritte Wirtschaftsbereiche und Lebensfor-
men in urbanen und ruralen Milieus in den Blick nimmt.
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
595
Das vierte Kapitel widmet sich den Transformationen
von Traditionen, wobei die Interdependenzen von reli-
giösen Veränderungen und Geschlechterbeziehungen im
Mittelpunkt stehen. Im fünften Kapitel geht es um die
politische Partizipation von Frauen; hier werden sowohl
traditionelle politische Ämter als auch heutige Entschei-
dungsgremien betrachtet.
Das Themenspektrum des Buches erstreckt sich vom
Wandel ländlicher Haushaltsstrukturen und Familien-
konstellationen, über die Folgen von Urbanisierung
und Entwicklungsprogrammen bis hin zu sexuellen Be-
ziehungen von Jugendlichen und deren Konfrontation
mit HIV/AIDS. Auch die Auswirkungen von Bildungs-
institutionen und Berufswelt auf veränderte Geschlech-
terkonzepte werden beleuchtet. Im religiösen Kontext
kommen christliche und islamische Missionierung so-
wie verschiedene Besessenheitsformen zur Sprache. Im
politischen Bereich wird diskutiert, inwieweit einzel-
ne politische Repräsentantinnen oder Frauenorganisatio-
nen am sinnvollsten als Interessenvertretung fungieren
können.
Jedes Kapitel enthält Texte zu historischen Hinter-
gründen heutiger Probleme und setzt sich mit kolo-
nialen Veränderungen auseinander. Zudem werden al-
le Regionen in Afrika südlich der Sahara abgedeckt,
wobei die Auswahl der Regionalbeispiele relativ aus-
gewogen ist. Hinsichtlich der sprachlichen Dimensio-
nen spiegelt dieses Textbuch die Problematik wider,
dass die meisten Gender-Forschungen im anglopho-
nen Afrika durchgeführt werden und frankophone bzw.
portugiesischsprachige Länder von englischen oder US-
amerikanischen Wissenschaftlerinnen wegen mangeln-
der Sprachkenntnisse in viel geringerem Maße als For-
schungsgebiete aufgesucht werden. Solche Desiderate
könnten sprachversierte deutsche Wissenschaftlerinnen
und Wissenschaftler sinnvoll aufgreifen.
Trotz dieser Einschränkung ist es das Verdienst der
Herausgeberin Andrea Cornwall, die als Sozialanthropo-
login am “Institute of Development Studies” der Univer-
sität Sussex arbeitet, dass sie Texte US-amerikanischer,
europäischer und afrikanischer Autorinnen und Autoren
vorstellt. Dabei kommen Vertreterinnen und Vertreter
ganz unterschiedlicher Fachrichtungen zu Wort: Sozial-
anthropologinnen, Historikerinnen, Soziologinnen, Po-
litologinnen und Literaturwissenschaftlerinnen. Darüber
hinaus werden auch einige Texte männlicher Gender-
Forscher vorgestellt.
Den Erkenntnisgewinn der ethnologischen Masku-
hnitätsforschung, die interdisziplinär arbeitet und auf
die internationale Kooperation großen Wert legt, hatte
Andrea Cornwall bereits in ihrem 1994 veröffentlich-
ten Sammelband “Dislocating Masculinities. Compa-
rative Ethnographies” (London) dokumentiert. Hierauf
nimmt auch die vorliegende Textsammlung Bezug, denn
sie versteht Maskulinitätsforschung als Teilelement der
Gender-Forschung, wobei dieser Forschungszweig kei-
neswegs nur männlichen Wissenschaftlern Vorbehalten
sein sollte.
Vielmehr geht es darum, in kritischem Dialog ver-
schiedene Ansätze und Positionen abzuwägen. Dazu
zählt auch, homogene, dichotome Konstrukte von Weib-
lichkeit und Männlichkeit zu hinterfragen und Diffe-
renzen zwischen Frauen und zwischen Männern ver-
schiedenen Alters und Status zu ergründen. Indem
dieser Sammelband historische Hintergründe reflektiert
und aktuelle Veränderungen in Augenschein nimmt, be-
legt er, wie komplex Geschlechterfragen mit sozioöko-
nomischen, politischen und religiösen Kontexten verwo-
ben sind. So bietet die Lektüre facettenreiche Einblicke
in afrikanische Lebenswelten und vermittelt Zugänge zu
Problemlösungsstrategien von Afrikanerinnen und Afri-
kanern, die über die Gender-Forschung hinaus für die
Ethnologie Afrikas insgesamt von Bedeutung sind.
Rita Schäfer
Crapanzano, Vincent: Imaginative Horizons. An
Essay in Literary-philosophical Anthropology. Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 2004. 260 pp. ISBN
0-226-11874-6. Price: $ 19.00
Der Autor, Professor für vergleichende Literaturwis-
senschaft und Völkerkunde der Universität von New
York, bietet im vorliegenden Werk einen originellen
Beitrag zur interkulturellen Hermeneutik. Als Weg des
Verstehens wählt er die schöpferische Phantasie, wie
sie sich u. a. in Literatur und Kunst, aber auch in der
Mythologie der Völker ausdrückt, als Auslegungshori-
zont menschlicher Erfahrung und ihrer lebensweltlichen
Deutung. Der Horizont, in dem Gespräche und Texte
verständlich werden, liegt ja nie ausformuliert vor. Zu-
viel Unartikulierbares spielt mit. Genau dem geht der
Verfasser nach, indem er in der Auseinandersetzung mit
Literatur, soziologischen, psychologischen und philoso-
phischen Untersuchungen und einer Fülle von ethno-
logischem Material die das Verstehen (mit-)prägende
Kraft schöpferischen Phantasie als Verstehenshorizont
eruiert. Dabei spürt man immer wieder das Bemühen
des Ethnologen, nicht einfach über andere Menschen
und Kulturen zu schreiben, sondern sie als Dialogpartner
emstzunehmen. Das Buch basiert auf einer Vorlesung,
die der Autor auf Einladung des Frobenius-Institutes und
Literaturhauses in Frankfurt unter dem Titel “Auf dem
Weg zu einer Anthropologie der Phantasie” gehalten hat.
Der Verfasser interessiert sich im 1. Kapitel, “Ima-
ginative Horizons”, für den Grenzbereich, in dem der
raum-zeitliche Wirklichkeitshorizont in den Bereich der
Vorstellung und schöpferischen Phantasie verschwimmt
und so ein Hinterland reiner Möglichkeit von Wunsch
und Angst eröffnet wird, das vom Druck der Realität
entlastet. Eben das wird an der Erfahrung konkreter
Völker und literarischer und philosophischer Reflexion
dargestellt.
Entsprechend wird im 2. Kapitel, “The Between”, die
Bedeutung der Zwischenräume zwischen den Worten
und dem gemeinten Sinn beschrieben. Auch hier wird an
konkreten und gegensätzlichen Beispielen der Schlüssel
zum Verstehen gesucht. Das “Dazwischen” von Ereig-
nissen und nicht beschreibbaren sozialen Beziehungen
entgeht, trotz allgemeiner Sprachkenntnisse, dem Un-
eingeweihten. So können etwa die Apachen durch das
Anthropos 101.2006
596
Rezensionen
Nennen von Ortsnamen zu Heilungs- und Erziehungs-
zwecken in Tagträumen ihre Vorfahren und längst ver-
gangene Ereignisse aufleben lassen. Ein Hinweis auf die
Möglichkeit grundverschiedener Epistemologien.
Das 3. Kapitel, “Body, Pain, and Trauma”, untersucht
den Einfluss von Körper und Schmerz auf den jeweiligen
Sprachgebrauch, etwa die nicht mit Masochismus zu
verwechselnde rituelle Schmerzzufügung in bestimmten
Kulturen und ihre Wirkung auf Bewusstsein, Gedächtnis
und Sprache.
Eindrucksvoll kommt im 4. Kapitel, “Hope”, das
Problem einer interkulturellen Hermeneutik zur Geltung;
Ist Hoffnung eine universale allen Menschen in mehr
oder weniger gleicher Weise vertraute Idee oder die
Reflexion einer universalen Eigenschaft sozialer Organi-
sation? Erreichen unsere phänomenologischen Zugänge
zum Thema Hoffnung die eigenen Beschreibungen der
jeweiligen Kulturen, die in der je eigenen Sprache und
Grammatik verwurzelt sind, oder vereinnahmen wir?
Wie ist das Verhältnis von Hoffnung und Begehren?
Welche religiösen und eschatologischen Grundeinstel-
lungen sind wirksam? Welche Bedeutung hat unsere
zeitliche Verfassung?
Das 5. Kapitel, “The Transgressive and the Erotic”,
knüpft an George Batailles Begriff des Erotismus an, der
in Erotik den mystischen Überstieg ins Transzendente
sieht. Auch hier sind in unterschiedlichen kulturellen
Gestalten Annäherungen an die Transzendenz und We-
ge zur Überwindung von Schmerz und Leid gesucht.
Der Überstieg, auch die Übertretung, wird als erlaubte
gesellschaftliche Konvention gewertet.
Das 6. Kapitel, “Remembrance”, thematisiert als
Sich-Erinnem einen Prozess, der nicht einfach historisch
korrekt wiedergibt, was war, sondern das spannungsrei-
che Verhältnis zwischen Beziehungs- und Erläuterungs-
funktion analysiert, wie es sich für den einzelnen in
Traumata und für die Gemeinschaft in Denkmälern und
anderen Erinnerungszeichen fixiert.
Das letzte Kapitel, “World-Ending”, geht auf Vor-
stellungen von Tod und Weitende, auf unterschiedliche
apokalyptische Erwartungen der verschiedensten Kultu-
ren ein und schließt mit der Einsicht: Tod ist nicht mehr
ein Ereignis unseres Lebens und das Weitende gehört
nicht mehr zur Welt, und gibt zu bedenken: Sind wir
nicht gehalten, den Horizont unserer Phantasie, so gut
wir können, ständig zu erweitern, trotz des Schreckens
und bisweilen auch der Freude, die solche Ausweitung
auslöst, und wäre ihre Beendigung nicht auch eine Art
Sterben?
Das Buch besticht u. a. durch die reiche Fülle eth-
nologischer Forschungsergebnisse und literarischer und
humanwissenschaftlicher Texte und Vergleiche.
Josef Salmen
Dacher, Michèle : Cent ans au village. Chronique
familiale gouin (Burkina Faso). Paris ; Éditions Kartha-
la, 2005. 399 pp. ISBN 2-84586-602-X. Prix : €29.00
Usually, field researches lead to the publication of
monographs describing the investigated culture in the
way of Marcel Mauss as a “total social fact” or focusing
on one aspect of the social reality bringing out its
underlying dimensions. The book of M. Dacher does
not follow these two common approaches. It concerns
neither a defined aspect of culture nor an ethnic group as
a whole. The author focuses in her study on the life of
a group of people related by kinship, marriage, or other
formal relationships. She describes the history of a large
family, belonging to the Guin (Cerma) people, living
in a village in southeastern Burkina Faso, Gbindougou,
covering a period of over 100 years, beginning at the
end of the 19th century.
The book is based on fieldwork that was conducted
during thirty years among the presented people. The
author shared the conditions of life with the local people
during long months of research periods. This allowed the
author not only to do standard participant observation,
but also enabled her to create strong bonds of friendship
and sympathy. The direct contact with the studied
people helped her to make observations. However, the
main source of information for the book is interviews
with the social actors. The author’s relationship with
them became, over time, less and less formalized,
being transformed into free expressions of mind and
feelings. The long time spent in the village permitted
the author to witness social changes. The concentration
of her research on only one large family allowed
her to understand the dynamics of getting married, to
determine the sources of conflicts, divorces and breaking
up of the family, to discover the relations of kinship and
hierarchy, and to comprehend the rules of propriety and
power.
The first part of the book describes the life of the
founder of this large family (who is named Kamon), who
lived at the beginning of the 20th century. Information
about him and his period were given by his descendants.
Therefore, his features are idealized, presented with the
reverence proper to the ancestors. The author inscribed
skillfully this personality into the historical context: the
reign of Samory Toure, French colonization, colonial
administration, hard labor, etc. The prime preoccupation
of the founder was the creation of the base of a strong
lineage through multiple and advantageous matrimonial
bonds. But the force of the lineage consists not only
of the number of its members. The founder of the
studied family largely exceeded the model of life,
commonly accepted by the Gouin. In the rainy season,
he was a farmer; in the dry season, however, he was
a hunter, soldier, and slave trader. More than that, he
was a famous healer, diviner, and possessor of invisible
powers. His rich capacities not only made him known
in all the country, but also reinforced his power.
The life of the descendants of the founder forms
the second part of the book. It is a long discourse
because of the number of children the founder left, and
because of the fact that among this generation the author
found many informants. The relationships in the family
became more and more complex, because of the custom
of wife inheritance that adds further relationships to the
family structure. Among the matrilineal Gouin it is not a
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
597
son but a nephew who inherits the widows. On the other
hand, the Gouin know a type of preferential marriage:
according to its rule the granddaughter (daughter of
the daughter) should be returned to the family of her
grandfather as a wife. In the past the Gouin also married
their slaves. The slave was automatically accepted in the
matrilineage of its possessor. The children born of the
union with a slave were members of the matrilineage
of their fathers. In effect, they had as heirs a double
affinity, with fathers and their matrilineages.
The third part of the book concentrates on the gener-
ation of grandchildren of the founder. The representative
of this generation is a young man named Diellon who
is one of the main informants of the author. His life is
presented in close detail. He represents the generation of
people who have to live in a partly destroyed traditional
structure, on the shaken foundations of economical, po-
litical, and social relationships. The agricultural goods
controlled by the elders of the village are replaced by
earned money. In fact, at the end of the 20th century the
people emigrated in masses to the Ivory Cost in search of
wage-work. The villagers are open to new relationships.
The old matrimonial unions, hitherto arranged and strict-
ly controlled according to cultural rules, shifted to a free
choice of spouses. But, sensitive to social affiliations,
every Gouin, for the sake of respect, tries to legitimize
his unions through traditional procedures, especially by
paying the bridewealth.
The book of M. Dacher is not the saga of the
clan of Kamon, but is a detailed study of the life of
the Gouin family. First of all, the reader can learn
much about matrimonial policy, on which wealth and
success depend. For Gouin, like for most peoples of
Africa, the model of life is health understood not only
as an absence of pain, but especially as a force of
relationships between the visible and the invisible world
of nature, people, and spirits. A good matrimonial policy
increases the number of wives and children, that results
in the augmentation of the force of production and,
subsequently, of income which permits to get more
wives. The circle is then closed. The big, strong family
ensures the future of the lineage. But, to guarantee the
success of the family, it is not enough to be a skillful
negotiator and to have money. Every traditional African
peasant tries to find the protection and support of the
invisible forces. Being conscious of that, the author
presents a valuable description of the forces, which are
in possession of the family of Kamon.
The text of the book excels because of its precision of
description in a vivid imagery and flowing style. When
the narration seems to be complicated, Dacher presents
the necessary explanations showing her excellent ethno-
graphic knowledge. From time to time she cuts the
impersonal narration including more personal excurses
°f related facts. She presents the members of the family
With whom she spent a long time, who are both infor-
mants and actors of this ethnological story. “Cent ans au
village” is not just a chronicle of a family, as marked in
the title, but is a profound analysis of peasant life which
links the biographical method with methods usually used
by anthropologists. The reader will be enriched not only
by learning the joys, loves, desires, intrigues, conflicts,
and hates of an African family, but also by the basic
knowledge of the actual functioning of its matrimonial
and familial relations. The book constitutes an important
study of the matrilineal family and is supported by clear
tables and diagrams. The long-term research periods
allowed the author to study the transformations in the
matrimonial policy which occur through the opening of
the lineage society under the pressure of economic and
social changes. The reader can be intimidated by the
size of the book, but once the reading begins, it is hard
to stop it. Jacek Jan Pawlik
Delarozière, Marie-Françoise : L’art du cuir en
Mauritanie, ou le raffinement nomade. Aix-en-Provence :
Éditions Édisud, 2005. 95 pp. ISBN 2-7449-0554-2.
Prix : € 15.00
Voici un livre qui, certes, réjouira les amateurs
d’un authentique artisanat traditionnel aussi flamboyant
que celui de l’art du cuir mauritanien. L’ouvrage, de
dimension modeste, ne cherche nullement à faire le tour
de la question, mais plutôt à susciter un nouveau regard
sur une tradition exceptionnelle, malheureusement en
voie de disparition. Comme le souligne l’auteur, qui
s’est attaché davantage aux aspects esthétiques de cet
artisanat qu’à sa valeur sociologique ou symbolique,
l’art du cuir en Mauritanie plonge ses racines dans la
nature environnante, même et surtout si celle-ci s’avère
souvent âpre et difficile comme peut l’être le Sahara
mauritanien, une des régions parmi les plus arides de
l’Afrique de l’Ouest aux dires de Théodore Monod.
On notera tout spécialement dans cet ouvrage la
qualité des dessins et les superbes illustrations de sacs
de voyage, sacs à grains, sacs à thé et à sucre, coussins,
nattes et tapis de tentes, selles de dromadaire ou de che-
val, tabatières à nombreux rabats, sandales et ceintures,
etc., tous ces objets faisant partie de l’univers quoti-
dien du nomade, sans oublier l’outillage et la technique
du travail des peaux et de leurs savants décors très
colorés.
Il y a quelque chose ici qui rappelle les travaux
de Jean Gabus, lequel avait accompli de nombreuses
recherches dans le domaine de l’artisanat saharien,
notamment dans la région de Boutilimit en Mauritanie. Il
avait eu à cette époque l’idée d’inviter à l’accompagner
sur le terrain un peintre suisse, Hans Emi. Le résultat
avait donné lieu à une remarquable exposition au Musée
d’ethnographie de Neuchâtel en 1957, ainsi qu’à de
très beaux livres aujourd’hui épuisés. Aussi, on ne
peut que se féliciter d’avoir en main celui de Marie-
Françoise Delarozière, à qui l’on doit déjà d’autres
publications très spécialisées, en particulier sur les perles
de Mauritanie et celles de l’Afrique de l’Ouest.
Claude Savary
Dening, Greg: Beach Crossings. Voyaging across
Times, Cultures, and Self. Philadelphia: University of
Anthropos 101.2006
598
Rezensionen
Pennsylvania Press, 2004. 376 pp. ISBN 0-8122-3849-4.
Price: $ 45.00
Beim vorliegenden Werk des australischen Histori-
kers Greg Dening handelt es sich um eine ethnohis-
torische Rekonstruktion von Kulturkontakten auf den
Marquesas, gleichzeitig aber auch um den zusammen-
fassenden Rückblick auf eine wissenschaftliche Karri-
ere. Damit entzieht sich das Buch jedem Versuch einer
eindeutigen inhaltlichen Charakterisierung: Es enthält
zwar historische Darstellungen, aber es handelt sich
nicht um eine rein historische Abhandlung; es setzt sich
mit der Ethnographie der Region auseinander, ist aber
kein ausschließlich ethnologisches Werk; schließlich
enthält es auch autobiographische Daten und persönliche
Betrachtungen des Autors, stellt aber trotzdem keine
Autobiographie dar.
Anders als sonst in vielen Arbeiten zur Geschichte
des Pazifik üblich, trennt der Autor nicht zwischen der
Geschichte der europäischen Entdecker und der Eth-
nographie der Südseeinsulaner. Er beschreibt vielmehr
das Aufeinandertreffen beider Parteien, indem er die
Insulaner als aktive historische Persönlichkeiten und die
Europäer wiederum auch als Objekte ethnologischer Be-
trachtungen darstellt. Gleichzeitig reflektiert Dening auf
dem Hintergrund der allgemeinen Forschungsgeschichte
seine eigenen wissenschaftlichen Beiträge sowie seinen
eigenen persönlichen Zugang zum Thema.
In “Beach Crossings” erzählt Dening die Kontaktge-
schichte von Polynesiern und europäischen Entdeckern,
Seeleuten oder Missionaren, die “am Strand” - dem
ersten Ort der Begegnung - ihren Anfang nimmt. Sei-
ne Quellen sind sowohl die historischen Berichte und
Schriften aus der Zeit der ersten Kontakte als auch
die entsprechende Literatur wie z. B. die Romane Her-
mann Melvilles. Sein Stil ist nicht der einer nüchter-
nen Aufzählung geschichtlicher Daten und Vorgänge,
sondern viel eher der einer literarischen Rekonstruktion
historischer Ereignisse.
Am Anfang steht ein erstes “beach Crossing” (1),
nämlich die Besiedlung Fenua’enatas (Marquesas) vom
polynesischen Kemland, den Inselgruppen Samoa, Ton-
ga und Fiji aus. In einem Prolog (1-9) beschreibt
Dening Aufbruch, Seereise und Landnahme der ersten
Siedler so, wie sie den archäologischen und ethnographi-
schen Quellen nach stattgefunden haben könnten. Der
Autor würdigt hier die außerordentliche Leistung der
polynesischen Erstsiedler und macht eines ganz deut-
lich: die Geschichte der pazifischen Inseln und ihrer
Bewohner beginnt längst vor dem Einfluss europäischer
Menschen und Mächte! Als Geschichtsschreiber sieht
sich Dening in einer Zwischenposition zwischen der
“Meeres- und der Landseite des Strandes”. Als Eth-
nohistoriker wird er zum Vermittler zwischen der Ge-
schichte der Polynesier und der der Europäer im Pazi-
fik. In seiner Einleitung “Beginning” (11-22) verdeut-
licht er diese Stellung als Autor, indem er über seine
Motivationen und Vorgehensweisen beim Schreiben be-
richtet.
Am besten erschließt sich der Inhalt des Buches,
wenn man sich vor der Lektüre des Textes mit sei-
ner eher ungewöhnlichen Gestaltung und Strukturie-
rung befasst. Wie um Assoziationen mit dem Ort der
Geschichte - dem pazifischen Ozean - zu erwecken,
wird die Farbe Blau als dominierendes Gestaltungsmittel
eingesetzt; Der Druck besteht durchgehend aus blauer
statt schwarzer Schrift; alle Karten, Bilder und Grafiken
erscheinen nicht als schwarzweiße, sondern als blau-
weiße Abbildungen. Die Farbe Blau unterstreicht auch
die inhaltliche Struktur des Buches. Es enthält sieben
durchnummerierte Kapitel in blauem Druck auf weißem
Papier. Zu Beginn eines jeden Kapitels steht eine blaue
Seite mit Zusatzinformationen zur besseren Einordnung
des Themas. Jedem nummerierten Kapitel folgt ein nicht
nummeriertes Kapitel in blauem Druck auf blassblauem
Papier.
Die Geschichte des Kulturkontakts auf den Marque-
sas findet sich in den “weißen” Kapiteln: Das erste
Kapitel “Writing the Beach” (23-43) behandelt grund-
legende europäische Quellen und deren Entstehungsge-
schichte: Die beiden Abenteurer Edward Robarts und
Joseph Kabris brachten ihre Erfahrungen und Erlebnis-
se unter den Marquesem zu Papier. Die Berichte des
Missionars William Pascoe Crook wurden zusammen
mit den Informationen seines jungen polynesischen Be-
gleiters Timotete von Samuel Greatheed aufgezeichnet.
Alle drei Manuskripte wurden in europäischen Archiven
bewahrt, wo sie vom Historiker Dening aufgefunden,
gelesen und ediert wurden.
Das Kapitel “Being There” (55-98) ist dem Ort
der Geschichte gewidmet. Dening beschreibt hier die
Marquesas u. a. aus der Sicht Gauguins und Melvilles.
In “By Sea to the Beach” (113-135) begegnen wir
erneut dem walisischen Walfänger Robarts, dem franzö-
sischen Kriegsgefangenen Kabris und dem englischen
Missionar Crook. Wir erfahren, auf welchem Weg es
sie auf die Marquesas verschlägt. Unter der Überschrift
“Finding the Land” (149-166) stellt Dening die Aus-
tronesische Wanderung und die Besiedlung der polyne-
sischen Inselwelt dar. Das Kapitel “Encompassing the
Land” (185-223) enthält eine ethnologische Übersicht
über das Leben der Marqueser, ihre gesellschaftlichen
und religiösen Institutionen.
Das Kapitel “The Strangers Come” (235-257) erzählt
davon, wie sich die Begegnungen der Marqueser mit
der Besatzung europäischer Handels- und Kriegsschiffe
gestalten. In “On the Beach” (269-315) treffen wir
schließlich wieder auf Robarts, Kabris und Crook, um
zu erfahren, wie sie mit den Einheimischen auf den
Marquesas Zusammenleben. Die Schicksale des wali-
sischen Walfängers Robarts, des französischen Kriegs-
gefangenen Kabris und des zum Scheitern verurteilten
Missionars Crook ziehen sich wie ein Leitfaden durch
Denings historische Darstellungen; denn es ist vor allem
die Geschichte der kleinen Leute (12), die er darstellen
möchte.
Bei den “blauen” Kapiteln, den “Crossings”, handelt
es sich nicht um Unterabschnitte oder um Überleitungen,
sondern vielmehr um Unterbrechungen der Kapitelab-
folge. Dening selbst möchte sie als Monologe eines
Bühnenstückes verstanden wissen, die seine Erzählun-
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
599
gen unterbrechen und ihn als Geschichtenerzähler in
die Geschichte einbringen. Seiner Überzeugung nach
schreibt man akademische Texte nicht aus einer sach-
lichen, unpersönlichen Distanz heraus, sondern ist als
Schreibender immer auch Teil der Geschichte; “Better to
be occasionally seen than to hide” (44). Die “Crossings”
haben autobiographischen Charakter. Sie beschreiben
die Momente von Denings Lebensgeschichte, in de-
nen er beim Lernen, Studieren und Forschen Leiden-
schaft und Verständnis für die Geschichte Ozeaniens ent-
wickelte - es sind die Momente, die ihn zum Erzähler
und Historiker pazifischer Geschichten und Geschichte
legitimieren (44).
Auf den “blauen” Seiten lernt der Leser den Autor
der “weißen” Kapitel näher kennen. Die “Crossings”
bilden den eigentlichen autobiographischen Strang,
der sich wie ein roter Faden durch das Buch zieht.
Dening berichtet sehr persönlich über seinen Werde-
gang als Historiker und über die Erlebnisse und Be-
gegnungen, die ihn während seiner Arbeit inspiriert und
vorangetrieben haben. Er erzählt über seine Ausbildung
im Jesuiten-College, über sein Studium der Geschichte,
über seine Hinwendung zur Ethnologie und seine Arbeit
als Hochschullehrer und wissenschaftlicher Autor. Als
Leser fühlt man sich eingeladen, Dening beim Lesen,
Lernen und Schreiben sozusagen über die Schulter zu
schauen und ihn durch Zeiten des Zweifels, aber auch
der intellektuellen Befriedigung zu begleiten. Dabei
lernt man ungemein viel über Wissenschaftsgeschichte,
den Umgang mit Quellen und die Rolle von Forschem
und Erforschten. Ganz deutlich wird in Denings eige-
ner Beschäftigung mit den unterschiedlichen Fächern
Archäologie, Geschichte und Ethnologie, wie wichtig
interdisziplinäre Studien für Geschichtsrekonstruktionen
im Bereich der Ozeanistik sind. Gleichzeitig erhält man
einen fesselnden Einblick in die kulturwissenschaft-
lichen Arbeiten im Australien der 1950er bis 1970er
Jahre - ein Aspekt, der besonders den mit australischer
Wissenschaftsgeschichte und Theorienbildung wenig
vertrauten europäischen Lesern zugute kommen wird.
Dening, der seine historischen Arbeiten selbst auch
als neomodern charakterisiert (327), erweist sich mit
dem vorliegenden Werk als postmodemer Autor, der
seine Sichtweisen auf dem Hintergmnd des eigenen
Werdegangs stets nachvollziehbar reflektiert. Niemals
kreist er in seinen Texten nur um seine eigene Identität
uls Urheber des Textes oder betreibt er eine unangeneh-
me Nabelschau. Diese so oft gegen andere postmoderne
Arbeiten in der Ethnologie erhobenen Vorwürfe treffen
auf keinen Abschnitt des vorliegenden Buches zu. Sehr
emdringlich macht Dening deutlich, dass die persönliche
Lebensgeschichte und der individuelle Werdegang eines
Wissenschaftlers immer auch die Schlüssel zu dessen
Motivationen und Methoden und damit zu seinen For-
schungsergebnissen liefern.
Als Quellen der Inspiration nennt Dening Forschun-
§£n und Schriften bekannter Ozeanisten und bezieht sich
auf einige wissenschaftliche Kontroversen, die vor allem
ln der Ethnologie ausgetragen wurden. Ethnologen und
besonders den Ozeanisten unter ihnen wird es daher am
leichtesten fallen, sich während des Lesens im Text zu
orientieren. Jedoch machen Denings literarischer Stil,
seine originellen Gedanken und seine methodologischen
Reflektionen das Buch für jeden Kulturwissenschaftler
zur empfehlenswerten Lektüre. Sicherlich werden eini-
ge Leser im Bereich der Kulturwissenschaften “Beach
Crossings” nicht nur mit Freude lesen, sondern darüber
hinaus auch in Greg Dening selbst einen Seelenverwand-
ten entdecken. Eva Ch. Raabe
de Wet, Chris (ed.): Development-induced Dis-
placement. Problems, Policies, and People. New York:
Berghahn Books, 2006. 218 pp. ISBN 1-84545-095-7.
(Studies in Forced Migration, 18) Price: $22.50
Bereits die Zahl der bisher in der Reihe “Forced
Migration” erschienenen Bände - der vorliegende ist
Nr. 18 - deuten auf die traurige Aktualität der Proble-
matik hin. Im Rahmen globaler Bevölkerungsbewegun-
gen, aufgrund von Kriegen, Katastrophen und ungleich
verteilten Ressourcen, ist Migration häufig erzwungen.
Der hier rezensierte Sammelband ist das Ergebnis ei-
nes Projektes des “Refugee Studies Centre” an der
Universität von Oxford. Zentraler Gegenstand ist eine
spezifische Form erzwungener Migration: Development-
induced Displacement (DID). Der Herausgeber wählt
einen für Ethnologen interessanten Zugang zum The-
ma; “Although policy recommendations are made, the
perspective in this current volume is predominantly
analytical, as opposed to its being a ‘framework for
decision-making’ that seeks to arrive at the formulation
of a set of ‘strategic priorities’ and ‘guidelines for good
practice’ (World Commission on Dams 2000: ch. 8 and
9)” (2).
Außer der Einleitung enthält der Band sieben Bei-
träge. Drei der acht Autoren lehren Ethnologie {anthro-
pology), zwei International Studies und International
Development. Mehrere Autoren sind an Forschungszen-
tren tätig, die sich speziell mit Entwicklungsproblemen
oder Migration beschäftigen; Balaji Pandey ist Direk-
tor des “Institute for Socio-Economic Development”
in Bhubaneswar (Orissa, Indien), Alan Rew ist Direk-
tor des “Centre for Development Studies in Swansea”
(Wales) und David Turton ist als Senior Research
Associate am “Refugee Studies Center” (Oxford).
Die in der Einleitung angekündigte analytische Per-
spektive wird vor allem im ersten Beitrag von David
Turton umgesetzt. Er fragt: “Who is a Forced Migrant?”
Klassifikationsschemata und Abgrenzungen von “re-
fugees”, “forced migrants”, “DIDPs” (Development-
induced Displaced Peoples) und “disaster displacees”
sind vor allem auf politischen und rechtlichen Grund-
lagen entstanden. Flüchtlinge über nationale Grenzen
hinweg haben Anspruch auf Schutz und andere Rechte
als intranationale “displaced persons”. Turton plädiert
dafür, sich aus wissenschaftlicher Sicht nicht an diesen
Kategorien zu orientieren, sondern statt der Ursache für
die Migration, Erfahrungen von Migranten in den Mit-
telpunkt zu stellen. Migrationsstudien sollten in erster
Linie Kategorien nutzen, die den Vergleich erleichtern
Anthropos 101.2006
600
Rezensionen
und dadurch das Gesamtphänomen in einem neuen Licht
erscheinen lassen. Dies sei bei politischen Kategorien
nicht unbedingt der Fall.
Auf diesen notwendigen und programmatischen Ar-
tikel folgen Beiträge, die sich mit spezifischen Aspek-
ten des DID beschäftigen. Alan Rew, Eleanor Fisher
und Balaji Pandey geben einen vergleichenden Über-
blick über die politische Praxis von entwicklungsindu-
zierten Umsiedlungsprogrammen in Ostindien (Orissa,
Bihar und Westbengalen) und Afrika (Uganda, Kenia
und Tansania) und deren Probleme. Deutlich wird, dass
es auf dem komplexen Weg von der Entscheidungs-
ebene bis zur lokalen Umsetzung sehr viele Quellen
für Missverständnisse, Schwierigkeiten und Fehlschläge
gibt. Die Autoren kommen zu dem Fazit: “Perhaps the
only foolproof mechanism for ensuring a higher level of
success is to ensure that a common understanding/vision
of aims is maintained; and that successive levels of
subordinates are held accountable to it” (67).
Michael Barutciski stellt in seinem Beitrag den nach
wie vor vernachlässigten Aspekt des internationalen
Rechts in Bezug auf DIDR (Development-induced Dis-
placement and Resettlement) und internationale Men-
schenrechtsnormen dar. Sein Überblick gibt eine knappe
und hilfreiche Einführung in den Bereich des internatio-
nalen Rechts. Der Artikel von Dolores Koenig (Enhan-
cing Local Development in Development-induced Dis-
placement and Resettlement Projects) betont besonders
den Aspekt der “Entwicklung”. In der Vergangenheit sei
deutlich geworden, dass diejenigen, die durch Entwick-
lungsprojekte gezwungen wurden, ihren ursprünglichen
Lebensraum zu verlassen, meist nicht von der Entwick-
lung profitiert haben. Sie geht vor allem den Fragen
nach: Darf Entwicklung ein Argument für Umsied-
lungsprogramme sein? Wie kann dafür gesorgt werden,
dass umgesiedelte Personen tatsächlich wirtschaftlich
profitieren? Dabei berücksichtigt sie stärker als frühere
Autoren politische Aspekte der Marginalisierung und
Machtverteilung. Eine stärkere Einbeziehung der Betrof-
fenen in die Planung und Durchführung von Umsied-
lungsprogrammen, die Wahlmöglichkeiten offen lassen,
sieht sie als wichtigen Schritt zur langfristigen Verbes-
serung der wirtschaftlichen Situation aller Beteiligten.
Gelingt die Vermittlung der Ziele und die Beteiligung
der Betroffenen nicht, ist Widerstand gegen Umsied-
lungsprogramme wahrscheinlich. Mit der Frage lokaler
Widerstandsformen und auch den dadurch eröffneten
Chancen befasst sich Anthony Oliver-Smiths Beitrag.
Vor allem der Verlust des Rechts auf Selbstbestimmung
führt zu Ablehnung von Projekten. Widerstandsgruppen
fordern, dass Entwicklung ein demokratischer Prozess
sein muss, der dem Staat nicht das uneingeschränkte
Recht gibt, Menschen umzusiedeln, und bei dem auch
angemessene Kompensation, lokale Rechtsvorstellun-
gen und lokales Wissen berücksichtigt werden müssen.
Quantitative und qualitative Aspekte von Entwicklung
sollten untersucht und Entscheidungen in dialogischer
Auseinandersetzung getroffen werden.
Chris de Wet geht in seinem Beitrag zu Risiko, Kom-
plexität und lokalen Initiativen in erzwungener Umsied-
lung darauf ein, dass die meisten Umsiedlungsprozesse,
abgesehen von wenigen ermutigenden Beispielen, nicht
erfolgreich waren. Mit Misserfolg meint er, dass die
soziale und wirtschaftliche Situation der umgesiedelten
Personen sich nicht nachhaltig verbessert hat. Es gibt
zwei Ansätze, die das Scheitern zu erklären versuchen.
Einer kann als “inadequate inpuf’-Ansatz bezeichnet
werden. Dieser geht davon aus, dass Defizite in den
Inputs, in der Finanzierung, Planung, politischen Durch-
setzung, Organisation und Durchführung die Ursachen
für Verarmung sind. De Wet vertritt dagegen einen
“inherent complexities”-Ansatz. Aus dieser Sicht sind
Risiken in der Komplexität von Umsiedlungen per se
enthalten und nicht direkt von der Quantität und Qualität
der oben genannten Inputs abhängig. Der komplexe Pro-
zess der Umsiedlung spielt sowohl auf der individuellen
bzw. Haushaltsebene, auf der Ebene der Gemeinde, als
auch auf der nationalen sowie internationalen Ebene eine
Rolle. Auf allen Ebenen ist dieser Prozess des DIDs von
verschiedenen wahrgenommenen Risiken begleitet. Wie
mit diesen Risiken umgegangen wird, bestimmt letztlich
den Erfolg eines Projekts.
Der Sammelband schließt mit einem Abschnitt, der
politische Empfehlungen, Hinweise für die Praxis und
Anregungen für künftige Forschungen zusammenfasst,
in den die Ergebnisse der Einzelbeiträge einfließen.
“Development-induced Displacement” gibt einen guten
Überblick über komplexe theoretische, politische und
wirtschaftliche Probleme eines spezifischen Bereichs der
Migration und Entwicklungsdebatte. Das Buch ist eine
nützliche Einführung, Grundlage für die Praxis und
möglicher Ausgangspunkt für weitere wissenschaftliche
Studien. Bettina Beer
Drotbohm, Heike: Geister in der Diaspora. Haitia-
nische Diskurse über Geschlechter, Jugend und Macht
in Montreal. Marburg: Curupira, 2005. 455 pp. ISBN
3-8185-0415-6. (Reihe Curupira, 21) Preis: €25.00
Seit den Zeiten des transatlantischen Sklavenhandels,
als überwiegend West-, aber auch Zentralafrikaner auf
die Großen und Kleinen Antillen als Feld- und Haus-
Sklaven verschleppt wurden, haben sich Afrohaitianer in
einem bis heute anhaltenden Kreolisierungsprozess un-
terschiedliche Elemente der materiellen wie der ideellen
Kulturen Afrikas, des indigenen Haiti, kolonialen Frank-
reich, des Katholizismus, des Freimaurertums, des Mi-
litärs sowie in allerjüngster Zeit der US-amerikanischen
Popkultur angeeignet, diese Elemente umgedeutet und
zu etwas Neuem, dem spirituell wie ästhetisch befriedi-
genden religiösen System des haitianischen Vodou, zu-
sammengesetzt. Der Vodou, der alle Lebensbereiche der
Haitianer durchdringt und die Art und Weise prägt, wie
Haitianer die Welt - und die menschliche Existenz in
ihr - wahrnehmen, deuten und mit Sinn erfüllen, erweist
sich als ein äußerst bewegliches religiöses System. Tra-
ditionell vor allem die Religion der ländlichen Bevölke-
rung Haitis, findet der Vodou auch in den Großstädten
eine ständig wachsende Anhängerschaft. Und mit den
Haitianern, die der Armut, Arbeitslosigkeit, Gewalt und
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
601
politischen Unterdrückung in ihrem Land nach Nord-
amerika und Europa entfliehen, gelangt der Vodou in
die Metropolen dieser westlichen Welt. Gerade auch
hier in der Diaspora zeigt sich angesichts der Heraus-
forderungen eines Lebens in der Fremde die schöpfe-
rische Anpassungsfähigkeit des Vodou. Denn offenbar
gelingt es nicht nur einem großen Teil der haitianischen
Bevölkerung, sondern auch der haitianischen Migranten,
oft problematische Lebensbedingungen mit Hilfe der
symbolischen Sprache des Vodou zu artikulieren, zu
deuten und zu bewältigen.
Obwohl der haitianische Vodou bereits seit beinahe
100 Jahren sowohl von einheimischen als auch ausländi-
schen Ethnologen erforscht wird, macht ihn seine Wand-
lungsfähigkeit bis in die Gegenwart hinein zu einem
schier unerschöpflichen Forschungsthema. Entsprechend
ist die Fülle der schon existierenden Studien kaum noch
zu überblicken, und jedes Jahr kommen neue hinzu,
zumal sich dem Vodou in Haiti der Vodou in Brooklyn,
New York, Paris und nun auch Montreal hinzugesellt
hat.
Das vorliegende Buch von Heike Drotbohm, als Dis-
sertation in Marburg entstanden, beeindruckt zunächst
einmal durch seinen Umfang. 455 Seiten, davon vier
Seiten Inhaltsverzeichnis, 412 Textseiten, drei Seiten
Glossar, 25 Seiten Bibliographie mit beinahe 600 Ein-
trägen, machen es zu einem dickleibigen Werk, in dem
erkennbar viel Arbeit im Sinne von umfangreichem Li-
teraturstudium sowie eigener Feldforschung in Montreal
steckt. Es ist in drei, vom Umfang her sehr unter-
schiedliche, Teile gegliedert, die von einer ausführli-
chen Einleitung (30 Seiten) und einem kurzen Resümee
(6 Seiten) eingerahmt sind.
In der Einleitung (9-35) erläutert die Autorin ihren
Zugang zum Thema und benennt die Fragen, die ihre
Forschung leiteten: Welche Bedeutung hat der Vodou
für Haitianer in Kanada, welche Rolle spielt er im
Alltagsleben und welche Beziehung ist zu den sozialen
Realitäten der Migranten erkennbar? Hier kommt sie
sowohl auf die von ihr selbst verwendeten Forschungs-
methoden (beobachtende Teilnahme an öffentlichen Er-
eignissen, Festen, Zeremonien und Priesterkonsultatio-
nen sowie Gespräche mit Priesterinnen und Priestern,
Vodouisten und anderen Haitianern) als auch auf die
eigenen textlichen Darstellungsformen im Sinne eines
“Präsentmachen der Anderen” und einer “größtmögli-
chen Transparenz” zu sprechen. Der individuelle Akteur
und dessen subjektive Wahrnehmung sollen im Zen-
trum der Darstellung stehen, was die Autorin mit Hilfe
ausführlicher Zitate, die die individuelle Sprech- und
Ausdrucksweise ihrer Gesprächspartner erkennen lassen
sollen, zu erreichen hofft.
Doch dann, in Teil 1 (37-84), führt die Autorin
zunächst einmal in neuere theoretische Ansätze zur Er-
forschung der Migration, des Transnationalismus, der
Geschlechter- und Generationenbeziehungen sowie des
kulturellen Gedächtnisses ein, um in einem weiteren
Schritt die Migration von Haitianern nach Kanada, ge-
uauer; in das frankophone Quebec und hier zu 90 %
Uach Montreal, nachzuzeichnen. Bis Mitte der 1960er
Jahre kamen, wie sie schreibt, aus politischen Gründen
vor allem Angehörige der städtischen Elite Haitis nach
Montreal; eine Elite, die, wie aus der Haiti-Forschung
bekannt ist, Französisch spricht, hellhäutig, akademisch
gebildet und katholisch ist, die Wirtschaft, Politik und
Administration des Landes kontrolliert und sich von der
großen Mehrheit der sehr armen Landbevölkerung und
des städtischen Proletariats abgrenzt - eine Bevölke-
rung smehrheit, die schwarz ist, Kreolisch spricht, “den
Geistern dient”, unter wirtschaftlicher Ausbeutung, poli-
tischer Unterdrückung, sozialer Unsicherheit, unter Ar-
beitslosigkeit und unter Naturkatastrophen zu leiden hat.
In den 1970er Jahren wanderten dann, der Autorin zu-
folge, Arbeiter mit niedrigem Bildungsniveau, danach
unqualifizierte Arbeiter und Bauern nach Kanada aus.
Heute leben etwa 40.000-70.000 Haitianer in Montreal,
die hier - nach Darstellung der Autorin - alle Margi-
nalisierung, Ausschluss, Stigmatisierung und Rassismus
erfahren (jedoch Angehörige der Bildungselite sicherlich
nicht auf gleiche Weise wie Arbeiter und Bauern, wie
ich ein wenden möchte).
Teil 2 (85-204) beginnt mit einer Darstellung der
Geschichte Haitis sowie der Entstehung und Entwick-
lung des Vodou. Im zweiten und letzten Kapitel die-
ses Teils (“Transformationen des haitianischen Vodou
in Montreal”) treten endlich ab S. 115 zum ersten
Mal “individuelle Akteure” in Form von längeren,
ins Deutsche übersetzten Gesprächsausschnitten auf.
Da erzählt eine Ladenbesitzerin, von der man jedoch
nichts weiter erfährt, der Autorin eine Geschichte über
eine dem Wahnsinn verfallene Haitianerin, die den
Vodou-Geistern ihr Kind opferte. Oder Rolande, eine
geschäftstüchtige Mittvierzigerin aus Cap Haitien, die
als Vodou-Priesterin zwar keine Gemeinde leitet, aber
wirtschaftlich erfolgreich eine multiethnische Klientel
bedient und von der haitianischen Gemeinschaft in Mon-
treal mit Misstrauen bedacht sowie der Schadensmagie
verdächtigt wird, schildert ihre Berufung durch die Geis-
ter und ihre Heilertätigkeit. Florence, eine angesehene
Vodou-Priesterin, deren Alter und Herkunft im Dunkeln
bleibt, berichtet von ihrer Tätigkeit als spirituelle Hei-
lerin und spricht über einige Fälle, mit denen sie zu tun
hatte. Jocelyne, die bereits Ende der 1970er zusammen
mit 150 anderen Haitianern auf einem Boot der Armut
Haitis entflohen ist und keiner Vodou-Gemeinde an-
gehört, erzählt von ihrer individuellen Beziehung zu den
Vodou-Geistern, denen sie mit Nahrungs- und Trank-
opfem an einem Hausaltar dient.
Zwar gelingt es der Autorin meines Erachtens weder
so recht, die “individuellen Sprech- und Ausdrucks-
weisen” ihrer Gesprächspartnerinnen in der deutschen
Übersetzung zu bewahren, noch “die Anderen präsent
zu machen”, da sie diese “Anderen” viel zu selten als
lebendige Personen mit individuellen Besonderheiten
und sozialen Gruppenzugehörigkeiten (etwa aufgrund
von Alter, Herkunft, Bildung, Klasse, “Rasse” usw.)
charakterisiert. Doch enthält dieser Teil viele interessan-
te Informationen über die Bedeutung des Vodou für
Haitianer in Montreal, selbst wenn diese sich gar nicht
als Vodouisten verstehen. Da der Vodou nicht nur ei-
Anthropos 101.2006
602
Rezensionen
ne religiöse Praxis, sondern eine Weltanschauung ist,
die das Denken, Wahrnehmen und Interpretieren der
Haitianer prägt, bedienen sich Haitianer der symboli-
schen Sprache des Vodou (z. B. der religiösen Kon-
zepte Geister, Priester/Zauberer, Arbeit mit der rechten
bzw. der linken Hand, Schutz- und Schadensmagie), um
ihre problematischen Lebensbedingungen in Montreal
zu artikulieren, zu deuten und mit Sinn zu erfüllen.
Auffällig ist, dass im Kontext der Diaspora etliche
der religiösen und kosmologischen Konzepte des Vo-
dou in Anpassung an die veränderten Lebensbedingun-
gen einen Bedeutungswandel zu erfahren scheinen, was
die Autorin in ihren Analysen detailliert herausarbeitet.
Doch einige ihrer Analysen sind stark von christlich-
dualistischen Vorstellungen geprägt, so z. B. wenn sie
Konzepte wie Schuld, Sühne, Sünde, Gut und Böse,
die dem Vodou bisher fremd waren, zur Interpretation
heranzieht. Wie beispielsweise der von Donald J. Cosen-
tino 1995 herausgegebene Band “Sacred Arts of Haitian
Vodou”, den auch die Autorin nennt, zeigt, ist es dem
Vodou in Haiti bisher stets gelungen, den Katholizis-
mus zu vodouisieren. Sollte es nun dem Katholizismus
in Quebec gelingen, den Vodou zu katholizieren? Ein
Großteil der Analysen, auch im folgenden Teil, deutet
darauf hin.
In Teil 3 (205-413), vom Umfang her ein Buch für
sich, geht die Autorin der Frage nach, ob der haitiani-
sche Geisterglaube in Montreal Themen und Probleme
reflektiert, die typisch für das Leben der Haitianer im
fremden Kanada sind. Sie beginnt einleitend mit der
Schilderung der eigenen Annäherung an die haitianische
Geisterwelt, stellt dann ethnologische Interpretationen
des Geisterglaubens vor, um schließlich Gestalt, Charak-
ter und Wirken der haitianischen Geister zu beschreiben
und als wesentliche Merkmale ihre Wandlungsfähigkeit,
Widersprüchlichkeit und Vieldeutigkeit herauszustellen.
Dieser Teil ist in drei große Kapitel gegliedert, in denen
die Autorin exemplarisch den Diskurs von Haitianern
in Montreal über drei Geister - Ezili, Ogou und die
Marasa - analysiert. Ezili, der Geist der Liebe, der
in zweifacher Gestalt auftritt - einmal als Ezili Preda,
die Hellhäutige, Rada-Geist der romantischen Liebe, der
Verführung und des Luxus, zum anderen als Ezili Danto,
die Dunkelhäutige, Kämpferin, Petwo-Geist der Mutter-
liebe -, wird von den befragten haitianischen Frauen
und Männern in Montreal sehr unterschiedlich wahrge-
nommen und interpretiert. Während das Verhältnis der
Frauen zu Preda von Misstrauen und Ambivalenz und zu
Danto von Zuneigung und Sympathie geprägt erscheint,
gilt für die Männer das genaue Gegenteil. Während
Frauen in der Promiskuität und im Materialismus der
Preda das Sinnbild des Lebens in Kanada sehen, sehen
Männer in Danto die Verkörperung der furchteinflößen-
den, emanzipierten Frau in Kanada. Hier spiegeln sich,
der Autorin zufolge, die durch die Migration verän-
derten Geschlechterrollen und das veränderte Frauenbild
wider.
Am Beispiel des Diskurses über Ogou, den Kämpfer,
Geist des Krieges und des Widerstands, analysiert Drot-
bohm zunächst das Erinnern an die haitianische Revolu-
tion und ihre Helden in öffentlichen Reden während des
haitianischen “Fête du Drapeau” in Montreal und einige
Kommentare von Festteilnehmern zu diesen Reden, um
dann die Äußerungen einiger ihrer Gesprächspartner,
Männer wie Frauen, zu interpretieren. Für Frauen ist
Ogou der Held, der die haitianischen Sklaven von ih-
ren Unterdrückern befreit hat, starker Beschützer und
verlässliche Vaterfigur. Für Männer, die in Montreal oft
an Einfluss und Unabhängigkeit verlieren, weil Frauen
leichter eine bezahlte Arbeit finden, verkörpert Ogou
außerdem das haitianische Männlichkeitsideal, an dem
sie in der Diaspora scheitern.
Gespräche über die Marasa, die heiligen Zwillinge
des Vodou, Beschützer der Kinder, Verkörperung der
Fruchtbarkeit und des Wohlstands, Sinnbild der biolo-
gischen und kulturellen Reproduktion dienen Drotbohm
als Einstieg in die Erforschung des migrationstypischen
Generationenkonflikts. Gelingt es der Autorin bei der
Generation der Fitem noch, über den Geisterdiskurs
sich der Sicht der Fitem auf ihre Kinder, deren Hoff-
nungen und Sorgen anzunähern, so scheitert diese Vor-
gehensweise bei den befragten Jugendlichen daran, dass
für diese, wie sie schreibt, die Geister des Vodou an
Bedeutung verlieren. Die Autorin suchte deshalb den
Zugang zur Sicht der Jugendlichen auf deren eigene
Welt über die Analyse der Produktion und Rezeption
haitianischer Musik: Rara, Rasin, Rap. Dieser letzte Teil
entfernt sich am weitesten “vom individuellen Akteur
und seinen subjektiven Wahrnehmungen”. Im Zentrum
steht die Analyse einiger Liedtexte der haitianischen
Rap-Gruppe Muzion in Montreal - Texte, die u. a. das
Heimatland Haiti, die Migrationserfahrung, den Gene-
rationenkonflikt thematisieren.
Das Buch von Heike Drotbohm ist eine außerordent-
lich vielstimmige Komposition. Die Stimmen wissen-
schaftlicher Autoren, die in der englischen oder fran-
zösischen Ursprungssprache zitiert werden, sind, den
Anforderungen an eine Dissertation entsprechend, am
deutlichsten zu vernehmen. Auch die Stimme der Au-
torin dringt in den Analysen und Selbstreflexionen klar
hervor. Schade ist nur, dass die Stimmen der “Ande-
ren” lediglich gedämpft in Übersetzung zu hören sind.
Gerade sie hätten es verdient, im französischen oder
kreolischen Original zitiert zu werden.
Eine kleine Anmerkung zum Schluss. Die Klage
darüber, dass wissenschaftliche Prüfungsarbeiten vor
der Dmcklegung nicht mehr lektoriert oder noch ein-
mal redigiert werden, wird schon seit langem geführt.
Dennoch: Formale Unzulänglichkeiten wie Druckfeh-
ler, falsche Worttrennungen, fehlende Satzteile, falsche
Nummerierung der Fußnoten über mehrere Seiten, aber
auch sprachliche Mängel wie weitschweifige Formulie-
rungen und unpassende Wortwahl erschweren das Lesen
und mindern das Vergnügen an einem thematisch inter-
essanten und inhaltlich anspruchsvollen Text.
Sylvia M. Schomburg-Scherff
Erny, Pierre : L’éducation au Rwanda au temps des
rois. Essais sur la tradition culturelle et pédagogique
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
603
d’un pays d’Afrique centrale. Paris : L’Harmattan, 2005.
344 pp. ISBN 2-7475-8275-2. Prix : € 30.50
Pierre Erny, emeritierter Professor für Ethnologie an
der Universität Marc Bloch in Straßburg, hat zahlreiche
Arbeiten zur Erziehung in Afrika, zur Ethnologie und
Anthropologie sowie zum Bildungswesen in Rwanda
veröffentlicht. Emy lehrte von 1973 bis 1976 an der
Nationalen Universität Rwanda und am pädagogischen
Institut, zu einer Zeit, als so genannte “ethnische Kon-
flikte” im Land sehr virulent waren und mittels Staats-
streich die zweite Republik nach der Unabhängigkeit
1962 gegründet wurde.
Die Veröffentlichung “Erziehung in Rwanda während
der Zeit der Könige” stellt einen Versuch dar, in 14
Kapiteln die Rahmenbedingungen für Erziehung und
Erziehungssysteme in der vorkolonialen Gesellschaft in
Rwanda darzustellen. Themen sind: sozioökonomische
Bedingungen und Erziehung, Fragen der klassifikatori-
schen Zuordnung der drei rwandischen Bevölkerungs-
gruppen, Rassen, Ethnien, Kasten, soziale Klassen, das
Leitprinzip der rwandischen Kultur “Ungleichheit”, drei
Subkulturen und drei Erziehungssysteme, der Königshof
als Sozialisationsraum, die Weltanschauung, pädagogi-
sche Konzeptionen, Kindheit und Stufen des Erwachsen-
werdens, Klans, Verwandtschaftsbeziehungen und Erzie-
hung, Heirat und Sexualität, Werte zwischen Gaunerei
und Edelmut, Kunsthandwerk, Kultur und orale Lite-
ratur, Erziehung durch Spiel sowie Denkstrukturen. Es
ist ein ethnologisches Werk, das eine Bestandsaufnah-
me und eine Kompilation von Aussagen, Hypothesen
und Forschungsergebnissen verschiedener Autoren und
Autorinnen ist.
Pierre Erny will deutlich machen, welche Erzie-
hungsmethoden und Inhalte es in der vorkolonialen Zeit
gab, zum Teil heute noch gibt, und dass sie für heutige
Bildungs- und Familienpolitik eine Rolle spielen sollten.
In der Einleitung stellt der Autor fest, dass es schwie-
rig ist, verallgemeinernde Aussagen zu machen, dass die
Gesellschaft dynamisch war, dass die Klassifizierung der
Bevölkerungsgruppen bis heute in der Literatur eine sehr
widersprüchlich behandelte Frage bleibt. Zudem geht er
auf verschiedene Definitionen von Erziehung ein, wobei
anzumerken ist, dass in der französischen Wissenschaft
die Begrifflichkeiten sehr viel anders benutzt werden
als in der deutschen Wissenschaftstradition. So gibt es
zum Beispiel den zentralen Begriff “Bildung” nicht im
Französischen.
Das Buch lässt sich gut lesen, enthält viele Infor-
mationen zur sozialen Kultur und den Lebens- und
Arbeitsbedingungen der rwandischen Bevölkerung. In
deutsch wurden die meisten Inhalte komprimiert in
H. Schürings’ “Rwandische Zivilisation und christlich-
koloniale Herrschaft” veröffentlicht (Frankfurt 1992).
^er Autor gibt vor, aus der geschichtlichen Entwick-
lung, den politischen Strukturen und den Eigenschaften
der Bevölkerung in Rwanda auch Elemente für Er-
klärungsansätze für den Völkermord 1994 liefern zu
können. Er nennt die Kapitel “essais”, was man auch
als “Versuche” übersetzen kann. Diese essais sind aus
dem heutigen Anspruch an Qualität wissenschaftlichen
Arbeitens allerdings nicht sehr gelungen. Emy gibt zwar
umfassend das Wissen wieder, das von verschiedenen
Autoren niedergeschrieben wurde. Aber die kritischen
und relativierenden Aussagen des Einführungskapitels
zu Konzepten und Theorien finden sich in den weiteren
Ausführungen kaum wieder. Wenn ethnologische Arbei-
ten häufig einen eher beschreibenden Charakter haben,
so müssen sie doch gewisse Standards einhalten, z. B.
im Hinblick auf die Objektivität oder Subjektivität der
Datenquellen. Daran setzt die zentrale Kritik an diesem
Werk an.
Die Arbeit beruht insbesondere auf Veröffentlichun-
gen, die während der zunächst deutschen (1897-1916)
und dann belgischen Kolonialzeit (bis 1962) geschrie-
ben wurden. Viele der häufig zitierten Autoren wa-
ren französische Missionare wie de Lacger, Arnoux,
Nothomb, Pagès, die dem Orden für die Missionierung
Afrikas (Weiße Väter) angehörten. Sie verfolgten mit
ihrer Tätigkeit und auch ihren Veröffentlichungen ge-
wisse Interessen: die Christianisierung und die so ge-
nannte Zivilisierung der rwandischen Gesellschaft. Die-
se wurden für die Weißen Väter der größte Erfolg in
der Missionsgeschichte in Afrika. Ein anderer Autor,
der als Quelle dient, ist der rwandische Priester, Philo-
soph, Historiker und Poet Alexis Kagame. Er wurde von
Missionaren erzogen und entsprechend in seinen Analy-
sen und Interpretationen der gesellschaftlichen Entwick-
lung beeinflusst. Auch wenn er für das Geschichtserbe
und besonders die orale Literatur der Gesellschaft in
Rwanda hervorragende Arbeit geleistet hat, so sind auch
seine Arbeiten im historischen Kontext und der damals
üblichen Interpretation der Geschichte zu bewerten.
Alle diese Arbeiten wurden zu einem Zeitpunkt
erstellt, als Rassentheorien gängige Mittel waren, um
gesellschaftliche Differenz und Ungleichheit zu recht-
fertigen. Zudem diente die Literatur häufig dazu, die
“Zivilisierung” und damit Christianisierung dieser
Gesellschaft zu legitimieren, und war Teil, wie René
Lemarchand sagt, der missionarischen Geschichts-
schreibung mit zahlreichen dogmatischen Wertungen.
Eine weitere Quelle sind die Arbeiten des Soziologen
J. J. Maquet, dessen Werke der 1950er Jahre zur “Bibel”
der rwandischen Soziologie wurden. Ein Prinzip der
“Ungleichheit” wurde als zentrales Leitprinzip der rwan-
dischen Gesellschaft herausgestellt. Seine empirischen
Methoden entsprechen jedoch weder den wissenschaft-
lichen Standards der 1950er Jahre noch der heutigen
Zeit. Sein Werk beruhte auf Interviews einer kleinen
Gruppe, die die herrschende Kultur repräsentierten, re-
produzierten und zu ihren Gunsten interpretierten. Del
Perugia, ebenfalls zitiert, ein Beamter, der einige Jahre
in Rwanda lebte, lässt in seinem Buch seiner Phantasie
freien Lauf, schreibt äußerst idealisierend und besonders
Elogen auf die herrschenden Gruppen und diskriminiert
die Bevölkerung der Hutu (Les derniers rois mages.
Paris 1978). Eine solche Arbeit sollte nicht als seriöse
Quelle genutzt werden. Weiterhin stützt Emy sich auf
Examensarbeiten rwandischer Studierender an der Uni-
versität Straßburg, die offensichtlich zu dem großen
Schatz an Sprichwörtern beigetragen haben.
Anthropos 101.2006
604
Rezensionen
Neben der mangelnden Quellenkritik fehlen auch
Hinweise auf die Zeit- und Kontextgebundenheit von
Ereignissen und Interpretationen. Der Autor schreibt
zwar in der Einleitung, dass viele Angaben nur für
bestimmte Gruppen oder Regionen zutreffen. Die wei-
teren Ausführungen lesen sich jedoch so, als würden
sie für die gesamte Gesellschaft gelten. Trotz der zu
Anfang gesetzten Relativierung und der Frage, ob die
drei Bevölkerungsgruppen eher Rassen, soziale Klassen,
Ethnien oder Kasten sind, werden im Weiteren unge-
brochen Angehörigen dieser Gruppen bestimmte Cha-
rakteristika zugeschrieben und dies unabhängig von ih-
rer sozialen, politischen oder ökonomischen Rolle. Den
Ausführungen liegt das Schema zugrunde, das bis heute
weltweit in den Medien reproduziert wird: die Hutu
waren Bauern und Unterdrückte, die Tutsi Viehzüchter
und Herrschende, die Twa eine wenig “zivilisierte”, mar-
ginale Bevölkerungsgruppe. Der Autor spricht sogar von
drei Subkulturen in der Bevölkerung mit unterschiedli-
chen Erziehungssystemen und von verschiedenen Ras-
sen, was wissenschaftlich nicht zu begründen ist. Zudem
betonen Rwander und Rwanderinnen, unabhängig von
der Fremd- oder Selbstzuschreibung einer “ethnischen”
Identität, dass sie eine gemeinsame Kultur, Sprache und
Weltanschauung haben und auf geographisch gleichem
Raum leben, so dass auch die Kriterien für “ethnische”
Unterschiede nicht gelten. Vergleicht man z. B. mit dem
Mittelalter in Europa, so hatte der Adel selbstverständ-
lich andere Erziehungsziele und -methoden als der Bau-
ernstand. Das preußische Militär setzte sich aus den
“Langen” zusammen, ohne dass die Soldaten sich von
der Bevölkerung “rassisch” unterschieden. Wir müssen
akzeptieren, dass es bis heute keine wissenschaftli-
che Erklärung gibt, wie die so genannten “ethnischen”
Gruppen entstanden sind und wie es zu der Identitäts-
bildung kam.
Alle Gesellschaften unterliegen Dynamiken, die
zeit-, raum- und ortsabhängig sind. In den Wissenschaf-
ten hat sich ab Mitte der 1980er Jahre eine Forschung
entwickelt, die der bis dahin herrschenden Geschichts-
schreibung der vorkolonialen Zeit eine Geschichte der
oralen Tradition der Bevölkerung entgegensetzt und eine
kritische Lektüre von bisher regelmäßig reproduzierten
Tatbeständen und so genannten Traditionen vornimmt
(z. B. Ntezimana, Newburry, Mbonimana, Schürings;
besonders Jan Vansina, Le Rwanda ancien. Le royaume
Nyiginya. Paris 2001). So geht der heutige Forschungs-
stand weit über die vorliegenden Inhalte hinaus, analy-
siert und interpretiert differenzierter, hinterfragt manche
Dogmen der kolonialen Geschichtsschreibung.
Kann diese Arbeit klärend zu den Ursachen der
Konflikte der rwandischen Gesellschaft, die 1994 in
einem Genozid und in Verbrechen gegen die Menschheit
kumulierten, beitragen, wie der Autor beansprucht? Die
Antwort ist “nein”, denn dieses Buch trägt eher zur
weiteren Verbreitung von Stereotypen und Imaginärem
über die Vergangenheit und gesellschaftliche Entwick-
lung bei. “Erziehung in Rwanda während der Zeit der
Könige” ist eine weitgehende Wiederholung von Wissen
und besonders Interpretationen und Wertungen von da-
mals in Rwanda herrschenden Gruppen, Kolonialherren
und Vertretern der katholischen Kirche.
Wenn man heute über Rwanda veröffentlicht, dann
ist es wichtig, zu sehen, ob die Arbeit zur Kon-
fliktverschärfung oder zur Klärung von Konfliktursa-
chen beiträgt. Dieses Buch ist sehr konventionell, es
berücksichtigt weder gesellschaftliche Brüche, dynami-
sche Prozesse in einer Gesellschaft noch den neue-
ren Forschungsstand. Es werden Mythen reproduziert
und die Erfindung von Traditionen perpetuiert. Es han-
delt sich nicht um eine Sozialgeschichte des Volkes in
Rwanda, der Banyarwanda, der Menschen, die in Rwan-
da leben.
Über Rwanda forschen und schreiben ist beson-
ders seit 1994 ein schwieriges Unterfangen. Anhänger
der verschiedenen politischen Richtungen unterstellen
häufig Autoren und Autorinnen, eine bestimmte Grup-
pe zu unterstützen, den Genozid “legitimieren” zu wol-
len oder Revisionisten zu sein. Umso wichtiger ist es,
dass Wissenschaftler sehr genau und quellenkritisch
analysieren und versuchen, ein Maximum an wissen-
schaftlicher Objektivität zu erreichen.
Hildegard Schürings
Evans, Toby Susan, and Joanne Pillsbury (eds.):
Palaces of the Ancient New World. A Symposium at
Dumbarton Oaks lOth and 1 Ith October 1998. Washing-
ton: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection,
2004. 416 pp. ISBN 0-88402-300-1. Price: $ 30.00
Die Aufbereitung und Drucklegung der auf dem
Symposium vorgestellten und diskutierten Beispiele von
Palastbauten und deren Bedeutung im vorspanischen
Amerika benötigte ein paar Jahre, wie es jetzt oft zu
beobachten ist. Dennoch ist die dem Symposium zu
Grunde gelegte Fragestellung nach wie vor aktuell, ob
man im alten Amerika überhaupt von Palastbauten spre-
chen könne oder ob der aus der Alten Welt stammen-
de Begriff auf entsprechende Gebäudekomplexe in der
Neuen Welt nicht angewendet werden dürfe. Gerade
wegen ihrer Grundsätzlichkeit, aber auch wegen der un-
ter diesem Aspekt untersuchten Bauten in Mesoamerika
und dem zentralen Andenraum ist die Zusammenstel-
lung von Beiträgen namhafter Wissenschaftler äußerst
interessant. Grundsätzlich gilt die Frage, ob es helfen
würde, mit Begriffen aus den indigenen Sprachen die
Distanz zu altweltlichen Kulturkomplexen zu markieren,
inhaltliche Klarheit zu schaffen. Ich stimme mit den
Herausgeberinnen des Sammelbandes überein, dass es
nicht unbedingt hilfreich wäre, sondern dass wir mit
unseren wissenschaftlichen Begriffen Ähnlichkeiten be-
nennen und Unterschiede in der Deutung herausarbeiten
müssen. Die einzelnen Beiträge unterscheiden sich daher
auch in der Betrachtung und Interpretation gemäß den
Besonderheiten entsprechender Wohnbauten der Eliten
in den einzelnen Kulturkomplexen. Es wird durchaus
auch insofern ein Unterschied deutlich, als einige der
Autoren als Palast nur den Wohnsitz des jeweiligen
Herrschers ansehen, andere jedoch auch herausragen-
de Gebäudekomplexe mit durchaus anderen Funktionen
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
605
und Bewohnern als Paläste verstehen. Sie mögen Mit-
gliedern der Elite in niedrigeren Positionen als Wohn-
raum gedient haben, für administrative Aufgaben ge-
nutzt worden sein, unterschieden sich aber deutlich von
den Behausungen der anderen sozialen Gruppen.
Susan Toby Evans widmet sich den Palästen und
anderer Wohnarchitektur der aztekischen Elite, wobei
sie eine lange Liste von Palastanlagen zusammenstellt,
die in verschiedenen Quellen einschließlich Ergebnissen
archäologischer Untersuchungen nachweisbar sind. Sie
vergleicht die meist nur noch aus schriftlichen Infor-
mationen bekannten aztekischen Palastbauten mit als
Paläste gedeuteten Bauresten in den zeitlich davor lie-
genden Kulturen von Teotihuacan und Tula. Sie wertet
die aus der frühen Kolonialzeit erhaltenen Abbildun-
gen aus und diskutiert die Paläste in alphabetischer
Reihenfolge ihrer Orte, unterscheidet sie nach Stadt-
palästen und Sommersitzen auf dem Lande, nach der
Funktion der einzelnen Räume und der sie umgeben-
den Gartenanlagen. Da die meisten aztekischen Paläste
von den spanischen Eroberern zerstört oder bis zur
Unkenntlichkeit verändert worden sind, ist diese Zu-
sammenschau wichtig, welche die vorspanischen Paläste
zugleich als administrative Bauten und Wohnbauten
kennzeichnet.
Ben A. Nelson spricht über Eliteresidenzen in West-
mexiko und beschäftigt sich besonders mit der Frage,
ob die bemerkenswerten Schachtgräber jener Region als
Paläste der Toten aufgefasst werden könnten. Er kommt
zu dem Schluss, dass Palastbauten im diskutierten Sinne
in Westmexiko erst nach der so genannten Klassischen
Zeit des 1. Jahrtausends festzustellen sind.
Ernesto González Eicon beschäftigt sich mit könig-
lichen Palästen und bemalten Grabbauten und der Frage
von Staat und Gesellschaft im Tal von Oaxaca. Er be-
ginnt in der Formativen Zeit und endet mit den berühm-
ten Palastbauten von Mitla, die sich bis heute recht gut
erhalten haben - wenn auch als Ruinen. Er diskutiert
die verschiedenen Formen der gesellschaftlichen Struk-
turen, die in diesen Bauten der jeweiligen Elite manifest
Werden. Ihm gelingt es auch mittels der schriftlichen
Überlieferungen der frühen Kolonialzeit, Aussagen zu
den Palastbauten zu machen, von denen wir nur noch die
Grabunterbauten haben, weil die Adobe-Paläste darüber
total verfallen sind und ihre archäologische Untersu-
chung viele Fragen offen lässt.
Peter D. Harrison und E. Wyllys Andrews widmen
sich den Palästen von Tikal und Copán, wobei sie deren
Entwicklung über die Jahrhunderte resümieren. Da für
die Klassische Maya-Kultur auch Schriftdokumente zur
Verfügung stehen, können sie die Unterschiede herausar-
beiten, die sich in Gebäudekomplexen verschiedener Art
abzeichnen: während in Tikal eine Stratigraphie jahrhun-
dertelange unterschiedliche Nutzung und verschiedene
Baumaßnahmen an einem Gebäude gut erkennen lassen,
sind in Copán unterschiedliche Funktionen einzelner
Gebäude eines ganzen Komplexes nachweisbar; es zei-
gen sich daran andersartige Konzepte und entsprechend
Vlodelle von Palastbauten in den verschiedenen Maya-
Vletropolen.
David Webster und Takeshi Inomata nutzen die Ge-
legenheit neuer archäologischer Funde, um Palastbau-
ten der Elite einer Ebene unterhalb der Herrscher in
Copän und Aguateca zu vergleichen. Aguateca bietet
dabei die günstige Gelegenheit, solche Eliteresidenzen
in einen Vergleich mit hervorragenden Häusern kom-
munalen Charakters zu setzen.
Joanne Pillsbury diskutiert zuerst das Konzept von
Palästen im Andenraum, und zwar vorrangig auf der
Grundlage der Berichte aus der frühen Kolonialzeit.
William H. Isbell beschäftigt sich dann mit Palästen
und Politik im andinen Mittleren Horizont, wobei ihm
Pachacamac an der zentralen Küste als eines der wich-
tigen Beispiele dient. Er analysiert dann die Bauten von
Huari im Andenhochland, um dort anhand der erhal-
tenen Reste und deren vermuteten Funktionen Palast-
bauten zu identifizieren. Zum Vergleich zieht er die
Stadtpläne von Viracochapampa und Piquillacta heran,
um auch dort Palastbauten anhand vergleichbarer Struk-
turen ausfindig zu machen. Dann interessiert er sich für
die Frage, wo in den Ruinen von Tiwanaku auf Grund
bestimmter Prinzipien bei deren Anlage Palastbauten zu
erkennen seien.
Joanne Pillsbury und Banks L. Leonard diskutieren
die Problematik, inwieweit sich in der Späten Zwischen-
periode Chimü-Paläste als Architektur von Eliteresiden-
zen identifizieren lassen. Sie versuchen dies nicht nur in
der Hauptstadt des Chimu-Reiches, Chan Chan, sondern
auch in nachgeordneten Siedlungen im Jequetepeque-
und Casma-Tal. Sie diskutieren die Frage zeitlicher
Nacheinander- und räumlicher Nebeneinander-Ordnung
von solchen Palastbauten und zugeordneter Nekropolen
vor allem im zentralen Raum dieses Staatsgebildes.
Craig Morris stellt sich die Aufgabe einer Analyse
der Abgrenzung von Macht nach außen im Rahmen der
vielfältigen Räumlichkeiten von Verwaltungspalästen
der Inka. Schwerpunkt ist die Analyse des archäologi-
schen Befunds von Huänuco Pampa als Verwaltungszen-
trum im Vergleich mit La Centinela im Chincha-Gebiet
unter Herrschaft der Inka und mit Tambo Colorado,
Orte, die wegen der Expansionspolitik des Inka-Staates
an der peruanischen Küste Bedeutung erlangten.
Lucy C. Salazar und Richard L. Burger widmen sich
einem interessanten Bereich, nämlich dem Leben der
Reichen und Berühmten, dem Luxus und dem täglichen
Leben in den Haushalten der Elite in Machu Picchu.
Wegen der Tatsache, dass hier nicht wie in anderen
Orten einschließlich der Hauptstadt des Inka-Reiches
Überbauungen aus der Kolonialzeit oder entsprechen-
de Zerstörungen das Bild verfälschen, sondern diese
Sommerresidenz der Inka in ihrer Bausubstanz gut zu
analysieren ist, interpretieren sie religiöse Bereiche und
Wohnbereiche, wo die Elite weitgehend unter sich war.
Stephen D. Houston und Tom Cummins widmen
sich den Fragen von Körperlichkeit der Herrscher, ihrer
Anwesenheit und deren Bedeutung für den Raum in
den Anden und in Mesoamerika. Es geht dabei um die
unterschiedliche Auffassung, inwieweit Paläste von der
Anwesenheit des lebenden oder verstorbenen Herrschers
geprägt und als Herrschersitz verstanden werden.
Anthropos 101.2006
606
Rezensionen
Der Band bietet anregende Möglichkeiten, sich mit
unterschiedlichen Phänomenen der Paläste im vorspani-
schen Amerika zu beschäftigen. Da die einzelnen Bei-
träge mit einer großen Anzahl von Fotos und Lageskiz-
zen bereichert sind, da jeder Teil eine umfängliche Bi-
bliographie bietet und das Auffinden von Details insge-
samt mittels eines gemeinsamen Index erleichtert wird,
ist das Material gut erschließbar. Zusammenfassend lässt
sich sagen, dass die Gesamtschau unter einem solchen
Thema wie dem von Residenzen der Eliten und von
Palästen der Herrschenden in Altamerika bei Einbezie-
hung neuerer Materialien und Diskussionen interessante
Aspekte der altamerikanischen Staatsgesellschaften er-
schließt. Ursula Thiemer-Sachse
Falola, Toyin, and Matt D. Childs (eds.): The
Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 2004. 455 pp. ISBN 0-253-
21716-4. Price: $27.95
Mitunter ergeben sich Irritationen, wenn die Völker-
kunde Forschungen benachbarter Fächer zur Kenntnis
nimmt, die eigene, etabliert scheinende Standpunkte zu
überdenken zwingen. Derartiges mag bei der Lektüre
der Herausgeberschrift von Toyin Falola und Matt D.
Childs über die Yoruba-Diaspora in der Neuen Welt
geschehen. In ihr geht es um das kulturelle Erbe der
westafrikanischen Yoruba, die in der Kolonialzeit, in
gesteigertem Maße in der ersten Hälfte des 19. Jhs., als
Sklaven in weite Teile Amerikas verschleppt wurden.
Verglichen mit Sklaven anderer Provenienz entwickelten
sie dort - so der Tenor des Buches - eine kulturelle
Dominanz, die weit über ihren Anteil - 1 bis 2 Millio-
nen (292) - an den rund 12 Millionen der nach Ameri-
ka als Sklaven verschleppten Afrikaner hinausgeht. Sie
haben der afroamerikanischen Religion, Sprache oder
Kunst(handwerk) ihren Stempel aufgedrückt. Bis heute
ist dieser Einfluss erkennbar, obschon die Yoruba zum
Zeitpunkt ihrer Versklavung ungeachtet aller sprach-
lichen und kulturellen Gemeinsamkeiten weit davon
entfernt waren, eine homogene Einheit zu bilden.
Diese Dominanz, die im vorliegenden Buch vor al-
lem (wenngleich nicht ausschließlich) von Afrika- und
Amerika-Historikern dargelegt wird, liest sich in dieser
Hinsicht wie ein Kontrapunkt zum “Black Atlantic”
eines Paul Gilroy, der bekanntlich einem entterritoria-
lisierten, von einzelnen Ethnien abgelösten, Kulturbe-
griff das Wort redet. Im Atlantik und den Anrainern
als dem Szenarium des Sklavenhandels sieht er ei-
ne Art fließendes Kulturareal, das der Sklavenhandel
und die Sklaverei erst schuf und in dem sich kul-
turelle Eigenheiten der verschiedenen Sklaven verlie-
ren. Im Gegensatz dazu macht das vorliegende Buch
mit seiner Betonung der Ausstrahlung der Yoruba
als einem dieser versklavten Völker deutlich, dass
Gilroys “Black Atlantic” wenig Platz lässt für die Eigen-
willigkeit einzelner afroamerikanischer Bevölkerungs-
gruppen, und dass er die Afrolateinamerikaner in ih-
rer kulturellen Vielfalt und lokalen Neuverortung im
Einzelfall nicht im Blick hat. Er reproduziert damit
ein Problem, das die “cultural studies” insgesamt aus-
zeichnet.
Dabei greifen die Herausgeber (3), aber auch einzel-
ne Autoren (192) eine Idee von Paul Gilroy immer wie-
der auf, und zwar dass die Sklaverei und der Sklaven-
handel kulturelle Folgen auf beiden Seiten des Atlantiks
zeitigten, also sowohl dort, woher die Sklaven kamen,
und dort, wohin sie verschleppt wurden. Sie brechen mit
der Vorstellung der Sklaverei als kultureller Einbahn-
straße, die in Afrika vielleicht eine Lücke, nicht aber
kulturelle Folgen hinterließ. Dass es vielmehr immer
wieder zum Austausch kam, davon zeugt die Rückkehr
freier Sklaven nach Afrika im 19. Jh. oder der konti-
nuierliche Kontakt zwischen dem Golf von Benin und
Salvador de Bahia nachdrücklich. Allerdings ist Gilroys
“Black Atlantic” nur ein theoretischer Bezugspunkt des
Buches, Mintz’ und Prices Kreolisationsidee (3) ein
anderer.
Das Buch spannt in vier Kapiteln mit insgesamt 19
Einzelbeiträgen den Bogen von den Yoruba-Ursprüngen,
über die Verteilung der Yoruba in Amerika und ihren
kulturellen Einflüssen bis zu der Rückkehrerbewegung
nach Westafrika. Die Herausgeber, die sich nach ei-
genen Aussagen um eine internationale Autorengrup-
pe bemühten, beklagen in der Einleitung die fehlende
Beteiligung der Vertreter der nordamerikanischen Ge-
schichtsschreibung, deren Themenspektrum so sehr von
Fragen der Rasse und des Rassismus dominiert sei, dass
sie sich für das kulturelle Erbe der Sklavennachkommen
nicht interessierten. Man vermisst Beiträge von US-
amerikanischen Wissenschaftlern, wie Lorand J. Matory,
die zum Thema gearbeitet haben, im Buch aber nur
in der Literaturliste zu finden sind. Diese allerdings,
d. h. eine übergreifende, aus den bibliographischen An-
gaben aller Beiträge zusammengefügte Literaturliste, ist
überaus positiv hervorzuheben, weil sie den gegenwär-
tigen Stand der heutigen Yoruba-Diaspora-Forschung
eindrücklich abbildet.
Nicht alle Beiträge sind gleich dicht, was nicht
immer als Qualitätsurteil zu verstehen ist, sondern in
der Natur der Sache liegen kann. So bleibt Russell Lohse
(130 ff.) für den Fall des heutigen Costa Rica nur die
Möglichkeit, die Biographien einiger gestrandeter Yo-
ruba aus den Archiven zu rekonstruieren, deren Kul-
tur vielleicht ihre Sklavereierfahrung beeinflusst haben
mag, die aber selbst kaum weitere Spuren hinterließen.
Auch der Vergleich von Trinidad mit den Bahamas von
Rosalyn Howard (157 ff.) oder der Beitrag über den
Yoruba-Einfluss in Haiti von Kevin Roberts (177 ff.)
können sich nicht wirklich mit den Beiträgen über den
Yoruba-Einfluss in Kuba und Brasilien vergleichen las-
sen. Die Forschung ist hier vielleicht noch nicht weiter
vorangeschritten. Die Analyse desselben Kevin Roberts
(248 ff.) über die Rolle von Familie, Verwandtschafts-
und Geschlechterrollen in der Sklaverei, wie sie sich
aus den Archiven entnehmen lässt, läuft vorwiegend
auf die Feststellung der Fortdauer erweiterter Familien-
netzwerke, geschlechtlicher Arbeitsteilung und Gemein-
schaftsaktivitäten hinaus, die für die Geschichtswis-
senschaft befriedigend, für die Ethnologie aber sehr
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
607
allgemein zu sein scheint. Ausgebreitet werden freilich
auch die womöglich unter Kunsthistorikern, weniger
aber unter Afroamerikanisten bekannten Details, dass
auch die Black Seminoles in Florida kulturelle Yoruba-
Einflüsse tradiert haben und dass sich in den USA in
Gemälden der Kolonialzeit Darstellungen von Tänzen
der Sklaven finden lassen, die den Yoruba zuzuordnen
sind (Babatunde Lawal; 291).
Die meisten Beiträge liefern einen guten Über-
blick über die aufgeworfenen Fragen. Dies gilt für die
Umstände im frühen Yoruba-Land (David Elfis; 17 ff.),
die Bedeutung der Yoruba im transatlantischen Skla-
venhandel (Paul E. Lovejoy; 40 ff.) und der ihrer Ver-
sklavung, einschließlich der internen Politik und der
Bürgerkriege (Ann O’Hear; 56 ff.).
Neben diesen auf das afrikanische Yoruba-Land kon-
zentrierten Studien bestechen vor allem die auf Kuba
und Brasilien bezogenen Artikel durch eine Vielfalt
des ausgebreiteten Materials sowie interessante Details
und Analysen. Für Brasilien liegen Regionalstudien vor,
die die in Bahia als “Nagô” bezeichneten Yoruba von
den “Mina” in Rio de Janeiro unterscheiden (Joäo José
Reis und Beatriz Gallotti Mamigonian; 77 ff.), wohin
nicht wenige als Folge der islamisch inspirierten Malê-
Revolte im Jahre 1835 gelangten, die trotz einer kul-
turell anders geprägten dortigen Sklavenmehrheit ihre
ethnische Identität neu formierten. Für das brasilianische
Bahia lässt sich gar zeigen (Luis Nicolau Parés; 185 ff.),
dass sich die Anhänger des Candomblé trotz anderer eth-
nischer Zugehörigkeit als Yoruba, d. h. Nagö, definierten
und damit in religiösen Kontexten Tradition erfanden.
Über die Neuformierung der ethnischen Identität in Rio
de Janeiro geht es auch im Beitrag von Mariza de
Carvalho Soares (231 ff.).
Die Kuba-Beiträge des Bandes sind allesamt zur
Lektüre empfohlen. Während Michele Reid (111 ff.)
die Existenz der Yoruba in Kuba rekonstruiert, wo sie
als Lucumi bekannt sind, liefert Christine Ayorinde
(209 ff.) eine komprimierte, aber dichte Beschreibung
der Santería, die Insiderkenntnisse vermuten lässt. Robin
Moores (260 ff.) Beitrag über die sakrale Musik der
Yoruba auf Kuba liefert gleichzeitig ein hervorragendes
Portrait über die ambivalente Haltung des kubanischen
Sozialismus, der sich lange Zeit nicht entscheiden konn-
te, ob die religiöse Yoruba-Tradition als nationales Erbe
gefördert oder als “Opium für’s Volk” ausgemerzt wer-
den sollte.
Das abschließende Rückkehrerkapitel greift anhand
von drei Themen die Rückkopplung der Diaspora mit
der westafrikanischen Herkunftsregion auf. Es sind
dies einerseits die 3000 bis 4000 brasilianischen und
geschätzten 1000 kubanischen Yoruba, die nach Er-
langung ihrer Freiheit bzw. Abschaffung der Sklaverei
ins Yoruba-Land zurückkehrten (Robin Law; 349 ff.,
C. Magbaily Fyle; 366 ff.) und nicht geringen Anteil
an der Ausbildung einer Yoruba-Identität hatten, die als
national bezeichnet wird. Auch der Rolle der islamisier-
ten Yoruba wird abschließend nochmals Anerkennung
gezollt (Gibril R. Cole; 383 ff.), die als Händler eine
nicht übersehbare Gruppe bildeten und symbolträchtig
die alten Sklavenschiffe aufkauften und in Handelsschif-
fe umwandelten.
Zu der in der Einleitung aufgeworfenen Frage,
warum gerade die Yoruba Afroamerika so nachhaltig
prägten, muss der Leser freilich die Antwort in einer
Vielzahl ausgebreiteter Argumente in 19 Artikeln selbst
finden. Der Herausgeber Toyin Falola hat offenkun-
dig dazu seine eigene Auffassung, die er aber dem
Leser vorenthält, da “it would not pass for scholarly
rigor” (xi). So wird das Buch von einer ausstehenden
Antwort begleitet. Es bliebe zu diesem hervorragenden
Überblickswerk über die Yoruba-Diaspora diesseits und
jenseits des Atlantik nur noch eines zu ergänzen, dass
nämlich Teile der Yoruba-Kultur, d. h. ihre Religionen,
erneut auf Wanderschaft gegangen und mittlerweile auch
in Europa angekommen sind.
Lioba Rossbach de Olmos
Fleurdorge, Denis : Les rituels et les représentations
du pouvoir. Paris : Éditions Zagros, 2005. 280 pp. ISBN
2-915476-13-6. Prix: € 25.00
Décrire en sociologue les pratiques cérémonielles,
ritualisées et codifiées du pouvoir politique central
français lorsqu’il se met en scène pour présider, décorer,
inaugurer, commémorer, voyager, recevoir des hôtes,
exprimer des vœux ou transmettre un message, voilà
bien ce à quoi s’attache Denis Fleurdorge, maître de
conférences à l’Université Paul Valéry de Montpellier,
auteur d’un ouvrage remarqué : “Les rituels du Président
de la République” (Paris 2001) lequel se trouve ici
comme complété sans qu’il y ait redondance des idées
mais bien approfondissement de certaines et exemplifi-
cation probante des manifestations quasi hiérophaniques
de soulignement de l’excellence du pouvoir suprême.
L’insertion dans un système de convenances n’exclut
pas la propagande en faveur de l’homme et de son
rôle. Distinction, symétrie, sanctuarisation de l’espace,
dramaturgie du jeu d’acteurs, rythmique du déroulement
temporel, sont autant de facteurs surchargeant d’images
et de symboles forts la représentation. D’où la re-
cherche durant tout l’ouvrage des formes typiques de
représentation en précisant les acteurs, les rôles, les
actions, les normes et les valeurs, les moyens réels et
symboliques, les systèmes de communication, etc.
Le premier chapitre énonce d’abord l’utilité sociale
du protocole et des préséances “marquer la rupture
avec un régime antérieur ; définir un statut unique pour
chaque acteur ; affirmer une hiérarchie et une autorité ;
instituer et modéliser des pratiques politiques” (11).
On distinguera ce qui relève des règles et du code
de ce qui relève de la représentation cérémonielle.
Les codes napoléoniens sont évoqués tout autant que
l’histoire des préséances dans la cité grecque ou lors
des hommages au roi chrétien. J. Gandouin, J. Serre,
Y. Deloye, C. Haroche, O. Ihl sont bien les meilleurs
renvois en ce qui concerne l’étude du protocole, mais
bien plus que lecteur d’une littérature de “Mémoires”
des différents Présidents, D. Fleurdorge apparaît comme
un inlassable quêteur d’informations riches et variées de
Anthropos 101.2006
608
Rezensionen
source orale, à tous les niveaux sociaux, en même temps
qu’un observateur direct, et par télévision interposée, des
rites dont il fait état.
Avec un solide sens pédagogique, l’auteur se plaît à
classer ses idées, parfois sans s’y appesantir, dans un
souci de dénombrement complet, les laissant comme en
pâture à d’autres chercheurs. Je pense aux techniques
esthétiques du pouvoir qu’il dit être : “la profusion, ob-
tenue par le nombre et la diversité des éléments consti-
tutifs, de quelque nature (objets ou acteurs) que soient
ces éléments ; l’accumulation, en acteurs, en spectateurs,
en objets ; la juxtaposition, par la coprésence d’objets
ou de personnes fortement différenciés ; l’alignement,
la répétition (et l’uniformité) conçus comme une mise
en ordre des personnes et des objets ; le rassemblement,
par groupes ou par sous-groupes, en fonction du statut
des personnes, de leur grade, de leur nature, de leur
fonction ; et enfin la division, par une séparation et
une répartition calculées des individus comme acteurs,
comme invités, comme spectateur” (34). L’opération de
séduction, dans les bains de foules ou les embrassades,
suit une esthétique gestuelle d’attention et de familiarité.
L’installation d’un nouveau Président de la cin-
quième République Française, comporte une passation
de pouvoir qui est investiture triomphale et rite de pas-
sage comme les sacres royaux, mais encore intronisation
républicaine avec transmission d’un code de frappe nu-
cléaire, élévation de l’élu au rang de grand maître de la
Légion d’honneur. Le Chef suprême s’éteint-il au bout
d’un certain temps, il y aura quelque Alain Poher pour
la vacance et de beaux honneurs funèbres, militaires et
religieux, avant Colombey ou Jamac.
Plus régulier que ces événements : le conseil des
ministres tous les mercredis dans le salon Murat de
l’Elysée ! Les meilleurs gouvernements ont été ceux à
faible nombre de ministres, estime V. Giscard d’Estaing.
Autrement il y a trop de débats confus et de sugges-
tions déplaisantes entre ministres défendant âprement
leur territoire. Les Comités restreints pour des décisions
rapides dans un domaine ponctuel et les Conseils inter-
ministériels ont augmenté en période de cohabitation.
Pression et efficacité ?
Qui veut savoir comment est remise une décoration,
comment on prête serment devant le Président de la
République, comment est accrédité un ambassadeur,
comment a été inaugurée la Bibliothèque Nationale de
France, comment sont canonisés au Panthéon les saints
républicains, comment le pouvoir institue des ancêtres :
Capet, Jaurès, Moulin ..., consultera ce “vade-mecum”,
guide de comportement pour ministres et citoyens face à
un pouvoir incarné dans une figure unique à dimensions
cosmique, mythique et réelle.
Le Président voyage inopinément lors de l’explosion
d’AZF à Toulouse ou officiellement pour renforcer, dans
les rencontres au sommet, le poids de la France. Parfois,
il assiste à des manifestations sportives ou culturelles,
mais ne guérit pas les écrouelles et ne peut pas grand
chose pour l’exportation des tomates françaises. Rece-
voir, il sait. Fleurdorge sait lui aussi le protocole des
déjeuners de Mitterrand : parlementaires le mardi, de
bavardage libre le mercredi, de militantisme le jeudi,
de prise de pouls de la majorité le vendredi. Chirac
donne agrément et audience, le 16 juin 2004, au nouvel
élu sous la coupole, V. Giscard d’Estaing. Il célèbre
l’enfance lors de l’arbre de Noël à l’Elysée et reçoit des
vœux, même de la Corrèze. Pour s’exprimer (persuader,
convaincre, expliquer, commander), le Président utilise,
face à la Nation, aux Assemblées, aux Armées, de mul-
tiples formes verbales et gestuelles, dont la boutade dans
des conférences de presse, et l’insinuation malicieuse
propre à Mitterrand. Le mode affectif gaullien a beau-
coup influencé le téléspectateur. C’est au style et à l’effet
des interviews télévisées que l’auteur s’attache assez
longuement avec beaucoup de pertinence. De Gaulle
et Mitterrand sont vus comme des maîtres du discours.
Quant au pèlerinage à Solutré, fortement médiatisé, il
a représenté une mini-société de cour tout en évoquant
un soubassement sacral, mi-Golgotha, mi-Sermon sur la
montagne, mi-Cène avec les disciples.
Son dernier chapitre, l’auteur le consacre aux in-
ventions, emprunts et changements dans les rituels de
représentation du pouvoir, apportant ainsi une touche
de dynamisme. La commémoration unifie les mémoires
collectives mais les poilus à décorer se raréfient, les
ferveur du 8 mai s’éteignent, le 14 juillet glisse de la
Bastille à la “garden party” de l’Elysée et au bal de
l’Hôtel de Ville. Le protocole formalisé par De Gaulle,
Giscard d’Estaing l’a réduit, sans réussir à réformer la
plupart des éléments d’une symbolique chargée d’ans.
En 1981, F. Mitterrand restaure le faste. Il instaure aussi
pour ses proches collaborateurs la galette des Rois à
l’Elysée, mais sans fève : le roi est déjà connu. Le style
Chirac est de dignité et de maintenance.
Comme les Présidents rompent en début de mandat
avec certains rituels de leurs prédécesseurs, D. Fleur-
dorge rompt avec une politologie rarement intéressée
au protocole. Il nous montre que les jeux de rôles et
les représentations du pouvoir sont aussi les lieux du
politique. Son point de vue et ses perspectives neuves
s’inspirent des méthodes de l’anthropologie et de la
sociologie. Marc Abélès lui a ouvert le chemin à propos
des honneurs locaux et nationaux, mais Fleurdorge a su
aussi lire à la loupe “Le pouvoir et la vie” du Président
académicien, fouiller dans le Journal officiel et dans
les Archives pour préciser les dates des revues navales
depuis 1874. Du travail intelligent, clair, rigoureux, qui
suscite l’adhésion du lecteur, quelles que soient ses
opinions politiques ! Claude Rivière
Fogelson, Raymond D. (ed.): Handbook of North
American Indians; vol. 14: Southeast. Washington: Smith-
sonian Institution, 2004. 1042 pp. ISBN 0-16-072300-0.
Price: $72.00
Dieser lang erwartete Überblick über die Archäolo-
gie, Geschichte und Ethnografie der indigenen Bevölke-
rungen des amerikanischen Südostens stellt den jüngs-
ten Zuwachs der projektierten 20-bändigen Serie des
“Handbook of North American Indians” dar, in der
seit 1978 nunmehr dreizehn Bände in unregelmäßigen
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
609
Intervallen im Druck erschienen sind. Der vorliegen-
de Band “Southeast” komplettiert die Regionalbände
der enzyklopädischen Reihe (Bd. 5: “Arctic”; Bd. 6:
“Subarctic”; Bd. 7: “Northwest Coast”; Bd. 8: “Califor-
nia”; Bde. 9-10: “Southwest”; Bd. 11: “Great Basin”;
Bd. 12: “Plateau”; Bd. 13: “Plains” und Bd. 15: “North-
east”), neben denen bislang zwei thematisch organisier-
te Bände (Bd. 4: “Indian-White Relations” und Bd. 17;
“Languages”) publiziert wurden.
Als im Jahr 1971 das Handbook-Projekt unter der
allgemeinen Herausgeberschaft von William C. Sturte-
vant an der Smithsonian Institution in Washington of-
fiziell eingerichtet wurde, war die Fertigstellung der
Serie innerhalb weniger Jahre geplant gewesen. In-
zwischen erstreckt sich die Produktion über drei Jahr-
zehnte und ist mittlerweile selbst zum Gegenstand ei-
ner ethnologischen Untersuchung geworden (Christian
Carstensen, Das Handbook-Office - Treffpunkt von
Kulturen. Organisationsethnologische Studie eines Re-
daktionsbüros. Frankfurt 1999), die die Ursachen des
langsamen Publikationsprozesses in den Problemen der
komplexen Vernetzung von Wissenschaftskultur, Ver-
lagskultur und Bürokratie sieht. Es steht zu erwarten,
dass die Veröffentlichung der restlichen, z. T. bereits
in Bearbeitung befindlichen Bände, die sich mit der
Umwelt, physischen Anthropologie, materiellen Kultur
und Gegenwartssituation des indigenen Nordamerika
befassen, und ein biografisches Lexikon sowie einen
umfassenden Index zur Serie beinhalten werden, noch
einige Jahre in Anspruch nehmen wird.
Die bereits in den frühen 1970er Jahren unter der
Leitung des designierten Bandherausgebers Raymond
J. Fogelson in Planung genommene Struktur und Ka-
pitelfolge des “Southeasf’-Bandes wurden in den späten
1990er Jahren, nach einer längeren Phase der Stagna-
tion, einer kritischen Revision unterzogen und neue
Autoren zur Mitarbeit eingeladen. Der Band, dessen
Fertigstellung nicht zuletzt dem tatkräftigen Einsatz des
1999 engagierten Mitherausgebers Jason Baird Jackson
zu verdanken ist, vermittelt somit trotz seiner langen
Entstehungsgeschichte den neuesten Kenntnisstand und
löst damit die älteren Übersichtswerke über diese Region
(wie etwa John R. Swantons Klassiker “The Indians of
the Southeastern United States” von 1946 oder Charles
Hudsons 1976 erschienene Studie “The Southeastern
Indians”) ab.
Das beachtliche Volumen des Bandes - mit 1042
Seiten ist es der bislang umfangreichste Einzelband
der Serie - reflektiert aber nicht nur das in den letz-
ten Jahrzehnten angewachsene Wissen insbesondere der
ethnohistorischen Forschung, sondern auch die im Ver-
gleich zu anderen Kulturarealen Nordamerikas beson-
ders lange und komplexe Kulturgeschichte der Region,
in der sich in voreuropäischer Zeit die hochent-
wickeltsten sozialen und kulturellen Systeme nörd-
lich von Mexiko herausgebildet hatten und in der die
seit der frühesten Kontaktzeit andauernde kulturelle
Konfrontation der indigenen Bevölkerungen mit Eu-
ropäern und Afrikanern zu äußerst vielschichtigen und
von einer reichen Quellenlage dokumentierten gesell-
schaftlichen, kulturellen und biologischen Veränderun-
gen führte.
Das Werk gliedert sich in sieben große Abschnitte,
denen eine Einleitung der Herausgeber und einzelne
Kapitel zur Geschichte der archäologischen, ethnologi-
schen und linguistischen Forschung sowie zur Demogra-
fie, Umwelt und den Sprachen der Region vorausgehen.
Die ersten beiden Abschnitte (“Regional Prehistory” und
“History”) bieten einen Überbick über die vorgeschicht-
lichen Kulturen des Südostens seit dem frühen Archai-
kum und einen allgemeinen historischen Abriss, der den
Bogen von der spanischen, französischen und englischen
Kolonisation bis ins 21. Jh. spannt und die wichtigsten
stammesübergreifend wirksamen Einflüsse auf die indi-
genen Bevölkerungen diskutiert; den Bevölkerungsrück-
gang durch eingeschleppte Krankheiten im 16. Jh., die
Folgen der christlichen Missionierung, die wirtschaftli-
chen und sozialen Auswirkungen des intensiven Hirsch-
fellhandels, die Umsiedlungspolitik des 19. Jhs. und die
Bemühungen der im Südosten verbliebenen Bevölke-
rungsgruppen um staatliche Anerkennung ihres India-
nerstatus im 20. Jh. Ein Abschlusskapitel widmet sich
jenen kleinen Gruppen (“small tribes”), die nur aus
dem historischen Befund bekannt sind, deren ethnische
oder linguistische Affiliation unklar ist und die nicht als
separate Ethnien überlebt haben.
Die darauf folgenden vier regionalen Abschnitte
(“Florida”, “Atlantic Coastal Plain”, “Interior Southeast”
und “Mississippi Valley and Gulf Coastal Plain”) ma-
chen den Hauptteil des Bandes aus und werden jeweils
von Kapiteln zur Prähistorie des betreffenden kultur-
geografischen Raums eingeleitet. Die Trennlinie zu be-
nachbarten Kulturarealen, insbesondere dem Nordosten,
wurde dabei angesichts des Fehlens klarer kultureller
Grenzen, wie sie anderswo im indigenen Nordameri-
ka vorzufinden sind, in arbiträrer Weise gezogen und
ist forschungshistorisch bestimmt. So werden etwa die
Quapaw oder die Virginia-Algonquin, die enge kulturel-
le Beziehungen zum Südosten aufweisen, im “Plains-”
bzw. “Northeast”-Band behandelt; inkludiert ist aller-
dings die weitere historische und kulturelle Entwicklung
jener indigenen Bevölkerungen des Südostens, die im
19. Jh. in das so genannte “Indianerterritorium” westlich
des Mississippi umgesiedelt wurden. Die den einzelnen
Ethnien gewidmeten Kapitel weisen eine weitgehend
einheitliche, für das “Handbook” typische Struktur auf:
Der Beschreibung von Umwelt und Territorium folgen
eine kulturelle Charakterisierung und ein Überblick über
ihre Geschichte, den Abschluss jedes Kapitels bilden
eine Liste der Synonyme ihrer ethnischen Bezeichnung
und Angaben zur Quellenliteratur.
Der letzte Abschnitt (“Special Topics”) untersucht
spezifische, für die Region relevante Themen wie
Handels- und Tauschnetzwerke, Sozialorganisation, My-
thologie und Erzählgut, Musik, Zeremonialismus, indi-
genes Christentum, Beziehungen zu Afroamerikanern
sowie das Wiederaufleben indigener Kommunitäten in
der Gegenwart. Eine Liste der insgesamt 63 Autoren,
die umfangreiche Bibliografie und ein Index runden den
Band ab.
Anthropos 101.2006
610
Rezensionen
Ein Muss für die Bibliothek jedes Amerikanisten,
bietet dieses Übersichtswerk (wie die “Handbook”-Serie
insgesamt) für Wissenschaftler, Studierende und inter-
essierte Laien eine unschätzbare Fundgrube an Informa-
tionen und weiterführender Literatur zur Ethnologie des
amerikanischen Südostens. Auch wenn der vorliegende
Band - wie die Herausgeber in ihrer Einleitung beto-
nen - angesichts intensiver Forschungstätigkeit und der
Vitalität der modernen indigenen Gemeinschaften in der
Region nicht das letzte Wort zum Thema darstellt, wird
er doch zweifellos auf Jahre hinaus ein beispielloses
Standard- und Nachschlagewerk bleiben.
Sylvia S. Kasprycki
Foster, Robert J.: Materializing the Nation. Com-
modities, Consumption, and Media in Papua New
Guinea. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002.
202 pp. ISBN 0-253-21549-8. Price: £ 19.95
Gibt es nationale Fleischkonserven? Ist jemand, der
statt Betelnuss Kaugummi kaut, ein besserer Bürger?
Lassen sich weltweit verbreitete Softdrinks wie Coca-
Cola zu Emblemen einer bestimmten Nation hochstili-
sieren? Alles ist möglich im “Land of the Unexpected”
(Papua New Guinea, PNG), werden manche vermu-
ten; aber beileibe nicht nur “dort”, behauptet Robert J.
Foster, dessen Interesse am Thema Nation in PNG schon
weiter zurückreicht und nicht mehr ganz unbekannt sein
dürfte (z. B. Nation Making. Emergent Identities in Post-
colonial Melanesia. Ann Arbor 1995). In seinem hand-
lichen Buch “Materializing the Nation” geht er auf die
Suche nach den alltäglichen, ja banalen Prozessen, durch
die nationale Gemeinschaften entworfen, gefestigt oder
auch geschwächt und verworfen werden. Der Aufbau
einer Nation {nation making) vollzieht sich für Foster
nicht nur über staatlich organisierte Programme (von
denen es im vergleichsweise “schwachen” Pazifikstaat
PNG nur wenige gibt), sondern auch über so profa-
ne Dinge wie die Wahl einer bestimmten Tabaksorte
und den alltäglichen Umgang mit Zeitung, Radio und
Fernsehen. Der analytische Blick auf scheinbar Triviales
deckt vielfache Querverbindungen zwischen Nationa-
lismus, Konsumpraktiken und Medien auf und zeigt,
wie stark die “Nation” als Modell und Deutungsrahmen
im alltäglichen Leben vieler Menschen präsent ist -
selbst im ethnisch überaus fragmentierten PNG und im
Zeitalter intensivierter Globalisierung.
Das Buch ist eine Sammlung sieben verschiedener
Aufsätze, die Foster zwischen 1991 und 2000 geschrie-
ben und auf ebenso viele Kapitel aufgeteilt hat. Fünf
der Aufsätze waren schon einmal veröffentlicht, in Zeit-
schriften (drei) und Sammelbänden (zwei). Das Buch
erscheint dennoch wie aus einem Guss, ist übersicht-
lich in drei Teile gegliedert und mit einer allgemeinen
Einführung versehen, in der Foster an wichtige Studien
zu Nation und Nationalismen anknüpft und damit seine
eigenen Untersuchungen aus PNG in einen größeren
Forschungs- und Theorienzusammenhang stellt.
Im ersten Teil (“State-Sponsored Nation Making”)
untersucht Foster zunächst “staatliche” Programme zum
Aufbau der Nation. Er analysiert darin u. a. die morali-
sche Erziehung zu modernen Staatsbürgern im Rahmen
der jährlich abgehaltenen “National Law Week” (Kap. 1)
und die Versuche des 1975 unabhängig gewordenen
Staates, über das Medium der Landeswährung eine na-
tionale Gemeinschaft zu bilden (Kap. 2). Was in diesen
Beispielen deutlich wird ist nicht nur der schwierige
Brückenschlag zwischen Tradition und Moderne, der
etwa im Design der Banknoten und Münzen ausdrück-
lich angestrebt wurde, sondern auch die Tatsache, dass
der staatliche Entwurf einer nationalen Gemeinschaft
immer auch der scharfen Konkurrenz einer Fülle von
Gegenentwürfen auf lokaler und regionaler Ebene aus-
gesetzt ist und diese Entwürfe einander durchdringen
und transformieren.
Im zweiten Teil (“Commercial Nation Making”) ent-
faltet Foster das zentrale Thema seines Buches: die
Rolle kommerzieller Medien und des Marketings von
Konsumgütem für die Entwicklung eines Nationalbe-
wusstseins. Foster richtet sein Augenmerk insbesondere
auf Werbungen in den Printmedien sowie in Radio-
und TV-Sendungen des Landes, einem bislang eher ver-
nachlässigten Feld ethnographischer Analyse in PNG.
Dabei beschränkt er sich methodisch gesehen weitest-
gehend auf eine textuelle Analyse der Werbung und
lässt den wichtigen Aspekt ihrer Rezeption unberück-
sichtigt - ein Desiderat weiterer Forschungen, wie er
weiß. Seine Untersuchungen, in drei Kapiteln ausgebrei-
tet, werfen Licht auf das geradezu symbiotische Verhält-
nis zwischen kapitalistischer Produkt- und Konsumen-
tenwerbung und dem (alltäglich-banalen) Aufbau einer
Nation, die im Grunde als Konsumgemeinschaft gefasst
wird. In einer durchweg differenzierten Argumentation
spricht Foster dabei verschiedene spannende Problembe-
reiche an, wie etwa das dem nationalen und kapitalisti-
schen Projekt zugrunde liegende Konzept von individua-
lisierten, autonomen Personen, dem das melanesische
Verständnis eines “dividualen” oder relationalen Selbst
entgegensteht; damit hängen auch unterschiedliche Auf-
fassungen von Körper und Objekten zusammen. Foster
konstatiert hier, soweit ihm Daten über die Rezeption
vorliegen, ein komplexes, synkretistisches Durchdringen
der verschiedenen Konzeptionen.
Des Weiteren macht Foster deutlich, dass kapita-
listische Produktwerbung auch das Zeug hat, ein natio-
nales Zusammengehörigkeitsgefühl zu schwächen, weil
es gleichzeitig .^nationale und supranationale Kon-
sumgemeinschaften bilden kann, also konkurrierende
Gemeinschaften innerhalb und jenseits der nationalen
Grenzen. Durch Werbung und Konsum aufgebaute na-
tionale Gemeinschaften sind deshalb instabil, was für
Foster aber nicht heißt, dass sie nur ein diffuses Na-
tionalitätsbewusstsein und nicht auch einen Nationa-
lismus hervorbringen können. Foster denkt hier etwa
an die nationalen Proteste gegen eine vom Staat PNG
angeheuerte südafrikanische Söldnertruppe (im Kontext
des Bürgerkriegs auf Bougainville), ein Beispiel von
mehreren, die einen weiteren Punkt illustrieren: Die
Nation formiert sich in PNG nicht selten auch gegen
den Staat.
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
611
Im dritten Teil (“Nation Making in This Era of
Globalization”) stellt Foster die Nationalisierung aus-
drücklich in Beziehung zur Globalisierung, die ande-
re Modelle kollektiver Identitäten jenseits der lokalen
und nationalen bereitstellt - kosmopolitische. Foster
diskutiert hier u. a. das Beispiel einer marginalen Eth-
nie (Urapmin), die ihr millenaristisches Christentum als
einen kosmopolitischen Gegenentwurf zum Nationalis-
mus versteht, für die Teilnahme an dieser weltumspan-
nenden Gemeinschaft aber den hohen Preis der Selbst-
erniedrigung zahlt. Im abschließenden Kapitel zeigt
Foster anhand der Marketing- und Werbestrategien des
Softdrink-Konzems Coca-Cola in PNG, wie globale
Produkte zur Konstruktion nationaler Identitäten benützt
werden können und die Bedeutung dieser Produkte
ständig neu verhandelt wird zwischen Konzernleuten ei-
nerseits und Konsumenten andererseits. Der Artikel wird
abgeschlossen durch kurze Überlegungen allgemeinerer
Art über die Herausforderungen ethnologischer Feldfor-
schung im Zeitalter der Globalisierung, wobei Foster
für ethnologische Teamarbeit und das Zurücklassen des
Images heldenhafter Selbstgenügsamkeit plädiert.
Fosters Buch belegt eindrücklich die bleibende At-
traktivität des Modells “Nation” und zugleich die un-
geheure Vielfalt an Aneignungen und Transformationen
dieses Modells, ohne damit einer naiven lokalen Krea-
tivität das Wort zu reden oder konkurrierende Modelle
kollektiver Identitäten aus dem Blick zu verlieren. Durch
den Fokus auf alltäglich-banale Prozesse von nation
making ist es auch eine methodische und theoretische
Bereicherung für die Erforschung von Nationalisierun-
gen und Nationalismen, gerade auch - aber nicht nur -
in schwachen Staaten. Das Buch zeigt auch den drin-
genden Bedarf an weitergehenden Untersuchungen auf:
Inwieweit und in welcher Weise wird die so elegant
analysierte nationale Rhetorik kommerzieller Produkt-
werbung von den Konsumenten des Landes tatsächlich
rezipiert - und nicht nur im urbanen Umfeld? Darüber
kann Foster leider sehr wenig sagen.
Fosters Buch hat sich, dank der in sich abgeschlosse-
nen Kapitel und der anschaulichen Fallstudien, im Übri-
gen auch im akademischen Lehrbetrieb bestens bewährt.
Abschließend sollte vielleicht darauf hingewiesen wer-
den, dass die eingangs angedeutete nationale Kampagne
“Kaugummi statt Betelnuss” für zeitgemäßeres Bürger-
tum eher erfolglos blieb. Hans Reithofer
Fuentes Guerra, Jesús, y Armin Schwegler: Len-
gua y ritos del Palo Monte Mayombe. Dioses cubanos
y sus fuentes africanas. Frankfurt: Vervuert; Madrid:
Iberoamericana, 2005. 258 pp. ISBN 3-86527-153-7;
ISBN 84-8489-143-7. Preis: € 24.00
Afrokubanische Religionen erfreuen sich seit eini-
gen Jahren zunehmender Aufmerksamkeit. Waren in
Deutschland vor 10 Jahren gerade mal zwei Arbeiten
dazu verfasst, so laufen derzeit mehrere Forschungspro-
jekte an deutschen Universitäten. Die meisten Wissen-
schaftler (nicht nur in Deutschland) beschäftigen sich
mit der Santería genannten Religion, die heute allerdings
eher unter dem Namen Regla de Ocha oder Lucumi-
Religion bekannt ist, d. h. mit der Religion, die sich
überwiegend auf Yoruba-Traditionen zurückführen lässt.
Aber so wie auch in Brasilien derzeit ein Umschwung
von der Erforschung von Yoruba-Traditionen hin zur
Forschung über Angola-Traditionen zu verzeichnen ist,
so lässt sich die gleiche Tendenz auch in Kuba fest-
stellen, wenngleich noch in den Anfängen. Die vorlie-
gende Publikation über die Regla de Palo Monte wird
diese Entwicklung unterstützen, liegt doch mit diesem
Werk endlich eine solide Monographie zur Palo Monte
Mayombe Religion vor.
Bei Palo Monte handelt es sich um eine Religi-
on, die nach ihren Anhängern auf sogenannte Bantu-
Traditionen zurückgeht. Kuba-Spezialisten ist sie noch
immer vor allem durch die etwas veraltete Arbeit von
Lydia Cabrera bekannt, wenngleich sich Robert Farris
Thompson auch bereits seit einigen Jahren den Kon-
go-Einflüssen in afroamerikanischen Kulturen widmet
(allerdings nicht schwerpunktmäßig in Kuba). Die Auto-
ren des vorliegenden Werkes gehen nun den Kikongo-
Spuren in der Nomenklatura der Religion nach, d. h.
sie untersuchen die etymologische Herkunft ritueller
Begriffe im Palo Monte. Ihre These ist, dass die Palo
Monte Tradition Produkt einer direkten Übertragung aus
Afrika ist und von versklavten Bakongo (aus der Region
der heutigen Staaten Kongo und Angola) nach Kuba
gebracht und bewahrt wurde. D.h. sie widersprechen
Thesen einer Vermischung verschiedener sprachlicher
Einflüsse aus der Subsahara (132) oder gar der These
eines haitianischen Einflusses (92). Desgleichen weisen
sie Einflüsse aus anderen afrokubanischen Traditionen
zurück und schreiben nachdrücklich, dass es abgesehen
von Kikongo keine anderen afrikanischen Einflüsse in
Palo Monte gibt (133).
Es handelt sich bei dem vorliegenden Buch nicht um
eine religionsethnologische Arbeit, sondern vielmehr um
eine soziolinguistische Studie, was nicht nur am Inhalt,
sondern auch an einigen methodologischen Aspekten
deutlich erkennbar ist. Beispielsweise stellen die Au-
toren ihren Forschungskontext erst ab der Seite 89 vor.
Jesús Fuentes Guerra und Armin Schwegler sind beide
Linguisten, Fuentes Guerra hat bereits einige Bücher
zu Palo Monte in Kuba veröffentlicht und Schwegler,
Linguistik-Professor in Irvine an der Universität von
Kalifornien, ist ein bekannter Spezialist für Kreolspra-
chen mit Studien zu Costa Rica, Kolumbien und nun
seit etwa fünf Jahren in Kuba. Im Vordergrund der
Abhandlung stehen daher auch nicht eine Beschreibung
der religiösen Inhalte von Palo Monte oder eine Analyse,
was die Rituale den Gläubigen bedeuten. Vielmehr wird
minutiös die rituelle Sprache analysiert und den lin-
guistischen Ursprüngen von Götternamen und anderen
religiösen Begriffen nachgegangen. Da Palo Monte, im
Unterschied zur Santería, kaum über Texte verfügt (91),
sondern allein mündlich tradiert wird, ist eine Analyse
der Sprache überaus wertvoll. Das Buch stellt damit
wichtiges Material für weitere ethnologische Forschun-
gen zur Verfügung. Vor allem die Wort-für-Wort Ana-
lyse ritueller Dialoge und Lieder beinhaltet wertvolle
Anthropos 101.2006
612
Rezensionen
Angaben und demonstriert auf hervorragende Weise die
Relevanz linguistischer Untersuchungen für die Ethno-
logie.
Die Forschung wurde 2002-2003 in der Provinz
Cienfuegos durchgeführt, der Heimatregion von Fuen-
tes Guerra, der bereits lange vor dieser gemeinsamen
Forschung in der Region gearbeitet hat. Cienfuegos gilt
als Zentrum der religiösen Praktik von Palo Monte. Es
handelt sich beim Palo Monte allerdings keineswegs um
eine homogene Religion, sondern um familiäre Prakti-
ken (“es una religiön de familia”; 93), um ein zeremo-
nielles Konglomerat wie die Autoren schreiben.
Der Text ist in zwei Teile gegliedert. Im ersten Teil
wird auf etwa 80 Seiten die Religion vorgestellt. Die
Gliederung wirkt hier sehr bruchstückhaft. Das Kapitel
ist in fünfzehn Unterpunkte zerlegt, wobei einige Punkte
gerade mal eine Seite lang sind. In diesem Kapitel hätten
eine zusammenhängende Struktur und eine etwas flie-
ßendere Schreibweise die Fesequalität doch sehr erhöht.
Die Autoren nähern sich dem Thema, d. h. der Palo
Monte Religion, aus einer essentialistischen Perspek-
tive an, indem sie beispielsweise zuerst grob sieben
Komponenten des Palo Monte und die drei Untertei-
lungen nennen, bevor sie zu ihren soziolinguistischen
Studien kommen (ab Seite 48). Die essentialistische
Vorgehensweise, die in der Ethnologie heute zu Recht
umstritten ist, illustriert wieder einmal, dass es sich halt
nicht um eine ethnologische Studie handelt, sondern um
eine soziolinguistische, die einer anderen Forschungs-
methode folgt. Statt das Konglomerat darzustellen, wird
(allerdings nur anfänglich) so getan, als ob Aussagen
über die gesamte Palo Monte Religion getroffen werden
können.
Trotz dieser Kritik aus ethnologischer Perspektive
handelt es sich bei der Publikation um eine gute sozio-
linguistische Einzelstudie, wie vor allem der folgende
Teil von Kapitel 1, in denen die Autoren ganze Ri-
tualdialoge untersuchen (61-81) und in die Bestandteile
zerpflücken, zeigt. Faszinierend ist auch, wie sie aufzei-
gen, wie sich ein Name eines Initianden zusammensetzt,
wobei sie allerdings - sehr korrekt - nur hypothetische
Namen als Beispiele angeben, da die Nennung eines
rituellen Namens außerhalb des rituellen Kontextes ver-
boten ist (vgl. Graphik 1; 87). Ab Seite 89 beschreiben
die Autoren dann den Forschungsrahmen. Sie nehmen
dabei auch kurz Stellung zur These, dass die Kongo-
Traditionen auf haitianischen Einfluss beruhen, wobei
sie die These aufgrund fehlender historischer Belege
über Einwanderer in dieser Region rigoros ablehnen
(92); historisch lassen sich haitianische Einwanderer
lediglich im östlichen Teil der Insel feststellen. Damit
bereiten sie bereits den Boden für ihre These des starken
Bakongo-Einflusses auf Kuba aufgrund der transatlan-
tischen Sklaverei.
Ab Seite 95 präsentieren die Autoren dann erste
Ergebnisse ihrer Forschung und weisen in rituellen
Begriffen des Palo Monte Kikongo-Wörter nach, d. h.
aus der Sprache der zentralafrikanischen Bakongo. Auch
gehen die Autoren am Ende des Kapitels noch kurz
auf die Bedeutung der Studien von Cabrera ein (106),
da sie diese in ihrem 2. Kapitel oft heranziehen. Die-
ser Teil lenkt somit bereits zum 2. Kapitel (129-200)
über, das eine detaillierte etymologische Analyse von
38 rituellen Begriffen aus Palo Monte enthält. Die Au-
toren geben dabei auch die Entsprechungen aus der
Santería an sowie die Stellen, wo Cabrera oder an-
deren Autoren etwas zur etymologischen Herkunft der
Begriffe geschrieben haben, um ihre These zu belegen,
dass Palo Monte ausschließlich von Kikongo abstammt.
Im Unterschied beispielsweise zum “Atlas etnográfico
y lingüístico de Cuba” (La Habana 1999) finden die
beiden Autoren somit keine Relikte aus anderen Bantu-
Sprachen oder gar andere Einflüsse in der Nomenklatura
(133). Kikongo wurde, wie die Autoren schreiben, als
Sprachmatrix bewahrt, wobei natürlich dabei gewisse
Vereinfachungen und Veränderungen durchgeführt wur-
den. Das soll aber nicht bedeuten, dass Palo Monte
Anhänger nun Kinkongo sprechen; vielmehr charakte-
risieren die Autoren die afrikanischen Elemente der ri-
tuellen Sprache als “restrukturiertes Kikongo” (kikongo
reestructurado; 133). Obwohl sich die Untersuchung auf
linguistische Elemente beschränkt, so präsentieren die
Autoren doch eine interessante Theorie im Kontext der
Afroamerika-Studien, und belegen sie auch mit zahl-
reichen, sehr fundierten linguistischen Beispielen. Es
ist nun zu wünschen, dass eine fundierte ethnologische
Arbeit über Palo Monte folgen wird.
Abschließend möchte ich noch einmal betonen, dass
die Publikation, obwohl es sich dabei nicht um eine
ethnologische Untersuchung handelt und einige Punkte
nicht anspricht, eine wertvolle Materialsammlung für
Ethnologen anbietet. Allen, die sich mit Kuba, aber
auch allgemein mit Afroamerika und der Beziehung
zwischen Afroamerika und Afrika beschäftigen, kann
ich das Buch sehr empfehlen. Bettina Schmidt
Green, Sarah F.: Notes from the Balkans. Locating
Marginality and Ambiguity on the Greek-Albanian Bor-
der. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005. 313 pp.
ISBN 0-691-12199-0. Price: £ 14.95
It is rare to come across books that are utterly ab-
sorbing and make you want to underline every sentence.
And it is even less likely that such a book happens to
be an anthropological monograph. Sarah Green’s “Notes
from the Balkan,” however, is one of those texts that are
written and illuminating in a way that turn reading into
a truly exciting experience.
Based on fifteen years of intervallic research in and
around Epirus, a region in northwestern Greece on
the border with Albania, Green explores “the Balkans”
as an ideological concept herein focusing on places
and spaces of marginality. During a time of emphasis
on transnationalism, transmigration, and globalisation,
Green successfully manages to reverse paradigmatic
(post-)modem assumptions regarding indeterminacy and
fluidity illustrating that ambiguity can be equally hege-
monic and subject to disciplinary regimes as clarity
(12). In this ambitious endeavour she goes way beyond
the standard anthropological approaches of alternative
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
613
modernities and circumnavigates oversimplifying and
hastily assumptions indicating that marginality in itself
provides an antidote to prevalent master narratives and
eventually challenges prevailing certainties.
In the course of seven chapters, Green elaborates
her original hypothesis that marginality, in contrast with
conventional understandings, is not so much a matter
of difference and separation, but rather a lack thereof.
The Balkans face a long tradition of being maintained
as the opposite and outside of “Western modernity,”
but in reading “Notes from the Balkans” it becomes
increasingly clear that the region poses a threat to the
very logic of such modernist distinctions. The text - as
she herself points out - is a combination of sociopolit-
ical commentaries, geomorphological accounts, anthro-
pological accounts, and the accounts of people around
the Kasidaris mountain in the Pogoni area of Epirus
(141). Furthermore, it is a theoretical masterpiece, close-
ly analysing how the interrelations and fragmentations
of the way things seem (narratives, rhetoric, representa-
tions, images, numbers) and the way things are (borders
and passports, political economy, social relationships)
inform people’s everyday experiences of place and be-
longing (29).
In the first two chapters, “Marginal Margins” and
“Travels,” Green contextualises her study and describes
how Pogoni people identify themselves in terms of place
and “relative location.” Focusing on the differing ways
how people use and move around the landscape she
argues that travel, (illegal) border crossing, migration,
and exchange of populations do not necessarily involve
displacement - especially not in places where political
borders are continually contested. In an area like Epirus
that is tectonically active that not even the newly built
asphalt roads stay put, people do neither tend to perceive
environmental change nor movement as a result of nat-
ural disasters or limited economic resources as anoma-
lous. Drawing on the observation that continuous change
of one’s surrounding can be considered ordinary, Green
develops her theory on the imposition of fractality upon
the Balkans by taking unsuccessful personal attempts to
clarify ambiguity during her fieldwork in terms of use
and applicability of maps, naming of places, researching
environmental sustainability and land ownership, as well
as gathering information about borders and boundaries
into consideration.
“This is the Balkans, Sarah; what do you expect?”
is the recurrent laconic reaction to the anthropolo-
gist’s confusion and eager attempts to understand and
make sense of the local’s ambiguous sociopolitical ac-
counts. She concludes that this somewhat surprising
self-identification as part of the Balkans is not just a
way to avoid troublesome questions, but rather indicates
her Epirot interlocutors’ suggestion that she should not
expect to get to the bottom of things, as “that is not what
the Balkans are about” (12). Thus, her initial observation
that in this region things tend to continually change but
stay the same consequently informs the way she further
investigates people’s insistence on ambiguity and their
simultaneous desire for imposed clarity.
In the third chapter, “Moving Mountains,” Green
elaborates the three interrelated themes instability, visi-
bility/invisibility, and movement in relation to environ-
mental forces and persuasively argues that the com-
bination of relative invisibility, lack of distinction, as
well as a lack of perceived importance of both, people
and place, constitute an environmental, geographical,
social, economic, and political marginalisation around
the Greek-Albanian border that epitomises the “typical
Balkan topography” (100). She is spatially locating the
political and historical instability and fluidity of Epirus
and shows how the place is constituted as more Balkan
than other parts of mainland Greece. After all the repet-
itive debates on whether the “Balkans” exist and/or how
they are constantly (re-)constructed, Green rather inno-
vatively focuses on the shifting “whereness” of places
and people in Epirus, that is to say the interrelatedness
of the place and its inhabitants with other places and
other times.
Chapter four is entitled “The Balkan Fractal” and
constitutes the theoretical core of the book. Green here
expands her observations in Epirus to the entirety of the
Balkans and claims that the region is not maintained
as the “other” and outside of “Western modernity,” as
widely assumed, but has rather been continuously in the
process of being incorporated. Her approach questions
the currently hegemonic discourse on the Balkans as
being in a continual state of fragmentation: the region
has been constructed as a plethora of “gaps” and Green
argues that these gaps should not be considered as mere
empty spaces that separate things but rather constitute
relations between things; an approach that she describes
in terms of “relational fragmentation” (130). And al-
though it has recently more or less become a custom to
transfer concepts from natural science (such as entropy,
rhizomes, fractals, and most recently frictions) to social
theory and literary criticism, Green uses the fractals of
chaos theory in an unique way to illustrate the contra-
dictions of modernity in the sense that the hegemonic
concept of the Balkans strongly resists the possibility
of imaging the Balkans as “modem.” A fractal way of
thinking assumes “that each bit or part is a complete
whole in itself; if they are aggregated together, the
result is another version of the whole, not something
different from each individual bit. The only way to
understand fractals is by looking at the relations already
contained both within and between the parts ..., not
by aggregating them together and hoping that some en-
compassing relationship among all the parts will reveal
itself’ (163 f.). In this sense, the Balkans’ apparently
post-modem character concerning the continual decon-
struction of borders and continual conflicts over the
truth of history threatens clearly resolved “modernist”
separations and rather calls into question oppositions be-
tween “West” and “East,” “Orient” and “Occident.” The
Balkans continue to be characterized as a region that has
the potential to perpetuate and proliferate insecurity by
imposing set borders and spreading conflicts elsewhere.
At the same time, Europe’s emphasis on multicultural-
ism is of limited use and applicability to places where
Anthropos 101.2006
614
Rezensionen
essentialist notions of culture and identity are gradually
fostered to guarantee long-lasting stability.
In the following interrelated chapters “Counting” and
“Embodied Recounting,” Green further pursues the issue
of gaps and what they contain in focusing on “techniques
and processes of accounting for things through counting
them, turning them into numbers, and considering how
such accounts interweave with other things” (160).
Differentiating between a statistical way of thinking
and a fractal way of thinking she explores how the
people in Epirus handle statistics, numbers, and other
official data and how this informs their ambiguous (and
cynical) relationships with the state. As she develops
a sense of the place by systematically hiking through
it, she becomes increasingly entangled into statistics
and aware of the fact that the region is not so much
informed by Epirot peoples’ past embodied connection
but rather by official institutions’ relation with the place.
Such physical experiences of numbers range from the
existence/absence of newly built asphalt roads, land
improvement programs, border controls, overgrowth and
reforestation of the mountains to the visible installation
of EU-funded development programs. In a fascinating
manner Green describes how the people in Epirus
entangle the statistical stories with the place and with
themselves and, most importantly, how the classification
of people and places is in a constant flux. Analysing
how numbers were compiled differently during different
periods she reflects on the administrative and political
influence of the late Ottoman period as well as marks
left by the Marshall plan, the military junta, the break-up
of communist Europe (leading to the reopening of the
Greek-Albanian border), and finally Greece’s entry into
the European Union in 1981.
In the last chapter, “Developments,” she finally dis-
cusses the changes the area witnessed in the 1980s and
1990s retelling fragments of the makings and under-
standings of the collective and contested stories about
Epirus. Focusing on the combined entanglement of
the European Union and the reopening of the Greek-
Albanian border she analyses how this interrelatedness
tends to “reiterate the ambiguity and peculiar ordinari-
ness” (219) of the place. She describes how EU-funded
development projects aiming to develop productivity
in mountainous areas focus on (eco-)tourism, “cultur-
al heritage,” and “natural beauty” thus implementing
concepts of “development” and “modernization” that
seem to be intended to “de-mechanize” and “tradition-
alize” these regions (193). But contrary to the initial
intentions the imposed backing of regionalism as op-
posed to nationalism, and sustainability as opposed to
industrialization yet again produced new gaps, as the
majority of EU-funded development programs request a
certain clarity of boundaries and belonging alongside a
distinctive identity and place that opposes the practised
ordinariness of marginality and Balkan ambiguities. This
leads to the paradoxical situation that “maintaining a
clear separation between the Greek and the Albanian
sides could be done only through a continual refusal to
clarify the ambiguities, through ignoring the leftovers of
previous attempts to establish separations that could not
be resolved because the location of the separations (as it
were) remained contested” (226). The particular version
of “modernization” being proposed through EU devel-
opment criteria resulted not only in renewed attempts
to change the shape and the names of people but also
provoked - and keeps provoking - interventionist local
understandings of modernity. In the case of the Epirot
village Pogoniani this brought about the idea to apply
for funding to “reconstruct” a wild boar sanctuary - a
project that, although granted by the EU, was never com-
pleted and caused massive protests among local trans-
humant pastoralists who were cut off their “traditional
routes” and suspicious of external intervention based
on the notion of “nested hierarchies of modernization”
(243). Green argues whatever kind of modernity was
going to be implemented would never be considered
the “real thing” as the place is understood as lacking
distinction and as “axiomatically not having access to
‘authentic’ (‘Western’) modernity” (247).
“Notes from the Balkans” provides a remarkably in-
sightful account of contemporary life and environmental
change in the Greek-Albanian border area. The book
would be substantially strengthened if Green addressed
Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell’s standard publi-
cation “The Corrupting Sea - A Study of Mediterranean
History” (first published in 2000). Because the elaborate
comparative geographical and historical case studies as-
sembled in Horden and Purcell’s volume correspond so
closely to Green’s own concern they would have supple-
mented and contextualised her exploration of people’s
changing relationships with their unstable environment
in the Mediterranean Basin.
Overall the book presents an important contribution
to the present debate on multiculturalism and is central
to an understanding of ambiguity and shifting notions of
“authentic” modernity in the marginalised parts of the
world. Drawing on a thick ethnographic description of
the social reality in the Epirot area, Green provocatively
turns the common perceptions of the region upside down
and constantly surprises the reader with her original
way of looking at things. In addition to providing
carefully selected statistical accounts, visual materials,
and a very efficient index, “Notes from the Balkan” is
brilliantly written, humorous, and - despite its elaborate
theoretical approach - free of all pretentious jargon. All
this makes “Notes from the Balkans” an enormously
stimulating book to read.
Green’s theoretical reflections on “The Balkan Frac-
tal” (128-158) complements Maria Todorova’s ground-
breaking analysis “Imagining the Balkans” (1997) and
Slavoj Zizek’s scattered scrutiny. This chapter stands
alone and offers a condensation of the entire book.
This is maybe one of the most significant texts written
about the current hegemonic imagination of the Balkans
within the past ten years. And although it might seem a
somewhat ironic twist that Green has written a central
book on marginality and the condition of being marginal,
“Notes from the Balkans” is an indispensable text not
only for scholars interested in the Balkan and/or the
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
615
Mediterranean region but all those who want to know
more about anthropological theories of marginality, am-
biguity, and the interrelatedness between the global pol-
itics of “modernisation” and the local.
Michaela Schäuble
Gudermann, Rita, und Bernhard Wulff: Der Sa-
rotti-Mohr. Die bewegte Geschichte einer Werbefigur.
Berlin: Ch. Links Verlag, 2004. 174 pp. ISBN 3-86153-
341-3. Preis: €29.90
Wer kennt ihn nicht? Der Bekanntheitsgrad des
Sarotti-Mohren ist sehr groß - 9 von 10 Deutschen wis-
sen, wer er ist, aber kennen sie ihn wirklich? In mensch-
licher Gestalt war der Sarotti-Mohr in der Vergangenheit
gelegentlich in der Öffentlichkeit zu Werbezwecken zu
sehen. Heutzutage ist das nicht mehr passend. Die wech-
selvolle Geschichte des Sarotti-Mohren war bereits im
Herbst 2004 in der Kulturbühne des bekannten Berli-
ner Kulturkaufhauses als Ausstellung zum druckfrischen
Bilderlesebuch zu sehen. Seit Frühjahr 2005 sind am
historischen Ort in den Sarotti-Höfen erstmals ein Café
und Hotel in Betrieb. Als Wirtschaftsjournalistin zeich-
net Rita Gudermann die Entwicklung der Firma Sarotti
nach und spitzt sie auf die prominente Figur des Moh-
ren zu. Mit seiner reichhaltigen Sammlung von Sarotti-
Artikeln steht ihr der Werbetechniker Bernhard Wulff
zur Seite.
Worin liegt der Reiz von Schokolade? Feine französi-
sche Confiserieware importierte der Firmengründer
Heinrich Ludwig Neumann in die Berliner Friedrich-
straße. Die aphrodisierende Wirkung von flüssig ge-
nossener Schokolade war bekannt. Der Rohstoff Kakao
stammte aus den Tropen. Die kurze deutsche Koloni-
alzeit war bei Kriegsbeginn 1914 beendet. Zur mas-
senhaften Verbreitung von Schokoladenwaren hat die
mehrfache Verfeinerung in der Verarbeitung und im
Vertrieb beigetragen. Produkte der Firma Sarotti sind
Qualitätsprodukte. Zum 50. Firmenjubiläum 1918 schuf
der Grafiker Julius Gipkens den Sarotti-Mohren, da-
mals schon eine Erinnerung an die Zeiten, als es noch
deutsche Kolonialwaren gab. Der kleine, blau und rot
gewandete Sarotti-Mohr begleitete die deutsche Kon-
sumgesellschaft durch die Jahrzehnte, wurde selbst aber
nicht älter und größer. Afrikanische Kinderpagen in ori-
entalischer Kleidung dienten in Europa seit dem 16. Jh.
09). Die Blickfangfunktion des exotischen Jungen ist
wichtig, wenn kleine Darsteller Prominenten wie Romy
Schneider (133) Pralinen überreichen.
Die wirtschaftlich goldenen Zeiten des Sarotti-Moh-
ren lagen in seinen ersten zehn Lebensjahren, den Gol-
denen Zwanzigern. Mit seiner zu Goldfarbe überge-
gangenen Hautfarbe erhielt er 2004 auch einen neuen
Namen als “Magier der Sinne”, der mit Sternen jongliert
statt Pralinen darzureichen. Die wirtschaftlich erfolg-
reichste Zeit wird erst noch erwartet. Ziel ist ein 100-
Nlillionen-Euro-Umsatz (153), der noch nicht zur Hälfte
erreicht ist. Zum Sarotti-Firmenjubiläum 1918 trat der
Sarotti-Mohr zu dritt mit seinen zwei Brüdern erst-
mals auf, seit 1922 ist er allein Markenzeichen. Um
1952 paddelt er auch mit 4 identischen Brüdern auf
der Pralinenschachtel, die als Classic Edition No. 4 zur
Jahrtausendwende wieder auftaucht.
Schokoladenzeit ist Mußezeit. Da passen Minige-
schichten gut. War der Sarotti-Mohr früher in kleinen
Geschichten (das Rendezvous; 128) zum Schmunzeln
zu sehen, werden in der neuen Marketingzeit Kunden
auf der Packung direkt angesprochen und um ihre eige-
nen Geschichten vom Sarotti-Mohren gebeten. Mit einer
Sarotti-Tasse als Dankeschön (154) wird die Kundenbin-
dung gestärkt. Das Genussmittel Schokolade eignet sich
zum Verzehr vor und beim Wohlfühlen, als Leckerli bei
Stimmungsschwankungen, als Belohnung und als Extra
(Pralinen) in angenehmer Runde: “Für den plötzlichen
Appetit auf etwas Süßes. (Mitten in der Arbeit - und
auch sonst ...)” (134).
Treue Fans sind nicht begeistert von der Kritik am
erneuten Lancieren des Mohren als “Magier der Sinne”
und fragen, “welche Gefahr schon von einer bunten
Werbefigur mit großen Kulleraugen ausgehen solle” (8).
So sehr unterscheiden sich die Sichtweisen - einem Fan
kommt gar nicht der Gedanke, dass sich schwarze Men-
schen in Deutschland durch die massenhafte Verbreitung
der Marke Sarotti-Mohr (Kind) im kollektiven deutschen
Gedächtnis in ihrer Würde herabgesetzt sehen können.
Tatsächlich kann man heutzutage nicht nur über eine
Wohltätigkeitsorganisation Post von einem schwarzen
Patenkind erhalten, sondern auch vom Sarotti-Mohren,
“Ihrem Freund” (152). Der große Unterschied liegt dar-
in, dass ein afrikanisches Patenkind gern nimmt, weil
es wenig hat, und der Sarotti-Mohr gibt. So scheint es
nur auf den ersten Blick, denn der Mohr überreicht, was
ihm selbst nicht gehört.
Das flüssig geschriebene Bilderlesebuch enthält vie-
le farbige Abbildungen, und es eignet sich auch als
Gesprächseinstieg über Bilder fremder Menschen mit
Nichtethnologlnnen. Der zeithistorische Kontext läuft
als roter Faden mit. Die Autorin und der Autor gehen
auch auf Kult und Kritik ein. Durch dieses Buch wur-
de eine Forschungslücke in Form von unbearbeiteten
Archivmaterialien geschlossen. Ein schönes Buch zur
materiellen Kultur der Schokoladenwelt und ihrem be-
kanntesten imaginären Helden, dem Sarotti-Mohren.
Elisabeth Schwarzer
Gutwirth, Jacques: The Rebirth of Hasidism. 1945
to the Present Day. London: Free Association Books,
2005. 198 pp. ISBN 1-85343-774-3. Price: £19.95
Hasidut, or Hasidism, is a traditional Jewish religious
movement with three distinguishing charismatic ele-
ments. Firstly, adherents place themselves in a close-knit
community bound by personal allegiance to a specific
rebbe, believed to have special charismatic connections
to the Divine, often manifested in healing, clairvoyance,
and other miraculous powers. Secondly, this charisma is
intergenerationally and dynastically transmitted to con-
sanguineal or affinal kin; a son or son-in-law of the rebbe
typically receives the mantle. Thirdly, prayer traditions
emphasize kavanah (concentration), devekut (attachment
Anthropos 101.2006
616
Rezensionen
to God), and simhah (joyfulness, often overflowing into
dance). Numerous additional customs (dress, pronunci-
ations of Hebrew, etc.) distinguish Hasidim from other
Jews and from each other. But these three charismatic
elements constitute a stable, unifying, and distinctive
anthropological core of the Hasidic movement.
Anthropologist Jacques Gutwirth has given us a mas-
terful overview of the origin and recent (post-World-
War-II) evolution of Hasidism, which now may have
400,000 adherents, perhaps half of them now in Israel,
attached to dozens of distinct rebbes. After a chapter on
East-European origins, Gutwirth takes us on a city-by-
city journey through today’s Hasidic world: Antwerp,
Brooklyn (with its neighborhoods Williamsburg, Bor-
ough Park, and Crown Heights), Jerusalem, Bnei-Brak,
and Paris, the post-Holocaust centers of the movement.
In each locale he discusses the dominant Hasidic group:
its rebbes, its customs, its current economic and de-
mographic base, its inner squabbles, and its external
relations with the American, Israeli, or French State.
The book is a rich treasure of information, some of
it statistical, most of it descriptive and historical. A
concluding chapter discusses common themes.
The book will be useful to those already interested
in and familiar with Hasidism who desire a broader his-
torical and geographical panorama. Even Hasidim could
learn from Gutwirth about other Hasidim. The book may
be less exciting for anthropologists of religion, except
as a data-rich sourcebook, since there is no systematic
exposition of the shared beliefs and rituals that distin-
guish Hasidism from other varieties of orthodoxy, or that
distinguish different Hasidic groups from each other.
Insights are present, but they surface sporadically. And
though Gutwirth did fieldwork in Antwerp in the 1960s
for his first book, here he is principally a reviewer of a
9-page bibliography, less an anthropological fieldworker
as an appendix explains. The reader is unsure how much
time he spent in places like Bnei-Brak or Williamsburg,
or what he did while there. In short, the book is a reli-
able, informative compendium of scholarly information
written by a knowledgeable anthropologist, but not an
“anthropological study.” It is valuable for what it is and
should not be critiqued for what it is not.
Translation was doubly challenging: Gutwirth first
had to choose French equivalents for Yiddish/Hebrew
terms, then Leighton had to retranslate the terms to
English. Both made some curious decisions that marred
an otherwise excellent translation. Hasidim often pray
not in large synagogues with forward-facing pews but
in smaller intimate rooms with chairs or benches around
tables, where prayer is charismatic and occasionally
raucous, each person praying at his own pace with
occasional spontaneous outbursts. Such a locale, some-
what unique to Hasidism, is called a shtiebl (from Ger-
manic “little room”). Gutwirth puzzingly called them
oratoires, “oratories” in the English translation. An or-
atory is either a generic name for any place of prayer,
including churches and mosques, or more often a small,
private chapel, usually Catholic. (When in doubt, get
thee to Google. “Oratory” yields nearly seven million
hits. “Catholic oratory” in quotes yields 7,800. “Hasidic
oratory” yields zero.) Hasidim don’t pray in oratories
(sounds like a Jesuit chapel). They daven in shul or in
the shtiebl. Some words are best explained to readers
and left as is.
Even more aggravating are those mysterious Jewish
“penitents” that pop up page after page. Gutwirth had
to devise a French term for baale teshuvah, nonobser-
vant Jews who “return” to religion. He chose French
repenti, translated into English as “penitent.” That word
in English evokes a Catholic sinner who has taken on
special punishments - self-flagellation, ascending cathe-
dral stairs on bended knees, saying five Hail Mary’s
after confession. Such privatized penances are rare in
Judaism. If you are a pork-eating Jewish Sabbath-
desecrator ashamed of your ways, you don’t “do
penance.” You simply forget the past, eat kosher food,
walk to a synagogue on Sabbath, etc. No extra penances
- no whips, no fasting, no five shma-Israels - are
required for past pork orgies. To translate baal teshuvah,
“newly religious” would be better than the goyische term
“penitent,” which occurs not once or twice but all over
the book.
Unlike these minor points, a generic negative tone is
created by Gutwirth’s puzzling insistence on labeling
Hasidim as ultra-this or ultra-that. (They are ultra-
religious, ultra-orthodox, and ultra-traditional. Even the
knife they use to slaughter animals is ultra-sharp.)
An English-speaking reader wonders why Gutwirth
spent time writing about people that he so strongly
disapproves of. But this may be a linguistic illusion.
In French ultra simply means “very” with no built-in
judgment. In French you can be ultra-fatigué (dead
tired). French knives can be “ultra-sharp”, clothing
“ultra-chic,” and people ultra-sympa (super-nice). The
prefix indicates quantity or degree, not negativity.
Not so in English. Except in physics (“ultra-violet”),
the prefix “ultra” in English means not only “very,”
but also “excessive,” or “fanatic.” It is negative even
with positive adjectives. (Super-polite is fine. But “he’s
ultra-polite” means something’s wrong with his polite-
ness.) When the book repeatedly calls Hasidim “ultra-
religious” or “ultra-orthodox”, their religiosity or ortho-
doxy comes across as fanatical or exaggerated. Since
French ultra lacks this built-in negativity, Gutwirth’s
frequent ultra-religieux and ultra-orthodoxe should have
been rendered in English as “deeply religious” or “high-
ly orthodox,” or something similar. Perhaps Gutwirth
should have toned down his ultra-attachment to the
prefix “ultra” even in French. It should emphatically not
have been there in the English translation. It peppered
his entire book with negative connotations against the
Hasidim, which were (presumably and hopefully) not
intended in the original French.
Beyond language, there are deeper issues of anthro-
pological explanation. The cover hinted that Gutwirth
would go beyond mere demography to help “explain”
the “population explosion” of Hasidim. He deserves a
second chance. He valiantly invokes political, economic,
and social factors as explanatory factors for the rebirth of
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
617
Hasidism; the diamond industry in Antwerp, favorable
U.S. immigration laws, democracy, and freedom from
anti-Semitism. It sounds good - until one scratches the
surface. Those same sociopolitical variables “permitted
a flight from religiosity” among other sectors of world
Jewry. Why, in the same democratic Jew-friendly Amer-
ican context, do some Jews become fervent Hasidim,
others become militant atheists, and yet others settle for
bland ethnic dabbling, just enough low-keyed assimilat-
ed yiddishkeit so that son Jason or daughter Tiffany can
get through their bar- or bat-mitzvah in a synagogue
they’re unlikely to revisit.
In “The Rebirth of Hasidism” Gutwirth has given
us a statistically and descriptively rich overview of
the Hasidic world. The book is a major contribution.
Hopefully he will give us a sequel that probes the deeper
causal forces that lead some Jews to embrace, and others
to reject, the rebbes and their Hasidim.
Gerald F. Murray
Handelman, Don, and Galina Lindquist (eds.):
Ritual in Its Own Right. Exploring the Dynamics of
Transformation. New York: Berghahn Books, 2005.
232 pp. ISBN 1-84545-051-5. Price: £ 15.00
Naturally, the interpretation of ritual follows ways
of interpreting religion. The main question concerns
the possibility of an approach, which does not reduce
ritual to social, cultural, psychological, etc. phenomena.
“Ritual in Its Own Right,” as a title, is a promising
thesis, which argues for the originality of the ritual
phenomenon. The authors of this collective work intend
to understand ritual by analyzing its core structure. It
involves to some extent the employing of the phe-
nomenological method consisting of the separation of
the studied event from its social context (bracketing),
analyzing it (using different methods, also empathy),
and putting it back to its context with larger knowledge
about it. The contributing authors follow this procedure
to varying degrees.
The first essay written by Bruce Kapferer, “Ritual
Dynamics and Virtual Practice. Beyond Representation
and Meaning,” focuses on the inner dynamics of ritual.
The main function of ritual is not to represent some-
thing but to create, generate, and produce some effects.
According to the author, although the representational,
meaning-driven, symbolic perspective is still important,
a shift needs to be made to viewing “ritual as a dy-
namic for the production of meaning” (50). Following
the ideas of S. Danger, V. Turner, and G. Deleuze, the
author treats ritual as virtuality, “a dynamic process in
and of itself with no essential representational symbolic
relation to external realities” (46). The virtuality of ritual
is dynamic and allows rituals to take shape in all kinds
of the potentiality of human experience. In that con-
struction the participants can detach themselves from the
constraints of everyday life and create something new, at
least imaginatively. The second characteristic of ritual’s
virtuality is its capacity to enter the concrete dynamics
of life and to regulate life-processes. “By means of the
virtuality of ritual, ritualists engage with positioning and
structurating processes that are otherwise impossible to
address in the tempo and dynamics of ordinary lived
processes as these are lived at the surface” (48). Ritual
performance can be imagined as a field of forces in
whose virtual space human realities are recreated and
the participants are reoriented and reinforced in their
everyday capacities.
The second essay, “Otherwise than Meaning. On the
Generosity of Ritual” by Don Seeman, adds a further
theoretical consideration. The essay is an anthropolog-
ical reflection about suffering, referring to thoughts of
E. Levinas and C. Geertz. Suffering is both present in
the consciousness of the sufferer and yet resistant to
consciousness as such. Producing meaning of suffering
does not answer the question of the efficacy of ritual.
The practice of the healer tries also to alleviate some
real pain. Pain invokes alterity, an experience of oth-
erness. The suffering person feels different to himself.
The ritual creates the possibility to present suffering
in a meaningful way, enabling its justification and en-
durance. It brings rather an opportunity than a readiness
to respond.
After these two theoretical contributions follow sev-
en, more aspectual, essays. In “The Red and the Black.
A Practical Experiment for Thinking about Ritual”
M. Housemen presents his experience with ritual show-
ing that the efficacy of ritual depends neither on the
substantial symbolism of ritual, nor on its pragmatic
consequences, nor on its performative qualities, but on
the enactment of the special relationships its perfor-
mance implies. He argues that the “successful ritual
performance seems to rely less upon a convergence
of the participants’ dispositions and motivations than
upon the systemic coordination of their overt actions
in accordance with these outward relational patterns”
(91). In “Partial Discontinuity. The Mark of Ritual”
A. Iteanu raises the question of how ritual can be dis-
tinguished from other activities. He states that in some
societies every activity is a ritual to a certain extent.
Taking two examples from Melanesia, the Maori hau
and the exchange by Orokaiva, he shows the partial
discontinuity that transforms horizontal equivalence in
relationships among persons into vertical relationships
between spirits and humans. “Religious Weeping as
Ritual in the Medieval West” by P. Nagy considers
the intimacy of ritual, analyzing a particular form of
an inner self-transformative process, medieval religious
weeping, which was a visible, bodily sign of sanctity,
but functioned as a ritual outside of any social control.
She argues that such a transformation process depended
on the way medieval people perceived their relation
to God, on the conception of the place of man in the
world, and on historical conditions including specif-
ic relations of institutions and persons. “Enjoying an
Emerging Alternative World. Ritual in Its Own Ludic
Right” by A. Droogers analyzes the initiation ritual for
boys among the Wagenia (Congo). The author shows
the emergence of ludic behavior in the practice of
the rite has a positive effect generating an alternative,
Anthropos 101.2006
618
Rezensionen
playful reality. It is especially true at times when the
normal reality undergoes some crisis or tensions that
are not served by the common practices. According to
Droogers the study of the ludic aspect of ritual can help
to understand the way by which ritual acts in its own
right. In “Bringing the Soul Back to the Self. Soul Re-
trieval in Neo-Shamanism” G. Lindquist studies healing
rituals affirming that somatization of transformations in
consciousness is an integral part of these rituals. To
understand the neo-shamanistic practice she has recourse
to the theory of soul loss and soul retrieval. During the
ritual, the shaman searches for the lost part, trying to
persuade it to rejoin the self of the patient. The force of
the shaman’s conscious intentionality is directed to this
part of the patient’s self that remains passive in order to
bring it the strength to act. In “Treating the Sick with
a Morality Play. The Kardecist-Spiritist Disobsession in
Brazil” S. M. Greenfield analyzes a healing ritual from
a Spiritist tradition. During the course of the ritual, the
participants enter a hypnotic state, internalize beliefs
about the powers of spirits, and undergo changes on a
somatic level which contribute to their cure. The author
uses universal properties of human biology and phys-
iology to argue that suggestion and light trance states
may activate bodily systems at the cellular level making
Kardecist ritual effective. The last essay “The Tacit
Logic of Ritual Embodiments. Rappaport and Polanyi
between Thick and Thin” by R. E. Innis represents a
philosophical contribution of the volume. The author
presents the major work of Roy Rappaport “Ritual and
Religion in the Making of Humanity” through a per-
spective derived from Michael Polanyi’s theory of tacit
knowing. He argues that the “primary purpose of the rit-
ual is to generate in the participant primarily perceptual
and affective wholes by eliciting the integration of sets
of subsidiarily attended from words, gestures, actions,
images, and spaces or places into a focus that is the
existential meaning of the religious experience” (206).
The multiplicity of case studies not only represents
a variety of ritual forms, but also testifies for their
complexity. Diverse approaches are applied to interpret
rituals. Most of the attempts to treat the ritual in its
own right converge on a transcendental reality, virtual or
linked to otherness. In this way the discussion joins the
fundamental questions of religion. But in their analysis
the authors neither attach explicitly the ritual to the
religious system nor stress excessively its social envi-
ronment. This deliberated procedure renders the book
original and inspiring. No doubt, it constitutes an im-
portant contribution to the study of ritual.
Jacek Jan Pawlik
Hannerz, Ulf: Soulside. Inquiries into Ghetto Cul-
ture and Community. Chicago: The University of Chica-
go Press, 2004. 246 pp. ISBN 0-226-31576-2. Price:
$ 16.00
“Soulside,” originally published in 1969, provides
“one anthropologist’s view” of what the author called
“Winston Street” in Washington, D.C. The street no
longer exists as it was; people continued to move in
and out of the neighborhood altering networks and re-
current personal encounters. But the problems Hannerz
described still exist in ghetto areas in the United States:
female household dominance; uneducated children hav-
ing children; a ghetto-related male role that includes
expression of toughness, sexual activity, and alcoholism
(now other drugs are present); low educational achieve-
ment; conflict-ridden relationships between the sexes;
social life beyond the domestic group; fluid household
composition; fear of trouble; suspiciousness toward oth-
er persons’ motives; interest in religion, specific foods,
and music; and a hostile view of much of white Amer-
ica. The term “soul” refers to black people’s essence
as shaped by their experience and expressed in their
everyday life. “Ghetto” encompasses slum and a “com-
munity” of ghetto dwellers.
In chapter 1, Hannerz provides the general context
and characteristics of the residents on Winston Street,
especially how they see themselves. Chapter 2 describes
the life style types that Hannerz calls mainstreamers,
swingers (not couples switching sex partners as the term
is used today), street families, and street comer men.
“Walking My Walk and Talking My Talk” (chapter 3)
delineates how life styles influence each other besides
influences that can lead an individual to assume a par-
ticular life style. Chapter 4 explores ghetto sex roles. In
Chapter 5, Hannerz discusses the ways in which street
corner men create a definition of manliness. Chapter 6
examines male sex role socialization in matrifocal fam-
ilies. “Things in Common” (chapter 7) such as institu-
tions, bootlegging, the numbers game, black religion, the
soul concept, and ghetto radio stations point to factors
that contribute to community integration. Chapter 8,
“Waiting for the Burning to Begin,” offers insight into
how ghetto dwellers consider their discontent with their
relations to the outside world, react to the prospects of
turmoil, and view the insurrection when it finally comes.
Chapter 9 is a theoretical discussion of the controversy
over the concept of a “culture of poverty” and other
explanations for ghetto life. An appendix describes how
Hannerz conducted his fieldwork.
What is the cause of the ghetto syndrome? The
controversial aspect of the culture of poverty concept
is the emphasis on culture as modes of behavior learned
within the community. The implication is that the poor
have only themselves to blame for their condition,
which in turn has implications for social policy. Hannerz
also talks about the notion of cultural deprivation and
structural constraints, namely, opportunities taken for
granted by the majority that have been blocked to the
poor, and therefore their behavior is often a realistic
adaptation.
Hannerz suggests that a reason for lack of response
to opportunities is that when people deviate from the
culture they share with their group, they lose the
group support. People may have to choose between the
peer group and greater opportunities. This reason turns
out to be a critical factor for young people as early
as elementary school (see Hanna, Disruptive School
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
619
Behavior. Class Race and Culture. New York 1988).
Oddly, Hannerz did not discuss formal schooling for
the youngsters on Winston Street.
A key impediment to social mobility is black stu-
dents’ fear of “acting white” as described by Signithia
Fordham and John Ogbu, “Black Students’ School Suc-
cess: Coping with the Burden of ‘Acting White’” (The
Urban Review 1986). Among African Americans the
high school dropout rate is now somewhere between 50
and 60 percent. Roland G. Fryer, in “ ‘Acting White’:
The Social Price Paid by the Best and Brightest Minor-
ity Students” (Education Next Winter 2006), reported
his research on a set of social interactions in which
minority adolescents who get good grades in school
enjoy less social popularity than white students who do
well academically. Some black adolescents ridicule their
minority peers for engaging in behaviors perceived to
be characteristic of Whites, such as speaking standard
English, getting good grades, enrolling in an Advanced
Placement or honors class, and wearing clothes from
specific stores. Fryer found that the ways schools are
structured affect the incidence of the harm of “act-
ing white.” It is most prevalent in racially integrated
public schools and less so in the private sector and
in predominantly black public schools. Fryer refers to
the phenomenon that Hannerz had noted on Winston
Street more than three decades ago: social groups seek
to preserve their identity in situations that threaten it.
If the group risks losing its most successful members
to outsiders, then the group will seek to prevent the
outflow.
In a 2004 address before Jesse Jackson’s 33rd An-
nual Rainbow/PUSH Coalition conference, Bob Cosby,
prominent black comedian and actor, created a hulla-
baloo in the black community when he blamed Blacks
for their own problems given the opportunities that have
opened to them - schools and businesses promoting
cultural diversity and set asides for minorities. He plead-
ed with Blacks to stop blaming the “White man” for
their problems and harshly criticized the current state
of African-American culture. He said, “What are they
[Whites] doing or trying to do to us that their grand-
fathers didn’t try to do to us? But what is different is
what we are doing to ourselves.”
Cosby ridiculed the poor grammar of some blacks:
“‘Why you ain’t,’ ‘Where you is’ ... and I blamed
the kid until I heard the mother talk.” Cosby hinted
that social welfare programs may be having unintended
consequences for African-Americans. To black people
who say Cosby is exposing the “dirty laundry” of the
black community, he said, “Your dirty laundry gets out
of school at 2:30 every day. It’s cursing and calling
each other ‘nigger’ as they’re walking up and down the
street. They think they hip - can’t read, can’t write -
50 percent of them.” Cosby stressed the importance of
education and proper parenting. “Eight-year-old, nine-
year-old boys have no business teaming up to rape a
nine-year or ten-year-old girl.” And he said if such
behavior is in the media, parents should keep it out of
the home. “Before you get to the point where you say,
T can’t do nothing with them,’ I am just saying, ‘Do
something with them’ ... your children have to know
where you came from ... about those people hanging
[during the civil rights struggles] and how when they did
hang them on a Sunday, the theme song was ‘Amazing
Grace.’” He condemned “the analgesic of cursing and
profanity and standing around and just letting the day
go by.” He berated men for beating up their women
because they didn’t get an education and find a job.
Cosby’s diagnostic comments dovetail with those of
Hannerz. Both commentators see lost opportunities, but
although Cosby points to black parent and community
responsibility, neither commentator offers a practical
intervention for positive change. For that, we must look
elsewhere. Judith Lynne Hanna
Hayden, Brian: Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints. A
Prehistory of Religion. Washington; Smithsonian Books,
2003. 468 pp. ISBN 1-58834-168-2. Price: $60.00
Brian Hayden, professor of archaeology at Simon
Fraser University, has chosen an ambitious subtitle for
his recent book. One might think it a grand boast to
attempt a prehistory of religion on a global scale from
the Palaeolithic to the present, but on closer inspection
the volume emerges as something attended by still
greater risk. As finally revealed in the author’s words
from his closing chapter, “one of the main goals of
this book is to help readers understand what religion
is and how to use it for their own personal benefit and
growth” (410). The resulting juxtaposition of academic
enquiry and spiritual journey makes for an uneasy ride,
bringing us an idiosyncratic work that is quite excellent
in parts, frustrating in others, often rather brave and at
times merely peculiar.
The architecture of the book is impressive in its
scope. Over the course of more than 400 pages and 13
chapters of extremely dense text (my guess is 8-point
type), Hayden takes us from the origins of our species
to the twenty-first century. The book moves through the
familiarly enigmatic material from the Lower Palaeolith-
ic to the painted caves of Europe, developing a feel for
the spiritual expression of hunter-gatherers on the way.
The transformations of the Neolithic are dealt with in
some depth, and then the author travels swiftly past the
Celtic and Germanic cultures to the early empires of
the West, before arriving at our own time via a detour
through the Judeo-Christian complex.
This work tries to occupy a big room. With such a
vast coverage there are inevitable problems of source
critique and general rather than specialist knowledge.
By the same token a volume of this kind is hard to
summarise, so we will be forced here to look at the
larger picture and then to delve into selected portions of
the discussion.
Hayden’s central thesis is that the spiritual experi-
ences of the world can be divided into “book” reli-
gions and “traditional” religions, equating respectively
to state-based control systems and frequently ecstatic in-
terpersonal networks of indigenous knowledge (though
Anthropos 101.2006
620
Rezensionen
this is to treat his arguments with unfair brevity). The
book focuses decisively on the traditional religions, es-
pecially in their ecological setting, and here shamanism
is a recurring theme, as one might expect. On this huge
canvas, Hayden argues for a gradually developing em-
phasis on shamanism throughout the Palaeolithic, with
an important role played by rites centring on animals.
This is combined with an increasing element of social
hierarchy in religious expression, and the rise of fertility
rituals with the transition to a predominantly agricultural
economy. With a special emphasis on what he sees
as a kind of Indo-European mind-set, from the Bronze
Age and Iron Age onwards Hayden argues for the slow
usurpation of sacral power by elites and the growth
of secular control over spiritual affairs that ultimately
culminates in the world faiths of the last two thousand
years.
I think it has to be said that little of this is new.
One must ask, for example, how different these ideas
really are from the classic “hunting magic” hypothesis
for Palaeolithic parietal art, and even the vegetation
cults so beloved of Frazer, mixed in with the Great
Goddess and perhaps a little Jean Auel. The Eurocentric
rise of the elites similarly mirrors the popular idea of
state religion as a kind of fall from a primal earthly
paradise. In the light of all this one also wonders what
the book offers to its apparent target audience that a
classic popular science work such as Campbell’s “The
Way of the Animal Powers” (San Francisco 1983) does
not. Campbell’s publication is even more profusely
illustrated, and indeed several of its images have been
borrowed by Hayden who also quotes him frequently.
This is perhaps unkind but there are more serious
faults. Not the least of these is the curious geographical
bias that becomes more apparent the later we move in
time. There is a clear emphasis on Europe from the
Neolithic onwards, Africa is largely absent once we have
got past the “dawn of humankind,” while Meso America
and South America hardly get a look in.
Perhaps the most worrying, and also disappointing,
aspect of the book is its preference for monolithic ex-
planations. Thus, we see the “development” of religion
in a clear sequence, reminiscent of the evolutionary
theory currently enjoying a revival. Ironically, this is to
obscure the very variety, the fascinating inconsistency
that characterises many of the “traditional” spiritualities
that Hayden pursues. Although making it admirably
clear that he has an open mind on spiritual matters
and their verity, at the same time the author seems
unaware of just how complicated it is to write of “a real
supernatural insight” (42) in a book of this kind without
delving deeper into exactly what he means. Hayden
in fact offers surprisingly little real definition of the
“religion” for which he claims to provide a prehistory,
despite a wealth of recent work in this area. At the same
time in his presentation of ecstatic cults and shamanism
he curiously tries to impose structure on that which is
anything but orthodox (at least at the generalising level
at which the book operates, despite the variation noted
in his chapter 5).
Eclectic data selection has also clearly been a prob-
lem, and we find some omissions that go beyond mere
carping - for no work of this kind could hope to be
truly comprehensive - to enter the realm of worrying
oversight. Given the vitriol that the debate has attracted,
I suppose it is almost refreshing to see the archaeology
of shamanism discussed with hardly any reference to the
recent discussions on rock art, but here it feels more a
case of ignorance or haste rather than choice.
Despite this, the breadth of Hayden’s research, and
evidently also his travels, is remarkable. The book does
present a coherent argument, illustrated with as wide a
range of crosscultural examples as I have come across,
pitched at a level that will appeal to a broad readership.
The book also tries to define the concept of the “sacred”
in universal terms of access, applicable equally to your
favourite poem or to the revealed God. This is a brave
move, and one that is I think to be applauded, though it
perhaps owes more to the postprocessualist canon than
the author acknowledges.
This brings me to the central contradiction of the
book mentioned above, which proves to be simultane-
ously its greatest strength and weakness. Although much
of the volume indeed attempts to set out a prehistory
of religion, there is a world of difference between this
and seeking to guide an audience into spiritual engage-
ment. One might ask whether the two objectives are
remotely compatible, a question thrown into stark focus
by a simple comparison of the opening and concluding
chapters. Early in the book, Hayden examines the na-
ture of traditional religions and hunter-gatherer beliefs,
with impressive archaeological detail; his final chapter
includes a guide to evaluating modem cults should you
be considering joining one (408 f.).
This rather queasy balance persists throughout the
book and takes on a further, autobiographical tone. Thus,
we are repeatedly offered a distinctly partial blend of
other scholars’ explanations for religious or spiritual
phenomena such as shamanism, to be finally presented
with the author’s own views in the form of “but it
seems to me that.” Repetitions jar on the eye, as we
are constantly told how “I found that [when visiting
sacred place X or traditional culture Y]” and that “in my
estimation [having been confronted with belief system
Z].” The cumulative effect is remarkably like the earnest
persuasion of a true believer, for whom information
related from personal experience is the only basis for
genuine communication. In some sense this is a method
to respect, and our literature might benefit from more
scholars willing to put as much of themselves in their
work as Brian Hayden has done. However, the technique
is not new and has been brought off better before on all
sides of the theoretical debate - B inford, Hodder, and
Tilley being obvious examples.
There are numerous curiosities, some of which imply
rather unusual perspectives on the part of the author.
Thus, the Bronze Age figure carved into the chalk of
White Horse Hill at Uffington in southern England is
described as the work of “Indo-Europeans” (299), which
is rather like saying that the Aztecs were anatomically
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
621
modem humans - undoubtedly true but an odd thing to
mention. The book is also dotted with text boxes that
take us on small but strangely haphazard digressions,
often fascinating and sometimes puzzling. There is an
emphasis on playful experimentation that may not be to
everyone’s taste but which does not feel misplaced in
this context - one example is the short essay on how
to talk to trees (55 ff.; the upshot is apparently that you
give them some fertilizer and then lie underneath them
for half an hour, relaxing your mind and “looking up
at the three dimensional fractal mandala created by the
interarching branches”).
So, a prehistory of religion? Undoubtedly, of sorts,
but a highly individual one. In focussing on some of its
oddities in the latter part of this review, I may have given
the impression that this is a fringe book of some kind,
on the cusp of New Age wisdom. It is not. Brian Hayden
has written a serious meditation on the nature of human
spirituality, including his own, reflecting on the immense
time-depth of past lives and their aspirations. At the
heart of the work is the way in which these are held
in tension with what are almost certainly similar needs
today, finding expression in what is often perceived
as social anachronism. Does the book succeed? On its
own terms, yes, I suspect it does, though the author’s
frame of reference might be a long way from that of
the “average” archaeologist of religion, if such a thing
exists. The only works that come close to it in terms of
combined personal revelation and intellectual enquiry
are probably Tim Taylor’s “The Buried Soul” (London
2002) and Julian Cope’s “The Modem Antiquarian”
(London 1998), very different though they are from each
other. Like those volumes this is a book that should
be read by everyone professionally concerned with the
ancient mind. Often provocative, always stimulating,
this work is an intelligent challenge and all the more
interesting for that.
The book is impeccably produced and superbly
illustrated as one would expect from the Smithsonian,
and is reasonably priced given its length and quality.
Neil S. Price
Henare, Amiria J. M.: Museums, Anthropology,
and Imperial Exchange. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 2005. 323 pp. ISBN 0-521-83591-7. Price:
€48.00
Die bewusst etwas verzerrte Karte am Beginn des
Buches stellt visuell das Thema dieser Arbeit vor:
Schottland und Neuseeland rahmen ein verkleinertes
Europa/Afrika/Asien ein. Henare stellt die Verbindun-
gen zwischen diesen so entlegenen Gegenden im Laufe
der letzten vier Jahrhunderte her, entwirft eine umfas-
sende historische Ethnographie, gleichzeitig aber auch
eine Geschichte der ethnographischen Museen in beiden
Ländern. Ihr besonderes Augenmerk ist dabei auf die
Betrachtung der Objekte gerichtet. Sie gibt wesentliche
neue Ansätze des Diskurses über Objekte in den Museen
heute, so dass ihr Buch weit über den Kreis der an
Neuseeland oder Ozeanien Interessierten eine Leser-
schaft finden wird. Für ihre Untersuchung hat sie über
hundert Museen in beiden Regionen besucht. Das in
neun Kapitel gegliederte Werk folgt einer chronologi-
schen Ordnung, andererseits aber auch dem Weg der
Auswandemng von Schottland nach Neuseeland, und
ihre eigene Reise zurück nach Schottland zur Forschung
an Maori-Gegenständen in dortigen Museen ist als
Teil dieses Beziehungsnetzes zu sehen. Zusammen mit
Maureen Lander, einer der bekanntesten zeitgenössi-
schen Maori-Künstlerinnen, die u. a. wunderbare filigra-
ne Installationen mit Fasern geschaffen hat, besuchte sie
in den genannten Gebieten die Museen und untersuch-
te Textilien und ihre Geschichte. Lander hat sie auch
in die Technik der Fadenspiele eingeführt, ebenso wie
Hinemoa Harrison in die Technik der Maori-“Weberei”.
Obgleich sie es nicht so bezeichnet, ist es die Methode
der so oft geübten Teilnehmenden Beobachtung, die
jedoch bei Henare einen anderen Stellenwert erhält. So
wird “thinking through things” ein methodischer Aspekt
des roten Fadens durch ihre historische Ethnographie
und nicht allein das Reden über die Dinge. Ein anderes
Grundmotiv ihrer Arbeit bildet die Gegenüberstellung
von Objekt und Text, gleichsam zwei Pole, zwischen
denen die Fragestellungen, Untersuchungen, Sammlun-
gen und Ausstellungen positioniert sind.
Ein nicht nur formales Element ihrer Textgestaltung
sind die sehr persönlichen Erlebnisberichte, die anfangs
etwas irritierend wirken, aber bei fortschreitendem Le-
sen immer mehr ihren Sinn verdeutlichen und sicher
mehr sind als nur eine Anlehnung an postmoderne
Moden. In diesen Berichten werden die persönlichen
Beziehungen zu Gegenständen verdeutlicht, und damit
wird das dritte große Thema des Werkes angesprochen,
Tausch oder auch Gabe von Gegenständen zwischen
Maori, Entdeckern, Sammlern, Auswanderern und Mu-
seen. Eine zentrale Rolle bilden darin die Ausführungen
von Marcel Mauss zur Gabe, die teilweise ja auf Eth-
nographien über den Gabentausch bei Maori aufbauen.
Die Forschungsarbeit an den Objekten verbindet nach
Henare auf ähnliche Weise eine Reihe von Personen
in Vergangenheit und Gegenwart. Unter Maori heute
wird diese Behandlung der Gegenstände oft mit dem
Ausdruck “to keep them warm” (gemeint die Objekte)
belegt, eine Formulierung, die ebenfalls anfangs irritiert,
aber zu weiterem Nachdenken anregt.
Henare beginnt ihre Darstellung mit den Reisen und
der Sammeltätigkeit von James Cook und seinen Leuten
in Neuseeland, wobei sie keine neuen Inhalte beibringt,
insgesamt betont sie zu sehr die Bedeutung der Ge-
genstände (artefacts) in diesen frühen Kontakten, waren
es doch anfangs vor allem Wasser und Nahrung, die von
den Europäern verlangt wurden. Auch die anschließende
kurze Übersicht der Verteilung der Cook-Sammlungen
vor allem in Großbritannien gibt keine neuen Gesichts-
punkte. Erst im dritten Kapitel beginnt das Beziehungs-
netz Schottland/Neuseeland dichter geflochten zu wer-
den: Es ist hier vor allem Sir Joseph Banks, berühmt
geworden durch seine Teilnahme an der ersten Rei-
se von Cook, den Henare mit seinen anschließenden
Schottland-Reisen beschreibt und hier das Motiv ei-
Anthropos 101.2006
622
Rezensionen
ner Parallele zwischen dem unwegsamen Hochland und
Neuseeland erstmals skizziert. Banks selbst hat diesen
Vergleich gezogen und gilt heute als ein Mittelsmann in
dem Verbreiten von Wissen zu seiner Zeit, wozu er vor
allem seine gesammelten Gegenstände einsetzte. Objek-
te wurden hier nach Henare zu Produzenten von Wissen.
Zahlreiche gelehrte Gesellschaften entstanden und die
ersten öffentlichen Museen wurden gegründet. Henare
sieht diese neue Betonung auf Sammeln und empiri-
scher Untersuchung als eine Reaktion auf das bisherige
Jahrhunderte andauernde Beharren auf der Suprematie
von Texten in der europäischen Tradition (65).
Die ökonomischen Veränderungen vor allem im
Hochland von Schottland im 18. Jh. werden von Henare
als Präzedenzfall gesehen zu den späteren Aktivitäten
in Neuseeland. Es folgt dann eine sehr detaillierte und
kenntnisreiche Darstellung der frühen Kontakte zwi-
schen Maori und Europäern nach den Reisen von Cook,
bei denen von ihr immer wieder die Bedeutung einzelner
Objekte hervorgehoben wird. Gegenstände waren oft
Teil der Landtransaktionen (102). Besonders ausführ-
lich geht sie auch auf die Rolle von neuseeländischem
Flachs in dieser Zeit ein. So entführten die Briten zwei
Maori, die später ihre Unkenntnis eingestehen mussten,
da die Flachsarbeit ja von Frauen ausgeführt wurde. Von
Missionaren hingegen wurden Objekte mit dem Ziel der
Geldsammlung erworben. Gerade Anfang des 19. Jhs.
war die evangelische Missionstätigkeit sehr stark, was
indirekt durch die negative Sicht auf die Maori als
einer “erbarmungswürdigen” Gesellschaft zu einer Ge-
ringschätzung ihrer Kunst geführt haben soll. Somit
wäre die Höherschätzung “primitiver” Kunst am Aus-
gang des Jahrhunderts auch mit einem Nachlassen des
Kircheneinflusses zu verknüpfen.
Im fünften Kapitel begegnen wir den Objekten der
schottischen Einwanderer in Neuseeland. Inzwischen
war Neuseeland Bestandteil des britischen Imperiums
geworden. Doch die zahlreichen Museen in Neuseeland
stellen nicht die Veränderungen in dieser stark von ge-
genseitiger Abhängigkeit geprägten Gesellschaft Neu-
seelands in den ersten Jahrzehnten des 19. Jhs. dar, son-
dern die in ihren Herkunftsgebieten. Im Mittelpunkt der
dann folgenden Beschreibung des berühmten Vertrages
von Waitangi steht das Verständnis von zwei Tausch-
formen zwischen den Weißen und den Maori: erstens
tuku, eine Gabe mit der Erwartung einer andauernden
Verbindung mit eventueller Rückgabe, und zweitens
hoko, eine einfachere Form des Tausches. Immer wieder
bezieht sich Henare auf diese Unterscheidung. Auch
hier liegt die Stärke ihrer Ausführungen darin, dass sie
einzelne Gegenstände herausgreift, sie einem schotti-
schen Migranten zuweist und diesen in den Kontext der
Migration stellt. Insgesamt liest sich die Abhandlung
an dieser Stelle wie eine Geschichte Neuseelands im
19. Jh. Wie in Schottland kommt es auch hier zu sehr
frühen Gründungen von Museen, die erste schon 1842.
Zu diesem Zeitpunkt war in Berlin das erste öffentliche
Museum gerade zwölf Jahre alt. Ob allerdings die frühen
Siedler von den angelegten Sammlungen wirklich lernen
konnten, wie Henare suggeriert, erscheint mir fraglich.
Im Folgenden gibt sie kurze biographische Angaben zu
den wichtigsten Figuren aus dieser Zeit wie z. B. George
Grey, der einen humanitären Impuls mit imperialem
Eifer verband, einer der frühen Anwender von Ethnolo-
gie zu kolonialadministrativen Zwecken. Doch manche
Maori scheinen ihn heute durchaus kritischer zu sehen
als Henare. Auch Grey erhielt zahlreiche Ethnographica
in der Form eines tuku-Tausches. Danach behandelt die
Autorin die Weltausstellung von 1851 in London und
die Gründung weiterer Museen in Schottland und in
Neuseeland. In einer der Beschreibungen einer heutigen
Ausstellung über Maori kritisiert Henare zu Recht, dass
der Kontext von Gegenständen aus dem 19. Jh. nicht
erwähnt wird, statt dessen die Objekte in einem zeitlosen
Rahmen präsentiert sind (172).
Im siebten Kapitel beschreibt Henare den sehr früh
im 19. Jh. beginnenden Tourismus in Neuseeland, nach-
dem die so genannten Maori-Kriege beendet waren. Hier
sehen wir auch die historisch belegten Anfänge einer
“invention of tradition”, deren ambivalente Auswirkun-
gen Henare deutlich hervorhebt. Gefördert durch den
Tourismus erlebte die Kultur der Maori eine Phase des
Wandels, aber auch der Kreativität, deren Schöpfungen
heute oft als authentisch angesehen, jedoch infolge der
Diskussion und Forschung um die Frage der “invention
of tradition” auch dazu benutzt werden können, Anstren-
gungen um eine indigene Autonomie zu untergraben.
Besonders die letzten beiden Kapitel gehen nochmals
im Detail auf die Gegenüberstellung von “Ding” und
“Wort” ein, es folgt eine Darstellung der Geschichte
der Ethnologie, fokussiert auf Großbritannien. Nochmals
wird deutlich, wie die Museen mit der Untersuchung
des Objektes eine bedeutende Rolle gespielt, die sie
in der fortan zunehmenden Hinwendung zu “Sprache”
immer mehr verloren haben. Den Abschluss bildet eine
kritische Auseinandersetzung mit dem neuen National-
museum in Wellington, Te Papa Tongarewa.
Das Buch entwirft eine neue Ethnographie der Dinge,
Objekte sind nicht mehr nur Teile einer Gesellschaft,
denn sie sind verwoben in eine komplizierte Geschichte
der gegenseitigen Beziehungen unterschiedlicher Kultu-
ren. Damit erhalten die auch so oft geäußerten Rück-
gabeforderungen einen anderen Aspekt. Henare breitet
eine Fülle an Informationen zur Museumsgeschichte
aus, die sie in eine weit gefächerte Ideengeschichte ein-
bettet. Daher bietet das Werk nicht nur Ozeanisten, son-
dern auch an der Geschichte des Faches Interessierten
eine Menge an Anregungen für die eigene Arbeit.
Markus Schindlbeck
Hildebrand, Milton, und George E. Goslow: Ver-
gleichende und funktionelle Anatomie der Wirbeltie-
re. Berlin: Springer-Verlag, 2004. 709 pp. ISBN 3-540-
00757-1. Preis: €59.95
Nachdem der “Hildebrand” schon in der 5. Auflage
erschienen ist, liegt er nun auch in deutscher Über-
setzung vor, was äußerst begrüßenswert ist, da Stu-
dierende der Biologie Englisch als Lingua franca nur
begrenzt annehmen, wie jeder Lehrende weiß. Da das
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
623
bisherige Standardwerk von Alfred S. Römer (später
Römer and Parsons) und die unerschwinglich teure,
aber brillante dreibändige “Vergleichende Anatomie der
Wirbeltiere auf evolutionsbiologischer Grundlage” von
Dietrich Starck nicht mehr auf dem Büchermarkt sind,
soll der vorliegende Band diese Lücke schließen und
noch dazu zu einem angemessenen Preis. Der Band rich-
tet sich an Studierende des Hauptstudiums und vermittelt
zunächst eine grundlegende Übersicht der Morphologie
der Vertebraten und der Evolutionsmechanismen, wobei
die sehr kursorische Darstellung für Fortgeschrittene
nur als basales Kompendium und wenig differenziert
zu werten ist. Der weitere Inhalt gliedert sich in drei
Haupteile mit insgesamt 31 Hauptkapiteln.
Teil I liefert eine “Übersicht über die Vertebraten”
und kennzeichnet die hauptsächlichen morphologischen
Muster. Nach einem kurzen forschungsgeschichtlichen
Abriss wird begründet, warum an der traditionellen
Systematik festgehalten wird und nicht die kladistische
oder phylogenetische Systematik gewählt wurde (sehr
überzeugend sind die Argumente - der Autoren sowie
der Übersetzerin - nicht); danach folgt eine Kurzbe-
schreibung der Vertebraten, geordnet nach Klassen und
Unterklassen. Eingefügt sind sehr lesenswerte Exkurse,
z. B. über das Problem der Benennung von Schwes-
tergruppen oder die Evolution des Vogelflugs (Federn
fliegen - über die Entstehung der Vögel).
Teil II behandelt die “Phylogenie und Ontogenie von
Strukturen”. Der etwas holprige Untertitel “Evolution in
Bezug auf die Zeit und die Haupttaxa” gibt weiteren
Aufschluss: Es geht um die frühe Entwicklung (u. a.
Embryologie, Reproduktionsbiologie, frühe Ontogene-
se), um das Integument und seine Derivate mit Exkursen
über das Knochengewebe, ferner um den Ursprung kom-
plexer Schuppen und Panzer sowie Kontroversen zur
Entstehung von Federn. Weitere Hauptkapitel behandeln
die Zähne, das Kopfskelett, das Körperskelett sowie
Muskeln und elektrische Organe. Schließlich werden
das Coelom und die Mesenterien, das Verdauungssystem
sowie das Atmungssystem und die Schwimmblase, das
Kreislaufsystem, das Exkretionssystem und die Osmore-
gulation behandelt. Die Darstellung des Fortpflanzungs-
systems und der Ausführgänge des Urogenitalsystems,
des Nervensystems und der Sinnesorgane sowie der en-
dokrinen Drüsen bilden den Abschluss dieses umfassen-
den mittleren Teiles, der überwiegend klar und verständ-
lich die Formen und Funktionen kennzeichnet, wobei
tnan aber bisweilen farbige Abbildungen vermisst, die
die Übersicht erheblich erleichtert hätten. Insgesamt ei-
ne solide Abhandlung, aber entgegen der Versprechung
kein kurzweiliger Lesestoff.
In Teil III geht es um strukturelle Adaptationen und
die Vertebratenevolution in Verbindung zu Lebensweise
und Habitat. Dieser Abschnitt behandelt die Funktions-,
Konstruktions- und Evolutionsmorphologie und hat das
offensichtlich eigenständigste Profil des Lehrbuchs. Tie-
re werden als Spezialisten vorgestellt und ihre vielfälti-
gen Anpassungen anschaulich erklärt, indem zunächst
auf die Strukturelemente des Körpers eingegangen wird,
Und dann die Mechanik von Stützung und Bewegung
mit nur so viel Biophysik wie gerade nötig beschrie-
ben wird. Weitere Kapitel behandeln Form, Funktion
und Körpergröße, wobei das Kapitel Allometrie etwas
sehr kurz ausgefallen ist. Die Abhandlung der Loko-
motionsformen wie Rennen und Springen, Graben und
Kriechen ohne Extremitäten, Klettern, Schwimmen und
Tauchen sowie Fliegen und Gleiten sind, und das spürt
der Leser, nicht nur Pflicht, sondern Kür. Gleiches gilt
für die grundlegenden Zusammenhänge zwischen Ener-
getik und Fortbewegung sowie den Beitrag über die
Nahrungsaufnahme mit den aufschlussreichen Kapiteln
über das Intervall-Filtrieren, sturztauchende Vögel und
deren Computerprogramme und die Antwort auf das
paläontologische Problem, was die Säbelzahnkatzen mit
ihren messerartigen Fangzähnen gemacht haben.
Im Appendix geht es um viele nützliche Hinweise
zur anatomischen Präparation, und es folgt ein um-
fangreiches Glossar mit 500 Fachbegriffen, jedoch ohne
etymologische Begriffsdefinition und bisweilen etwas
oberflächlich; z. B. Adaptation ist Eigenschaft oder
Merkmal sowie Prozess; Symplesiomorphie wird er-
klärt, aber nicht Synapomorphie. Das den stattlichen
Band abschließende reichhaltige Register macht für den
Leser einen schnellen Einstieg zu dem vielfältigen In-
halt möglich, was insofern von Vorteil ist, als heutige
Studierende der Zoologie nicht mehr mit allen hier vor-
gestellten Inhalten während des Studiums konfrontiert
werden. Wenn man die Begründung der Autoren liest,
warum man die Morphologie der Vertebraten überhaupt
untersuchen soll, so leuchtet durchaus ein, dass es darum
geht, die strukturelle Basis der Biologie zu verstehen, die
organismische Evolution zu begreifen, eine Übersicht
über das Leben in Raum und Zeit zu gewinnen und
die Komplexität und Leistungsfähigkeit des tierischen
Körpers zu erklären. Auch der Aspekt “die menschliche
Gesundheit und die Technologie zu fördern” (z. B. via
Bionik) ist nachvollziehbar, aber die Begründung, “um
nach Anerkennung und Inspiration zu streben”, da der
Respekt vor der biologischen Form und die persönliche
Motivation zum Studieren zwar nicht gemessen werden
können, aber sehr lohnend seien, wirkt seltsam abgeho-
ben, wie auch die Aussage im Vorwort, dass “die orga-
nismische Evolution eine der großartigsten Geschichten
ist, welche die Biologie zu erzählen weiß” (vii). Mit die-
ser Formulierung kann man als Biologe nicht konform
gehen, denn die Biologie ist keine narrative Disziplin,
keine Naturgeschichte mehr, sondern es geht um die
Entschlüsselung der Ordnung des Lebendigen; sie ist
das ursprüngliche Ziel der Biologie.
Dass ein Standardlehrbuch neben neuen Forschungs-
befunden auch “klassische Geschichten, die auch immer
neuen Generationen von Studierenden erzählt werden
sollten” (vii) enthält, kennzeichnet den speziellen Stil
des vorliegenden Bandes. Die Faszination für die eigene
Disziplin zu vermitteln, gelingt nicht durchgehend -
aber vielleicht erreicht der Band diejenigen, die für die
Morphologie “präadaptiert” sind, oder in den Worten
der Autoren: “Die wenigen Studierenden, die Vorhaben,
berufsmäßige Morphologen zu werden, werden hoffent-
lich motiviert, weiterführende Information zu suchen”
Anthropos 101.2006
624
Rezensionen
(viii). Als breiter Einstieg mit zahlreichen höchst auf-
schlussreichen Schwerpunktsetzungen ist der Band, der
bei einem weiteren Neudruck sowohl sprachlich als auch
hinsichtlich einiger Abbildungen und vornehmlich Ab-
bildungsbeschriftungen (z. B. einheitlich Termini oder
Trivialbezeichnungen) optimiert werden könnte, jedem
Studierenden der Zoologie zu empfehlen und kann auch
den angehenden Anthropologen/Humanbiologen nach-
drücklich empfohlen werden. Winfried Henke
Hoek, A. W. van den: Caturmasa. Celebrations of
Death in Kathmandu, Nepal. Ed. by J. C. Heesterman et
al. Leiden: CNWS Publications, 2004. 188 pp. ISBN 90-
5789-098-4. (CNWS Publications, 133) Price: €20.00
The untimely death of the author, the Dutch an-
thropologist and Indologist Albertus Wilhelmus van den
Hoek (b. 1951), after a road accident in India in 2001,
lends poignancy to the title of this posthumous, decep-
tively modest volume, published by his colleagues in
Leiden and Kathmandu. “Deceptively” because in spite
of its unassuming appearance (188 pages, softcover,
black and white photos only), it is an important and
well-researched contribution to the study of the religion
of the Kathmandu Valley, a field of study to which
the author from around 1990 had decided to devote all
his energy and in which he had already published a
considerable number of substantial contributions.
Although the chapters in this book - intended by the
author to be elements in an ambitious study of the entire
range of Newar rituals - can be read as independent
articles, they, in fact, form a closely-knit whole. They all
deal with ritual space and ritual time in Newar religion
(mainly in its Hindu form) in the urban culture of the
Kathmandu Valley. The first chapter, “Kathmandu as a
Sacrificial Arena,” does not build upon the perception of
sacred space as forming a mandala defined by a grid of
sacred spots, but takes as its basic premise the fact that
Kathmandu is divided into an Upper and a Lower part.
“The unity of the city and the realm is not brought about
by a fixed monolithic arrangement, but by a continuous
movement that connects the parts with the whole, or
by which the parts make up the whole. The principal
division in this regard is that between Thane and Kvane,
the Upper and Lower part of the city” (7). The two
parts constitute a dichotomy, a battlefield in ritual form
inside the city. This battlefield is a sacrificial arena the
ultimate function of which is to allow the inner tensions
of society to be resolved in the course of a series of
rituals spanning the period of four months from the
middle of the rainy season till the end of the Nepalese
year (July-November). These rituals are dealt with one
by one in the following chapters, often in considerable
and fascinating detail.
In their “Concluding Remarks,” J. C. Heesterman
and Sj.M. Zanen point out that “these festivals are
basically sacrificial feasts. Apart from formal sacrifices
forming part of the successive festivals the underlying
notion appears in various ways to be that of sacrifice,
more specifically of sacrificial death. Generally speak-
ing, sacrifice is the way to deal with - as different
from solving - the riddle of life and death. Significantly,
in the Vedic ritual texts cremation is viewed as man’s
ultimate sacrifice (antyesti). If the dominant feature of
the festivals is the procession (ydtrd), it should be re-
called that sacrifice is not the static event, not passing
beyond the narrowly circumscribed sacrificial area we
know from the late Vedic srauta ritual; it is essentially
a process involving ample spatial movement of which
the otherwise static Vedic sacrifice still shows telling
traces” (135).
Although his attention is chiefly focused on the actual
rituals observed by himself, van den Hoek occasionally
highlights lines of continuity linking the Newar present
with the remote Vedic past, especially as understood
through the brilliant analyses of J. C. Heesterman. “In
the concluding paragraph of the chapter on the dying
gods we already saw that the mystery play of the divine
dancers alluded to the secret of life and death and
finally led to the conclusion that Death is the divinity
in man. Heesterman reaches a similar conclusion on
quite different (textual) grounds where he analyses the
victory of the Lord of Life, Prajapati over Mrtyu, Death.
Prajapati’s victory, however, does not eliminate Death,
who is on the one hand assimilated by his conquerer
as part of himself but on the other hand remains a
separate entity who through a compact with the lord
of Life is entitled to the body of the deceased as his
share ... Death is the divinity in man and, in a seemingly
paradoxical way, the source of his immortality” (126 f.).
The usefulness of the book is increased by a Glossary
and an Index. There is also a list of the author’s
publications. Per Kvaeme
Holmes-Eber, Paula: Daughters of Tunis. Women,
Family, and Networks in a Muslim City. Boulder:
Westview Press, 2003. 166 pp. ISBN 0-8133-3944-8.
Price: $ 18.00.
Im Zentrum dieser Studie stehen vier Frauen und
ihre sozialen Netzwerke in der Hauptstadt Tunis. Es sind
Mütter mit unterschiedlicher sozialer Klassenzugehörig-
keit, die einer beruflichen Tätigkeit nachgehen, einen
Haushalt führen und in einer Großfamilie eingebettet
sind, die mehr oder minder dem traditionalen Muster
der patriarchalisch geordneten, patrilokalen tunesischen
Familie entspricht. Die amerikanische Anthropologin
Paula Holmes-Eber geht folgender Frage nach: Welche
sozialen und ökonomischen Vorteile können Frauen aus
der Tendenz zur Kemfamilie und der steigenden Frau-
enberufstätigkeit ziehen, ohne die gewohnten Normen
radikal in Frage zu stellen?
Ihre Studie basiert auf einer einjährigen Feldfor-
schung in Tunis, die vier unterschiedliche Stadtvier-
tel abdeckt: die medina (Altstadt); die neue Stadt, die
sich seit der französischen Kolonialzeit um die Altstadt
entwickelt hat; die neuen, preiswerteren Wohnviertel
und die vornehmen Vororte Carthage oder Salambo.
Ihre Forschungsmethoden waren sowohl quantitativer
als auch qualitativer Natur. Teilnehmende Beobachtung,
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
625
Interviews und Netzwerkanalyse werden ergänzt durch
Erhebungen zu Verwandtschafts-, Nachbarschafts- und
Freundschaftsnetzwerken mit zusätzlichen Befragungen
von Frauen, die nicht zu ihren Hauptinformantinnen
gehören, an den benachbarten Stränden von Tunis.
Die Studie gliedert sich in sieben Kapitel, wobei auf
die Forschungsmethoden lediglich in einem Appendix
knapp eingegangen wird. Das erste Kapitel bietet einen
historischen Überblick zur Situation der Frau in Tu-
nesien. Seit den Reformen der sechziger Jahre durch
den früheren Präsident Bourguiba, welcher das Tragen
des Schleiers verbot, die Polygamie abschaffte und das
Wahlrecht für Frauen einführte, gilt die Stellung der
tunesischen Frau in den Medien als besonders fort-
schrittliches Beispiel innerhalb der nordafrikanischen
muslimischen Gesellschaften.
Im zweiten Kapitel wendet sich die Autorin der
Frage nach Frauen- und Männerräumen zu, innerhalb
derer Frauen sich bewegen können; dabei hinterfragt sie
die Dichotomie “privat-öffentlich” und dekonstruiert
sie in einem ersten Schritt. Aus emischer Perspektive
entspricht der Raum “Haus” einem öffentlichen sozialen
Raum, innerhalb dessen Akteurlnnen regelmäßig Infor-
mationen austauschen. “Öffentlich” impliziert weiter-
hin, dass dieser Raum von vielen Feuten gleichzeitig
- Verwandten, Nachbarinnen oder Freundinnen - be-
setzt wird, und dass er dadurch keine individuelle Rück-
zugsmöglichkeit bietet. Im Faufe des Kapitels wird das
Konzept der Frauen- bzw. der Familienehre thematisiert.
Die Autorin kommt zu dem Schluss, dass die in der
mittelmeerethnologischen Fiteratur bis in die siebziger
Jahre gängigen Dichotomien Mann-Frau, öffentlich -
privat und Ehre-Schande nur in den “middle upper
classes” von neuen Vorstellungen z. T. abgelöst werden.
Sie bestätigt hiermit Studien über Frauen im Maghreb
aus den achtziger Jahren und stellt Folgendes fest: An
die Arbeit von Frauen bei der Regierung oder an Schulen
ist sozial anerkanntes Prestige gekoppelt, das diesen
Frauen die Erfahrungen von Mobilität und Sichtbarkeit
in der Öffentlichkeit einräumt.
Ihre Informantinnen aus bescheidenen Haushalten
behaupten in der Mehrzahl, “immer zu Hause zu blei-
ben”, weil es der traditionellen Geschlechtertrennung
entspricht, nach der es für den Mann schandhaft wäre,
müsste seine Frau für alle sichtbar ebenfalls zum Fe-
bensunterhalt beitragen. Die Anthropologin stellt fest,
dass dieser Diskurs über traditionelle Rollen- und Raum-
verteilung eine modellierbare Realität verschleiert: Für
die Frauen, die zu Hause arbeiten oder ihre verdienst-
bringenden sozialen Beziehungen zu Hause beherbergen
müssen, wird das Haus zum öffentlichen Raum, inner-
halb dessen soziale und ökonomische Handlungen sich
gegenseitig bedingen. Tatsächlich aber ist die Mehrzahl
ihrer Informantinnen eher mobil, ob sie in der Medina
°der in den neuen reichen Vierteln wohnen. Am Beispiel
der Befragten, die in preiswerten Mietshäusern wohnen,
wird wiederholt deutlich, wie variabel Definitionen über
Private und öffentliche Räumen sein können. In Wohn-
vierteln, die ihren Bewohnerinnen nah gelegene Ein-
haufsmöglichkeiten bieten, wird der Raum außerhalb
des Hauses als privat betrachtet, weil er den Frauen, die
ihn betreten, den physischen und emotionalen Schutz
der Nähe der Gebäude und der Nachbarinnen bietet -
das in arabischen Gesellschaften so gepriesene Konzept
der qaraba.
Kapitel drei, vier und fünf fokussieren auf die als
“lebensnotwendig” bezeichneten Tausch- und Hilfsnetz-
werke der Informantinnen. Die Autorin spricht mit ihren
Informantinnen von der “Besuchsarbeit”, welche diese
verheirateten Frauen tagtäglich leisten, um soziale Netz-
werke zu stabilisieren bzw. abzusichern, auf die bei
Bedarf zurückgegriffen wird. Dabei wird bestätigt, dass
der seit zwanzig Jahren andauernde Trend von der
Groß- zur Kemfamilie innerhalb der maghrebinischen
Großstädte einzelne Haushalte nicht isoliert. Nach der
Studie scheint die verstärkte Urbanisierung die traditio-
nal in einem Haushalt wohnende Großfamilie entweder
horizontal - in einem Viertel oder einer Straße -,
vertikal - auf mehreren Etagen in Mietshäusern -
oder transnational durch Migration zersplittert zu ha-
ben. Dieser Wandel spiegelt sich in den beobachteten
Netzwerken wider. Verheiratete Töchter pendeln von
ihrem Haushalt zu ihren Fitem, je nach Entfernung
jedes Wochenende oder jeden Monat. Der emotionale
und materielle Austausch zwischen Familienmitgliedern
wird lediglich zeitlich verteilt; umso intensiver wird er
für Familienmitglieder, die Arbeitsmigranten sind, weil
diese dann z. T. für mehrere Wochen zu Besuch bleiben
und ihre Familie mit Ressourcen aus dem europäischen
Ausland wie Kleidung, Schönheitsprodukten oder elek-
tronischen Geräten versorgen.
Kapitel vier und fünf bestätigen die Stabilität fami-
liärer Netzwerke im städtischen Kontext. Zwei Drittel
aller Netzwerkbeziehungen der befragten Frauen beste-
hen aus Verwandten. Die Autorin geht dabei von einem
westlichen Freundschaftsbegriff aus, der Freundinnen
nicht zu Verwandten werden lässt. Obwohl Urbanisie-
rung und berufliche Mobilität zunehmende Möglich-
keiten bieten, neue Freundinnen zu gewinnen, tre-
ten Freundschaftsnetzwerke nicht an Stelle der Fami-
liennetzwerke, sondern “ergänzen” sie lediglich. Re-
gelmäßige Interaktionen zwischen Männern und Frauen
außerhalb der Familie werden lediglich im akademi-
schen Milieu festgestellt. Diese Beschränkung führt die
Anthropologin auf den traditionellen moralischen Kodex
der Frauenehre zurück, welcher die Präsenz der Frau im
öffentlichen Raum ungern sieht. Auch wenn die Au-
torin davor die steife Dichotomie “private-öffentliche
Räume” dekonstruiert hat, greift sie dennoch auf sie
zurück, um dieses Ehrkonzept zu erklären. Der Fokus
auf Verwandtschaftsmuster schließt die Analyse von
Heiratsmustern mit ein: Im Kontext der Urbanisierung
und Mobilität kennzeichnen sich 84,6 % der Heirats-
praktiken durch sogenannten “regionale Endogamie”.
Dies entspricht dem verbreiteten Merkmal des Sommers
als Heiratssaison und der Tatsache, dass Migrantlnnen
ihre zukünftigen Partner über die üblichen Verwandt-
schaftsnetzwerke kennenlernen.
Kapitel sechs illustriert wie Nachbarschaftsbezie-
hungen unter Haushalten mit bescheidenem Einkom-
Anthropos 101.2006
626
Rezensionen
men z. B. bei Krankheitsfällen einem informellen Si-
cherheitssystem entsprechen. Dort tauschen Frauen re-
gelmässig und schnell Informationen und Ressourcen
aus. Vertraute Muster der Reziprozität sorgen dafür,
dass ein Verdienstausfall aufgefangen wird. Im vor-
letzten Kapitel wird die beim Thema Geschlechter-
interaktionen außerhalb der Familie und Familienehre
bereits eingeführte Variable “Bildung” wieder aufge-
griffen und in kausalen Zusammenhang mit Freund-
schaftsnetzwerken gebracht. Nach der Studie scheint der
Anteil der Freundschaftsbeziehungen zwischen Männern
und Frauen an ein höheres Bildungsniveau gekoppelt
zu sein.
Kapitel sieben streift den Bereich der Religion
bezüglich des Fastenmonats Ramadan und der damit
verbundenen gegenseitigen familiären und freundschaft-
lichen Besuche. Die soziale Dimension dieses Zeit-
raumes rückt Paula Holmes-Eber in den Vordergrund,
da er für die Stärkung der Netzwerke von besonderer
Relevanz ist.
Insgesamt reiht sich diese Studie in die Forschung
zu Frauen in muslimischen Gesellschaften des Mittel-
meerraumes ein, zentrales Thema ist das Handlungs-
potential der Akteurinnen im informellen Bereich des
Haushalts. Da die Forschung bereits 1987 durchgeführt
wurde (mit Ergänzungen aus dem Jahre 1993), ist es
schwierig, deren Ergebnisse für die aktuelle Diskussion
um Handlungspotentiale von Frauen in Verbindung mit
ökonomischen Aktivitäten in der tunesischen Haupt-
stadt einzuordnen. Die Studie hat einen komparativen
Anspruch; sie versucht, verschiedenen Alltagsperspek-
tiven gerecht zu werden, welche die These von der
Vielfältigkeit der Verortung von Frauennetzwerken il-
lustrieren sollen. Sie beschränkt sich deswegen nicht auf
eine bestimmte Schicht von Frauen, und stößt dadurch
auf widersprüchliche Erklärungsmuster für die (Nicht-)
Sichtbarkeit ihrer Informantinnen in der Öffentlichkeit.
Es mag ein Grund dafür sein, warum die Autorin
selbst nicht immer konsequent mit den von ihr teilweise
dekonstruierten Kategorien - z. B. öffentlich-privat -
arbeitet.
Aufgrund ihres beschreibenden Stiles und der Tage-
buchauszüge liest sich diese Studie leicht. Sie ist ideal
für Studierende, die noch nie in einer muslimischen
Gesellschaft waren, um Vorstellungen über Usus und
Pflichten des Alltags aus Frauensicht zu gewinnen.
Sie ist auch anregend dadurch, dass ihre mosaikarti-
gen Ergebnisse viele Fragen aufwerfen; Fahren Töchter
regelmäßig zu ihren Eltern aus ökonomischen oder
emotionalen Gründen? Wie groß oder gering ist dabei
der soziale Konformitätsdruck? Der Relativierung der
Assoziation der Frauen- bzw. Familienehre mit priva-
ten Räumen könnte entgegengehalten werden, dass die
Mobilität der Befragten innerhalb öffentlicher Räume
scheinbar an Familien- bzw. Freundschaftsmuster ge-
koppelt bleibt. Zu untersuchen bliebe noch, inwiefern
Frauen mit hohem oder geringerem Bildungsniveau in
muslimischen urbanen Kontexten öffentliche Räume be-
legen dürfen, ohne an Muster wie Familie, Freundschaft
oder Arbeit gebunden zu sein.
Insgesamt zählt diese Studie zu der relativ gerin-
gen Zahl aktueller anthropologischer Publikationen zu
Frauen in Tunesien. Sie ist ein Beispiel dafür, dass
der Maghreb ein reiches Feld für Datengewinnung über
Geschlechterverhältnisse und Verhandlungen zwischen
traditionalen und globalisierten Vorstellungen ist - nicht
zuletzt wegen seiner kolonialen und geographischen
Nähe zu Europa. Yamina Dir
Ireson-Dooiittle, Carol, and Geraldine Moreno-
Black: The Lao. Gender, Power, and Livelihood. Boul-
der; Westview Press, 2004. 194 pp. ISBN 0-8133-4063-
2. Price: € 18.50
Die beiden feministischen Frauenforscherinnen Carol
Ireson-Dooiittle (Willamette University) und Geraldine
Moreno-Black (University of Oregon) fokussieren in
ihrem Buch “The Lao. Gender, Power, and Livelihood”
die Auswirkungen der soziopolitischen und ökonomi-
schen Veränderungen in Laos im Zeitraum von 1975 —
1995 in Bezug auf die Machtverteilung zwischen Frauen
und Männern. Spezielles Augenmerk richten sie auf die
Bereiche der Produktion von Nahrung und Textilien,
das Führen von Haushalten und kleinen Familienunter-
nehmen sowie politische Aktivitäten von Frauen. Auch
die Auswirkungen von Entwicklungsprojekten werden
eingehend untersucht.
Die vier Hauptfragestellungen, welche die Forsche-
rinnen mittels eigener Feldforschung, Interviews und
Literaturstudien zu beantworten suchen, sind folgende:
1. Welche historischen Hintergründe und Muster für so-
ziale Beziehungen und die Situation von Frauen gibt es?
2. Welche Ungleichheiten zwischen den Geschlechtern
entstehen durch Veränderungen in sozialen Institutionen
und in der laotischen Kultur? 3. Wie wirken sich regio-
nale, nationale und globale Faktoren auf lokale Verände-
rungen der Situation von Frauen und Familien aus?
4. Welche Macht- und Kontrollinstrumente entwickeln
Frauen, um mit den Veränderungen in ihrer eigenen
Kultur und mit fremdkulturellen Einflüssen umgehen zu
können?
Im ersten Kapitel des Buches werden einige Aspekte
der laotischen Geschichte kurz beleuchtet, insbesondere
in Bezug auf das Geschlechterverhältnis und soziale
Veränderungen. Kapitel 2 behandelt den Alltag in länd-
lichen Gemeinden und die Rolle der “Lao Women’s
Union” im Leben laotischer Frauen. In den Kapiteln
3. 4 und 5 gehen die Autorinnen auf lebenspraktische
Bereiche von Frauen ein: Familie, Landwirtschaft, Tex-
tilproduktion und -Vermarktung. Lebensgeschichten von
Frauen illustrieren lebhaft, wie sich die sozialen, po-
litischen und wirtschaftlichen Veränderungen zwischen
1975 und 1995 auf die Alltags Wirklichkeit von Frauen
aus wirken. Außerdem wird auf die Rolle von Frauen in
religiösen Praktiken eingegangen. In Kapitel 5 wird der
Schwerpunkt nochmals auf die Aktivitäten von Frauen
in der Textilproduktion und -Vermarktung gelegt. Einige
von Frauen selbst initiierte und erfolgreich geleitete Ent-
wicklungsprojekte werden vorgestellt. Kapitel 6 schließ-
lich widmet sich einem speziellen Entwicklungsprojekt,
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
627
dem Luang Prabang Frauen-Entwicklungsprojekt, wel-
ches von Regierung und internationalen Organisationen
gefördert wird.
Im Ergebnis ihrer Untersuchung konstatieren die bei-
den Forscherinnen, dass Frauen in Laos nach 1975 eine
wesentlich aktivere Rolle in lokalen, regionalen und
nationalen politischen Institutionen übernommen haben,
zusätzlich zu den Rollen als Mutter, Hausfrau und Ar-
beitskraft in Familienbetrieben. Ökonomische Verände-
rungen, insbesondere der in den 1980er Jahren durch
Staatsdoktrin eingeführte “New Economic Mechanism”
zwingen Frauen zu härterer Arbeit und mehr Verantwor-
tung im familiären Bereich.
Das Buch zeichnet sich aus durch detaillierte Lebens-
und Erfahrungsberichte laotischer Frauen, die den Le-
serinnen ein wirklichkeitsnahes Bild vom Frauenleben
in Laos vermitteln. Eine Schwachstelle des Buches ist
allerdings der Titel: “The Lao” bezeichnet in der anthro-
pologischen Forschung regelmäßig die ethnischen Lao,
wohingegen Ireson-Doolittle und Moreno-Black sich
nicht auf die ethnischen Lao beschränken, sondern eth-
nische Minderheitengruppen wie die Khmu und Hmong
sogar schwerpunktmäßig einbeziehen. Im Anhang des
Buches findet sich eine umfangreiche Literaturliste, die
einen sehr nützlichen Zugang zu weiterführender Lite-
ratur zum Thema Frauen in Laos darstellt.
Jana Igunma
Jebens, Holger: Pathways to Heaven. Contesting
Mainline and Fundamentalist Christianity in Papua New
Guinea. New York: Berghahn Books, 2005. 284 pp.
ISBN 1-84545-005-1. Price: $75.00
“Pathways to Heaven” is a translation of Holger
Jebens’s 1995 book “Wege zum Himmel. Katholiken,
Siebenten-Tags-Adventisten und der Einfluss der tra-
ditionellen Religion in Pairudu, Southern Highlands
Province, Papua New Guinea.” That work was a revi-
sion of Jebens’s Ph.D. dissertation which was based on
fieldwork undertaken in Papua New Guinea in 1990-91.
The English edition is a welcome addition to writings on
Melanesian Christianity and to ethnographic studies of
the Kewa. Jebens is concerned both with the changing
religious experience of a New Guinea highland popula-
tion and also with the ways religious change has been
studied and understood both in Papua New Guinea and
more widely.
In “Pathways to Heaven” Jebens introduces the peo-
ple of Pairundu, a small Kewa-speaking village in the
Southern Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea. He
usually refers to them as Kome, the name of the clan
which has the majority in the village. Occasionally he
mentions both Kome and Mamarepa, the latter being
a clan with fewer representatives in the village. Others
who have written on the Kewa include John D. LeRoy,
Lisette Josephides, Karl and Joice Franklin, Mary N.
MacDonald, and Simon Apea. Jebens takes account of
their contributions and the work of others such as John
Barker, Michael French Smith, and Miriam Kahn who
have written on Melanesian Christianity. The book is,
Jebens tells us at the outset, “concerned with accultur-
ation in its widest sense” (1). It is divided into three
parts: part I presents Pairundu; part II discusses change
and continuity in Pairundu; part III is concerned with the
area’s missionization and modernization. In presenting
the culture of Pairundu during the time of his fieldwork,
Jebens examines language, habitat and subsistence, and
social organization. He describes traditional subsistence
agriculture, which centers on production of sweet pota-
toes and cash cropping activities such as coffee grow-
ing. He outlines the patrilineal descent and ideology
of brotherhood that characterize Kewa and other New
Guinea highland groups and that are important for net-
works of exchange and for traditional religious practices
Drawing on emic reconstructions of informants whom
he interviewed either in Tok Pisin, the main lingua
franca of Papua New Guinea, or using a translator from
Kewa to Tok Pisin when talking with those who did not
speak Tok Pisin, Jebens describes traditional religion in
Pairundu under the rubrics of “transcendent authorities,
magical practices and cult practices” (49). The Kome,
he tells us, believe in the “existence and effectiveness”
of “bush and ancestral spirits” and in “a separate figure
called Yaki” (50). The people, he says, “only ascribe
injurious effects” to the bush spirits (Kewa kalando\ Tok
Pisin masalai) (51). Although these spirits are associated
with the topography, Jebens says that there are no par-
ticular “holy sites” in the Pairundu area. The kalando
are blamed for illnesses in the community and people
take measures to avoid them. The ancestral spirits (Kewa
remo) may have either a negative or positive influence
on their living relatives. They may inflict punishment on
people whose behavior they find unacceptable but they
may also afford protection or advice to their relatives.
The remo, Jebens says, limit their impact to their own
close relatives (51). In the past the Kome addressed a
father figure, a heavenly being called Yaki. According
to Jebens’s informant Ari, “in the precolonial period
it was usual to ask Yaki for productive plantings, nu-
merous pigs and pearlshells, and many children” (52).
Where I worked in the Erave area and farther south
around Mararoko a benevolent sky being, known as
Yakili, was similarly invoked for the welfare of the land
and the community. In the Mendi area of the South-
ern Highlands Catholics use the name of a comparable
being, Yeki, for the Christian God. Simon Apea, who
is from the lalibu area, to the north of Kagua, wrote
about Yakili as a prefigurement of the Christian God
in his 1977 B. D. thesis entitled, “The Problem of God
in lalibu.”
The “magical practices” described by Jebens include:
witchcraft to cause illness and death; divination to
determine the causes of death, illness, and misfortune;
processes to reverse witchcraft and promote healing;
love magic, fertility magic, and rain magic. However,
“for the Kome themselves,” he writes, “it is not so
much transcendent authorities or magical practices that
are central to the traditional religion as the cult practices
of the precolonial period” (57). By “cult practices” he
refers to rituals carried out in cult houses by men of the
Anthropos 101.2006
628
Rezensionen
community in order to obtain the assistance of ancestral
spirits. Such practices were no longer being carried out
during Jebens’s fieldwork but they were remembered by
the older members of the community and stories of them
were passed on.
Jebens follows his description of the traditional re-
ligious worldview with a discussion of processes of
colonization and missionization. In the late 1950s, when
the territories of Papua and New Guinea were still un-
der Australian control, the people of Pairundu became
Catholics in response to the missionary work of Ca-
puchins from the United States. Jebens says that “the
older Catholics claim that they obeyed the prohibitions
of the first priests and catechists above all because they
were already thoroughly weary of the traditional warfare
and because they did not feel it right that the women
could not consume pig meat in the cult houses” (170).
After the Seventh-Day Adventists (SDAs) came to the
area in 1963, some people converted from Catholicism
to the Seventh-Day Adventist Church. Jebens describes
the reasons given by both Catholics and SDAs for such
conversions, the Catholics tending to cite the materi-
al advantages of Adventism and the fear instilled by
Adventist preaching and the SDAs giving a theological
rationale for the superiority of their denomination. He
describes the community structures, beliefs, and reli-
gious practices of the two denominations, the ways they
understand the relationship of traditional religion and
Christianity, and the ways they relate to each other. A
third phase of the adoption of Christianity in Pairundu
was a Holy Spirit movement which lasted from 1987
to 1989 and which, in retrospect, both Catholics and
Adventists tended to assess negatively. Jebens notes,
however, that among the Catholics the movement gave
rise to changes in practice. “Numerous elements that
originally only appeared with the introduction of the
Holy Spirit movement still continue, above all in the
Catholic evening services. Flowers are used for divina-
tory dreams, people sometimes consult the Bible blind,
and women take over leading functions. In addition,
in Sunday services too there is rhythmic handclapping
accompanying hymns, as well as the sporadic use of
flower decorations” (181).
In Jebens’s view the story of Christianity in Pairundu
“is less a matter of the decline of the traditional religion
than of its transformation and adaptation” (202). He
contends that traditional religion is the core of the
traditional way of life and that it forms the foundation
on which Pairundu Christianity has developed. He sets
the adoption of Christianity within the colonial context
and Melanesians’ desire to share in the power of the
Whites who have intruded on their world. The book will
be of value to those who study the religions of Oceania
and those who are concerned with missions and local
Christianities. Mary N. MacDonald
Johannessen, Helle, and Imre Lazar (eds.): Multi-
ple Medical Realities. Patients and Healers in Biomed-
ical, Alternative, and Traditional Medicine. New York;
Berghahn Books, 2006. 202 pp. ISBN 1-84545-104-X.
(EASA Series, 4) Price: $ 22.50
Das Sammelwerk vereint zwölf Beiträge, die hin-
sichtlich der Ausrichtung, Methodologie und geogra-
fischer Lokalisierung recht unterschiedlich sind. Nach
einer Einführung von Helle Johannessen über “Body
and Seif in Medical Pluralism” und einem Epilog der
beiden Herausgeber über “Multiple Medical Realities.
Reflections from Medical Anthropology” zerfällt das
Buch in zwei Hauptabteilungen.
Der erste Teil behandelt “Body, Seif, and Sociality”,
der zweite “Body, Seif, and the Experience of Healing”,
wobei ja Heilen - nach Auffassung der Rezensentin -
durchaus auch Teil des Gemeinsamen, des Sozialle-
bens ist, um einmal “sociality” hilfsweise zu übersetzen.
Tatsächlich, wie die Herausgeber betonen, zielt der erste
Teil auf die sozialen Implikationen der unterschiedli-
chen Körper- und Selbstentwürfe, wobei die Vielschich-
tig- und Doppeldeutigkeiten der Beziehungen zwischen
“sociality” (das es auf Deutsch meines Wissens nicht
gibt und mit “the quality of being social” in diversen
englischen Enzyklopädien erklärt wird) und Körperre-
präsentationen herausgearbeitet werden, zumeist - mit
einer Ausnahme - auf der Grundlage qualitativer Mate-
rialien. Wie schon in früheren Forschungen, mindestens
seit Beginn der 1970er Jahre, zu Formen und Sequenzen
der Heilerwahl - oder was man damals auch als “healer
shopping” bezeichnete, erforschte und beschrieb - die
vor allem darauf abzielten zu erklären, wann der Biome-
diziner ins Spiel kommt oder auch nicht, geht es in der
heutigen Forschung noch immer darum zu zeigen, dass
verschiedene Erklärungswelten unterschiedliche Körper-
konzepte und damit Wahrnehmungen von Gesundheit
bzw. Missbefinden beeinflussen, wenn nicht bedingen.
Allerdings ist heute klar, dass all das keiner wie auch
immer gearteten linearen Gesetzlichkeit folgt, sondern
dass es “no direct connection between specific idioms
of the body, specific forms of the treatment praxis, and
specific social identities” (9) gibt. Mit anderen Worten,
eine Situation kann sich jeden Moment anders bzw. neu
darstellen, je nach Lage und Sichtweise.
Der erste Beitrag im ersten Teil von L. Buda, K.
Lampek und T. Tahin zeigt anhand einer repräsentati-
ven quantitativen regionalen Umfrage in Ungarn, dass
vor allem chronisch Kranke verschiedene Heilverfahren
anwenden, um zu einer Besserung ihres Zustandes zu
kommen, oder, wie es H. Johannessen theoretischer
formuliert, “as an expression of elective affinity between
unmanageable disorders of the body and plurality in
health seeking” (10). Eines unter mehreren ist die staat-
liche Gesundheitsversorgung. Die dort arbeitenden Bio-
mediziner eignen sich zunehmend andere Verfahren an,
um den Bedürfnissen ihrer Patienten besser zu entspre-
chen. Auch der zweite Beitrag geht um Ungarn, diesmal
mit einer qualitativen Untersuchung. Läzär zeigt, dass
sich innerhalb der staatlichen Gesundheitsversorgung
Netzwerke bilden, die Heiltraditionen bieten, die lan-
ge Zeit unterdrückt waren und den Körper nicht nur
als “Teilelager” begreifen. Aus einem anderen Teil der
Welt, aus Ghana, stammen die Einsichten Kristine Krau-
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
629
ses, die anhand der Geschichte einer psychisch kran-
ken Frau zeigt, dass Vielfältiges gleichzeitig stattfinden
kann, z. B. dass die Ärzte morgens Pharmazeutika und
nachmittags Gebete anbieten. Auch Robert Frank und
Gunnar Stollberg zielen in diese Richtung. Sie haben
deutsche Biomediziner befragt nach deren Nutzung al-
ternativer Fleilverfahren wie z. B. Ayurveda und fanden,
dass es dabei zwei Schulen mit entsprechender Netz-
werkbildung gibt, nämlich zum einen die Pragmatiker,
die verschiedene Verfahren kombinieren, um ihren Pati-
enten zu helfen, und zum anderen die Puristen, die auf
der reinen Lehre bestehen. Christine Barry beschreibt in
ihrem Beitrag aus der Sicht der Patienten Ansätze der
Homöopathie in London, und dass es auch aus deren
Sicht Misch- und reine Formen gibt, die sie nach Bedarf
für sich nutzen. Efrossyni Delmouzou zeigt in ihrem
Beitrag “Re-examining the Médicalisation Process”, wie
ein griechisches Paar je nach Kontext seine Kinderlosig-
keit erklärt, mal als freie Wahl wegen Karriereentschei-
dungen, mal als medizinisches Problem. Das Paar, so
Delmouzou, habe dabei keinerlei Schwierigkeiten, wenn
es von einer Erklärungsebene zur anderen wechselt,
jedenfalls so lange nicht, als sie selbst die Entscheidung
darüber in der Hand behalten.
Richtig neu sind diese Einsichten nicht, während es
die Forschungssujets zum Teil schon sind. Und damit
ist es gut, sie in einem Buch gesammelt zu haben, um
einen schnellen Zugriff auf qualitative Forschungen aus
der Medizinethnologie zu haben, die ansonsten nur hier
und da zu finden sind - oder manchmal auch an sehr ab-
gelegenen Stellen wie der Rivista della società italiana
di antropologia medica in den Jahrgängen 2001/2002,
die dort umfassend dokumentiert, was in Europa in der
Medizinethnologie aktuell geforscht wird, im Süden wie
im Norden.
Der zweite Teil des Buches setzt den Akzent mehr
auf die Heilerfahrungen, obschon auch diese ein Teil der
“sociality” sind und diese beeinflussen, was ja im ersten
Teil des Buches im Vordergrund stand. “The focus is
primarily on thè phenomenological experience of body
and self as changing when confronted with multiple
medical realities and the implications this may have
for the individual” (12). In allen Fällen ist das Ziel
Linderung oder Heilung.
Geoffrey Samuels zeigt ein Heilungsmodell, das er
anhand gebärender Frauen in Nordindien und Bangla-
desch entwickelt hat, und das die bisherigen Grenzen
(Körper/Geist/soziale und physische Umgebung und der
entsprechenden Kommunikation) überwinden will, um
neue Dimensionen der komplexen Heilungsprozesse zu
erforschen. Der individuelle Körper ist hier in Netzwer-
ken von Praktiken, Idiomen und Politik eingebunden,
und verändert sich wenn diese sich verändern, wobei
auch Michael Knipper in seinem Beitrag “Seif, Soul,
and Intravenous Infusion” am Beispiel der Naporuna
in Ekuador zeigt, dass Bedeutungen und Sinngebungen
sich je nach Kontext ändern und neu gefüllt werden,
Wobei auch hier die Patienten die Deutungsgewalt be-
halten. Der folgende Beitrag von Anne Sigfrid Grpnseth
dagegen thematisiert die Brüche, die im Leben kran-
ker tamilischer Flüchtlinge in Nordnorwegen auftreten,
wenn sie sich allein der Biomedizin konfrontiert se-
hen und als Ersatz oder Ergänzung Erinnerungen an
tamilische Heilverfahren zurückrufen und in ihre nor-
wegische Lebenspraxis umsetzen, auch wenn sich de-
ren ursprünglicher Ort tausende von Kilometern weiter
südlich befindet. Auch einige Kilometer weiter südlich,
aber westlich, beschreibt Witold Jacorzynski die Suche
einer psychisch kranken Frau nach Heilung in Mexiko,
die schon vieles erprobt hat und sich dabei wie in einem
Spinnennetz bewegt, zwischen spiritueller Heilung, den
christlichen Axiomen von Gut und Böse, biomedizi-
nischen Praktiken und indianischen Heilverfahren. All
dies trägt jedoch noch zu ihrer Verwirrung und nicht zu
ihrer Heilung bei.
Auch die Aufsätze in diesem zweiten Teil sind in
ihrer theoretischen Substanz nicht wirklich neu, aber sie
zeigen wie Kranke und ihre Heiler sich mit und zwi-
schen verschiedenen Netzwerken bewegen, die wieder-
um den “Körper” bzw. seine Konzeptionen auf den drei
Ebenen, wie Johannessen in ihrer Einleitung schreibt
(“individual body, the social body, and body politics”;
14), beeinflussen. Und so verwundert es nicht, dass
auch die Herausgeber zu dem Schluss kommen, dass
Krankheit nicht alleine ein physisches Problem ist, das
nach physischen Interventionen ruft, sondern soziale und
spirituelle Aspekte einfließen (183) - oder sogar im
Vordergrund stehen; eine Erkenntnis, die zwar nicht neu
ist, aber an neuen Beispielen exemplifiziert wird.
Allerdings fragte sich die Rezensentin bei der Durch-
sicht der Beiträge, warum - bis auf die griechische
Kollegin - der Süden Europas mit Forschungen so
wenig präsentiert wurde. Auch in Italien, Frankreich,
Spanien und Portugal wird intensiv zu den verschiede-
nen medizinischen Realitäten geforscht, was sich in der
oben genannten italienischen Zeitschrift nachlesen lässt.
Bei einer Publikation aus dem EASA-Netzwerk wäre
dies doch zu wünschen gewesen.
Katarina Greifeid
Julien, Marie-Pierre, et Céline Rosselin : La culture
matérielle. Paris : Éditions La Découverte, 2005. 121 pp.
ISBN 2-7071-4493-2. (Collection Repères, 431) Prix:
€ 8.50
Archéologues, historiens, muséologues, anthropo-
logues emploient depuis longtemps le terme de “culture
matérielle” sans en avoir réellement produit une concep-
tualisation généralisante, sinon par bribes dans l’évolu-
tionnisme, le diffusionnisme et le fonctionnalisme. On
sait que le politique et le religieux vivent de sym-
boles, mais le matériel n’est souvent que l’adjuvant
du rite (bénitier, missel, chapelet, banc, cierge, hostie
...) et le matériel a subi les mêmes opprobres que
le corps comme oripeau de l’âme. Dans le sanctuaire
universitaire, on peut se passer de stylo si l’on prend
des notes sur ordinateur portable (encore du matériel !),
et de banc si l’on médite en position de yoga les pa-
roles de l’enseignant (mais le corps s’enveloppe cepen-
dant du matériel vestimentaire). Constamment l’objet
Anthropos 101.2006
630
Rezensionen
matériel est là comme produit, outil, dépôt, trace d’une
culture.
Il est du mérite de Jean-Pierre Warnier que d’avoir,
avec son équipe du laboratoire d’ethnologie de la
Sorbonne-Paris V, dont font partie les deux auteurs,
donné un statut à la matière comme étant “Matière à
penser” aux trois stades de la production, de la circula-
tion et de la consommation, qui constituent les thèmes
capitaux de l’anthropologie économique.
Quelle est la place de la culture matérielle dans
la construction des sociétés ? Quels sont les modes de
traitement muséographique des objets matériels ? Quels
rapports entretient la technique avec la consommation ?
Quel rôle joue au quotidien le matériel dans la construc-
tion des sujets ? Autour de ces questions se nouent de
riches argumentations pour dégager ce qu’on peut lire
en filigrane de culturel dans un meuble ou un canard
laqué, un corset lacé ou le barrage d’un lac artificiel.
Rappel d’histoire tout d’abord, avec résumé de thèses
et critiques pertinentes. Lewis Morgan dit l’importance
du progrès des techniques dans le chemin menant de
la sauvagerie à la civilisation. Leslie White souligne
le rôle de l’accroissement de l’énergie. Pour les paléo-
anthropologues, l’arme est préhumaine, et l’outil simple,
prolongement du corps, est transmissible dans certains
groupes de singes. Le diffusionnisme s’attache aussi à
l’objet comme trait culturel, inséré dans un complexe
culturel et migrant selon certaines trajectoires. La ques-
tion du fonctionnaliste est ; A quoi ça sert ? Selon Boas,
le potlatch est comme la surenchère politique de dons
et contredons matériels.
L’objet dit ethnographique a davantage statut de
preuve représentative et identitaire au musée : masque
dogon, coiffe bressanne, outil de mineur... Pour le folk-
loriste, l’authentique manifeste l’essence d’une culture.
Recueilli, classifié, analysé, préservé du vieillissement
comme patrimoine, l’objet devient objet de savoir.
Si André Leroi-Gourhan a posé les jalons de la
technologie culturelle, dans une anthropologie naguère
trop axée sur les représentations, si des sociologues
français ont approfondi les problèmes du travail et des
techniques, les Anglo-Saxons ont davantage travaillé sur
la consommation comme rendant visible les catégories
de la culture et la stratification sociale. Entre le consom-
mateur rationnel et le pantin manipulé par la pub, il y a
des consommateurs moyens situés en fonction d’un po-
sitionnement familial ou culturel et d’une mondialisation
qui attire l’attention sur l’offre, alors qu’importe davan-
tage pour J. P. Warnier la réception de cette offre. Voyez
avec D. Desjeux la circulation des objets domestiques, et
mettez au pied du mur avec C. Rosselin et M. P. Julien le
meuble ..., et les métiers du meuble ! Avec ces auteurs,
piquez votre attention (55) : Histoire d’un Bavarois, Levi
Strauss, émigré aux États-Unis vers 1850. Il fabrique des
tentes de toile bleue pour les chercheurs d’or. “Deux
jambes, cinq poches et des rivets” : un pantalon solide
est créé pour des générations. La toile venait de Nîmes
(Denim), via le port de Gênes (d’où le nom de Jeans).
Allez vous rehabiller ! Puis restez pour un corps à corps
(70) : “L’âge, le sexe et l’appartenance socioculturelle
sont inscrits dans les corps en action”. La matière et
le corps incarné incorporent du social. L’objet peut
être l’analyseur du passage à l’action, et non seulement
prothèse ou produit, a souligné D. Desjeux. Il permet
la construction des sujets, de leur identité et de leur
conscience de soi.
En conclusion, le matériel n’est pas le parent pauvre
de l’immatériel. Il n’y a pas qu’une seule culture
matérielle, mais beaucoup selon le cadre envisagé, et
spécifiques soit à des époques (âge du bronze), soit
à des populations (Guayakis), soit à des sujets (pom-
piers, infirmières). Bien des objets matériels sont en
dépendance étroite avec des techniques corporelles. La
culture matérielle est un révélateur de la stratification
sociale, en même temps que matière à politique (attributs
rituels du chef) et matière à religion (fétiches, onctions,
ablutions). Que les auteurs aient dû s’astreindre à ne
pas tout dire en si peu de pages, nul ne leur repro-
chera. Chaque lecteur admirera, outre la forte conci-
sion des idées, la nouveauté de pareille synthèse qui,
selon la mode actuelle, a été enrichie d’exemples hors-
texte nombreux et variés. D’évidence sont affirmés la
compétence universitaire des auteurs, leur perspicacité
à découvrir ou redécouvrir certains textes, leur partage
vraiment complice d’un travail sans que l’on puisse
attribuer tel passage à l’une ou à l’autre. On appréciera
enfin que le brio intellectuel s’accorde avec une maîtrise
parfaite du langage et un remarquable sens pédago-
gique. Claude Rivière
Kantor, Leda, y Olga Siivera (coords.): El anuncio
de los pájaros. Voces de la resistencia indígena. Buenos
Aires: Ministerio de Desarrollo Social, 2005. 158 pp.
ISBN 987-22123-0-9.
Este libro compila los resultados de los talleres
de memoria étnica organizados por Leda Kantor y
Olga Siivera. Se trata de varios talleres que reunieron
a unas veinte mujeres wichí, chorote, nivaklé, toba,
chiriguano, chañé y tapiete, para luego complementar la
información así obtenida con el testimonio de casi medio
centenar de mujeres de varias comunidades indígenas
del norte argentino. Entre los temas tratados figuran las
prácticas de iniciación, la poligamia, los antepasados,
los diversos tipos de anuncios y presagios, las creencias
tradicionales, los “secretos” y la brujería, las fiestas
de bebida, las guerras interétnicas, algunos eventos de
resistencia frente a los criollos, algunos relatos de cierta
extensión sobre el impacto de la guerra del Chaco en las
comunidades - tal vez lo más interesante del volumen -
y, por último, las formas actuales de movilización
política.
El único punto oscuro del libro es que, en algunos
casos, la sistematización a posteriori del discurso parece
un tanto excesiva, lo cual permite abrigar dudas sobre
la metodología empleada, así como sobre la represen-
tad vidad del testimonio de algunas informantes. Cual-
quier conocedor de los pueblos indígenas de la zona,
por ejemplo, abrigaría reservas si se le dijera que un
texto como el que sigue representa fielmente lo dicho
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
631
por una mujer indígena en un contexto de oralidad:
“La guerra del Chaco estalló en 1931. Se enfrentaron
entre países hermanos. Los llevaron a este conflicto
los intereses internacionales puestos en las zonas de
frontera” (127). Sería incorrecto, sin embargo, que esta
objeción impidiera apreciar los valores de la obra. Luego
de los desatinos a los que el lector de antropología
debió acostumbrarse a partir de los escribas postmo-
dernos, es saludable que las autoras de “El anuncio de
los pájaros” no intenten en ningún momento apropiarse
del protagonismo de las informantes indígenas; por el
contrario, se inmiscuyen lo mínimo indispensable para
delinear algunos aspectos de la metodología utilizada
en los talleres y luego dejan paso a la voz de las infor-
mantes. El estilo utilizado para reflejar estas voces es
liso y llano, despojado de jerga académica, y adecuado
en definitiva para transmitir al gran público la lucha
constante de las etnias indígenas por preservar y recrear
de un modo activo - e incluso crítico - su identidad
cultural. Cuando clasifican la información recolectada
en los talleres, a la vez, las compiladoras no incurren en
ciertos errores que plagan la bibliografía antropológica,
como por ejemplo la confusión entre los chiriguano,
los tapíete, los chañé y otros pueblos guaraní-hablantes
de la zona. Además, nunca está de más dar espacio
al pensamiento de las mujeres, grandes olvidadas de
una etnografía chaqueña frecuentemente aquejada por un
sesgo - explícito o no - que invisibiliza la perspectiva
de género. Así, cuando se postula los “wichí piensan que
...”, la mayor parte de las veces debe entenderse como
“los varones wichí piensan que ...”. Esto no significa,
en modo alguno, que haya que importar acríticamente
los discursos de la antropología del género - pocas
veces adaptables al contexto chaqueño -, sino tan sólo
reconocer la necesidad de preservar la voz de mujeres
concretas que viven en sociedades concretas, para luego
forjar a partir de las mismas las herramientas analíticas
que permitan contextualizarlas y comprenderlas de un
modo integral. La etnografía wichí más reciente, por
ejemplo, ha comprobado que la mayoría de las veces
las mujeres constituyen los reservorios privilegiados del
conocimiento cultural y la historia local, lo cual es com-
prensible dada la uxorilocalidad y su fuerte influencia en
la formación de las unidades domésticas.
Cuando uno se pregunta qué propósito puede tener un
libro que compila sólo testimonios nativos, la respuesta
radica simplemente en el valor - jamás demasiado enfa-
tizado - de las fuentes documentales. Siempre valdrá la
pena registrar y volver a registrar los hechos sociales que
Prestan singularidad a la vida de una sociedad dada, así
como también las voces de aquellos individuos excep-
cionales capaces de enhebrar una reflexión lúcida sobre
su propia cultura. Dado que “El anuncio de los pájaros”
cumple con ambos objetivos, es una contribución que
apuntala nuestro conocimiento de los pueblos indígenas
del norte argentino y echa luz sobre un área cultural
hasta hace poco negligida por la literatura etnográfica.
Diego Villar
Knab, Timothy J.: The Dialogue of Earth and
Sky. Dreams, Souls, Curing, and the Modem Aztec
Underworld. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press,
2004. 181 pp. ISBN 0-8165-2413-0. Price: $ 26.95
Der Autor, Professor für Antropología an der Uni-
versidad de las Américas, Puebla, in Cholula, Mexiko,
bewegt sich mit seinen Publikationen auf einem Mittel-
weg zwischen Ethnographie und Ethnopoesie. Bei sei-
nem früheren Buch, “A War of Witches. A Journey into
the Underworld of the Contemporary Aztect” (1995),
handelt es sich um eine Fiktion, die auf ethnographi-
schen Details beruht, gewissermaßen um einen ethno-
poetischen Roman in der Tradition von Hubert Fichte
und Carlos Castañeda. Das vorliegende Buch, das er
noch vor der Veröffentlichung seines Romans begann,
aber nun erst fertig stellte, präsentiert eine religions-
ethnologische Fallstudie über die Bewohner der Sierra
de Puebla, wenngleich nicht in Form einer konventio-
nellen Monographie. Knab schreibt vielmehr im Stil
der dialogischen Ethnographie: ausgehend von seinen
persönlichen Erfahrungen beschreibt er auf sehr flüssige
Weise eine religiöse Tradition, die seiner Einschätzung
nach Kolonisation, Missionierung und den Einfluss der
modernen Welt überdauerte.
Ausgangspunkt ist sein Besuch in dem Dorf San
Martin 1991, einige Jahre nach seiner ursprünglichen
Forschung dort. Inzwischen waren seine beiden Leh-
rer, Doña Rubia und Don Inocente, verstorben. Beim
Abschluss seiner langjährigen Forschung hatte er den
Eindruck gewonnen, er sei der letzte, der die Tradition
lernte und sich in dem Weg ausbilden ließ. Nun musste
er aber erkennen, dass es eine Form von geheimer Bewe-
gung gibt, die das Wissen um talocan und die Unterwelt
kannte und eine Tradition praktizierte, die sie Jahrhun-
derte zurücktradierte. Auf seine Frage, warum sie davon
nicht bereits früher jemandem berichtet hatten, erhielt
er die lakonische Antwort “Keiner hat gefragt”. Nach
Knab kommt es dabei auf die korrekte Art zu fragen an,
die zwischen Insidern und Outsidern unterscheidet. Nur
wenn eine Frage in der korrekten Sprache und mit den
korrekten Wörtern gestellt werde, kann Wissen an einen
Außenseiter weitergegeben werden.
Knab bezeichnet die Lehre von Doña Rubia als
ihre eigene Synthese aus essentialistischen Elementen
von Tradition und Werten. Es ist, wie er schreibt,
ein mesoamerikanisches System und eine Synthese aus
der natürlichen und der übernatürlichen Welt, typische
für die Region “seit Jahrhunderten, wenn nicht sogar
Jahrtausenden” (6). Natürlich handelt es sich dabei, wie
er anfangs schreibt, um eine rekonstruierte Erinnerung,
die allerdings heute praktiziert wird, wie er betont,
unter anderem von ihm selbst. Von dieser Einordnung
zu Beginn seines Buches abgesehen, präsentiert der
Autor auf den folgenden 179 Seiten seine Ausführungen
auf eher essentialistische Weise und malt ein sehr
homogenes Bild von der Religion der Bewohner von
San Martin Zinacapan, ohne es zu hinterfragen. Wie
er anfangs betont, schreibt er Ethnographie als Fiktion
(1995) und Analyse als Fakt. D. h. er präsentiert seine
Interpretation dessen, was ihm berichtet wurde und was
Anthropos 101.2006
632
Rezensionen
er erlebt hat, als wissenschaftliche Realität - auch eine
Form der Ethnopoesie.
Das Buch ist in fünf Kapitel unterteilt. Im ersten
Kapitel werden die religiösen Hintergründe präsentiert,
z. B. das Konzept des Kosmos (Unterteilung in ilhuicac,
taltipac und talocan) und die entsprechende Dreiteilung
der menschlichen Seele {notonal, noyollo und nona-
gual). Wenngleich Knab schreibt, dass die derzeitigen
religiösen Grundlagen der Menschen aus San Martin
Zinacapan natürlich keinen direkten Bezug zu “ihren
Vorfahren, den Tolteken” oder gar den Azteken haben
(12), basierten die Konzepte dennoch auf gemeinsamen
mesoamerikanischen Prinzipien. Für diese sehr essen-
tialistische Sichtweise präsentiert der Autor so gut wie
keine Belege. Er behauptet einfach; “The similarity of
these Systems should be quite obvious to anyone fa-
miliär with ethnohistorical sources concemed with cos-
movision” (12). Danach verweist er erstens auf eine
fundamentale Homologie der Grundprinzipien, die die
Menschheit mit der natürlichen und sozialen Welt in
Mesoamerika verbinde und die seit Jahrhunderten, oder
gar Jahrtausenden, konstant sei, sowie zweitens darauf,
dass das Glaubenssystem nicht nur in einem Dorf prakti-
ziert werde, sondern in der gesamten Region. Diese doch
sehr an Tedlock erinnernde, simplifizierende Sichtweise
auf indianische Religionen angesichts der Vielfalt und
Dynamik menschlicher Kulturen ist etwas abschreckend,
vor allem da der Autor sie als wissenschaftlich abgesi-
chert präsentiert. Allerdings gibt der Autor anschließend
einen guten Überblick über die religiösen Grundlagen
der Bewohner des mexikanischen Dorfes (einschließ-
lich ihrer katholischen Elemente, aber leider ohne dies
näher ethnographisch vorzustellen), basierend auf sei-
ner langjährigen engen Vertrautheit mit ihrem Leben,
so dass ich dazu rate, diesen ideologischen Überbau
zu ignorieren und weiterzulesen (im weiteren Verlauf
seiner Ausführungen belegt er seine Vergleiche mit der
aztekischen Religion stets unter Hinweis auf Literatur).
Das zweite Kapitel beschäftigt sich mit Träumen, den
Reisen der Seele. Mitunter tendiert der Autor wieder
etwas zu sehr zu Verallgemeinerungen, z. B. wenn er
schreibt “people say that” oder “most villagers will teil”
(z. B. 42, 43). Interessant wird es vor allem, wenn er
einzelne Stimmen präsentiert (z. B. 45-47, 64-67). So
gibt das Kapitel insgesamt einen guten Einblick über
die bedeutende Stellung von Träumen in dem Dorf und
zeigt dabei auch die Wandelbarkeit von Träumen im
Dialog. Das dritte Kapitel beinhaltet Gebete, mit relativ
vielen Beispielen, die die Bedeutung der Gebete im
Dorf gut illustrieren. Im vierten Kapitel geht es um die
Geographie der Unterwelt, d. h. der Autor präsentiert die
Gestalt der Unterwelt, wo die Ahnen leben und wo die
Ursache von Problemen zu finden ist. Daher lernt jeder
Schamane in der Ausbildung, wie die Unterwelt geformt
ist, sowie deren Grundprinzipien. Die Unterwelt wird,
wie Knab schreibt, als eine Erweiterung der natürlichen
Welt in den Bereich des Übernatürlichen betrachtet:
“the interpretation of the unkown and unknowable from
the known world” (97). Die Interpretation erfolgt dann
wieder anhand von Träumen. So wird in diagnostischen
Träumen die Ursache von Problemen in der Unterwelt
der Ahnen gesucht. D. h. Träume gelten als Metaspra-
che, die es Schamanen erlaubt, mit Klienten und deren
Familien in einer multiplen Weise zu sprechen. Auch
kurze Träume können auf unterschiedliche Weise ge-
deutet werden und bedürfen längerer Diskussionen, wie
der Autor anhand eines Beispiels erläutert (98), bevor
er dann ausführlich die Unterwelt und ihre Bewohner
beschreibt. Im fünften Kapitel behandelt Knab abschlie-
ßend die therapeutische Seite, d. h. den Zusammenhang
von Träumen und Heilung. Er schreibt beispielsweise;
“The language of the discourse of dreams that eure is
the language of the tradition of the ancestors and talocan
[= Unterwelt] ...” (133). Der Autor bezieht sich dabei
mehrmals auf Bachtin, wobei seine Angaben zu Bachtin
allerdings vor allem von Todorov stammen und somit
eigentlich Todorovs Weiterbearbeitung von Bachtin dar-
stellen. Von Bachtin selbst stammt lediglich der Ansatz
zur Polyphonie. Dennoch ist dieser Teil des Buches am
gelungensten in seiner Verbindung aus Ethnographie und
Theorie. Der Autor zeigt nicht nur den dialogischen
Charakter von Träumen und Traumdeutung, sondern
auch den transformativen Charakter der Traumgeschich-
ten und deren vielschichtige Interpretationsweisen.
Insgesamt ist das Buch anschaulich geschrieben und
voller faszinierender Geschichten. Allerdings leidet der
Gesamteindruck etwas unter dem Versuch des Autors,
aus einer interessanten Einzelstudie mehr zu machen,
als sie ist, und eine allumfassende mesoamerikanische
Ideologie zu kreieren. Das Buch bietet einen Einblick
in die religiösen Vorstellungen eines Dorfes und zeigt
damit auch - entgegen dem verkrampften Versuchs
der Erweiterung -, wie dynamisch und kreativ mit
religiösen Vorstellungen umgegangen werden kann, die
halt nicht statisch unveränderlich seit Jahrhunderten
bestehen, wie der Autor anfangs behauptet, sondern
kreativ im Moment und im Dialog veränderbar sind.
Bettina Schmidt
Köhler, Ulrich (Hrsg.): Nueva Maravilla. Eine junge
Siedlung im Kontext massiver indianischer Migration
nach San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexiko.
Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 427 pp. ISBN 3-8258-8315-
9. (Ethnologische Studien, 37) Preis: € 39.90
Long before the 1994 armed uprising of the “Ejército
Zapatista de Liberación Nacional” and its temporal siege
of the city of San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas
has been one of the most extensively and intensively
studied regions in Mesoamerican ethnography. Since the
beginnings of the Harvard Chiapas Project and the estab-
lishment of the first “Centro Coordinador Indigenista,”
the local agency of the Mexican government’s National
Indigenist Institute, the Chiapas highlands are one of the
most outstanding foci of long-term research in social
anthropology, in general, and in community studies, in
particular. The European “branch” of this tradition is
being represented, above all, by Ulrich Kohler’s broad-
ranging ethnographic, ethnohistorical, and ethnolinguis-
tic oeuvre. Starting with his 1969 monography on the
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
633
impact of applied anthropology and indigenist integra-
tion measures in highland Chiapas, Köhler has dedi-
cated his extended fieldwork trajectory among Tzeltal
and Tzotzil communities in Chiapas to the micro-level,
locally based study of such diverse topics as economic
exchange patterns, interethnic relations, and religious
cosmologies.
His latest publication, a compiled volume of -
again - a wide range of case studies carried out un-
der his supervision by several anthropology graduate
students of Freiburg University, focuses on the patterns,
trends, and consequences of internal migration of Tzeltal
and Tzotzil indigenous comuneros who migrate from
their highland communities of origin to the outskirts
of the city of San Cristóbal. This highly relevant but
still rather understudied topic is here addressed from
a nearly comprehensive approach. Regaining classical
fieldwork methodology and particularly the community
study approach, Köhler and his students present detailed
analyses of such diverse issues as the migration process
towards San Cristóbal since the seventies, the urban
and peri-urban host contexts, patterns of settlement and
housing, economic activities developed by the first gen-
eration migrants, handicraft traditions “imported” and
readapted by the migrant families, the transformation of
the families’ social structures, their health situation as
well as the presence of medical, religious, and educa-
tional institutions. The volume concludes with applied
anthropology perspectives on adult education, on social
work with street children, on gender issues, and on
human rights organizations present in the city of San
Cristóbal.
This highly diverse range of topics is ethnographical-
ly and monographically studied in the colonia of Nueva
Maravilla, a new settlement of already 3,000 mostly
indigenous inhabitants in the outskirts of San Cristóbal.
Despite individual differences reflecting the researchers’
particular backgrounds and training, all chapters are
characterized by a descriptive approach, through which
ethnographic material is presented and only scarcely an-
alyzed. Apart from Kohler’s introductory notes and his
final chapter on “Achievements, Problems, and Perspec-
tives,” the authors renounce any broader, contextualiz-
ing interpretations of their rich ethnographic material.
Theoretical discussions of the implications to be drawn
from the collected data are accordingly missing.
This lack of a conceptual framework, however, does
not affect the overall quality of the ethnographic material
assembled, analyzed, and presented here. Important con-
clusions on urban and peri-urban settlement patterns, on
transformations of social structures and religious belief
systems as well as on economic implications of internal
indigenous migrations offer diverse points of departure
for further analysis, comparison, and conceptualization.
As most of the authors of the different chapters are
ethnology students, hopefully several among them will
deepen their specific interests and theorize starting from
this material through their future theses. The already
long standing tradition of ethnographic fieldwork “trips”
and trainings, which is still being maintained and prac-
ticed by several German anthropology departments even
in these times of “crises” and budget cuts, again has
proven to be a fertile approach not only for initiating
students into systematic and guided ethnographic expe-
riences, but also for compiling firsthand material from
understudied - urban - localities and/or topics.
A methodological chapter summarizing the methods
and techniques specifically developed and employed
for this “field school” experience would have been
very helpful in order to evaluate the students’ indi-
vidual and collective ethnographic achievements. We
still lack didactical and methodological analyses and
evaluations of such guided ethnographic training exper-
iments, in the tradition of which this lively monography
stands. Gunther Dietz
Leopold, Mark: Inside West Nile. Violence, History,
and Representation on an African Frontier. Oxford:
James Currey; Santa Fe: School of American Research
Press; Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 2005. 180 pp.
ISBN 0-85255-940-2; ISBN 1-930618-65-4; ISBN 9970-
02-496-5. Price; £ 16.95
Dieses Buch über den ugandischen “West Nile Dis-
trict” basiert auf der Auswertung von Archivquellen
und einer Feldforschung des Autors in den 1990er
Jahren. Zentraler Gegenstandsbereich der Arbeit sind
die gewalttätig ausgetragenen Konflikte in der Region,
die diesen Teil Afrikas - das Dreiländereck Uganda/
Kongo/Sudan - seit Jahrzehnten nicht zur Ruhe kom-
men lassen. Noch bevor eine der europäischen Kolo-
nialmächte Ansprüche auf das Gebiet anmeldete, war
die Geschichte von Krieg und Gewalt geprägt. Der
Mahdi-Aufstand im Sudan des Jahres 1885 hat auch hier
seine Spuren hinterlassen. Teile der damaligen Kolonial-
verwaltung der südsudanischen Provinz Äquatoria - ihr
Gouverneur Emin Pascha alias Eduard Schnitzer und
seine nubischen Soldaten - fanden hier Unterschlupf
und zogen plündernd durch die Dörfer. Das war das
historische Schlüsselereignis, das bis heute das Bild von
Land und Leuten prägt (119). Die Einbindung des Land-
striches unter die direkte Kontrolle der europäischen
Kolonialmächte erfolgte erst nach Emin Paschas Flucht
aus dem Sudan, davor war das Gebiet ein Eldorado für
Elfenbeinjäger und Sklavenhändler (125). 1893-1909
unterstand das Gebiet der belgischen Verwaltung, kam
dann in britische Hände und war 1910-1913 Teil des
angloägyptischen Sudans, bevor es 1914 dem Protekto-
rat Uganda zugeschlagen wurde.
Bis heute ist diese Gegend durch ihre blutigen Aus-
einandersetzungen gekennzeichnet. Das Ziel Leopolds
ist es, die Entstehung dieser Konflikte zu verfolgen; vor
allem aber den Spuren nachzugehen, die der Diskurs
über die Gewalt sowohl in den Köpfen der Betroffenen
als auch in schriftlichen Quellen hinterlassen hat. In
erster Linie geht es in der Arbeit darum, das Verhältnis
von Gewalt und deren Einfluss auf die geschichtlichen
Darstellungen, insbesondere aber auf die betroffenen
Menschen, die Objekte dieser Zuschreibungen wurden,
auszuleuchten (9, 162). Die Ethnien der Lugbara, Alur,
Anthropos 101.2006
634
Rezensionen
Kakwa und nicht zuletzt die Nachkommen der Nubier
werden bis heute mit Stereotypen belegt, die sich schon
in der frühen Kolonialzeit nachweisen lassen. Hierzu
wertet der Autor Interviews aus, die er aufgezeichnet
hat und analysiert umfangreiches Archivmaterial, das
vornehmlich aus ugandischen und britischen Archiven
stammt. Dabei stehen in einzelnen Kapiteln entweder
die schriftlichen Dokumente der Kolonialverwaltungen
(Kap. 4 und Kap. 5), oder andererseits Beschreibungen
aus der Reise- und Abenteuerliteratur (Kap. 6) im Vor-
dergrund oder aber die aktuellen Debatten, die der Autor
mit seinen Gewährsmännern geführt und dann aufge-
zeichnet hat (Kap. 2 und Kap. 7). In anderen Passagen
werden die unterschiedlichen Quellen nebeneinander ge-
stellt (Kap. 3).
Leopold ist bestrebt, in möglichst allen Kapiteln die
schriftlichen Diskurse und ihre Ergebnisse mit den Be-
troffenen abzugleichen und ihre Positionen mit einzu-
beziehen. So ergibt sich ein vielschichtiges Bild, ob-
wohl in einzelnen Kapiteln doch die auf Schriftquellen
fixierte Darstellungsweise die Oberhand behält. Erkennt
man als das Merkmal der britischen Ethnologie ihre
ausschließliche Feldforschungszentrierung an, so ist die-
se Arbeit für die britischen Verhältnisse eher atypisch.
Die Feldforschung beansprucht in diesem Fall nämlich
nicht den ersten Platz unter den Methoden, sondern tritt
oft hinter der Archivforschung zurück (162). Dies war
auch den unsicheren Bedingungen im Forschungsgebiet
geschuldet, die einen längeren Feldaufenthalt in einem
Dorf nicht zuließen (17).
Der Autor entscheidet sich auch für das Experi-
ment, die Geschichte von der Gegenwart her aufzurol-
len, und so beginnt die Kapiteleinteilung - für eine
historische Darstellung eher ungewöhnlich - mit der
Gegenwart. Erst in den letzten Kapiteln werden dann die
länger zurückliegenden Zeitabschnitte behandelt. Auch
die Zeitangaben folgen diesem Muster, so dass sich dann
eine der Kapitelüberschriften wie folgt liest: “Amin,
West Nile & the Postcolony, 1995-62” (49). Begründet
wird dieses ungewöhnliche Vorgehen mit dem primären
Interesse des Ethnologen an den aktuellen Gegeben-
heiten, die nach wie vor den Ausgangspunkt für die
ethnologische Forschung bilden. In diesem Zusammen-
hang wird auf Vico und dessen zyklisches Geschichts-
verständnis ebenso Bezug genommen (3, 161) wie auf
Evans-Pritchard, der die gegensätzliche Sichtweise auf
die Geschichte zum Hauptunterscheidungsmerkmal zwi-
schen Historikern und Ethnologen erklärte. Während
die einen Geschichte von ihrem Ursprung zu fassen
versuchen, geht der Ethnologe von der Gegenwart so
weit zurück, wie die Quellen es zulassen (8).
Folgerichtig beginnt der Autor daher auch in sei-
nem Einleitungskapitel (1-26) mit der Darlegung sei-
ner Methode (3), der Vorstellung des Themenkomple-
xes Geschichte, Ethnologie und Repräsentation (7) und
dem Verhältnis zur Gewalt (9), das nicht nur in der
Theoriebildung der britischen Sozialanthropologie in der
Analyse der akephalen Gesellschaften eine prominente
Rolle spielte (9, 132), sondern auch die Feldforschungs-
situation beeinflusste. Bewaffnete Überfälle sowie der
Krieg im Sudan und im Kongo waren allgegenwärtig
und spürbar (20). Eingewoben sind in das erste Kapitel
auch ein knapper historischer Abriss und eine - etwas
unübersichtliche - Aufzählung der unterschiedlichen
Rebellengruppen, die im Gebiet operiert haben oder dies
bis vor kurzem taten.
Der Autor wies vom Beginn an auf die Zusam-
menhänge hin, die zwischen den Stereotypen und den
geschichtlichen Ereignissen bestehen. Dass Idi Amin,
der blutrünstige Autokrat der 1970er Jahre, seine Her-
kunft und seinen Namen auf die mit Emin Pascha
aus dem Sudan gekommene Soldateska zurückführte,
ist dabei nur eine der zutage geförderten Erkenntnisse
(15).
Das zweite Kapitel (27-48) beschreibt den Ort der
Feldforschung, die Distrikthauptstadt Arua. Aufgezeigt
wird, wie sich aus der britischen Kolonialgründung ei-
ne Stadt entwickelte, die heute durch die zahlreichen
Niederlassungen der Hilfsorganisationen geprägt ist, die
das Flüchtlingselend der Grenzprovinz verwalten und
nebenher zum größten Arbeitgeber wurden (39). Dane-
ben spielt der grenzüberschreitende informelle Sektor
eine wichtige Rolle, vor allem der Schmuggel aus und
in den Kongo (41).
Das dritte Kapitel (49-67) beschäftigt sich nun mit
dem Hauptakteur der ugandischen Geschichte, der sei-
nen langen Schatten auf die Grenzprovinz warf: Idi
Amin. Da Amin selbst aus dem West Nile District
stammte, war eine Folge seiner Amtsenthebung für viele
Bewohner seines Heimatgebietes mit einer Flucht aus
Uganda verbunden. Die im West Nile District lebenden
Ethnien waren als Amins Leute verschrien und ihre
Verfolgung schien durch die gemeinsame Herkunft legi-
timiert (56). Erst nachdem die Kämpfe lange abgeflaut
waren und es 1986 einen Regierungswechsel in Uganda
gegeben hatte, kamen die Flüchtlinge zurück (59). In
der (wissenschaftlichen) Auseinandersetzung um Amin
analysiert der Autor eine Reihe von Klischees. Die
Amin zugeschriebene Gewaltbereitschaft und Virilität
(61) verstärkten das Bild, das spätestens seit der bri-
tischen Kolonialzeit von den Ethnien des West Nile
Districts gezeichnet wurde. Idi Amins Name selbst ist
ein Hinweis auf die ehemaligen nubischen Soldaten, die
mit Emin Pascha 1892 ins Land kamen. Dieses Ereignis
ist ein ganz entscheidender Baustein des Stereotyps über
Land und Leute. Die Nubier bildeten einige Jahre später
das Rückgrat der von der britischen Kolonialregierung
aufgestellten ugandischen Armee. Dies festigte in der
gesamten Kolonie - und weit darüber hinaus - ihren
Ruf als brutale Kämpfer und machte sie zu einer der
am meisten gefürchteten Gruppen innerhalb Ugandas
(60). Im Gegensatz dazu stehen die wirtschaftlichen und
sozialen Verhältnisse, die sich innerhalb der Provinz
- auch in der Ära Amin - keineswegs besserten (65).
Das vierte Kapitel (68-81) untersucht die Zeit der
britischen Kolonialherrschaft und geht bis in das Jahr
1925 zurück. Hier werden die Gründe dargelegt, die da-
zu führten, dass viele der männlichen Einwohner in die
Armee strömten oder sich als Emtearbeiter verdingen
mussten (70, 80). Außerhalb Ugandas wurde das Gebiet
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
635
durch die klassischen Monographien John Middletons
über die Lugbara und Aidan Southalls über die Alur
bekannt, die beide Anfang der 1950er Jahre hier ihre
Feldforschungen machten und jeweils auf ihre Weise
dazu beitrugen, das Bild der Bewohner mitzuprägen
(74, 76).
Das folgende 5. Kapitel (82-107) befasst sich mit
einem Aufstand gegen die britische Kolonialverwaltung,
dessen einseitige Aufarbeitung mit dazu beitrug, das
Bild der aggressiven und unbotmäßigen Stämme auf-
rechtzuerhalten, obwohl, wie der Autor glaubhaft nach-
weisen kann, der gesamte antikoloniale Aufstand eine
Erfindung war und eher in den Köpfen und auf den
Papieren der Briten stattgefunden hat als in der Realität
(88). Es war der Phantasie des britischen Distriktbe-
amten Jacques Driberg zu verdanken, dass der “Allah
Water Cult”, auch als Yakan-Aufstand bezeichnet, eine
solche Prominenz erlangte. Immerhin quittierte Driberg
den Kolonialdienst, um Ethnologie zu studieren und den
Yakan diesmal wissenschaftlich zu analysieren (92).
Ein weiterer Aspekt in der Geschichte der Regi-
on wird im 6. Kapitel (108-130) vorgestellt: die Zeit
zwischen 1850 und 1913. Mittelpunkt des Abschnit-
tes ist die Ankunft der Nubier unter Emin Pascha im
Jahr 1892. Nachdem Emin Pascha mit Morton Stanley
das Land in Richtung Ostküste verlassen hatte, blieben
seine Soldaten im Land und sollten schon bald von
Fredrik Lugard als Soldaten für die neu zu schaffende
britische Kolonialarmee gewonnen werden (124). Neben
diesem Hauptereignis stellt der Autor noch dar, wie der
Landstrich als Jagdrevier für europäische Elfenbeinjäger
genutzt wurde und noch früher von arabischen Skla-
venhändlern aus dem Sudan heimgesucht wurde (127).
Alle diese Fakten wertet Leopold als Hinweise auf eine
wenig friedvolle Vergangenheit, deren “Gewaltimport”
vor allem auf äußere Einflüsse zurückzuführen ist.
Wie aber kann man nach all diesen Gewaltexzes-
sen den Neuanfang wagen? Diese Frage stellt sich das
7. Kapitel (131-160), das mit “Lifting the Curse” über-
schrieben ist. Und die Antwort geben die Ältesten des
Distrikts in ihren Bemühungen Frieden zu schaffen.
Hierher gehört eine Stärkung des lokalen Selbstbewusst-
seins, wie es sich in Dialekt verfassten Büchern, eigenen
Forschungen zur Lokalgeschichte und der Gründung
von Kulturvereinen manifestiert (155). Dabei wird zwar
auch auf Werke der Ethnologen zurückgegriffen, es
werden jetzt jedoch andere Schlüsse gezogen und die
Ergebnisse in einem gänzlich anderen Kontext präsen-
tiert. Geschichte ist nicht mehr nur Teil eines wissen-
schaftlichen Diskurses, sondern wird in die Alltagsle-
benswelt, aus der die Verfasser stammen, einbezogen.
Der Autor spricht hier von “aufgeführten Geschichten”
(142). Auch eine Neuinszenierung von alten Ritualen
soll dabei helfen die Feindschaften zu vergessen (154).
Ob dies gelingen kann, darüber macht der Autor keine
Angaben.
In der Schlussbetrachtung (161-163) fasst der Au-
tor seinen Argumentationsstrang nochmals zusammen
und wiederholt seine Grundfrage, die als roter Faden
alle Kapitel verbindet: woher stammt das Bild von Ge-
walttätigkeit und Marginalität, das das Gebiet und seine
Menschen bis heute prägt? Mit dieser Frage setzte sich
der Autor aus unterschiedlichen Perspektiven auseinan-
der und verfolgte nicht allein den politischen Diskurs
der Gegenwart, sondern untersuchte ausführlich die ge-
schichtliche Entwicklung dieses Stereotyps. Es gelang
ihm dabei, den jeweiligen Kontext einzubeziehen und
nachzuweisen, welche Wirksamkeit Stereotype entfalten
können und wie sie die Lebenswirklichkeit nachhaltig
beeinflussen. Eine Arbeit, die zum Nachdenken anregt
und sich auch dann zu lesen lohnt, wenn man sich nicht
für Afrika interessiert. Udo Mischek
Linnertz, Birgit P.: Tiyospaye. Politische Gruppen
der Plains-Indianer in der Vor-Reservationszeit. Wyk auf
Föhr: Verlag für Amerikanistik, 2005. 139 pp. ISBN
3-89510-105-2. Preis; € 21.00
Es gibt zwar auf dem deutschsprachigen Bücher-
markt eine Reihe von mehr oder minder wissenschaft-
lichen oder zumindest wissenschaftlichen Ansprüchen
genügenden Werken über die Plains-Indianer. Gera-
de diese nordamerikanischen Ureinwohner haben durch
Unterhaltungsmedien, vor allem wohl durch die Bücher
von Karl May und deren Verfilmung, das stereotype Bild
des Indianers im deutschsprachigen Europa schlechthin
geprägt. Jedoch reduziert sich beinahe das Angebot ent-
sprechender ethnographischer und historischer Literatur
auf die Zeit der militärischen Auseinandersetzung der
nordamerikanischen Ureinwohner mit den Exponenten
der aus Richtung Osten vordringenden euroamerikani-
schen Bevölkerung, also etwa um die zur Zeit vor der
Mitte des 19. Jhs. Das war eine relativ kurze Zeitspan-
ne. Über das Schicksal bzw. die Lebensweise der no-
madisierenden Plains-Indianer nach ihrer militärischen
Unterwerfung, über die völlige Neugestaltung ihrer po-
litischen Strukturen und ökonomischen Basis in den Re-
servationen gibt es hingegen nur eine nicht allzu schwer
zu überschauende Anzahl von Literatur. Ebenso sieht es
um die Forschungsliteratur aus, zumindest derjenigen,
die in deutscher Sprache vorliegt (in den USA fällt die
Einschätzung naturgemäß völlig anders aus), die sich
mit der Geschichte, Kultur und Religion der indigenen
Bevölkerung Nordamerikas vor dem Zusammentreffen
mit den europäischstämmigen Kolonisten und Militärs
beschäftigt. Auch hier gibt es relativ wenig einschlägige
Literatur außerhalb der archäologischen Fachstudien.
Dies will die vorliegende Arbeit ändern. Sie konzen-
triert sich auf die Untersuchung politischer Gruppen, die
sich im Verlaufe der Vorreservationszeit unter den India-
nern der Plains herausgebildet hatten und die letztend-
lich die Bedingungen schufen, damit die Plains-Indianer
in der Öffentlichkeit die Aufmerksamkeit fanden, die sie
noch heute haben.
Das Buch ist in 11 partiell jeweils weiter unter-
gliederte Komplexe unterteilt. Die Kapitel 3 bis 8 bil-
den die Substanz. Nachdem sich die Autorin mit der
Herausbildung der Plains-Kultur beschäftigt hat, stellt
sie zunächst im Allgemeinen politische Gruppierun-
gen der Plains-Indianer vor. Auf der Grundlage der so
Anthropos 101.2006
636
Rezensionen
festgelegten Begriffe für die verschiedenen politischen
Gruppierungen (Linnertz schreibt immer von Gruppe,
was den Eindruck einer Homogenität hervorruft, jedoch
nicht zutreffend ist, sondern eher scheint der Begriff
“Gruppierung” zutreffend zu sein), wie Lokalgruppe,
Stamm, Männerbünde, werden einzelne ethnische Ge-
meinschaften der Plains-Indianer auf eben diese Phäno-
mene hin analysiert. Dabei wird in erster Linie der
Frage nachgegangen, “welche verschiedenen politischen
Gruppen innerhalb eines Stammes festzustellen sind und
welcher jeweiligen Struktur sie unterliegen” (9). Jedoch
steht ebenso die Untersuchung des Verhaltens der ver-
schiedenen Gruppierungen untereinander im Fokus des
Interesses. Indes geht Linnertz auch darauf ein, wel-
che politischen Gruppierungen verschiedener ethnischer
Herkunft wie und warum zueinander in Beziehung stan-
den. Ihre Untersuchungsgegenstände sind verschiedene
“Stämme” der Sprachfamilien der Sioux, der Algonkin,
der Uto-Azteken sowie der Plains-Apachen. In all den
Fallstudien kommt die besondere Bedeutung zum Tra-
gen, die durch die Einführung und Nutzung des Pferdes
für die Herausbildung einer eigenständigen Kultur in den
Plains entstanden.
Insgesamt gesehen handelt es sich hier um eine solide
Arbeit, die sich weitgehend auf Überblicksdarstellun-
gen, zum guten Teil auf deutschsprachige Sekundärli-
teratur, stützt. Für eine auch akademischen Ansprüchen
voll genügende Analyse müsste die Autorin allerdings
tiefer in die Thematik, vor allem unter Hinzuziehung
der einschlägigen Fachliteratur in den USA, von den
Archivmaterialien erst gar nicht zu reden, eindringen.
Aber einen Anfang für das Herangehen an eine solche
tiefgreifendere Aufgabe hat die Autorin gemacht.
Ulrich van der Heyden
McCabe, J. Terrence; Cattle Bring Us to Our En-
emies. Turkana Ecology, Politics, and Raiding in a
Disequilibrium System. Ann Arbor: The University of
Michigan Press, 2004. 301pp. ISBN 0-472-06878-4.
Price: $29.00
McCabe has studied the Turkana pastoralists of
northwest Kenya since the early 1980s and most of his
fieldwork took place in the framework of the long-term
interdisciplinary research project STEP (South Turkana
Ecosystem Project). After the publication of “Turkana
Herders of the Dry Savannah” - a volume edited by
Little and Leslie in 1999 - the present book written by
McCabe is another comprehensive publication present-
ing research findings from STEP.
The text starts with the assumption that neither
Turkana pastoralists nor the arid land ecosystem they
are living in can be adequately understood by using a
traditional “ecosystem approach” with its emphasis on
systemic stability and equilibrium. A “new ecological
thinking,” which on the contrary stresses instability,
complexity, loose coupling of components, and dis-
equilibrium as crucial characteristics of ecosystems, is
considered to be more appropriate to study the reali-
ty of pastoral systems in East Africa situated in arid
circumstances that characterize most parts of Kenya’s
Turkana District. Such ecosystems are best understood
as “persistent, but nonequilibrial ecosystems” (27). The
traditional view, which has been used as a guideline for
many development projects in pastoral areas, nourished
the belief that pastoralists are inclined to overexploit the
resource base which they themselves depend on, and
thereby work to the detriment of both their habitat and
their livelihoods. According to that belief, pastoralism is
self-destructive in the long run. In stark contrast, the pro-
tagonists of the disequilibrium approach are convinced
that pastoralists’ strategies for coping with a hazardous
and uncertain environment are “highly efficient and op-
timizing” and not detrimental to the ecosystem at all.
“But do African pastoralists behave in the way predicted
by this new ecological thinking?” (38) Using empirical
data from his fieldwork, McCabe tries to answer that
question in the sequel of the book by focusing on herd
management strategies, especially on migrations, and the
related processes of decision making.
However, considering the natural environment and
the climatic conditions alone is by no means enough to
understand pastoralists properly. The way they manage
and move their herds can only be comprehended if one
also takes into account the sociopolitical environment,
the historical background, and the emic belief system.
McCabe highlights cattle raiding and warfare as the
most important sociopolitical factor affecting Turkana
pastoralists and their decision making: “Among the
Turkana, it is difficult to underestimate the degree to
which raiding and violence influence people’s lives. At
any time a herd owner could lose all his livestock,
and members of his family could be injured or killed”
(89). In chapter 5 the author provides a lucid synopsis
of the anthropological discussion of warfare in general
and livestock raiding in particular. The centrality of this
chapter is underlined by giving it the same title as the
whole book: “Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies.” Why the
author chose this particular title is revealed to the reader
at the end of the chapter: “This is a quotation from a
woman I interviewed during the late 1980s concerning
individual preference for particular livestock species. ...
Her response at once captured the essence of the tension
between environmental constraints on the one hand and
the danger of raiding on the other. She had ranked cattle
as her least-liked species, and when I asked her why, she
said, ‘Because cattle bring us to our enemies’” (105).
In the following chapters McCabe describes the de-
velopment of four Turkana households and their live-
stock herds over a period of several years and analyses
their herd management strategies, using both qualitative
and quantitative data. Mobility is seen as the major
adaptive strategy to cope with the given environmental
circumstances, and if pastoralists are acting according
to the assumptions of the disequilibrium ecologists, the
data should confirm some basic assumptions: “... then
we would expect a high degree of variability and op-
portunistic mobility patterns. Opportunistic movements,
those that take advantage of temporary patches of re-
sources and avoid hazards, should be reflected in mea-
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
637
sures of variability on an annual and seasonal basis as
well as among herd owners. One would also expect
patterning in how the environment is used under partic-
ular climatic conditions” (159). The analysis of the data
shows that: 1) the migratory patterns of the different
households are highly variable with each herder having
his own ways of migrating and managing the livestock;
and 2) the decisions of individual herd owners vary sub-
stantially from season to season and from year to year.
Besides consideration of the availability of necessary
resources, the security issue is always crucial for the
decision making.
While conceding to the new ecologists that Turkana
pastoralists do confirm their main hypotheses, in his
conclusion the author once again stresses the point that
there is more to pastoralism than adequately respond-
ing to the demands of a given natural environment,
and that the setting is much more complex: “Just as
the new ecological thinking must account for social,
political, economic, and historical factors in addition
to environmental impacts, the embedded political and
social contexts of local people’s lives must likewise be
included to effectively address critical ecological and
economic issues in pastoral development” (246).
McCabe’s book is a sound contribution to the current
anthropological debate on nomadic pastoralism in East
Africa. The theoretical reflections are up-to-date and
especially his discussion of raiding and warfare takes
very recent developments into account. The outline
of Turkana ecology, social organisation, and history
is comprehensive and the presentation of the data is
clear and understandable. A useful overview of the
anthropological discourse about both “ecology” and
“conflict” besides the key literature in both fields are
included in the volume, and in addition it contains a list
of publications by the members of the South Turkana
Ecosystem Project.
However, if one considers the fact that pastoral so-
cieties and their economies in this part of the world
have changed drastically since the 1980s, the time when
McCabe’s study took place, it would be very interesting
to see if the same theoretical approach would still remain
valid if a similar study would be carried out among
the Turkana now. Interethnic conflict, raiding, and the
extensive armament of many pastoralist groups with au-
tomatic firearms currently promote developments, which
bear extremely negative consequences for both social
systems and ecosystems, and it is evident, that such phe-
nomena can only be adequately understood if linkages
to regional, national, international, and global dynamics
are taken into consideration. McCabe’s contribution is
an important step in this direction and I, therefore, highly
recommend it to students and professionals interested in
East African pastoralists, arid lands ecology, armed con-
flict, and the problematic issue of development planning
in pastoral settings. Matthias Osterie
Mahlke, Kirsten: Offenbarung im Westen. Friihe
Berichte aus der Neuen Welt. Frankfurt: Fischer Ta-
schenbuch Verlag, 2005. 349 pp. ISBN 3-596-16235-1.
Preis: € 16.90
In der zweiten Hälfte des 16. Jhs. erschwerten Re-
ligionskriege und Zensur in Frankreich die Verbrei-
tung reformierten Schrifttums. Dies führte dazu, dass
protestantische Glaubensinhalte literarisch in verdeckter
Form vermittelt wurden, wozu auch die Reiseliteratur
diente. Die Romanistin Kirsten Mahlke beschäftigt sich
mit französischen Amerikaberichten, die in dieser Zeit
erstmals veröffentlich wurden und aus der Feder protes-
tantischer Autoren stammen. Geographisch bezieht sich
die Studie auf drei verschiedene Regionen: Florida mit
den Berichten von Jean Ribaut und René de Laudonnière
sowie Nicolas Le Challeux und Jacques Le Moyne de
Morgues, Brasilien mit dem Reisebericht des calvinis-
tischen Predigers Jean de Léry und Kanada mit dem
Bericht von Marc Lescarbot, der allerdings konfessio-
nell nicht eindeutig zuzuordnen ist. Die Autorin ist be-
strebt, den Zusammenhang zwischen Reiseliteratur und
reformiertem Schrifttum im 16. Jh. aufzudecken und die
textuellen Verfahren herauszuarbeiten, die die politisch-
religiöse Wirkung der Berichte ausmachen (12 f.). Diese
Schwerpunkte der Studie, die auf einer 2002 abgeschlos-
senen Dissertation an der Universität Frankfurt am Main
basiert, markieren die Schnittstellen von Sprach- und
Literaturwissenschaft, Ethnohistorie und Kulturwissen-
schaft. Das vielschichtige, mit differenziertem Blick ge-
schriebene Buch ist somit für verschiedene Disziplinen
von Belang und leistet einen substanziellen Beitrag zur
reflexiven Quellenkritik und Reiseliteratur Amerikas.
Die Studie ist in vier Hauptteile gegliedert. Im ersten
Teil werden die Grundlagen für die Interpretation der
Reiseberichte erarbeitet und die Hauptmerkmale von
protestantischem Schreiben und Lesen aufgezeigt. Zu
Recht legt die Autorin Wert auf die Kontextualisie-
rung der reformierten Schreibweisen und Lesarten in
den übergeordneten gesellschaftlichen Zusammenhang.
Dabei wird ein weiterer, wesentlicher Aspekt deutlich,
nämlich die “Einbindung [der Reiseliteratur] in den re-
formatorischen Kampf um die Schrift und die Wahrheit,
ihre theologische Instrumentalisierung und ihre Rele-
vanz für den Versuch der politisch-religiösen Überwin-
dung der Spaltung Frankreichs” (20). Dies wiederum
führt zur Analyse der calvinistischen Historienschrei-
bung und zur Bedeutung der Schrift als Instrument und
gleichzeitig als Indikator für Überlegenheit. Damit geht
die Entwertung der mündlichen Überlieferungen einher,
die sich sowohl auf orale Traditionen der katholischen
Kirche als auch auf indigène Kulturen bezieht.
Besonders gelungen ist die symbolische, religiöse
und soziale Deutung der Martyrologien. Sie werden
überzeugend und schlüssig in die Zeit- und Religions-
geschichte Frankreichs und in die calvinistische Weit-
sicht eingebettet. Im nächsten Schritt wird dargelegt,
wie sie sich in den Schrift- und Wortkonzeptionen der
Reiseberichte fortsetzen und konfessionelle Differenzen
offenbaren. Ebenso gelungen ist die Interpretation des
Psalmensingens als identitätsstiftende Praktik und Form
der textuellen Aneignung (65). Mit dieser Deutung leis-
tet die Autorin einen innovativen Beitrag zur Quellen-
Anthropos 101.2006
638
Rezensionen
forschung und verweist außerdem auf weiteren For-
schungsbedarf. Ihre Ausführungen über die Techniken
der vergleichenden Ethnologie hingegen sind lücken-
haft und neuere Ansätze kommen zu kurz. Verweise
auf die reflexive Ethnologie beispielweise hätten den
gegenwärtigen Stand der kulturwissenschaftlichen Dis-
kussion sowie die interkulturellen Dynamiken und deren
Wechselbeziehungen noch stärker verdeutlicht.
Der folgende Teil über die Reiseberichte von Jean
Ribaut und René de Laudonnière profitiert von der
akribischen Darstellung ihrer Begegnung mit den Ti-
mucüa und der kontextgebundenen Interpretation des
protestantischen Schreibens unter dem Vorzeichen des
Antikatholizismus. Die Autorin veranschaulicht mit gut
gewählten Beispielen, wie die Neue Welt im Kontext
der Alten interpretiert wird und unterschiedliche Welt-
bilder miteinander in Konkurrenz treten. Dies beinhaltet
auch die Selbstreflexion der Eroberer, wie am Beispiel
von Le Challeux gezeigt wird, der seinen Aufenthalt
in Flordia als Strafe Gottes, als sündhaft verschul-
detes Leid, empfindet (123), sowie Verweise auf die
Prädestinationslehre. Durch den Kulturvergleich wird
zwangsläufig die eigene Weltinterpretation relativiert.
Dies ist Voraussetzung für den “fremden” Blick auf die
eigene Gesellschaft - und diese Verfremdung der Per-
spektiven kann verschiedene Reaktionen hervorrufen,
wie etwa die bewusste Hinwendung zum Eigenen und
eine stärkere Betonung der Differenz. Diese Einsichten
werden von der Autorin angesprochen, jedoch fehlt ei-
ne fundierte Rückbindung an die theoretischen Ansätze
der gegenwartsorientierten kulturwissenschaftlichen For-
schungen.
Im Mittelpunkt des folgenden Kapitels steht die
“Histoire d’un voyage fait en la terre du Brésil” des
Calvinisten Jean de Léry, der durch seine Begegnungen
mit den Tupinambâ in Brasilien ebenfalls eine kritische
Distanz zu Europa und seiner eigenen Kultur gewinnt.
Das Motiv der verkehrten Welt, seit dem Mittelalter
ein Zeichen der Apokalypse (147), dient hier als In-
terpretationsrahmen und wird in Bezug zu Komik, Kar-
neval, Narrendarstellungen und Lachkultur des 16. Jhs.
gesetzt. In keinem anderen Teil der Studie kommen die
Gegenüberstellung, Vermischung und Verkehrung des
Eigenen und des Fremden plastischer zum Ausdruck
als in diesem Kapitel. Die Praktiken der Tupinambâ,
die als exotische Narren dargestellt werden, verbinden
sich mit denen der reformierten Christen; Werte verkeh-
ren sich und religiöse Polemik impliziert Kritik an der
französischen Gesellschaft. Die spezifischen Repräsen-
tationen der “Anderen”, sei es als Kannibalen, Nackte
oder Kahlköpfige, dienen nicht nur als Spiegelbilder des
“Eigenen”, sondern besitzen darüber hinaus identitäts-
und gemeinschaftsstiftende Wirkung. In diesem Kapitel
werden Referenzen an ethnologische Studien gemacht,
die sich kritisch mit Kannibalismus und Symbolsys-
temen befassen. Allerdings fehlen auch hier Verweise
auf Arbeiten, die sich explizit mit Repräsentationen und
Subjektivitäten auseinandersetzen, obgleich diese Dis-
kurse die Kulturwissenschaften und ihre Nachbardiszi-
plinen in den 1990er Jahren weitgehend prägten und
insbesondere für die Thematik dieser Studie von Belang
sind.
Eine andere Gewichtung erfolgt im dritten Kapitel,
das sich mit dem Bericht von Marc Lescarbot aus-
einandersetzt. Im Vordergrund steht hier die Überwin-
dung der Spaltung und der sich bereits abzeichnen-
de, neue politische Kontext in Frankreich und Europa.
Lescarbot, der sich eingehend mit der hebräischen Spra-
che, dem Judentum und der Kabbala beschäftigt hatte,
suchte nach Ursprüngen, Gemeinsamkeiten und Konti-
nuitäten des sich neu konstituierenden Frankreichs und
den Kolonien. Im Gegensatz zu den Reiseberichten aus
Florida und Brasilien vergleicht Lescarbot die indige-
ne Bevölkerung mit der französischen Nation im Hin-
blick auf die Frage nach Gleichwertigkeit. Der Suche
nach schlüssigen Erklärungen für unterschiedliche Ver-
haltensweisen und nach gemeinsamer Herkunft - oder
zumindest ebenbürtiger Abstammung der Indianer als
Nachkommen des Volkes Israels - liegt das Bestreben
zugrunde, die Kolonisierung mit friedlichen Mitteln vor-
anzutreiben.
In einem knappen Schlusskapitel überrascht die Au-
torin mit dem Bericht von Dominique de Gourgues über
seinen Rachefeldzug gegen die Spanier 1568, der sämtli-
che Merkmale des protestantischen Schreibens aufweist,
obwohl er von einem Katholiken verfasst wurde. Damit
weist die Autorin geschickt sowohl auf die Potentiale
als auch auf die Grenzen und Widersprüche der calvinis-
tischen Textinterpretation und Rezeption hin. Dennoch
wäre eine zusammenfassende Gegenüberstellung der be-
trachteten Reiseberichte an dieser Stelle wünschenswert
gewesen, um die neu gewonnenen Einsichten dieser ver-
gleichenden Studie herauszustellen. Im Anhang folgt ein
weiteres Kapitel, das mit “Literaturübersicht” betitelt ist.
Dabei handelt es sich jedoch eher um die Positionierung
der vorliegenden Studie mit Blick auf vorangegangene
Untersuchungen sowie deren Einbindung in multidis-
ziplinäre Zusammenhänge, insbesondere der “Cultural
Anthropology”. Nicht ganz nachvollziehbar ist, warum
diese Verortung erst im Anhang und nicht bereits einlei-
tend erfolgt. Abschließend sei darauf hingewiesen, dass
dieses anschaulich geschriebene Buch Amerikaberich-
te analysiert, die maßgeblich an der Konstruktion des
gängigen Indianerbildes in Europa beteiligt waren. Auch
diese Auswahl trägt zur Relevanz des Buches über die
Fachgrenzen der Romanistik hinaus bei.
Eveline Dürr
Martin, Jeannett: “Been-To”, “Burger”, “Transmi-
granten?” Zur Bildungsmigration von Ghanaern und
ihrer Rückkehr aus der Bundesrepublik Deutschland.
Münster; Lit Verlag, 2005. 329 pp. ISBN 3-8258-8079-
6. (Beiträge zur Afrikaforschung, 22) Preis; € 24.90
Die vorliegende Publikation der Dissertationsschrift
“Been-To, Burger, Transmigranten? Zur Bildungsmigra-
tion von Ghanaern und ihrer Rückkehr aus der Bun-
desrepublik Deutschland” von Jeannett Martin liefert
einen Beitrag zur Remigrationsforschung im Kontext
der Nord-Süd-Migration. Die Autorin untersucht die
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
639
Rückkehrprozesse ghanaischer Bildungsmigranten an-
hand biographischer Interviews. In diesem Zusammen-
hang stellt sie heraus, wie die Rückkehrentscheidungen
der Migranten maßgeblich von einem Wunsch nach so-
zialer Anerkennung und Statuserwerb im Herkunftsland
motiviert werden, dessen Verwirklichung allerdings von
sich wandelnden sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Bedin-
gungen abhängt.
Der erste Teil des Buches beinhaltet eine Einführung
in die Thematik. Der knappe Theorieteil des Buches
wird um einen sorgfältigen Methodenteil ergänzt, in dem
die Autorin Rechenschaft über die Auswahl ihrer For-
schungsmethoden und ihre empirische Vorgehensweisen
ablegt. Martins Studie basiert hauptsächlich auf der Aus-
wertung von narrativen biographischen Interviews mit
45 ghanaischen Remigranten.
Im zweiten Teil gibt die Autorin einen Überblick
über die Wanderungsgeschichte Ghanas von den vorko-
lonialen Bevölkerungsbewegungen zur kolonialen Ar-
beitsmigration bis hin zu den Massenauswanderungen
der letzten Jahrzehnte. Im Kontext internationaler Bil-
dungsmigration von Ghanaern hebt sie die Bedeutung
der Einführung eines staatlichen Stipendiensystems für
den Anstieg der Auslandsstudierendenzahlen in den
1950er und 1960er Jahren hervor. In diesem Zusam-
menhang sind auch die ersten ghanaischen Bildungsmi-
granten nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg nach Deutschland
gekommen. Insgesamt variierte die Anzahl ghanaischer
Studierender in Westdeutschland bzw. dem wiederverei-
nigten Deutschland zwischen minimal 22 (1956/57) und
maximal 519 (1993/94).
Nachdem Martin im dritten Teil des Buches vier
exemplarisch ausgewählte Rückkehrerbiographien aus
unterschiedlichen Altersgruppen vorstellt, unterscheidet
sie im vierten Teil der Arbeit drei Generationen von
Rückkehrern (1951-1971, 1972-1983, 1984 bis in die
Gegenwart). Sie argumentiert, dass die sozialen und
wirtschaftlichen Bedingungen der Rückkehr nach Gha-
na in den jeweiligen Zeitabschnitten variierten. In der
Konfrontation der Migranten mit den jeweiligen his-
torischen Umständen bildeten sich sehr verschiedenar-
tige Erfahrungen der Rückkehr heraus, aufgrund de-
rer sich Rückkehrergenerationen unterscheiden lassen.
Martin betont, dass die frühen Bildungsremigranten,
vor allem jene, die vor 1960 zurückgekehrt waren, auf
günstige Bedingungen in Ghana stießen. Das geringe
Angebot an Akademikern stand einer steigenden Nach-
frage in einem expandierenden Staatssektor gegenüber.
In diesem Zusammenhang entwickelte sich die soziale
Figur des “Been-To” - eines idealtypischen Bildungs-
migranten, der aufgrund seines Bildungsaufenthaltes im
Ausland ein hohes Sozialprestige, einen angesehenen
Beruf mit hohem Einkommen und einen weitläufigen
Habitus erreichen konnte. In den folgenden Jahrzehnten
wurde aber im Zuge der wirtschaftlichen und politischen
Entwicklungen Ghanas die Annahme der Kovariation
dieser Variablen immer problematischer. Viele der aka-
demischen Rückkehrer seit den 1970er Jahren erlebten,
bezogen auf den Idealtypus des “Been-To”, temporäre
oder dauerhafte Statusinkonsistenzen.
Im fünften Teil des Buches konzentriert sich die
Autorin auf die Personengruppe, die nach 1984 zurück-
gekehrt ist, und stellt die empirischen Ergebnisse auf-
gegliedert nach verschiedenen thematischen Bereichen
vor. Dabei reicht das Spektrum von Schilderung der
Lebenssituation in Deutschland, über Motive der Rück-
kehr, Fremdheitserfahrungen in Ghana, Erwartungen an
die Migranten seitens ihrer Verwandten, geschlechts-
spezifische Erfahrungen bis hin zu den Wohnformen der
Rückkehrer. Martin arbeitet deutlich heraus, wie viel
schwieriger die Situation für diese letzte Generation von
Bildungsmigranten, verglichen mit der der frühen Rück-
kehrer geworden ist. In Deutschland hatten sie unter
der sich in den 1980er und 1990er Jahren ausbreitenden
Fremdenfeindlichkeit zu leiden, und bei ihrer Rückkehr
nach Ghana erwies sich ein akademischer Abschluss im
Ausland keinesfalls mehr als hinreichende Bedingung
für eine Karriere und eine wirtschaftlich abgesicherte
Existenz. Martin betont aber, dass die höhere gesell-
schaftlich Akzeptanz der Migranten in Ghana sowie
die Abwesenheit rassistischer Diskriminierung für viele
eine wesentlicher Grund für die Rückkehr war, für die
sie teilweise bewusst ökonomische Nachteile in Kauf
genommen haben.
In der Erfahrung der Migranten erweist sich die
Rückkehr als ein langfristiger Prozess, der oft in soziale,
wirtschaftliche und kognitive Akkomodation mündet,
aber von zwischenzeitlichen Ängsten und Unsicherhei-
ten bezüglich der Richtigkeit der Remigrationsentschei-
dung begleitet wird. In diesem Zusammenhang stellt
Martin den interessanten Punkt heraus, dass die Rück-
kehr nicht in eine vollständige Auflösung der Differenz
der Migranten vom Rest der ghanaischen Gesellschaft
mündet. Vielmehr heben die Rückkehrer die Beibehal-
tung einer sozialen Differenz, die auf den Auslands-
aufenthalt zurückgeführt wird, hervor. Sie erweist sich
allerdings als ambivalent. Einerseits kann sie von den
Rückkehrern als kulturelles Kapital und Distinktions-
geste gegenüber einer “bloß” lokalen Bevölkerung ver-
wendet werden. Andererseits können sich relevante An-
dere gegen den Willen und die Interessen der Migranten
auf diese soziale Differenz beziehen. Martin betont in
diesem Sinn auch an späterer Stelle, dass die paral-
lel zum Assimilationsansatz der Migrationsforschung
entwickelten Stufenmodelle der Remigrationsforschung
fälschlicherweise von einem endgültigen Gelingen von
gesellschaftlicher Reintegration und einem Auflösen der
Differenz zur Herkunftsgesellschaft ausgehen. Sie be-
schreibt hingegen empirisch, wie sich die soziale Dif-
ferenz der Remigranten, die sich über das Studium
im Ausland generiert, in ihren Biographien als sozial
wirksame Identität fortschreibt, ohne dass damit ein
Scheitern des Remigrationsprojektes verbunden wäre.
Die extensive Strategie der Dissertation, ein breites
Spektrum an empirischen Themen darzustellen, geht
mitunter auf Kosten analytischer und theoretischer In-
tensität. So zum Beispiel findet die Problematik von
Statuskonsistenzerwartungen bzw. Statusinkonsistenzer-
fahrungen, die sowohl für die Migranten selbst von
zentraler Bedeutung zu sein scheinen als auch für die
Anthropos 101.2006
640
Rezensionen
soziale Figur des “Been-To”, an der Martin sich ab-
arbeitet, keine theoretische Reflektion in der Arbeit.
Ein anderer Punkt, der in den Interviewanalysen zwar
angesprochen, aber m. E. nicht weit genug verfolgt
wird, ist das konfliktträchtige Verhältnis zwischen den
Rückkehrern und ihren erweiterten Familien in Ghana.
Dabei übersieht Martin insbesondere, dass sowohl die
Explikation von Erwartungen der Verwandten als auch
die Abgrenzung von diesen durch die Rückkehrer Tei-
le eines sozialen Aushandlungsprozesses sind, in dem
das Verhältnis von individueller Unabhängigkeit und
verwandtschaftlicher Verpflichtung erst bestimmt wird.
Problematisch erscheint mir darüber hinaus, dass die
Autorin den eigenen Anspruch, Erzähltopoi (295) zu
identifizieren oder das “Erzählen über die Rückkehr”
(182) selbst zum Thema zu machen, m. E. nur an einer
Stelle ernsthaft einlöst. In diesem Zusammenhang ver-
weist sie auf den interessanten Aspekt, dass Männer und
Frauen unterschiedliche Aspekte in ihren Erzählungen
über die Rückkehr in den Vordergrund rücken (237).
Zumeist verwendet die Autorin die Interviews in ihren
Analysen als Repräsentationen einer externen Realität.
Die Art und Weise der Beschreibungen und die von den
Migranten gewählten sozial konstituierten Topoi, die
benutzt werden, um die eigene Lebenserfahrung in For-
men zu gießen, bleiben hingegen meist unberücksich-
tigt. In diesem Zusammenhang wäre zum Beispiel die
Frage interessant gewesen, inwieweit der Sozialtypus
des “Been-To” nicht nur eine idealtypische Abstraktion
konkreter historischer Bedingungen ist, sondern auch ein
Modell narrativer Selbstrepräsentation liefert.
Die große Stärke von Jeannett Martins Studie zur
Rückkehr ghanaischer Bildungsmigranten ist sicherlich
die Nähe zum empirischen Material. Die ausführlich
zitierten Interviews geben den Stimmen und Sichtwei-
sen “der Betroffenen” viel Raum und vermitteln ein
lebensnahes Bild der Situation der Rückkehrer. Auch
gelingt es der Autorin eine Vielzahl von Problemen und
Aspekten, die für die ghanaischen Bildungsremigranten
relevant sind, analytisch zu identifizieren und darzu-
stellen. Martins Verweis auf den sozioökonomischen
Kontext, in dem die Rückkehr stattfindet, ihre Kritik an
den teleologischen Stufenmodellen der Remigrationsfor-
schung und ihre allgemeinen Überlegungen zu Remigra-
tion in Nord-Süd-Zusammenhängen führen dabei über
den Rahmen einer bloßen Beschreibung des empirischen
Einzelfalles hinaus. Teile des Erkenntnis generierenden
Potentials ihrer Daten bleiben aber dadurch ungenutzt,
dass die identifizierten Themen teilweise analytisch und
theoretisch nicht genügend aufgearbeitet werden bzw.
eine Debatte herangezogen wird, wie die Transnationa-
lismusdiskussion in der Migrationsforschung, die nicht
besonders gut zum empirischen Material passt.
Boris Nies wand
Miedema, Jelle, and Ger Reesink: One Head, Many
Faces. New Perspectives on the Bird’s Head Peninsula
of New Guinea. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2004. 220 pp.
ISBN 90-6718-229-X. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
lijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, 219)
Price: € 30.00
Anthropologically, the Indonesian New Guinea prov-
ince of Irian Jay a is much less well-known than is
its eastern neighbor, Papua New Guinea. Among the
regions that had been studied the least is the Bird’s Head
Peninsula of the northwest. That all changed, begin-
ning in 1991, when the massively ambitious Irian Jaya
Studies project (ISIR) was initiated at the University
of Leiden as a multidisciplinary, joint Indonesian-Dutch
research effort. The following years would see a host
of field researchers covering the peninsula, represent-
ing Anthropology, Archaeology, Botany, Demography,
Development Administration, Geology, and Linguistics.
(The only other recent research program that has come
close to ISIR’s ambitions and contributions was the
German interdisciplinary “Man, Culture, and Environ-
ment in the Central Mountains of West New Guinea”
project of the 1970s and 1980s in the region of the Mek
languages of Irian Jaya.) Extensive searches of archival
records in Indonesia and the Netherlands complemented
the efforts of the fieldworkers and a huge literature
has now emerged, including over 1,600 pages of new
information in three edited collections alone.
Jelle Miedema and Ger Reesink, two of the senior
leaders of ISIR, have now performed a very valuable
service by producing a “synthesis of the present state
of knowledge on the Bird’s Head Peninsula,” and “a
detailed comparison of different regions” (3). In a
volume this slim, of course, a comprehensive synthesis
is impossible, but it serves as an excellent overview of
some of the main themes and patterns that have been
discovered.
Following a general introduction by Miedema, Ree-
sink provides an overview of the geography and early
settlement of the peninsula, which goes back at least
26,000 years. It is not unlikely that the Bird’s Head was
a landing area much earlier, when the first colonists of
New Guinea arrived from the west.
Reesink then surveys the languages, of which 23
are spoken. While the languages “show a mixture of
typological features that can be typified as either Aus-
tronesian or Papuan,” the Bird’s Head nevertheless “can
be characterized as a linguistic area or Sprachbund”
(40), with the East Bird’s Head and West Bird’s Head as
distinct genetically related groups, with four languages
in the central peninsula apparently isolates. In a later
chapter Reesink discusses language and identity, espe-
cially in terms of pressure from Indonesian, the national
language, in the face of which several indigenous lan-
guages are losing most of their younger speakers.
In addition to the general introduction, Miedema
provides four chapters. Focusing on the western side
of the peninsula, he surveys issues of land, exchange,
and change, finding that the view of land as “sacred
object” - strongly held by some only three decades
ago - is rapidly changing to one that stresses land as a
commodity.
Miedema gives most of his attention to “knowledge
systems,” which also have been changing in the past few
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
decades. He identifies some common themes in myths
across the peninsula (about which he has published
much previously) and offers a fascinating discussion
of witchcraft and adat (“custom”), drawing on several
areas to show considerable variation and, again, a dy-
namic arena for change. Finally, in considering issues
of culture and identity, Miedema finds much the same
situation as Reesink did with language: considerable im-
pacts on “tribal” identity due to increasing participation
in national institutions.
The two authors have cowritten two chapters. The
first is on kinship, exchange, and change, sketching
the kinship systems of nine of the language groups,
all of which show major changes in progress due to
changing marriage rules throughout the peninsula. The
book concludes with the authors’ overview of the “main
findings” so far from the ISIR project and suggestions
for further field research in the area.
All of these chapters are clearly written and useful
as brief glimpses into the wealth of new information
that has been amassed over the past few decades. Some
readers will probably miss any substantial coverage of
subsistence economics, political leadership, and other
topics given little attention here. However, as pointed
out above, the published literature on the Bird’s Head is
now enormous, and this gives a good introduction to it.
Terence E. Hays
Niehof, Anke, and Firman Lubis (eds.): Two Is
Enough. Family Flanning in Indonesia under the New
Order 1968-1998. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2003. 281 pp.
ISBN 90-6718-197-8. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
lijk Instituut for Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, 204)
Price: € 30.00
Das indonesische Programm zur Geburtenkontrol-
le und Familienplanung, das unter der Regierung des
ehemaligen Präsidenten Soeharto implementiert und im
gesamten Archipel durchgesetzt wurde, gehört zu den
erfolgreichsten der Welt. Seit Mitte der 1960er Jah-
re sind sowohl die Geburtenrate als auch die Kinder-
und Müttersterblichkeit in Indonesien drastisch gesun-
ken. Diese Entwicklung steht in Zusammenhang mit
der Entwicklung eines neuen Familienbildes, das nicht
mehr auf der Idee “banyak anak, banyak rezeki”, “viele
Kinder, viel Segen”, basiert, sondern die Beschränkung
auf zwei Kinder als Weg zu Gesundheit und Wohlstand
propagiert. “Dua anak cukup”, “zwei Kinder sind ge-
nug”, lautete der Slogan nationaler Familienplaner, und
dies ist auch der Titel des vorliegenden Sammelbandes
von Anke Niehof und Firman Lubis. Beide Herausgeber
sind seit vielen Jahren mit dem Thema befasst, haben
empirische Untersuchungen dazu durchgeführt, waren
an der Konzeption und Evaluierung von Programmen
beteiligt und lehren dazu an ihren Universitäten: Firman
Lubis an der Universitas Indonesia in Jakarta und Anke
Niehof an der Universität Wageningen in den Niederlan-
den. Der Sturz Soehartos im Jahr 1998 und die danach
einsetzende Zäsur dienten den beiden Herausgebern als
Anlass, sich dezidiert mit der Familienpolitik der “Or-
641
de Barn”, der “Neuen Ordnung”, auseinanderzusetzen
und ein vorläufiges Resümee zu ziehen. Zwölf weitere
Expertinnen und Experten aus Wissenschaft und Pra-
xis konnten gewonnen werden, Beiträge zur Geschichte
und Gegenwart sowie zum Entwurf und der Umsetzung
dieses Teils der indonesischen Politik zu schreiben.
Die Idee von Familienplanung und Geburtenkontrol-
le stand im postkolonialen Indonesien nicht von Anfang
an auf der politischen Agenda, sondern entwickelte sich
nur langsam und gegen lokale Widerstände. Zwar wurde
bereits während der Kolonialzeit, wie Terence Hüll in
seinem Aufsatz ausführt, von Wissenschaftlern besorgt
darauf hingewiesen, dass das Bevölkerungswachstum
auf Java kritische Dimensionen angenommen habe, doch
es sollte noch viele Jahre dauern, bis erste Maßnahmen
dagegen unternommen wurden. Nach dem Erreichen
der Unabhängigkeit Indonesiens war Überbevölkerung
zunächst kein Thema, dem Relevanz zugemessen wurde.
Soekamo, der erste Präsident der Republik, lehnte alle
Maßnahmen zur demografischen Regulierung ab, ja, er
strebte sogar eine Verdoppelung der Bevölkerung an,
um Indonesien zu einer großen und mächtigen Nation zu
machen. Die junge Mutter zahlreicher Kinder wurde von
ihm als Sinnbild von Schönheit und nationaler Stärke
gefeiert.
Solita Sarwono zeigt in ihrem Aufsatz, wie sich In-
dividuen und kleinere Gruppen trotz dieser ungünstigen
Rahmenbedingungen für eine Veränderung der Verhält-
nisse engagierten, wie sie in Krankenhäusern Informa-
tionen für Frauen anboten, die zu Risikoschwanger-
schaften neigten, und Vorschläge für die Verbesserung
der Gesundheit von Müttern und Kindern entwickelten.
Auf Grundlage dieser Initiativen und auch durch In-
terventionen ausländischer Experten, die zähe Überzeu-
gungsarbeit bei Soekamo leisteten, gelang es bereits im
Jahr 1957, die erste indonesische Familienplanungsein-
richtung zu etablieren, obgleich eine solche Institution
der offiziellen Regierungspolitik entgegenlief.
Nach dem Amtsantritt Präsident Soehartos änderten
sich die politischen Leitlinien und Familienplanung
wurde, wie Firman Lubis in seinem Beitrag darlegt, zu
einem wichtigen Bestandteil des nationalen Entwick-
lungsplanes. Statistiken hatten gezeigt, dass das zag-
hafte wirtschaftliche Wachstum durch die Zunahme der
Bevölkemng um jährlich 2,8 % ernsthaft bedroht, ja
sogar in sein Gegenteil verkehrt wurde. Eine staatli-
che Steuerung der demografischen Entwicklung wurde
als unumgänglich angesehen. Aus diesem Grund wurde
im Jahr 1968 ein nationales Familienplanungsinstitut
(Lembaga Keluarga Berencana Nasional) geschaffen,
das eng mit der wichtigsten Behörde für den Auf-
bau des Landes (Badan Perencacaan dan Pembangunan
Nasional) kooperieren sollte. Pilotprogramme zur Ge-
burtenkontrolle wurden auf Java und Bali und später
auch auf den so genannten Außeninseln implementiert,
teilweise mit großem Erfolg, teilweise aber auch ge-
gen den Widerstand der lokalen Bevölkerung, die darin
“ethnische Vernichtung” vermutete. Solche Mutmaßun-
gen wurden v.a. in Osttimor und Irian Jaya geäußert,
zwei randständigen Regionen, die von indonesischem
Anthropos 101.2006
642
Rezensionen
Militär mit Gewalt in den Nationalstaat eingegliedert
wurden und nach Unabhängigkeit strebten. Widerstand
kam jedoch nicht nur von den Grenzgebieten des In-
selreiches, sondern auch aus seiner Mitte, von Musli-
men, die mit den staatlich verordneten Methoden der
Schwangerschaftsverhütung unzufrieden waren und die
Verantwortung für die Größe einer Familie grundsätzlich
als Angelegenheit Gottes definierten.
Entwicklungsvorhaben in nichtwestlichen Ländern
erfahren in der Regel Unterstützung durch ausländi-
sche Geldgeber und Spezialisten. Dies trifft auch für
das indonesische Familienplanungsprogramm zu. David
Piet wendet sich in seinem Artikel den wichtigsten Fi-
nanciers zu und analysiert, welchen Einfluss USAID,
verschiedene niederländische Organisationen, die Welt-
bank und der United Nations Population Fund ausübten.
Komplementär untersucht Ninuk Widyantoro die Ar-
beit ausgewählter indonesischer NGOs, u. a. die Klinik
Wisma Panca Warga, die von medizinischen Experten
gegründet wurde, um Schwangerschaftsabbrüche und
andere Maßnahmen in einer respektvollen und den
Patientinnen zugewandten Atmosphäre durchzuführen.
Ninuk Widyantoro, die selbst einer NGO vorsteht, der
Women’s Health Foundation, die sich für sichere Ab-
treibungen einsetzt, kritisiert die Monopolstellung der
staatlichen Familienplanungsbehörde. Sie habe bei ihrer
Aufgabe, verschiedene Initiativen und Maßnahmen zu
koordinieren, versagt und die NGOs schlicht verges-
sen. Anke Niehof und Firman Lubis steuern weitere
empirische Beispiele bei; Eines davon ist ihr eigenes
gemeinsames interdisziplinäres Forschungs- und Trai-
ningsprojekt, das sie von 1970 bis 1975 in Westjava
durchführten. Das andere ist das Pioniermodell Bali,
an dem schon früh die Bedingungen für eine erfolg-
reiche demografische Politik studiert werden konnten.
Karen Hardee, Elizabeth Eggleston, Siti Hidayati Amal
und Terence Hüll stellen ebenfalls ein Projekt vor: das
Women’s Studies Project, das von 1993 bis 1999 von
“Family Health International” in North Carolina durch-
geführt wurde und einen Vergleich mehrerer asiatischer,
afrikanischer und südamerikanischer Länder beinhaltet.
Gavin Jones richtet den Blick auf die Kontextualisie-
rung von Familienplanung im weiteren Rahmen natio-
naler demografischer und ökonomischer Entwicklung.
Er macht deutlich, dass Indonesiens Bevölkerungsex-
plosion erst im 20. Jh. stattfand, dass die Population zu
Beginn des Jahrhunderts noch 40 Millionen, 1960 aber
bereits 97 Millionen betrug und sich seitdem mehr als
verdoppelt hat. Seit der Implementierung der nationalen
Maßnahmen, belegt er mit eindrucksvollen Daten, ist
diese Entwicklung allerdings zum Stillstand gekommen.
Familienplanung und Geburtenkontrolle sind in ihrer
Umsetzung vor allen eine Angelegenheit von Frauen.
Frauen entscheiden zu verhüten, abzutreiben oder Kin-
der zu gebären und sind diejenigen, die die Konse-
quenzen tragen müssen. Sie sind die Opfer der hohen
Müttersterblichkeit, leiden nach Geburten unter Infek-
tionen und anderen gesundheitlichen Beeinträchtigungen
und sind grundsätzlich in besonderem Maß von sexuell
übertragbaren Krankheiten betroffen. Maßnahmen von
privaten oder staatlichen Organisationen im Bereich Re-
produktion tangieren jedoch ein sensibles Feld. Weib-
liche Sexualität ist eng mit der Rolle von Frauen in der
Gesellschaft verknüpft und steht in engem Zusammen-
hang zum Lebensentwurf der Betroffenen. Anke Niehof
greift diese Verflechtungen des Individuellen und Ge-
sellschaftlichen auf und stellt Veränderungen weiblicher
Existenzbedingungen dar, angefangen vom steigenden
Heiratsalter über weibliche Berufstätigkeit, die herr-
schende Ideologie, die Frausein durch Hausfrauendasein
und Mutterschaft definiert, bis zu der Bedeutung von
Modernisierung und gesellschaftlicher Transformation.
Sie konstatiert einen “gemischten Segen”, der Frauen
zwar einerseits größere Handlungsspielräume für die
Gestaltung des Lebens garantiert, andererseits aber auch
mit vermehrten Risiken behaftet ist - u. a. durch die
sinkende Zahl der Kinder, die sich potentiell im Alter
um sie kümmern können. Inwieweit Familienplanung
mit reproduktiver Gesundheit gekoppelt ist, untersuchen
Nancy Piet-Pelon, Setyawati Budiningsih und Joedo
Prihartono. Hier geht es um Abtreibungen, um Mütter-
sterblichkeit und um Frauengesundheit im Weitesten.
Einige eindrucksvolle Statistiken, die dem Aufsatz zu-
grunde liegen, belegen, dass das gesamte Programm
letztendlich, wenngleich Kritik an seiner autoritären
Durchsetzung berechtigt ist, ein großer Erfolg war.
Der Sammelband gibt einen guten Überblick über
demografische Entwicklungen, Familien- und Gesund-
heitsprogramme und ihre Einbindung in die nationale
Politik und Ökonomie der Soeharto-Ära. Sehr gelun-
gen ist die Dokumentation durch statistisches Material,
anhand dessen Entwicklungslinien plastisch verdeutlicht
werden.
Etwas ärgerlich ist allerdings, dass im ersten Teil
des Buches, in dem die historischen Grundlagen dar-
gelegt werden, dieselben Sachverhalte oft in mehre-
ren Aufsätzen wiederholt werden und die gleichen Ab-
handlungen in unterschiedlicher Detailgetreue zu lesen
sind. Eine Absprache der Autorinnen und Autoren bzw.
ein inhaltliches Lektorat hätte geholfen, solche Doppel-
lungen zu vermeiden und diese Grundlagentexte etwas
stringenter zu gestalten. Abgesehen davon ist es den
Autoren und Autorinnen aber gelungen, ein wichtiges
Thema umfassend darzustellen und so ein Grundlagen-
werk zur indonesischen Familienplanung in der “Orde
Bam” zu verfassen. Susanne Schröter
Polak, Rainer: Festmusik als Arbeit, Trommeln als
Beruf. Jenbe-Spieler in einer westafrikanischen Groß-
stadt. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2004. 364 pp.,
CD-ROM. ISBN 3-496-02771-1. Preis: € 39.00
Edward E. Evans-Pritchard hob stets hervor, dass
seine wegweisende Studie über Hexerei, Orakel und
Magie bei den Zande in der Republik Sudan nur deshalb
hat entstehen können, weil er selbst als Lehrling die
Techniken des Orakels und der Magie erlernt hatte. In
diese große Tradition der Ethnographie reiht sich Rainer
Polak mit seiner Studie über die Festmusiker in Bamako
ein. Er selbst hat nicht nur über Jahre hinweg die ver-
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
643
schiedenen komplizierten Schlagtechniken und Rhyth-
men erlernt, sondern diese auch auf zahlreichen Festen
öffentlich zur Ausführung gebracht. Selbst Experte in
der Aufführungspraxis der Jenbe-Musik, gewann der
Autor einen ungewöhnlich präzisen und lebensnahen
Einblick in Alltag und Beruf der Musiker in einem
Ortsviertel der malischen Hauptstadt Bamako.
Das Thema seiner hier zu besprechenden Monogra-
phie ist aber nicht lediglich die Darstellung der Jenbe-
Musik und der Musiker, ihrer sozialen und berufli-
chen Organisation und der Hochzeitsfeste als wichtigste
öffentliche Anlässe der Darbietung dieser Musik. Das
Ziel seiner Darstellung geht darüber hinaus, indem er
sehr genau den Wandel der Festmusik im Hinblick auf
Veränderungen des Musikstils selbst als auch in Be-
zug auf die zunehmende Kommerzialisierung betrachtet.
Polaks zentrale These ist dabei, dass die Aufführungs-
praxis es nahe legt, die Musik als eine im informellen
Sektor erbrachte Dienstleistung aufzufassen. Tatsächlich
wird sie von den Musikern zunächst als Broterwerb
betrachtet. Durch die zwangsläufig eintretende Ökono-
misierung verändert sich das Verhältnis gegenüber den
Auftraggebern (den Festorganisatoren) und auch zwi-
schen den Musikern, die sich zunehmend als Konkur-
renten verstehen. Den damit angesprochenen Wandel
der Jenbe-Musik, der als eigentliches Thema der Studie
aufzufassen ist, subsumiert Polak unter dem Begriff der
Urbanisierung. Er betont, dass weder Modernisierung
noch Kommerzialisierung als mögliche und naheliegen-
de theoretische Paradigmen in der Lage sind, den von
ihm konstatierten Wandel hinreichend zu beschreiben.
Seine Kenntnisse entfaltet Polak in insgesamt 5 Ka-
piteln, denen ein kurzes, an die übergeordnete theo-
retische Diskussion anknüpfendes Schlusskapitel folgt.
Das erste dieser Kapitel führt in seine ethnographische
Methode ein und stellt den Aufbau der Arbeit vor. Im
zweiten Kapitel umreißt Polak die Trommelform der
Jenbe als Objekt materieller Kultur und ihre Geschichte,
erläutert sodann vor dem Hintergrund der Entstehung
der Stadt Bamako die historische Entwicklung dieser
Musik und den rituellen Rahmen, also die einzelnen
Phasen der Hochzeitsfeste, bei denen diese Musik heu-
te zur Aufführung gelangt. Die verschiedenen Anlässe
innerhalb der komplexen Feststruktur einer Hochzeit,
bei denen Jenbe-Musik vom Gastgeber zu organisieren
ist, und die Art und Weise, mit der Musiker darauf
reagieren, bezeichnet Polak als “urbane Festkultur”. Der
diesem Thema gewidmete Abschnitt (79-109) ist des-
halb von zentraler und übergeordneter Bedeutung, da
hier die Grundlagen für die detaillierten Darstellungen
in den darauf folgenden Kapiteln ausgeführt werden.
Das dritte Kapitel ist der musikethnologischen Ana-
lyse gewidmet. Es geht dabei um die Rollen der ein-
zelnen Instrumente in den aus Dunun- und Jenbe-
Trommeln bestehenden Ensembles, die in der Regel
aus 3-5, mindestens aber aus 2 Instrumenten gebildet
werden. Die einzelnen Trommelrhythmen werden be-
nannt und charakterisiert, sowie die Haltung der Instru-
mente beschrieben, beziehungsweise die Körperhaltung
während des Spiels, das alle Kraft und Konzentration
des Musikers erfordert. Polak hebt hervor, dass sich
insbesondere das durchschnittliche Tempo, in dem die
Rhythmen aufgeführt werden, und die Größe der Ensem-
bles in den letzten 40 Jahren verändert haben. Während
die Musik in jüngster Zeit immer schneller wird, bis
hin zu “rasenden” Tempi, wie Polak es nennt, nimmt
die Ensemblegröße zu, da nur durch einen häufigeren
Wechsel zwischen Begleit- und Hauptstimme die neue
Aufführungsart zu realisieren ist.
Im vierten Kapitel erfährt der Leser mehr über die
Sicht der Musiker auf ihre Arbeit und ihr Verhältnis
untereinander. Nach Polak lässt sich die Gruppe der
Musiker in dem von ihm näher untersuchten Stadtviertel
Bamakos (in Badialan) in Generationen mit je eigenem
Verständnis von Professionalität unterteilen. Im Kontext
angespannter ökonomischer Rahmenbedingungen wer-
den die Generationengrenzen auch anhand von Kon-
kurrenz und selektiver Kooperation zwischen Musikern
erkennbar. Beides ist damit zu begründen, dass Musi-
ker zwar individuell Aufträge erhalten, aber für deren
Ausführung auf die Kooperation eines Ensembles ange-
wiesen sind. Für die heterogene Gruppe von Musikern
verwendet Polak den Begriff des “Verbunds”, in dem
gleichermaßen gegenseitiges Misstrauen und Zusam-
menarbeit und darüber hinaus auch ein professionelles
Selbstverständnis herrschen. Polak diskutiert in diesem
Kapitel im Einzelnen, wie das Handeln der Musiker
im Hinblick auf deren Ökonomie, Kommerzialität und
Effizienz zu beurteilen ist.
Das fünfte Kapitel versucht einen zusammenfassen-
den Überblick über die Faktoren des Wandels. Hier
wird anhand anschaulicher Schilderungen deutlich, wie
die Beurteilung musikalischer Qualität zur Erlangung
von Aufträgen führt und wie die Konflikte zwischen
den Generationen der Musiker ausgetragen werden. In
diesem Kapitel interpretiert Polak nochmals den Wandel
des Musikstils als Ergebnis von Wettbewerb zwischen
den Musikern und deren Bemühen, durch Innovation
gegenüber der Konkurrenz Vorteile zu erlangen.
Polak schließt im sechsten Kapitel mit einer Kritik
an der bisherigen Interpretation populärer Musik im
urbanen Kontext als “traditionell” oder “dörflich”. Er
betont die Entstehung eines eigenen urbanen Stils, der
nicht einfach als “modern” zu bezeichnen ist. Diese
Eigenständigkeit dieses neuen urbanen Stils begründet
sich in ganz spezifischen Kontexten, aus denen heraus
er entstanden ist und sich stetig weiterentwickelt. Nicht
zuletzt verweist Polak auf das Empfinden der Musiker,
die ihre Musik als eigenen “Bamakoer” Stil empfin-
den. Polaks Studie wird ergänzt durch eine Reihe von
Anhängen (Biographien einiger Musiker, Namen von
Trommelrhythmen, der Erläuterung von “Rhythmus-
Clustern” und Protokollen von Festabläufen mit den
jeweils gespielten Rhythmen, sowie Sach-, Repertoire-
und Personenregistern.
Polak bezieht mit seiner Studie ganz eindeutig Stel-
lung. Dies gilt nicht nur im Hinblick auf seine Kritik an
der seines Erachtens bislang unzureichenden Beschäfti-
gung mit populärer Musik als Dienstleistung und “Musik
als Ware”, sondern noch mehr im Hinblick auf seine
Anthropos 101.2006
644
Rezensionen
Perspektive auf das von ihm ethnographisch beschriebe-
ne Geschehen. Seine Perspektive ist ganz offensichtlich
die der Trommler, mit denen er lebte und von denen
er als einer der Ihren anerkannt wurde. Die Bewertung
und Kontextualisierung der Jenbe-Musik erfolgt aber
durchaus auch durch die wichtigsten Rezipienten, die
Frauen, die als Gäste, Sängerinnen und Tänzerinnen an
den Festen teilnehmen. Aus dem umfassenden Korpus
von insgesamt 434 Festen, die Polak statistisch erfasst
und ausgewertet hat, ragt eine Vielzahl von Festen
hervor, die Polak auch als Beispiel für das Gelingen
oder Misslingen der Interaktion zwischen Trommlern
und anderen Festteilnehmem heranzieht. Polak selbst ist
auf über 70 Festen als Musiker aufgetreten, und seine
Berichte bezeugen eine genaue Kenntnis der diffizilen
Interaktion zwischen den Beteiligten im Verlauf eines
Festes. Im Verlauf dieser Feste geht es immer wieder
darum, die Stimmung der Tänzerinnen zu heben, aber
sie auch nicht zu überhitzen, um allen eine Gelegenheit
zum Auftritt zu geben. Trotz der genauen Schilderun-
gen bleibt Polaks Bericht der Perspektive der Trommler
soweit verhaftet, dass er die Sicht der Frauen nur in
Bruchstücken erkennbar macht. Gerade hier hätte sich
die Chance auf eine Darstellung über die Geschlechter
hinweg ergeben. Offensichtlich gehört es zu den Kenn-
zeichen der Jenbe-Festmusik, dass sie von Männern
aufgeführt aber von Frauen rezipiert wird. Was bedeutet
dies für das Verhältnis der Geschlechter im Kontext der
Aufführung?
Noch eine zweite inhaltliche Ergänzung erscheint
wünschenswert. So ist zu erfahren, dass manche Festmu-
siker auch Engagements am malischen Nationalballett
haben und einige von ihnen bei örtlichen Ballettgruppen
mitarbeiten. Wechselwirkungen zur Festmusik ergeben
sich hier zwangsweise, wie Polak erkennen lässt. Jenbe-
Musiker interessieren sich auch für Radiosendungen
über und mit Jenbe-Musik und kennen international
produzierte CDs. Polak erwähnt sogar, dass einzelne
Musiker europäische Privatschüler unterrichten und sehr
konkrete Vorstellungen von europäischen Tourneen ha-
ben, von denen sie sich einen großen ökonomischen
Gewinn versprechen. Jedoch wäre hier auch zu fragen:
Welche Auswirkungen haben das Wissen und die Hoff-
nungen auf internationale Anerkennung für die Musiker?
Jenbe-Musik ist längst Teil der Weltmusik. Wie wird
diese Rolle von den Musikern in Bamako reflektiert?
Diese Fragen zeigen spontane Interessen des Re-
zensenten an und sollen nicht den Wert des Buches
schmälern. Jede gelungene ethnographische Studie führt
zu weiteren Fragen, und kein Werk darf für die Aspekte
kritisiert werden, die es - oft aus guten Gründen -
nicht behandelt hat. Vielmehr hat im Mittelpunkt der
Bewertung die Leistung der Untersuchung zu stehen.
Für die Arbeit von Rainer Polak ist grundsätzlich
hervorzuheben, dass sie über den Kreis von Fachleuten
der Ethnologie und Musikethnologie hinaus allen an
der Jenbe-Musik Interessierten zu empfehlen ist. Sie
ist diesem größeren Leserkreis insbesondere als Medi-
zin gegen eine romantisch-vereinfachende Sicht auf die
Grundlagen dieser Musik zu empfehlen, da sie unschätz-
bare Einsichten in den harten Alltag der Jenbe-Trommler
in Bamako vermittelt. Hans Peter Hahn
Porath, Nathan: When the Bird Flies. Shamanic
Therapy and the Maintenance of Worldly Boundaries
among an Indigenous People of Riau (Sumatra). Leiden;
CNWS Publications, 2003. 258 pp. ISBN 90-5789-088-
7. Price: € 29.00
The topics of this book are shamanic healing sessions
and community rituals involving shamanic performances
among the Sakai. The Sakai are a group of Malay-
speaking former hunters and gatherers who have been
forced into sedentariness in recent decades. They live
in the interfluvial landscape between the downstream
sections of the Siak and the Rokan rivers in the province
of Riau in eastern Sumatra. Since the 1950s, the Caltex
oil company has built roads connecting the area to the
provincial capital of Riau and to Dumai on the Straits
of Malacca. These roads have attracted settlers and
investors who transformed forests into plantations and
thus undermined the economic basis of the traditional
Sakai way of life. In precolonial times, this way of life
included the collection and sale of forest products to
traders and the Sultan’s tribute collectors. Living close
to an important crossroads of traffic and commerce, the
Straits of Malacca, the Sakai have been in touch with the
political and economic ups and downs of the regional
trading entrepot Siak Sri Indrapura for centuries, albeit
from a marginal position.
It is one of Porath’s concerns to demonstrate through
his analysis of Sakai shamanic songs that for the Sakai
the Siak Sultanate has played an important role as a
formidable power - if not in everyday life, at least
in their collective imagination. In this approach he dis-
tances himself from an earlier view of a radical opposi-
tion between Sumatran shamanism and the hegemonies
of Islam and the State. Porath shows how shamanic
songs are often introduced with Islamic formulae and
the topics of the “images of the spirit dimension are
modelled on the Malay kingdom and its discourses. Both
these categorical Others (the spirit dimension, and the
traditional kindom polity and society) are conceived of
as being external sources of power” (190). Porath’s ap-
proach to Sakai shamanism thus parallels Anna Tsing’s
famous analysis of Meratus shaman’s equation of the
power of spirits and the power of the Indonesian state
in her “In the Realm of the Diamond Queen” (Princeton
1993). Within contemporary shamanic studies in gen-
eral, Porath follows the lead of authors like Michael
Taussig, Caroline Humphrey, and Nicolas Thomas who
have historicised shamanism. In contrast to all these
authors he complements his historical and sociological
analysis with a detailed description of shamanic perfor-
mances and with a close reading of shamanic songs.
Porath looks at Sakai shamanism as a performative
practice that reflects the Sakai’s assertion of autonomy
through a manipulative involvement with the hegemonic
powers of the Sultan, the foreign Chinese, Arab and
Dutch traders, and with the means of their power: their
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
645
transport technology, their military might, and their
ideologies - above all Islam. He does so through the
examination of two kinds of shamanic ritual: Dikei,
healing sessions, and kelongkap, community rituals.
He demonstrates how the Sakai had to negotiate their
identity with the demands of an increasingly hegemonic
and ideological Malayness, since the 19th century. This
negotiation becomes apparent in concepts that at first
sight appear to be “original” Sakai terms marking a
difference to Muslim Malay ways, but which at close
inspection turn out to be Islamic concepts. For instance,
dikei, a Malay rendering of Arabic z.ikr, to recite the
Qur’an, designates the shamanic healing practices of the
Sakai. One of the Sakai’s terms to denote the soul, batin,
likewise recurs to Islamic mystical traditions, while the
other important term for soul, semangat, is of old Malay
stock. Porath interprets the use of these concepts as
the subsuming of the Sakai’s shamanic practices to the
authoritative discourse of Islam (218). At the same time
they may also be looked at as an interesting twist in
the Sakai’s masking their own kafir-practices vis-à-vis
Malay visitors.
While in dikei, these adaptations to Islam remain on
a purely linguistic level, in the kelongkap rituals they
include performative elements. The kelongkap rituals
are particularly fascinating because they involve several
shamans performing together or one after the other
in the context of a community ritual. The purpose of
kelongkap is not medical healing, but the assertion of the
“completeness” (Indon. kelengkapan) of the community
(136). The kelongkap is an event that strengthens the
Sakai’s group identity by addressing and rectifying
existing conflicts and by simply entertaining the crowd
throughout a festive night. Some performative elements
of the kelongkap, like the swirling and prostration of
shamans, may reflect their Sufi origin and, thus, suggest
that the community rituals have probably been the main
stage of an early syncretistic merging of shamanism and
Islam.
Porath adds as another example of a transformation
of an Islamic concept the milk-kinship among the Sakai,
with which he deals in the third chapter. According to
Islamic family law, a boy and a girl who have been
breast-fed by the same woman may not marry, even
if they are not “blood siblings.” In its literal mean-
ing, milk-siblingship, thus, simply establishes an incest
barrier analogous to that among “blood siblings.” Like
other matrilinea! societies in the Islamic realm - i.e.,
the Tuareg - the Sakai appear to have reinterpreted
the concept of milk-kinship to legitimise matrilinea!
reckoning of descent.
All this suggests that the Sakai must have been
actively involved in the wider Malay discursive commu-
nity throughout the century-long process of Islamisation,
so that it seems a bit far-fetched to speak of a non-
Islamic reality of the Sakai (215) that can still be separat-
ed from an Islamic reality. There are several statements
in a similar vein, in Porath’s book, which contradict the
assertion in other places that Sakai shamanism has been
deeply shaped by its interaction with the Malay Muslim
world. This ambivalence is never really overcome and
might be accountable to successive stages of reflection
in the process of research.
One of the strengths of this ethnographically rich
book is the rendering and interpretation of a great
number of shamanic songs. Porath offers mostly genuine
translations of this very difficult genre, which testify
to his intimate familiarity with a whole universe of
metaphors, tropes, and allusions that make up the
language of the spells. The elliptic nature of this poetry,
of course, leaves open alternative readings and, thus,
invites criticism of the suggested translation. In certain
passages, Porath’s translations are indeed unconvincing.
For instance, Sikat jangan minyak gilo, a line from the
calling of the mambak-spirit, rendered by Porath as
“Madly I comb my hair” (85) should more probably
be read as “I comb my hair with maddening oil.” In
others, they are careless, as in this line of the song “Mad
King Crocodile” on p. 167: Di su’uhpo’i di imbau datak,
translated as “I call you to arrive” instead of “If ordered
he leaves, if called he comes.” Or on the same page the
confusion of upriver and downstream, which is repeated
on pp. 112 and 114 and which is echoed by a confusion
of left and right on p. 109. A number of lines in the
song on p. 156 (beginning with ku toluk putV omeh until
nan tubedo) are rendered in a particularly confused and
inconsistent way.
Considering the difficulty of translating any poetry
well - and particularly such genres as the polysémie
poetry of magic songs or the pantun quatrains with
their subtle phonetic allusions - it would have been
no loss of face for the author to admit to the rather
tentative character of some of his translations or to
offer alternative readings. But as it is, the obvious lack
of solidity in some spots casts unnecessary doubts on
the majority of convincing translations. And Porath’s
speculative interpretations of the weaker translations
become a bit more doubtful, too - as, for instance,
when he interprets a rendering of the song “Young King
Driving His Sedan” as involving a car crash (207).
This crash is simply not warranted by the transcript
of the song. In other cases, though, Porath offers very
convincing translations and interpretations, i.e., of the
song “Lady Java” (175).
Another minor criticism concerns the editing. It is
a pity that it has been done rather casually so that the
reader has to suffer through countless printing errors.
Names are misspelt (Antlov instead of Antldv, Bour-
guinon instead of Bourguignon, Devereaux instead of
Devereux, Dominig instead of Domenig, Hultzkrantz in-
stead of Hultkrantz, Jaspers instead of Jaspan, Kepferer
instead of Kapferer - and even the likes of van Gennep
and Lévi-Strauss must do with van Gannap and with
an e without the accent aigu, respectively). Throughout
the text, one encounters reins for reigns, babbits for
habits, Sriwajaya for Srivijaya, inheritence for inheri-
tance, sedenterised for sedentarised, kayaks for canoes,
alternative states of consciousness for altered states of
consciousness, tenants of Islam for tenets of Islam -
not to speak of Indonesian words: terrasing instead of
Anthropos 101.2006
646
Rezensionen
terasing, kemadjuan for kemajuan, terkebelakang for
terbelakang.
These editorial weaknesses notwithstanding, Porath’s
book is a highly welcome contribution to an increasing
number of monographs about Indonesian societies that
have escaped the close attention of colonial and early
postcolonial ethnographers. And it is a committed effort
to engage with the difficult genre of shamanic texts
in a comprehensive way, which, despite the minor
shortcomings mentioned above, is laudable in itself. But
the originality and importance of Porath’s book certainly
lies in the ambition to combine a social anthropological
approach to shamanism with a philological one.
One last remark concerns the choice of the topic
itself. At a point in Sakai history, in which their survival
as a culturally distinct group is doomed beyond hope,
it may seem astonishing that Porath doesn’t commit
himself to the analysis of the processes that cause the
present marginialisation and plight of the Sakai. Their
bitter tragedy consists in the fact that the hegemonic
worldly powers they used to invoke in shamanic songs
- just as they invoke powerful spirits - in order to
harness and manipulate them, have physically arrived,
pushed them to the margins of the frontier society,
and turned the expressive remnants of their way of life
into a petty touristic attraction for the occasional Caltex
employee. The big question that remains unanswered for
me in Porath’s book thus is: What does the experience
of this utter powerlessness mean for the legitimacy of
shamanic practice? Reading Porath’s account, my im-
pression is that it means surprisingly little. Shamanism
is still a powerful therapy for those seeking health, and
it is still a powerful source of group identity. Perhaps
this is so because Sakai shamans have always been
the underdogs in their confrontation with the mighty
spirits like mambak, “Lord King Crocodile,” “Young
King Driving his Sedan” and their worldly counterparts.
It was the shaman’s daring and cunning in dealing with
these powers that earned them a following that hoped
to resist these powers with their guidance. Perhaps this
also explains the optimism that pervades Porath’s book,
which seems at first a bit misplaced in the case of a
society that is recklessly being deprived of its ecological
base. Heinzpeter Znoj
Roberts, Richard: Litigants and Households. African
Disputes and Colonial Courts in the French Soudan,
1895-1912. Portsmouth: Heinemann, 2005. 309 pp.
ISBN 0-3250-0258-4. Price: $ 29.95
This useful volume is based upon extensive archival
research in Mali, West Africa, along with interviews
of local Africans familiar with local courts and trials.
It makes use of records for about 2,000 recorded cases
from the era of early French colonialism in West Africa.
This provides a valuable description of how the French
colonialists sought to use native courts to impose order
on local Africans and also, in contrast, how opportunistic
Africans sought to use courts to claim new rights in
changing economic and political situations, what the
author describes as an ever-changing “landscape of
power” (2).
In 1905 French colonialists established local African
courts in what is now Mali and adjoining areas of Su-
danic West Africa. These were divided into three levels:
(1) Village tribunals headed by local chiefs and aimed
at achieving reconciliation between local disputants; no
records were kept by such bodies. (2) Provincial tri-
bunals headed by African magistrates who were appoint-
ed by French officials who supervised them. (3) District
tribunals which reviewed appeals from provincial tri-
bunals and whose judgements were made by the French
Lieutenant Governor. This volume is almost entirely
concerned with cases heard by provincial tribunals.
These kept written records and were the courts where
local African ideas and practices of law directly encoun-
tered the authority of French administrators. These were
the arenas where Africans could test their views about
law and justice against those of their colonial rulers and
where French administrators, in turn, could appraise and
judge the ability and character of Africans against their
own views of what constituted civilised behaviour. The
French repeatedly cited court records as evidence of the
character (and, at times, the backwardness) of African
society and culture.
Those cases that reached provincial tribunals were
never seen by Africans as ones meriting reconciliation.
Reconciliation was a concept in large part synonymous
with the local social pressures to conform which were
experienced in local communities. Those who brought
cases beyond their villages to provincial tribunals sought
judgements that would assign rewards and punishments
to the protagonists involved, not peaceful resolution.
These were cases which litigants saw as insoluble locally
because traditional social life had changed, because
older social ties and values no longer fully held.
During the earlier decades of these courts local
Malian society was disrupted by the end of legalized
slavery. This led to many former African slaves now
seeking to leave the households and even villages where
they had been subordinated; this included men who had
worked for African landholders and petty traders and
artisans and also women seeking to leave men who
had purchased them as concubines and wives. Former
owners sought to hold on to former slaves by claiming
that slaves owed them debts; former slaves often claimed
former masters owed them wages or had not properly
supported them in food and housing. The overwhelming
number of cases involved women seeking to leave
men who claimed to be their legal husbands. In short,
the newly-created local colonial tribunals provided new
arenas where those of lower status could try to challenge
their superiors successfully. One of the major results
of this growing litigation was that French colonialists
began to reconsider their stereotypes about the nature
of African households and the stability of African
society.
At first, French colonialists supported women seek-
ing divorce, criticizing ways in which traditional African
society oppressed women. Later officials became ever
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
647
more uneasy about the rising rate of marital instability
and the decline in male authority. They consequently
tried to make divorce increasingly difficult.
French officials tended to view African society holis-
tically, discounting the intricacies and variations of
Muslim law and tribal differences and instead viewing
Africans as having a uniform native culture presum-
ably existing as it did long before colonialism. The
French were increasingly uneasy about how they should
view domestic property. On the one hand, they viewed
household property as determined by traditional kinship
centering around rights to land and subsistence. On the
other hand, they also recognized that property could
be attained by individual labour, such as through com-
merce, crafts, and the husbandry of livestock. These lat-
ter aspects of property, however, had especially grown in
prominence after colonial contact. Before colonial paci-
fication slavery was the major form of investment in new
wealth; after slavery became illegal, livestock became
the major form of investment. Furthermore, the peace
and economic stimulus of colonial order encouraged the
growth of commerce, including new opportunities for
women as traders. Most important of all, colonialism
introduced cash as a new form of capital savings (far
superior to traditional cowrie shells). All these changes
severely threatened earlier African concepts about how
property could be held and how it should' be promoted.
The French sought to encourage kinship solidarity which
presumably would foster local communal stability, but
at the same time the French strongly believed that those
who laboured should hold primary rights to the products
of their work. Finally, as both population and trade grew,
land values skyrocketed and with that litigation over
rights to hold and dispose of property also radically
increased.
Roberts deftly describes how these countervailing
beliefs of the French interplayed with the changing
economic and social organizational changes which they
themselves had promoted, whether consciously or not.
Not surprisingly, the legal challenges encouraged in the
years immediately after 1905. were steady replaced by
an official tendency to encourage social stability and
elder male authority as colonialists sought to control an
African society that they considered dangerous if it were
to change too rapidly, even though French colonialism
had been the very source of those changes.
Roberts has written a valuable account of the difficul-
ties of producing and enforcing law in a society in which
colonial rulers and ruled do not fully comprehend one
another and where rulers themselves are not clear either
about the outcomes of their own policies or indeed even
clear about what changes they actually desire. Roberts
has a keen sense of how colonial Malian society worked,
a good sense of the cultural contradictions involved in
African courts under colonial rule, and an awareness
of the methodical limitations of using written colonial
legal records to determine what actually went on in local
African courts on the ground. Roberts’s broad views
strike me as convincing and enlightening; inevitably,
however, his material cannot convey what actual court
situations must have been like on the ground. Unfor-
tunately, we still lack enough studies of how those
local African courts worked. Unfortunately, too, those
who were there and who might tell us are ever less in
numbers as the years go by. Let us hope such infor-
mants’ accounts may yet be salvaged to flesh out our
understanding of this aspect of the vanishing colonial
experience. T. O. Beidelman
Schäfer, Rita: Im Schatten der Apartheid. Frauen-
Rechtsorganisationen und geschlechtsspezifische Gewalt
in Südafrika. Münster; Lit Verlag, 2005. 480 pp. ISBN
3-8258-8676-X. Preis; € 29.90
Nach der politischen Wende in Südafrika waren
Frauenrechtsorganisationen maßgeblich an der Ausge-
staltung der neuen Verfassung beteiligt, einer Verfas-
sung, die als mustergültig gilt im Hinblick auf die
Implementierung demokratischer und emanzipatorischer
Grundsätze. Die Gleichstellung von Frauen in allen
Lebensbereichen und ein umfassender Schutz vor Ge-
walt sind rechtlich verankert. Tatsächlich bleibt jedoch
der Alltag der meisten Südafrikanerinnen geprägt von
wachsender Kriminalität und eskalierender Gewalt; das
Land hat die höchste Vergewaltigungsrate der Welt und
befindet sich auch mit der häuslichen Gewalt an der
Spitze der Statistiken.
Dieses Auseinanderklaffen von Rechtsanspruch und
Rechtsrealität steht im Mittelpunkt von Rita Schäfers
Arbeit. Basierend auf empirischen Studien in den Jahren
2000-2001 und 2005 und mit Hilfe einer gründlichen
und umfassenden Literaturauswertung, zu der sie eine
wahrhaft erstaunliche Fülle an Material heranzieht, er-
hellt sie die historischen und soziokulturellen Hinter-
gründe für die weitgehende Akzeptanz von Gewalt, die
inzwischen für die Geschlechterbeziehungen prägend
geworden ist, und dokumentiert die Arbeit der ver-
schiedenen Frauenorganisationen, die versuchen, gesell-
schaftliche Veränderungsprozesse in Gang zu setzen und
die Lage der Frauen zu verbessern. Die Studie ist mul-
tidisziplinär angelegt, und bei der Leserschaft werden
zumindest gute Grundkenntnisse der Geschichte, Politik
und Ethnografie Südafrikas und Verständnis für Rechts-
und Gender-Fragen vorausgesetzt.
Das 480 Seiten starke Werk gliedert sich in vier Teile
mit insgesamt 14 durchnummerierten Kapiteln, gefolgt
von einer außerordentlich umfangreichen Bibliografie.
Zunächst gibt die Autorin einen gut recherchierten Über-
blick über den Stand der Forschung im Bereich gender-
studies in Südafrika, wobei sie ein weites Spektrum von
Forschungsbereichen und -themen anspricht, die für die
Frage der Geschlechterbeziehungen relevant sind, von
Sozialgeschichte, Politik und Ökonomie bis hin zum
Bildungs- und Gesundheitswesen.
Im ersten Teil, “Historische Kontexte der geschlechts-
spezifischen Gewalt”, analysiert Rita Schäfer Geschlech-
terhierarchien und -konstruktionen und geschlechts-
spezifische Gewaltformen vom Anfang der Kolonialzeit
bis zum Ende der Apartheid in chronologischer Rei-
henfolge und Maskulinitätskonstrukte in verschiedenen
Anthropos 101.2006
648
Rezensionen
historischen Kontexten. Ihre Untersuchung zeigt deut-
lich die fatale Verfestigung von Legitimationsmustern
für körperliche Gewalt aufgrund des Kontroll- und
Machtverlustes, den südafrikanische Männer in dieser
Zeit erfuhren. Gewalt gegen Frauen wurde zu einem
Kompensationsmittel und die Kontrolle über Frauen das
letzte männliche Machtrefugium (99).
Der zweite Teil, “Gender und Gewalt in verschie-
denen Lebenswelten”, wendet sich der Gegenwart zu
und beginnt mit sehr interessanten theoretischen Über-
legungen zu geschlechtsspezifischer Gewalt und Gen-
derkonstruktionen, wobei Frau Schäfer eindringlich die
komplexen Interdependenzen zwischen häuslicher und
sexueller Gewalt gegen Frauen und anderen Gewaltfor-
men betont. Sie definiert geschlechtsspezifische Gewalt
als Machthandeln, mit dem Überlegenheit und Kon-
trollansprüche gefestigt werden sollen und betont die
“inhärente Flandlungslogik” (108) derartigen Vorgehens,
ohne darüber hinwegzusehen, dass “die exzessiven und
äußerst brutalen Formen der sexuellen Gewalt auf den
ersten Blick den Eindruck erwecken, als sei die soziale
Ordnung in Südafrika total zusammengebrochen ...”
(112). Die Autorin geht sehr detailliert auf die ge-
waltsame Aufrechterhaltung der Geschlechterhierarchi-
en in den unterschiedlichen südafrikanischen Lebens-
bereichen ein, z. B. in Squattercamps und Townships, in
ländlichen Gegenden und auf Großfarmen, an Schulen
und Universitäten, im Gesundheitssektor und in den
Religionen. Es wird deutlich, dass Gewalt gegen Frau-
en in Südafrika ein allgegenwärtiges, weithin tolerier-
tes und auch von den Frauen aufgrund konservativer
Rollenmuster verinnerlichtes Phänomen ist. Besonders
die sexuelle Gewalt hat normative Züge angenommen
und avanciert zu einem identitätsstiftenden, elementa-
ren Bestandteil der Maskulinitätskonstruktion, so dass
es zu einem “Gewaltdiktat” in Beziehungen zwischen
Männern und Frauen kommt.
Diese Tatsache steht in krassem Widerspruch zur
Rechtslage. Wie Frau Schäfer im dritten Teil des Ban-
des mit dem Titel “Frauenrechte und staatliche Insti-
tutionen” ausführt, werden Gesetze, die den Frauen
umfassenden Schutz vor Diskriminierung und Gewalt
gewähren sollen, nur sehr schleppend und ineffektiv
in die Realität umgesetzt. Dies beruht auf einer Rei-
he von historisch und sozial bedingten Ursachen und
Umständen, welche die Autorin untersucht; hier zeigt
sich das “Erbe der Apartheid” und des Kolonialrechts in
aller Deutlichkeit. Ignoranz, Korruption und Sexismus
kennzeichnen den Polizeiapparat, während die Staats-
anwaltschaft überlastet ist. Durchgreifende Reformen
scheinen dringend notwendig.
Der vierte und letzte Teil des Buches setzt sich inten-
siv mit den im Titel erwähnten Frauenrechtsorganisatio-
nen auseinander. Zunächst befasst sich die Autorin mit
den Frauenorganisationen, die während der Apartheid
mit unterschiedlichen Mitteln gegen diskriminierende
Gesetze und staatliche Willkür kämpften. Sie sahen sich
als Teil der Befreiungsbewegung, und um diese nicht
intern zu spalten oder zu schwächen, blieben Debat-
ten zur Geschlechterproblematik in jener Zeit bewusst
ausgeklammert. Geschlechtsspezifische Gewalt wurde
unmittelbar nach der politischen Wende als Folge der
Apartheid erklärt.
Anstatt den Staat zu bekämpfen, kooperieren heuti-
ge Frauenrechtsorganisationen mit ihm, um ihre Ziele
durchzusetzen. Rita Schäfer teilt die von ihr vorgestell-
ten Organisationen in zwei Gruppen mit unterschied-
lichen ArbeitsSchwerpunkten auf: Rechtsforschung und
rechtspolitische Lobbyarbeit beziehungsweise Rechtsin-
formationen und psychosoziale Beratung. Die meisten
dieser Organisationen befinden sich in einem Prozess der
Neuorientierung und -positionierung. Die Haltung ge-
genüber der Regierung ist oft ambivalent; aus Gründen
der Solidarität und anderen praktischen Erwägungen hält
man sich mit konstruktiver Kritik zurück.
Ohne die Verdienste der Frauenrechtsorganisationen
im Geringsten in Frage zu stellen - denn sie bringen ge-
sellschaftlich tabuisierte Probleme an die Öffentlichkeit
und bieten im Rahmen ihrer jeweiligen Zielsetzungen
und Möglichkeiten wertvolle Dienste und Hilfsangebote
für Frauen -, bemängelt Rita Schäfer den vorherrschen-
den opferorientierten Beratungsansatz. Die Wirksamkeit
der wenigen Präventivmaßnahmen bleibt begrenzt. Die
Autorin kritisiert die Einstellung der meisten südafri-
kanischen Frauenrechtsorganisationen, die geschlechts-
spezifische Gewalt als ein Phänomen interpretieren, das
alle Frauen gleichermaßen betrifft; sie ignorieren und
verleugnen Unterschiede zwischen Frauen aufgrund eth-
nischer Zugehörigkeit, sozialer und ökonomischer Stel-
lung, des Alters, der Religion usw. Schäfer ist davon
überzeugt, dass es unumgänglich sein wird, diese Dif-
ferenzen in Betracht zu ziehen, um effektive Strategien
zur Bekämpfung der Gewalt zu entwickeln.
Im letzten Kapitel des vierten Teils befasst sich die
Autorin mit den wenigen Männerorganisationen in Süd-
afrika, die einen schweren Stand haben, da sie tradi-
tionelle Männlichkeitskonzepte herausfordern und daher
weder von Männern noch von Frauen emst genom-
men werden; die meisten Frauenrechtsorganisationen
möchten aufgrund ihres feministischen Selbstverständ-
nisses und ihrer “kategorischen Verurteilung von Män-
nern” (321) nicht mit ihnen Zusammenarbeiten.
Rita Schäfer liefert mit ihrem Werk eine wissen-
schaftlich fundierte, differenzierte Darstellung des kom-
plexen Zusammenspiels von historischen, politischen,
ökonomischen und kulturellen Faktoren, die die Lebens-
realität am “Kap der Gewalt” bestimmen. Der Band
enthält eine große Menge an gut aufgearbeiteten Infor-
mationen und ist so strukturiert, dass sich einzelne Teile
oder Kapitel sehr gut separat lesen lassen; allerdings
scheint der Text ein wenig überladen mit oft umfang-
reichen Fußnoten, die mehrheitlich in den Textkorpus
gehören, da sie wichtige oder zumindest lesenswerte
Details enthalten.
Obwohl eigene empirische Studien durchgeführt
wurden, liegt das Übergewicht der Arbeit doch ein-
deutig auf der Literaturauswertung; mit fast scholas-
tischer Akribie belegt und untermauert Frau Schäfer
ihre Aussagen. Die Autorin legt Wert auf größtmögliche
Objektivität und Sachlichkeit; sie hält sich an die Fak-
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
649
ten und kommt, unter konsequenter Einbeziehung der
historischen Dimension, zu intelligenten Schlussfolge-
rungen.
Alle, die sich mit Gender- und Gewaltforschung,
Rechtsethnologie oder südafrikanischer Politik befassen,
können von diesem Werk profitieren. Der Band eignet
sich hervorragend als Diskussionsgrundlage und als
Ausgangspunkt für die weitergehende Beschäftigung mit
den angesprochenen Themen. Friederike Schneider
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk
(Hrsg.): Lokales Wissen - sozialwissenschaftliche Per-
spektiven. Münster; Lit Verlag, 2004. 273 pp. ISBN
3-8258-6963-6. (Mainzer Beiträge zur Afrika-Forschung,
11) Preis: €25.90
Was heutzutage unter dem Begriff “lokales Wissen”
kursiert, gehört eigentlich zu den traditionellen The-
men der Ethnologie und spricht damit indirekt eini-
ge Binsenweisheiten des Faches an. Trotzdem wurde
lokales Wissen erst Anfang der 80er Jahre offiziell
für die Entwicklungszusammenarbeit “entdeckt”, wobei
der bekannte Sammelband von Brokensha et al. (Indi-
genous Knowledge Systems and Development. Wash-
ington 1980) einen der entscheidenden Anstöße gab. Es
ist inzwischen nicht mehr einfach, von lokalem Wissen
zu reden, ohne irgendwie auf entwicklungspolitische
Fragen einzugehen. Zu eng sind diese Themenbereiche
miteinander verflochten. Das scheinbar Unvermeidbare
ist jedoch nicht das Hauptanliegen dieses Sammelban-
des. Vielmehr geht es den Herausgebern und Autoren
darum, die Bedeutung der inzwischen umfangreichen
und vielfältigen Forschung zu lokalem Wissen für die
Sozialwissenschaften (hier vor allem Ethnologie und
Soziologie) zu beleuchten und zu bewerten.
Theoretische und methodologische Reflexionen ste-
hen im Vordergrund und nicht etwa Projektgeschichten
oder weitere Beiträge zu den vielfältigen Küchenrezep-
ten für den Umgang mit lokalem Wissen. Dieser Band
wurde nicht für die Entwicklungspolitik geschrieben,
obwohl aufgeschlossene Personen aus diesem Bereich
mit Sicherheit einige Kapitel mit großem Gewinn lesen
könnten.
Die Entstehung des Bandes wird nicht sonderlich
expliziert, aber er scheint auf eine Tagung, die im No-
vember 2002 am Zentrum für Entwicklungsforschung
(ZEF) in Bonn veranstaltet wurde, zurückzugehen. Die
ausgewählte Problemstellung rechtfertigt sich durch die
Wahrnehmung, dass ein starker Anwendungsbezug in
der Forschung zu lokalem Wissen die theoretischen
und methodischen Beziehungen und Beiträge zu den
sozialwissenschaftlichen Herkunftsfächern schwächen
kann. Daher verdienen einige Fragestellungen beson-
dere Aufmerksamkeit: (1) Was heißt eigentlich kon-
kret “lokales Wissen”, und wie ist der Begriff von
anderen Wissensformen abgrenzbar? Ist dies wertneu-
tral möglich? (2) Sind die Erforschung lokalen Wissens
(local knowledge studies) und ethnologische Wissensfor-
schung überhaupt voneinander abgrenzbar? (3) Wie lässt
sich die Forschung zu lokalem Wissen in allgemeine-
re wissenssoziologische Diskussionen, insbesondere im
Kontext phänomenologischer Klassiker der Wissensso-
ziologie, einbetten?
Auf diese Fragestellungen gehen die Autoren der
elf Beiträge in unterschiedlicher Weise ein. Jedes Ka-
pitel verdiente ausführliche Kommentare, die jedoch
den Rahmen einer gewöhnlichen Besprechung erheb-
lich sprengen würden. Die Hervorhebung bestimmter
Beiträge wird somit notwendig, ohne damit die anderen
herabwerten zu wollen. Ein Rätsel bleibt allerdings, nach
welchen Prinzipien der Band gegliedert wurde, denn
ein grundlegender Beitrag wie der von Dieter Neubert
und Elisio Macamo über so genanntes “authentisches”
lokales Wissen und den Globalitätsanspruch der Wis-
senschaft sollte nicht in der Mitte, sondern am Anfang
stehen.
Nikolaus Schareikas einführender Text zu den ethno-
logischen Perspektiven lokalen Wissens stellt eine Art
Klammer aller Beiträge dar. In stellenweise leicht ironi-
scher Argumentation unterbreitet Schareika Vorschläge
zur Erforschung lokalen Wissens und zur Definition
dieses Forschungsbereiches, plädiert für eine Entessen-
tialisierung des Begriffes lokales Wissen und kommt
zum Befund, dass die Erforschung dieses Wissens eher
zur sozialwissenschaftlichen Grundlagenforschung als
zur nachhaltigen Verbesserung der Lebensbedingungen
der Wissensträger beigetragen habe.
Neubert und Macamos exzellenter Beitrag ist eher
wissenssoziologisch orientiert und behandelt grundle-
gende Fragen der Definition und Abgrenzung lokalen
Wissens von anderen Wissensformen sowie deren unter-
schiedliche Bewertung als “Referenzrahmen” bei Auf-
einandertreffen, insbesondere wenn es um Fragen der so
genannten “Deutungshegemonie” geht. Die eigene Posi-
tion folgt dabei einer konstruktivistischen Wissenssozio-
logie, die Entscheidungen zur Gültigkeit von Wissen in
sozialen Prozessen identifiziert. Lokales Wissen wird als
breiterer Begriff gegenüber “Alltagswissen” (Berger und
Luckmann) definiert, zumal es auch das Wissen lokaler
Spezialisten einschließt.
Weitere grundlegende Beiträge sind Gerhard Haucks
und Reinhart Kößlers kritische Reflexionen zur Episte-
mologie lokalen Wissens sowie Gudrun Lachenmanns
ausgewählte Darstellung aktueller Themen in der ent-
wicklungsbezogenen Forschung zu lokalem Wissen.
Lachenmanns Text (übrigens der einzige auf Englisch)
enthält punktuell gute Kommentare und Kritiken, lei-
det jedoch unter dem Mangel eines nicht erkennba-
ren Hauptanliegens sowie dem Fehlen guter empiri-
scher Illustrationen, so dass ein bisschen dem Stereotyp
vom langweiligen soziologischen Diskurs zugearbeitet
wird.
Weitere Kapitel gehen die Hauptfragestellungen des
Bandes durch Fallstudien an: die Gender-spezifische
Aushandlung von Wissen in Nordghana (Martina Aruna
Padmanabhan), Gender-spezifische Wissenskonzeptio-
nen kamerunischer Landfrauen (Elisabeth Hartwig), un-
terschiedliche Deutungen einer Flutkatastrophe in Mo-
sambik durch verschiedene involvierte Akteure als ein
Beispiel für Wissenskonflikte (Macamo und Neubert),
Anthropos 101.2006
650
Rezensionen
Fragen lokaler Wissensgenerierung, translokaler Wis-
sensflüsse und der Konfiguration so genannter Wissens-
landschaften (ein metaphorisches, jedoch sehr nützliches
Konzept) am Beispiel ghanaischer Frauenorganisationen
(Christine Müller) sowie die Rolle lokalen Wissens im
Entwicklungsdiskurs anhand von Umweltthemen und
-Problemstellungen aus dem ländlichen Indien (Antje
Linkenbach). Alle diese Beiträge sind anregend und le-
senswert. Eine besondere Erwähnung verdienen jedoch
Ivo Streckers tief gehende Reflexionen zur rhetorischen
- und damit äußerst schwer fassbaren - Dimension
lokalen Wissens am Beispiel der Hamar Südäthiopiens.
Strecker macht damit nicht nur auf eine leicht ver-
gessene Wissensdimension aufmerksam, die sich eben
nicht in Datenbanken abspeichern und abrufen lässt,
sondern regt auch zu einer Erweiterung des Begriffs und
Verständnisses lokalen Wissens an, die im Zusammen-
hang mit seiner Entwicklung einer rhetorischen Kultur-
theorie gesehen werden muss.
Das abschließende Kapitel von Ute Siebert behan-
delt schließlich das Verständnis lokalen Wissens im
Rahmen der UNESCO und zeigt enorme konzeptuelle
Unschärfen auf. Unter den Überlegungen der Autorin
zu Auswegen fällt der interessante und bedenkenswer-
te Vorschlag einer Unterscheidung zwischen “lokalem”
und “lokalisiertem” Wissen auf.
Als ein Befund sämtlicher Beiträge fällt auf, dass es
unmöglich erscheint, eine allgemein zufrieden stellende
Definition lokalen Wissens zu geben. Alle vorgeschlage-
nen Definitionen stellen letztlich Kompromisse dar, die
sich allerdings besser als andere Konzeptionen (wie bei-
spielsweise “indigenes” oder “traditionelles” Wissen) er-
weisen. An diesen Punkt war man allerdings bereits vor
15 Jahren angelangt, wenn auch vielleicht mit geringerer
theoretischer Untermauerung. Bedeutsam erscheint hin-
gegen die Feststellung, dass die anwendungsbezogene
Forschung zu lokalem Wissen nicht nur in vager Weise
als irgendwie interessant für die Sozialwissenschaften
gesehen werden kann, sondern dass sich aus ihr wich-
tige belebende Impulse für eingeschlafene Grundlagen-
forschungen ergeben haben, und die in diesem Band
vorgestellten Arbeiten bestätigen dies.
Der einzige Aspekt, der an diesem exzellenten Sam-
melband Befremden auslöst, ist das auffällige Schwei-
gen über die Vorreiterrolle der Arbeitsgemeinschaft Ent-
wicklungsethnologie (AGEE) bei den Diskussionen um
lokales Wissen innerhalb der deutschsprachigen Eth-
nologie, obwohl in mehreren Beiträgen auf Publika-
tionen der AGEE und mit ihr verbundener Autoren
verwiesen und zurückgegriffen wird. Ungewolltes oder
absichtliches Vergessen? Ansonsten lässt sich jedoch
festhalten, dass dieser Sammelband mit Sicherheit zu
den wichtigen Referenzwerken der deutschsprachigen
sozialwissenschaftlichen Forschung zu lokalem Wissen
zu rechnen ist. Peter Schröder
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk
(Hrsg.); Lokales Wissen - sozialwissenschaftliche Per-
spektiven. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 273 pp. ISBN
3-8258-6963-6. (Mainzer Beiträge zur Afrika-Forschung
11) Preis: €25.90
Der von Schareika und Bierschenk herausgegebene
Band versammelt elf Aufsätze über lokales Wissen, die
aus Vorträgen auf der Herbsttagung der Sektion Ent-
wicklungssoziologie und Sozialanthropologie der Deut-
schen Gesellschaft für Soziologie 2001 hervorgegangen
sind. Die Autoren sind Ethnologen, Soziologen und
Praktiker aus der internationalen Entwicklungszusam-
menarbeit, in die die Forschung über lokales Wissen
häufig eingebettet ist.
Die ersten zwei Artikel beschäftigen sich mit den
Implikationen dieser Einbettung. Für Nikolaus Scha-
reika birgt die Anwendungsorientierung der Forschung
zu lokalem Wissen ein ethnologisch interessantes Er-
kenntnispotential: Sie habe die Aufmerksamkeit auf
bisher vernachlässigte Bereiche indigenen Wissens ge-
lenkt und dem Fach durch die Betrachtung von Wissen
unter dem Aspekt des Handelns bzw. Verändems in
verschiedener Hinsicht befruchtende Impulse gegeben.
Die praktische Umsetzung dieser Erkenntnisse in der
Entwicklungszusammenarbeit sei allerdings weitgehend
ausgeblieben. Gerhard Hauck und Reinhart Kößler se-
hen in der Einbettung in die EZ dagegen eher eine
Quelle epistemologischer Verzerrungen: Der Wunsch
nach entwicklungspolitischer Handhabbarkeit habe dazu
geführt, dass lokales Wissen irrigerweise als homogener,
in sich geschlossener und klar nach außen abgrenzbarer
Wissenskorpus, der einer eindeutig definierbaren loka-
len Gruppe zugeordnet werden kann, betrachtet wird.
Da Projekte, die sich an diese imaginären Grenzen
halten, reale Unterschiede schaffen, seien die Folgen oft
fatal.
Im folgenden Aufsatz über das Wissen der äthiopi-
schen Hamar zitiert Ivo Strecker großzügig aus bereits
veröffentlichten Feldnotizen, um zu zeigen, dass die
(scheinbare) Unschärfe und Widersprüchlichkeit lokalen
Wissens soziale Hintergründe hat: In ihren Gesprächen
über die Welt handeln die Hamar immer auch gesell-
schaftliche Positionen aus, was wiederum nur funktio-
niert, wenn sich die Sprecher über die Bedeutung der
Dinge uneins sind. Das rhetorische Gepolter gegen die
Spaltung des abendländischen Denkens in Wissenschaft
und Religion (89 f.), bringt in der Sache dagegen eher
wenig weiter.
Dieter Neubert und Elisio Macamo beschäftigen
sich mit dem Aufeinandertreffen von “authentischem”
lokalem Wissen und westlicher Wissenschaft in den
Gesellschaften der Dritten Welt. Ausgehend von den
Überlegungen der phänomenologischen Soziologie zum
Verhältnis von Wissen und Gesellschaft, stellen sie die
These auf, dass die Konfrontation mit den Errungen-
schaften der Wissenschaft in der Regel zwar zur Über-
nahme offensichtlich nützlicher Technologien und des
dazugehörigen Anwendungswissens, nicht aber zu ei-
ner grundsätzlichen Veränderung des lokalen Denkens
führt. Eine “Deutungshegemonie” des westlichen Wis-
sens entstehe erst, wenn gleichzeitig ein entsprechender
gesellschaftlicher Umgestaltungsprozess stattfindet. In
einem weiteren Artikel (Macamo und Neubert) illustriert
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
651
das Autorenteam den Zusammenhang von Gesellschaft,
Wissen und daraus resultierendem Handeln am Beispiel
der unterschiedlichen Reaktionen des staatlichen Not-
hilfeapparats und der lokalen Gemeinden auf die Flut-
katastrophe in Mosambik im Jahr 2000: Der beobach-
tete Gegensatz von technischen versus sinnorientierten
Interpretationen des Unglücks und, daraus abgeleitet,
zweckrationalen (Umsiedelung, Dämme) versus rituel-
len Präventionsmaßnahmen spiegle letztlich den von
Max Weber definierten Unterschied von Gesellschaft
und Gemeinschaft wider. Die Tatsache, dass auch die
lokale Bevölkerung im Rahmen ihrer Möglichkeiten
zunächst ganz “zweckrational” gehandelt hat (Rückzug
auf höher gelegenes Land), ist beim Herausarbeiten die-
ser Gegensätze leider unter den Tisch gefallen. Das Bild
wirkt allzu holzschnittartig.
Während Neuheit und Macamo untersuchen, welche
Auswirkungen die Sozialorganisation auf das Wissen
der jeweiligen Gesellschaft hat, stellen Martina Pad-
manabhan und Elisabeth Hartwig die umgekehrte Frage:
Wie wirkt sich der Import “globalen” Wissens durch
westliche Entwicklungshelfer, Agrarexperten usw. auf
die lokale Gesellschaftsordnung aus? An Beispielen aus
Ghana und Kamerun zeigen sie, wie Frauen neu er-
worbenes Wissen im technischen, landwirtschaftlichen
oder organisatorischen Bereich strategisch nutzen, um
bestehende Geschlechterrollen neu auszuhandeln.
Christine Müller stellt anhand des Wissensflusses
zwischen lokalen, regionalen und internationalen Frau-
enorganisationen die Wechselwirkung von globalem und
lokalem Wissen dar. Antje Linkenbach zeigt an einem
Beispiel aus Nordindien die Dynamik und zunehmende
Reflexivität lokalen Wissens im Kontext der Moderne
auf. Ein struktureller Unterschied zwischen lokalem und
wissenschaftlichem Wissen sei damit immer weniger
auszumachen. Wie die Beiträge von Gudrun Lachen-
mann und Ute Siebert demonstrieren, herrscht jedoch
trotz dieser immer engeren Verflechtungen bei vielen in-
ternationalen Organisationen (Entwicklungszusammen-
arbeit, Weltbank, UNESCO) nach wie vor ein essentia-
listisches und unreflektiertes Verständnis von lokalem
Wissen vor.
Dass Thomas Bierschenk zwar als Mitherausgeber
fungiert, aber keinen Artikel beigesteuert hat, mutet ein
wenig seltsam an. Auffälliger ist eine andere Lücke:
Während der Sammelband die translokalen Verflechtun-
gen lokalen Wissens aus den unterschiedlichsten Per-
spektiven beleuchtet, wird über lokales Wissen selbst
- außer, dass es eben translokal verflochten ist - mit
Ausnahme des Aufsatzes von Ivo Strecker so gut wie
gar nichts ausgesagt. Wie ist lokales Wissen überhaupt
beschaffen? Welche Bereiche deckt es ab? Wie wird es
generiert, tradiert etc.? Die Substanz des Wissens, das da
mit der westlichen Wissenschaft und anderen (globalen)
Diskursen zusammentrifft, spielt in den meisten Arti-
keln nur am Rande eine Rolle oder wird mit gängigen
Klischees umrissen (Neubert und Macamo; 101). Auch
die im Zusammenhang mit medizinischen und botani-
schen Kenntnissen so wichtige Diskussion um die kom-
merzielle Nutzung indigenen Wissens durch die Indus-
trie bleibt weitgehend ausgeblendet. Regional beziehen
sich die Aufsätze fast ausschließlich auf Afrika. Ange-
sichts dieser Beschränkungen hätte man gut daran getan,
den Band mit einem etwas spezifischeren Titel zu be-
nennen.
Für den Nichtafrikanisten sind vor allem die theo-
rieorientierteren Beiträge des Buches von Interesse. Zu
hoffen ist allerdings, dass es dem Leser nicht so wie
dem Rezensenten geht, in dessen Ausgabe ein Block
von 16 Seiten einfach fehlte. So etwas kommt vor.
Die Tatsache, dass der Verlag für die Zusendung eines
Ersatzexemplars geschlagene drei Wochen brauchte, so-
wie das offensichtlich fehlende Lektorat (ein Teil der
Beiträge folgt der alten, ein Teil der neuen Rechtschrei-
bung) zeigen jedoch einmal mehr, dass man bei Lit eine
sorgfältige editorische Betreuung nicht erwarten darf.
Bernhard Wörrle
Schoormann, Matthias: Sozialer und religiöser
Wandel in Afrika. Die Tonga in Zimbabwe. Münster:
Lit Verlag, 2005. 616 pp. ISBN 3-8258-8737-5 (Kultu-
relle Identität und politische Selbstbestimmung in der
Weltgesellschaft, 11) Preis: €45.90
Schoormann behandelt soziokulturelle Wandlungs-
prozesse bei den Tonga in Zimbabwe, insbesondere
Veränderungen religiöser Vorstellungen und Praktiken.
Durch ihre geographische und soziale Abgeschieden-
heit waren die Tonga im Laufe der Geschichte im
Großen und Ganzen vor massiven Wandlungen, verur-
sacht von äußeren Einflüssen, geschützt. Es kam jedoch
zu weit reichenden Veränderungen durch die Umsied-
lung von fast drei Viertel der Tonga in den 50er Jah-
ren in der Folge des Baues des Kariba-Staudammes.
Dieser gewaltige Eingriff verstärkte bei der egalitär-
segmentären Gesellschaft der matrilinearen Tonga pa-
trilineare und zentralisierende Tendenzen. Es kam auch
zur Schwächung von Verwandtschaftsbindungen und an-
deren sozialen Beziehungen. In den letzten Jahrzehn-
ten entwickelte sich zusätzlich eine zunehmende Kluft
zwischen traditionell orientierten Tonga und den Tonga,
die in einem neuen Bezugsrahmen leben. Diese Kluft
verdeutlicht sich einerseits in einer wachsenden sozia-
len Stratifikation, vorangetrieben von einer modernen
Schulausbildung und einer sich ausbreitenden Arbeits-
emigration, und andererseits in einem Konflikt bezüglich
der Teilnahme an bestimmten tradierten Riten. Insbe-
sondere Angehörige verschiedener Freikirchen lehnen
manche Riten radikal ab. Die soziale und kulturelle
Desintegration nimmt durch zunehmende wirtschaftliche
Schwierigkeiten in Zimbabwe immer mehr zu. Die re-
sultierende Unsicherheit führt bei vielen Tonga zu Frus-
trationen, sozialen Problemen, und Verdächtigungen von
Hexerei.
Wandlungen führten aber nicht nur zu Problemen,
sondern veranschaulichen auch wie flexibel und anpas-
sungsfähig die Tonga Gesellschaft ist. So entwickelte
sich mancherorts z. B. die Institution des “Ersatzehe-
mannes”, der bei der Feldarbeit half und sogar dem
durch Wanderarbeit abwesenden Ehemann Kinder zeug-
Anthropos 101.2006
652
Rezensionen
te. Obwohl der Autor das nicht erwähnt, knüpft die-
ser neue Brauch möglicherweise an die tradierte Pra-
xis an, dass ein zeugungsunfähiger Ehemann mit der
“Unterstützung” seiner männlichen Verwandten rechnen
kann, die für ihn Kinder zeugen. Der Emigrant ist ja
durch seine Abwesenheit zumindest temporär “unfähig”
mit seiner Frau Kinder zu zeugen. Eine andere Wei-
terentwicklung von traditionellen Formen ist im pro-
phetischen Heiler der einheimischen Kirchen zu se-
hen, der verschiedene Aspekte des traditionellen Keilers
aufgreift. Weiters berichtet der Autor, dass die Tonga
vielfach neue Elemente im Licht des Gewohnten in-
terpretieren; wie z. B. die Perlen des katholischen Ro-
senkranzes, die von manchen Tonga mit traditionellen
Glaskugelketten, die bestimmte Ahnengeister repräsen-
tieren, verglichen werden. Dies veranschaulicht, dass
tradierte Bedeutungen und Ausdrucksformen einem star-
ken Wandel unterliegen, obgleich zugrunde liegende
Gedankenmuster weiter bestehen. Es wäre interessant
gewesen, hätte der Autor solche und andere Phänomene
mit ähnlichen Phänomenen in anderen Gesellschaften
verglichen. Doch dieser grundlegende Ansatz der Kul-
turanthropologie hätte den Rahmen einer Ethnographie
gesprengt.
Ein besonderer Schwerpunkt der Aufmerksamkeit
des Autors ist die historische Veränderung verschiedener
religiöser Kulte. Er beschreibt detailliert Territorialkul-
te, in denen es vor allem um kommunale und öko-
logische Interessen geht. Da diese einen geographisch
begrenzten Einflussbereich haben, wurden sie durch die
massive Umsiedlung der Tonga geschwächt; die Tonga
brauchten Zeit, Beziehungen zu existierenden Kulten
in den neuen Siedlungsgebieten zu knüpfen. Zusätzlich
gibt es noch die prophetischen Kulte, die nicht regio-
nal begrenzt sind und Besessenheit durch einen Geist
voraussetzen. Auch wenn der Autor zwischen afflikti-
ven (Erkrankung des Einzelnen steht im Vordergrund)
und mediativen (Vermittlung zwischen Lebenden und
Ahnen steht im Vordergrund) Formen der Besessenheit
unterscheidet, argumentiert er überzeugend, dass solche
etische Kategorien den emischen Wirklichkeiten nicht
gerecht werden. Beide Formen basieren weitgehend auf
der gleichen Denk- und Handelsweise. Da affliktive Be-
sessenheitskulte stets die aktuell als bedrohlich emp-
fundenen Verhältnisse zum Gegenstand haben, befinden
sie sich auch in einem Prozess permanenten Wandels.
Zusätzlich zu den territorialen und den prophetischen
Kulten beschreibt Schoormann noch den Ahnenkult.
Dieser hat eine große Bedeutung für den familiären
und individuellen Bereich. Der Autor stellt einen Be-
deutungsverlust von Verwandtschaftsgruppen fest, teil-
weise bedingt durch die Opposition fundamentalistischer
Christen zur Ahnen Verehrung. Ein zusätzlicher Grund
für die Schwächung des Ahnenkultes rührt daher, dass
durch die Umsiedlung die matrilinearen Ahnen auch
ihre Bedeutung für die Bewirtschaftung des Landes ver-
loren haben. Das ingoma-Fest jedoch, das einige Zeit
nach dem Begräbnis abgehalten wird, hat seine zen-
trale Bedeutung für die kulturelle Identität der Tonga
behalten. Es sagt viel über ihre Wertvorstellungen, Be-
ziehungen untereinander, Denkart und Glaubensvorstel-
lungen aus.
Das vorliegende Buch ist eine gelungene Ethnogra-
phie der Tonga, die in gut lesbarer Weise verschiedene
Dimensionen der Gesellschaft und der Kultur vorstellt.
Doch die Breite der Thematik ist auch die Schwäche
des Buches. Man sieht oft den Wald vor lauter Bäumen
nicht! Teilweise scheint die Hauptthematik, der soziale
und religiöse Wandel, fast unterzugehen in der Beschrei-
bung verschiedenster Aspekte der Tonga-Gesellschaft
und -Kultur. Ein anderer Schwachpunkt ist, dass das
Buch mit Diskussionen über Theorie überladen ist - ty-
pisch für publizierte Dissertationen. Manches davon hat
nur minimale Relevanz für das Thema, z. B. die Ausein-
andersetzung des Autors mit der Erkenntnistheorie. Statt
sich in solchen Erörterungen zu verlieren, wäre es besser
gewesen, wenn der Autor sich mehr mit relevanteren
Thematiken innerhalb der zeitgemäßen Kulturanthropo-
logie auseinandergesetzt hätte, wie z. B. mit der Auswir-
kung von Megaprojekten auf Gesellschaften und Kultu-
ren. Immerhin war der Bau des Kariba-Staudammes, ein
Megaprojekt, eine wesentliche Ursache für Wandlungen
bei den Tonga. Der konfrontierende Stil, mit dem der
Autor sich oft von existierenden Publikationen distan-
ziert, und sie dabei eher einseitig negativ interpretiert,
ist auch ein typisches Merkmal einer Schreibweise, die
weit verbreitet ist in Dissertationen. Wie viele publi-
zierte Dissertationen besitzt auch dieses Buch keinen
Stichwort- und Namensindex, der für den interessierten
Leser eine große Hilfe gewesen wäre. Man gewinnt auch
den Eindruck, dass der Autor die Sprache der Tonga nur
minimal beherrscht. Wahrscheinlich ist das der Grund,
dass z. B. seine Klassifizierung von Ahnengeistern eher
verwirrend ist, und dass er manchmal recht unsicher
wirkt in der Interpretation von Daten seiner Feldfor-
schung. So beschreibt er die Auffassung, dass ein Hexer
jemanden mit einer “Schlange” töten kann (404). Ich
vermute, dass das ein Hinweis auf die Vorstellung ist, die
in der Literatur, unter anderem, als runyoka / ulunyoka
bekannt ist. Dies scheint dem Autor nicht aufgefallen zu
sein.
Im Großen und Ganzen ist das Buch eine faszinieren-
de Fallstudie, die aber noch den starken “Geruch” einer
Dissertation hat. Da viele deutsche Universitäten von
ihren Studenten verlangen, ihre Dissertation zu publi-
zieren (was heutzutage mit der Online-Publikation von
Dissertationen unverständlich ist!), ist dies dem Autor
nicht anzulasten. Man kann nur hoffen, dass er die The-
matik in einer neuen Publikation wieder aufgreift und
vertieft. Schoormann hat durch dieses Buch bewiesen,
dass er dazu fähig ist. Alexander Rödlach
Schuerkens, Ulrike (ed.): Transnational Migrations
and Social Transformations. London: Sage Publica-
tions, 2005. 214pp. ISSN 0011-3921. {Current Sociol-
ogy 53.2005/4) Price: $22.00
Das Schwerpunktheft vereint sieben interessante,
größtenteils auf Fallstudien basierte Untersuchungen zu
neuen Formen internationaler Migration. Dabei steht
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
653
die Betrachtung des Verhältnisses von Migration und
Entwicklung bzw. sozialem Wandel im Mittelpunkt
der meisten Beiträge. Der einleitende Artikel der Her-
ausgeberin versucht, diesen roten Faden der Einzel-
beiträge zu rekonstruieren. Ulrike Schuerkens geht
von der alten Kontroverse um die Wirkungen inter-
nationaler Migration aus: Führt diese zu einer Kon-
vergenz der Arbeits- und Lebensbedingungen zwi-
schen den Herkunfts- und Ankunftsregionen oder aber
verschärft internationale Migration bestehende globale
bzw. internationale Ungleichheitsstrukturen? Auf die-
se Grundfrage können weder die Herausgeberin noch
die Einzelbeiträge eine letztlich gültige Antwort lie-
fern. Zwar verweist die Herausgeberin in ihrem Ein-
leitungsbeitrag auf die “increasing international strati-
fication of societies” (540), gleichwohl können weder
die differenzierten Wirkungen von Geldrücküberwei-
sungen quantifiziert und in ihrer Bedeutung für globale
Ungleichheit solide abgeschätzt werden, noch können
die Wechselwirkungen zwischen Migration und sozialer
Ungleichheit von den anderen Faktoren isoliert betrach-
tet werden, die die globalen Ungleichheitsstrukturen
ebenfalls beeinflussen (wie z. B. weltweite Finanz-
und Kapital- sowie Warenströme oder politische Kon-
flikte).
Die Einzelbeiträge geben interessante Einblicke in
die neueren Forschungen über internationale und trans-
nationale Migrationsprozesse (wobei im gesamten Heft
diese Termini nirgendwo explizit unterschieden und
definiert werden). Dumitru Sandu zeigt am Beispiel
rumänischer Dörfer mit hoher Migration auf, dass kon-
zentrierte Pendelbewegungen im Sinne zirkulärer und
temporärer Migration wesentlich durch die jeweiligen
dörflichen Strukturen und weniger durch individuel-
le Entscheidungen bestimmt sind. Tatjana Nikolaevna
Yudina gibt einen guten Einblick in die Situation inter-
nationaler Migration in Moskau zu Beginn des 21. Jhs.
und beschreibt die eher zurückhaltende bis intolerante
Haltung der Mehrheit der Moskauer Bevölkerung ge-
genüber diesen neuen Phänomenen.
Susanne Binder und Jelena Tosic beschreiben die
Situation bosnischer Kriegsflüchtlinge in Wien; während
alle anderen Beiträge Arbeitsmigration zum Gegen-
stand haben, wird hier die doch wesentlich andere
Ausgangssituation im Rahmen von Flüchtlingsmigra-
tion deutlich: Im Rahmen der EU-weiten Flüchtlings-
politik werden diese Menschen weitgehend als passive
und nur vorübergehend geduldete Hilfsempfänger be-
trachtet, deren Rückführung und nicht Integration Haupt-
anliegen staatlicher Politiken ist. Petra Dannecker zeigt
am Beispiel der Migration von Bangladeshi-Frauen
nach Malaysia auf, dass neue transnationale Räume
sehr stark durch geschlechtsspezifisch strukturierte Netz-
werke gebildet werden; dies hängt nicht zuletzt auch
mit den entsprechenden Politiken der Aufnahmelän-
der sowie der männlichen Migranten zusammen. Eric
Popkin beschreibt die komplexen Prozesse ethnischer
Identitätsbildung und -entwicklungen bei guatemalteki-
schen Maya-Migranten nach/in Los Angeles, die zwi-
schen einer stärkeren Betonung ethnischer Wurzeln in
Guatemala bis hin zur Auflösung Letzterer in einer
Latino-Community reichen.
Schließlich stellt Anja Weiss Ergebnisse einer Un-
tersuchung zur Transnationalisierung sozialer Ungleich-
heitsstrukturen am Beispiel von drei nach Qualifikatio-
nen sehr unterschiedlichen Migrantengruppen dar; für
hochqualifizierte Arbeitsmigranten bestehen weder in
der Ankunftsregion (hier: Deutschland) noch in anderen
Ländern große Beschäftigungs- und Aufenthaltsproble-
me, sie können sich im Extremfall als Kosmopoliten
bewegen und fühlen; die weniger Qualifizierten sind
wesentlich stärker von den wohlfahrtsstaatlichen bzw.
protektionistischen Regelungen der Herkunfts- und An-
kunftsstaaten abhängig; noch prekärer stellt sich die
Situation für Migrantinnen und Migranten aus Regionen
(z. B. Afrikas) dar, in denen Staatlichkeit im westlichen
Sinne nicht (mehr) existiert.
Insgesamt ist diese Ausgabe der Current Sociolo-
gy für alle an internationaler Migration Interessierten
ein interessanter Einblick in innovative und aktuelle
Einzelfall- und Regionalstudien. Der einleitende Arti-
kel der Herausgeberin enthält bekannte und bis heute
nicht eindeutig beantwortete (und wahrscheinlich auch
nicht eindeutig zu beantwortende) Fragestellungen zum
allgemeinen Verhältnis von Migration und Entwicklung.
Leider wird die Diskussion um transnationale Migration
und Transnationalismus nicht wirklich aufgenommen; so
fehlen Hinweise auf die neueren Veröffentlichungen von
Alejandro Portes, von Steven Vertovec und von Peggy
Lewitt, ebenso die Referenz auf die Sondernummern der
Zeitschriften International Migration Review und Ethnie
and Racial Studies aus dem Jahre 2003.
Leider wird auch das große Thema des Zusammen-
hangs von Migration, Entwicklung und Demographie
nicht aufgenommen, zu dem z. B. ein interessantes Buch
von Michael S. Teitelbaum und Jay Winter (A Question
of Numbers. High Migration, Low Fertility, Politics
of National Identity. New York 1998) vorliegt. Diese
und andere Forschungsbefunde und Diskussionsbeiträge
wären unverzichtbar gewesen für eine angemessene und
erschöpfende Diskussion des Themas Migration und
Entwicklung bzw. transnationale Migration und soziale
Transformationen. Allerdings erscheint ein solches The-
ma für die Behandlung in einem einzigen einleitenden
Aufsatz wohl auch zu groß zu sein. Auch so bieten die
einzelnen Beiträge eine interessante und zu weiteren em-
pirischen und theoretischen Studien anregende Lektüre.
Ludger Pries
Stammei, Manfred: Die Wahrnehmung von Wohl-
stand und Armut. Geistesgeschichtliche Entwicklung
und indigene Kognition am Beispiel einer erweiter-
ten Verwandtschaftsgruppe in Teheran. Berlin: Wissen-
schaftlicher Verlag Berlin, 2005. 342 pp. ISBN 3-86573-
064-7. Preis: € 38.00.
This study was submitted as a doctoral thesis to the
Department of Social Anthropology at the University
of Cologne, Germany. It deals with the perception
of wealth and poverty from an historico-philosophical
Anthropos 101.2006
654
Rezensionen
and an empirical perspective. The empirical part is
a cognitive-anthropological study of the perception of
these concepts in Teheran. As such, it is meant to be a
critique of “Western” economic ethics and the common
practice of quantifying wealth and poverty according to
monetary values.
The book is divided into two clearly distinguishable
parts; In the first part, Stammel discusses the issues in
question from an historical and philosophical perspec-
tive, the second part is, then, dedicated to the empirical,
anthropological study. There are four “chapters” that are
extremely different in length, ranging from 20 to 150
pages. The first part is also the first chapter: “Theo-
ries and Models of the Universal Conceptualisation of
Wealth and Poverty.” Chapter two briefly introduces
“Cognition as the Key to Indigenous Views of Wealth
and Poverty,” chapter three describes the “Case Study
of an Extended Kinship Group in Teheran,” and the final
chapter provides a “Summary and Interpretation of the
Results.”
The first chapter provides a rather lengthy description
of the philosophical debates about what constitutes “the
good life.” In a tour de force, the reader is taken through
the elaborations of ethics by Socrates, Plato, Aristotle,
and Epicurus. Their different views on how human
beings can or should lead fulfilled and satisfied lives,
and what constitutes ultimate happiness, determine their
practical philosophies of “correct behaviour” or ethics.
Without much discussion, this subsection is immedi-
ately followed by a description of Christian and Islamic
ethics. Whereas Christian ethics are discussed with a
particular focus on the economy - mainly based on
Weber’s analysis of the “Protestant Ethics and the Spirit
of Capitalism” - Islamic economic ethics are only a
one-page addendum to a broad introduction to the ba-
sics of Islam (scriptures, “five pillars,” politics). The
particular Shi’a views - which dominate in Iran - are
not taken into account here.
The third subsection in this part is dedicated to a
description of the historical development of economics’
approaches to wealth and poverty, surveying Adam
Smith’s work (mainly his “Theory of Moral Sentiments
and Wealth of Nations”) and neoclassical theories of
need, demand, use, and value. The purpose of this long
chapter, it seems, is to show how ancient philosophical
ideas about “the good life” have eventually been devel-
oped into neoclassical views about the quantification of
wealth and poverty in a capitalist context (103).
In his description of this development, Stammel
pauses at three specific points - ancient Greece, the
Protestant Reformation and a timeless Islam, and 18th-
to 20th-century economic theory and history - with ex-
tended elaborations, but discusses recent developments
in the debate about the perception of poverty (more so
than wealth) on one half-page only. His criticism of or-
ganisations such as the World Bank or the International
Monetary Fund and their policies are certainly justified,
but he does not do justice to the poverty alleviation
work of smaller organisations, especially NGOs, at the
grassroots. Many of them have taken the critique of
the nonquantifiability of poverty on board and have
developed research tools, such as PRAs, to improve
their strategies. It is rather curious that such a debate of
current practices, which is a crucial part (and critique)
of this study (15), is totally missing. Apart from the
reference to Max Weber’s work, there is also no discus-
sion of the interlinkages between philosophy, religion
(particularly how Islamic and Christian ethics feed into
each other), political ideologies, and social practices that
have an impact on the construction of perceptions of
wealth and poverty.
Moreover, part of the justification of this study is the
lack of research in the field of “perceptions” of wealth
and poverty that go beyond quantifiable indicators and
monetary value. In a footnote (15), Stammel mentions
a dozen or so such studies without, however, engaging
in any substantial discussion of them. By ignoring the
significant anthropological and especially feminist work
that has been done in this area, he actually provides a
distorted rationale for his study.
The second chapter is a 20-page summary and
introduction to cognitive anthropology, which forms the
basis of the chosen research methods in this study. The
reader is taken through the individual steps of such a
methodology; freelists, pilesorts, taxonomies, etc. Even
though it is good practice to account for one’s research
methods, such a lengthy and general description seems
superfluous, especially as it is not kept on an abstract
level and not discussed specifically for the research
situation (which happens later in chapter three).
In the following chapter, Stammel describes in much
detail (and on almost 50 pages) the history, geography,
and population of Iran, and Teheran. This description
is entirely unrelated to the research problem and lacks
direction. There would have been plenty of scope to
focus the discussion on “poverty” and “wealth” in
history, economy, religion, politics, etc., to get a better
understanding of the contemporary debate of these
concepts, as discussed in the remaining part of the
study. Like the previous chapters, coherence between
them is not established; they stand unrelated to each
other and to the research questions. Furthermore, one
would assume that this book is being picked up by
people, who are, in one way or another, familiar with
the issues discussed. Therefore, the extremely detailed,
if not to say tedious accounts in the first half of the
book - philosophy, research methods, and Iranian his-
tory - are largely redundant and not original. The study
would have greatly benefited from being reduced by
half. However, the knowledgeable reader can easily skip
the first two and a half chapters.
It is not until the second part of chapter three
(170) that the actual fieldwork data is being discussed.
The previously introduced cognitive methods are now
applied and the data thus gathered is meticulously
presented on 100 pages. The informants were recruited
from the extended family group of Stammel’s Iranian-
born wife. They helped him to explore the indigenous
contents of the terms “poverty” and “wealth.”
Julia Droeber
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
655
Stewart, Pamela J., and Andrew Strathern: Witch-
craft, Sorcery, Rumors, and Gossip. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2004. 228 pp. ISBN 0-521-
00473-X. Price: £ 14.99
Einmal mehr wirft das eingespielte Wissenschaftler-
ehepaar Stewart/Strathern seine Netze aus, um nicht nur
in den kleinen, aber reichen Gewässern Papua Neugui-
neas (und/oder Schottlands) zu fischen, sondern - um
im Bild zu bleiben - aus verschiedenen Weltmeeren
und Seen das zusammenzutragen, was die Aufmerksam-
keit des geschulten Anthropologenblicks auf sich zieht.
Hexerei und Zauberei, Gerüchte und Klatsch heißen
die beiden Behälter, in die das Forschergespann die
“exotische” - und, wie sich zeigt, gar nicht so exo-
tische - “Beute” des ethnologischen Materials wirft.
Dabei legen die Autoren Wert darauf, dass zwischen
dem, was analytisch getrennt wird, ein Zusammenhang
besteht, der einem weiteren Kontext eingezeichnet ist:
“The two themes of our book are intrinsically, not
casually, linked together. Both belong to the broader stu-
dy of processes of conflict creation and resolution” (ix).
Indem die Problematik der beiden Themenbereiche in
umfassendere Perspektiven der sozialwissenschaftlichen
und historischen Analyse gestellt wird, beanspruchen die
Autoren, zu grundsätzlichen Ergebnissen zu gelangen,
die generelle anthropologische Aussagen und Schluss-
folgerungen im besten Sinne des Wortes zulassen.
Die Untersuchung stellt sich somit dar als eine Art
Suche nach (einem) Modell(en) von Konflikttransfor-
mation: Es geht darum, unter Berücksichtigung geistes-
geschichtlicher Kontexte und historischer Bedingungen
die genannten Phänomene - Hexerei und Zauberei,
Gerüchte und Klatsch - als Faktoren eines prozessualen
Interaktionsvorgangs zu begreifen, die nicht nur in Ge-
stalt kultureller Symbole die gesellschaftliche Wirklich-
keit formen, sondern sich auch in manifeste Verhaltens-
formen und Handlungsmuster transformieren können
und als solche ihre prägende Wirkung entfalten. In
der Durchführung vielleicht etwas verborgen, zieht sich
dabei als Grundthema die Annahme durch das Buch:
“Rumor and gossip ... form the common link between
processes of conflict belonging to different places and
historical periods” (xii) - wobei die Autoren jedoch
explizit die notwendige Re-Kontextualisierung ihrer Un-
tersuchung anmahnen. Dies gilt auch für das untersuch-
te Material, das ihrer Studie zugrunde liegt; Stewart/
Strathern verweisen wiederholt auf die Notwendigkeit,
den jeweiligen politischen Kontext, in dem es verortet
ist, strikt zu berücksichtigen.
Die Studie setzt mit einem Zweierschritt ein: Kapi-
tel 1 stellt unterschiedliche analytische Zugänge zum
Thema “Hexerei und Zauberei” vor und projektiert
den Zusammenhang mit dem Thema “Klatsch und
Gerüchte”, das im Mittelpunkt des zweiten Kapitels
steht. Stewart und Strathern zeigen, wie Hexerei und
Zauberei dazu dienen, Unglück aller Art zu erklären,
indem dieses mit Neid und Misstrauen in Verbin-
dung gebracht wird. Genau hier kommen Klatsch und
Gerüchte ins Spiel und können dramatische Prozesse
der Konflikteskalation auslösen. Forschungsgeschicht-
lich betrachtet sind hinsichtlich der Analyse der genann-
ten Themenkomplexe frühere, vornehmlich funktiona-
listisch orientierte Ansätze inzwischen abgelöst worden
durch Entwürfe, die stärker Konkurrenz und Spannungs-
beziehungen zwischen Individuen oder Netzwerken im
Kontext von Verteilungskämpfen unter verschärften Be-
dingungen in den Blick nehmen, wobei neben anthropo-
logischen insbesondere auch sozialpsychologische Per-
spektiven zunehmend an Bedeutung gewonnen haben.
In den folgenden Kapiteln präsentieren die Autoren
Material aus Afrika, Indien, Papua Neuguinea und Eu-
ropa sowie Nordamerika, wobei sich ihr Interesse darauf
konzentriert, das jeweilige Zusammenspiel von Hexerei
und Zauberei einerseits, Klatsch und Gerüchte anderer-
seits analytisch zu durchdringen und systematisch zu
rekonstruieren. Dabei ergeben sich aus dem Material
einige Akzentuierungen, die unterschiedliche Färbungen
der beiden Themenkomplexe und ihrer Beziehungen
zueinander erkennen lassen:
In Afrika bildet der Zusammenhang von Hexerei
und Modernisierung ein wiederkehrendes Motiv, wobei
Diskursen über Hexerei - in Gestalt von Gerüchten,
aber auch bis hin zu tatsächlichen Anklagen - eine
wichtige Rolle im Kontext gesellschaftlicher Transfor-
mationsprozesse zukommt.
Der Schwerpunkt der Analyse des Materials aus In-
dien wiederum liegt auf dem Konnex von Gerüchten
und antikolonialer Rebellion. Dabei wird jedoch die
Differenz des Zusammenhangs von Gerüchten und Anti-
Hexerei-Bewegungen einerseits, Gerüchten und mili-
tanten Unabhängigkeitsbewegungen andererseits, her-
vorgehoben; der Vergleich dient als hermeneutisches
Instrument zur Präsentation der weitreichenden Wirk-
kraft von Gerüchten.
Das Material aus Papua Neuguinea stellt Debatten
über Unterschiede und Gemeinsamkeiten von “Wunsch”
(desire) und “Gier” (greed) in den Mittelpunkt der Dar-
stellung; Gier gilt ja bekanntlich als besonders mächtiges
Motiv, das direkt in die Hexerei führt. Von besonde-
rer Bedeutung ist in diesem Zusammenhang auch die
Wirklichkeit schaffende Macht des Wortes, “the power
of talk, in particular its power to do harm” (139).
Das folgende Kapitel konzentriert sich auf die He-
xenverfolgungen des 16. und 17. Jhs. in Europa und
Nordamerika. Die Fallbeispiele illustrieren zum einen
den Zusammenhang von Hexereiphänomenen und ver-
schärften Konkurrenzbedingungen, zum anderen die
konstitutiv-destruktive Rolle von Gerüchten für die or-
ganisierte und institutionalisierte Hexenverfolgung wie
auch für die spontanen Ausbrüche gewalttätiger Über-
griffe des Straßenmobs auf der Hexerei Verdächtigte
oder Angeklagte, insbesondere in Nordamerika.
Hieraus ergibt sich logisch das Thema des nächsten
Kapitels, das systematisch die Gewalt erzeugende Wirk-
kraft von Gerüchten untersucht - eine Wirkkraft, de-
ren zerstörerische Macht gar nicht unterschätzt werden
kann: Nicht selten trugen und tragen Gerüchte dazu bei,
dass die aus politischem Kalkül intendierte Gewalt über
ihr Ziel hinausschießt und schließlich gegen die Absicht
ihrer Urheber aus dem Ruder läuft, was die Wechselbe-
Anthropos 101.2006
656
Rezensionen
Ziehung von Gerücht und Gewalt in schlagender Weise
erhellt: “in the world of rumor and gossip, perception is
all, and perceptions justify retaliatory violence” (193).
Im abschließenden Kapitel werden die in den vor-
hergehenden Abschnitten entfalteten Analysen und
systematischen Rekonstruktionen des Zusammenspiels
von Hexerei / Zauberei und Gerüchten / Klatsch noch-
mals kompiliert und ausgewertet, wobei sich diese Ver-
bindung nicht als ethnographisches Exoticum erweist,
sondern in seiner Grundstruktur ein transkulturelles
Phänomen darstellt, das für gesellschaftliche Interakti-
onsverläufe von konstitutiver Bedeutung ist. Mit Blick
auf Klatsch und Gerüchte konstatieren die Autoren “the
significance of rumor and gossip as constituent elements
of social process, elements that are not trivial or epi-
phenomenal but central and fundamental” (203). Denn
es geht um die Bedeutung informeller Kommunikations-
kanäle, die formal institutionalisierte politische Struktu-
ren unterminieren und zur Quelle neuer Machtstrukturen
werden können. Folglich, so die Autoren, ist die Thema-
tik “Klatsch und Gerüchte” nicht nur ein Studienobjekt
spezialisierter Disziplinen, sondern gehört in den Gegen-
standsbereich sozialwissenschaftlicher und politischer
Analysen generell, stellen Klatsch und Gerüchte doch
Kategorien menschlichen Verhaltens dar, die für die
Frage des friedlichen Zusammenlebens der Menschen
von unmittelbarer gesellschaftlicher Relevanz sind.
Die vorliegende Studie besticht dadurch, dass sie
systematische Zusammenschau und analytische Diffe-
renzierung synergetisch in Beziehung setzt. Stewart und
Strathem haben dabei einen weiten Bogen gespannt. Der
Verdacht, dass er an einigen Stellen überspannt sein
könnte, drängt sich dort auf, wo über bereits vertraute
Analogisierungen hinaus - z. B. die antikommunisti-
sche “Hexenjagd” der McCarthy-Ära - weitergehende
Analogien strapaziert werden. Problematisch sind dabei
nicht die Beispiele von Eskalationsszenarien im aka-
demischen Kontext, die mehrfach bemüht werden und
als ausgezeichnete Illustrationen der Eigendynamik von
Gerücht und übler Nachrede in Konfliktverläufen die-
nen. Schwierig wird es jedoch, wenn an verschiedenen
Stellen Terrorismus- und Hexerei-Diskurse parallelisiert
werden: Die Kategorisierung von Terroristen als “böse”
(evil) steht nach Meinung der Autoren in der Tradition
der mittelalterlicher Stigmatisierung von Hexen (24),
und der Gebrauch des Begriffs “Terrorismus” entspricht
in seinem zeitgenössischen Verwendungszusammenhang
sachlich dem Vorwurf satanistischen Kindesmissbrauchs
(87). “In short, the terrorist Stands in the same semantic
space as the witch or sorcerer in the eyes of the person or
people being terrorized” (195). Hier scheint denn doch
die Analogisierung etwas überreizt, zumal sich im Falle
des Terrorismus “Terrorismus-Diskurse” in Folge von
konkreten, “realen”, Terrorakten entwickeln, während
“Hexerei-Diskurse”, wie wir wissen, auf imaginierte
Handlungen Bezug nehmen.
Auf eine grundlegende, generelle Frage gibt auch
diese Studie keine Antwort: Unstrittig ist ja, dass Dis-
kurse Realitäten konstituieren - aber wo genau liegt
die Demarkationslinie zwischen diesen letztlich doch zu
unterscheidenden Dimensionen? Zu Recht betonen die
Autoren den Zusammenhang zwischen beiden, indem
sie Hexerei, Zauberei, Klatsch und Gerüchte nicht nur
als kulturelle Symbole verstehen, in denen eine be-
stimmte Weitsicht zum Ausdruck kommt, sondern “also
as deeply implicated in sequences of action” (ix; Hervor-
hebung von mir, KH). Den Grenzen - und Unterschie-
den - zwischen beiden Dimensionen nachzuspüren,
bleibt auch künftig Herausforderung an eine Forschung,
die über die jeweilige(n) Fachdisziplin(en) hinaus einen
grundsätzlichen Beitrag zur kritischen gesellschaftlichen
und politischen Analyse leisten will. Klaus Hock
Stoller, Paul: Gallery Bundu. A Story about an
African Past. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
2005. 195 pp. ISBN 0-226-77254-0. Price; $ 15.00
Il s’agit d’un Bildungsroman, d’une sorte de roman
d’éducation et d’initiation, qui a la particularité, et
l’intérêt pour nous, de se dérouler en Afrique de l’Ouest
francophone. Bundu signifie en langue songhay “bois
sculpté”, et le titre du livre se réfère à une galerie d’art
africain gérée en co-propriété à New York en 1998,
par un universitaire anthropologue de 52 ans, David
Lyons, et par sa compagne, Elli, d’origine libanaise -
par ailleurs consultante en psychologie.
David fait le bilan très positif de son expérience
africaine en racontant sa vie à Mamadou, un collecteur
d’objets qu’il a envoyé pendant cinq mois sur le terrain
et qui revient en Amérique pour lui vendre sa récolte.
Bien écrit et bien construit, cet ouvrage se lit avec grand
intérêt, et rappellera bien des souvenirs à tous ceux qui
connaissent l’Afrique.
Jeune Juif américain marqué à dix ans par la mort
de son père, David serait parti à l’âge de 23 ans servir
dans le Peace Corps, pour éviter la guerre du Vietnam,
comme professeur d’anglais à Téra, petite ville du Niger,
frontalière de l’actuel Burkina Faso. Non sans candeur,
il s’applique à l’apprentissage du français et du songhay.
Via Abidjan et Bouaké, il cumule maintes expériences,
depuis la chaleur, la soif, le manque d’hygiène, jusqu’à
l’art baoulé, l’affrontement avec les pouvoirs occultes
des chasseurs de serpents, une quinzaine gastronomique
à Niamey aux frais de l’administration, l’incertitude
des transports, etc. Vers la fin de l’année scolaire, il
éprouve la première passion de sa vie pour une très
belle demi-mondaine peule, Zeinabou.
A la suite d’un clash avec un directeur blanc ra-
ciste, il est muté sur le fleuve à Tillabéri, où il est
accueilli en “popote” par un aimable collègue français,
et par une Américaine célèbre pour être la maîtresse de
notables nigériens. Celle-ci s’enfuit un jour avec Tun
d’eux, abandonnant un énorme stock de haschisch à un
puisatier américain buveur de bière, mais parlant bien
songhay. Ce Billy entraîne David dans le Sahel vers
Ouallam, à deux bonnes journées de marche. Ils seraient
morts de soif sans le genre de rencontre improbable qui
survient souvent en Afrique. David en sort aguerri.
A la toute fin de son séjour au Niger, il apprend
que Zeinabou est enceinte. Il a fait connaissance avec
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
657
un vieux et fameux tisserand, Amadu, qui l’initie à son
métier, et lit son retour ultérieur dans l’oracle des cauris.
Après cinq ans d’études aux USA, David revient avec
une bourse Fullbright d’un an (1976-77). Amadu le
remet au tissage, et lui apprend qu’il doit aussi l’ouvrir
aux mystères de la magie et de la divination par les
cauris, mais que cette initiation se “paye” : n’a-t-il pas
lui-même perdu six de ses huit enfants ? David accepte
l’augure de ce genre de “paiement”.
David recherche Zeinabou disparue, qu’il a vexée
pour avoir dit n’être pas sûr de sa paternité, mais il
lui a envoyé pour son garçon des mandats mensuels,
dont les derniers lui ont été retournés. Il trouve à
sa place une femme dans la même situation qu’elle,
qu’il prend en amitié : le fils de cette femme deviendra
grand footballeur. Il fait la connaissance du meilleur
vendeur local d’art africain, Diop, avec qui il effectue
une tournée dans les pays voisins, et qui lui propose
un partenariat. La veille de son départ, à la caisse
d’une boutique, il tombe sur Zeinabou devenue riche
commerçante. A sa demande, elle lui montre la photo
d’un garçon, en qui il discerne avec émotion ses propres
traits.
En 1991, le professeur David Lyons, conférencier
Fullbright, est pour trois semaines l’invité du Centre
culturel américain de Niamey. C’est à cette occasion
qu’il rencontre l’attachée psychologue de l’ambassade,
Elli, séparée d’un diplomate ; ils boivent et s’aiment.
Ensemble, ils décident avec Diop de fonder ce que ce
dernier nomme la “Gallery Bundu”. Elli exhorte David à
retrouver son fils - ce qu’il fait in extremis sous la figure
d’un sorbonnard doctorant en économie politique, imbu
de Marx et de Fanon. Mamadou remercie le conteur en
lui révélant - ce que le lecteur découvrira par soi-même
- quel a été le prix réel d’un tel parcours initiatique.
Quelques erreurs de détail : le président de Côte
d’ivoire nommé “Houphoute-Boigny” (27), le “Burkina
Faso” cité en 1976-1977 (120-122) pour la “Haute
Volta” qui subsiste jusqu’en 1983 ; et surtout l’invrai-
semblance de la finale : David est censé n’avoir songé
toute sa vie qu’à rencontrer son fils. Or, la boutique
de la mère n’a pas bougé entre 1977 et 1991 : il est
étrange qu’il n’ait osé aller la voir qu’à la fin de ses
3 semaines de séjour en 1991, et même qu’il n’ait
pas songé plus tôt à écrire à son garçon ! A quoi bon
cette si longue et coûteuse initiation pour rester aussi
timide ou empêtré ? A moins que l’amour d’Elli seul en
soit le couronnement ? Pour ne rien dire, bien sûr, des
réserves que peut susciter l’abus de drogue et d’alcool,
ou la pertinence du trafic des œuvres d’art africaines
•.. Par ailleurs, il faut avouer que le statut de métis,
même de père inconnu, est loin d’être, dans certains pays
francophones d’Afrique Centrale, aussi dur qu’il paraît
l’être ici. Quant au versement régulier d’argent pour un
enfant, il est inexact, selon la plupart des coutumes,
qu’il n’engendre aucun droit, bien au contraire (malgré
l’importance avouée du “dash”, bravement mise en
scène au cours du récit, le rôle de l’argent y est souvent
minimisé pour y donner de l’Afrique une image plus
noble ...).
Mais ces réserves n’empêchent pas que nous retrou-
vions quand même, tout au long de ce passionnant ro-
man, les saveurs, les surprises, les richesses, l’aventure,
la magie de l’Afrique, magnifiée par un écrivain qui la
connaît bien, et qui l’aime certainement avec sincérité
et profondeur. Philippe Laburthe-Tolra
Taylor, Colin F., and Hugh A. Dempsey (eds.);
The People of the Buffalo. The Plains Indians of North
America. Essays in Honor of John C. Ewers; vol. 1:
Military Art, Warfare, and Change. Wyk auf Fohr: Ta-
tanka Press, 2003. 183 pp. ISBN 3-89510-101-X. Price:
€ 50.00
During a ceremonial service for John C. Ewers,
which took place at the National Museum of Natural
History, Smithsonian Institution, in 1997, the editors,
both well-known scholars in Plains Indian anthropology
and long-time friends and colleagues of this influential
anthropologist in the same field, developed the idea
of a publication in commemoration of his scientific
contributions. When they asked for papers they received
much more than they had expected, hence, they arranged
them in two volumes, of which this is the first one.
Aside from a foreword by Bill Holm and an editorial
note by Hugh Dempsey and the late Colin Taylor, the
book is subdivided into six parts. As expected, the first
part is dedicated to John C. Ewers. “Researching the
Plains Indians” comprises two different approaches of
the editors to commemorate this extraordinary anthro-
pologist. Dempsey’s contribution is the more personal
one and can be recommended warmly to young scien-
tists because it contains much life experience of two
persons sharing friendship and knowledge over a long
period.
Part two, “Military Art: An Overview,” consists of
only one article by John C. Ewers. The editors didn’t
fall back upon an essay already published, instead
they obtained the text, a lecture which Ewers held
in 1984, from the National Anthropological Archives,
Smithsonian Institution, where his unpublished works
are now kept. Hence, the reader can once more enjoy his
method of using different kinds of sources and his very
readable style. Taking Ewers’s article, which touches
upon Plains Indian warfare at a general level but without
neglecting interesting details, as a starting point, the
essays chosen for the first volume discuss topics more
or less connected to this complex.
Hence, the third part is dedicated to “Warfare:
History, Tactics, and Pictography.” As the chapters
are arranged chronologically, the first one written by
Kingsley M. Bray deals with the eventful history of
an Oneota trade center from about 1500 to 1700 A.D.,
which was situated along the Big Sioux River at the
Iowa-South Dakota border. Castle McLaughlin draws
the reader’s attention to a pictographic bison robe at
the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology
at Harvard University. Although its “authenticity” as a
Mandan robe collected on the 1804-1806 Lewis and
Clark expedition has been questioned for quite some
Anthropos 101.2006
658
Rezensionen
time, McLaughlin’s research is the first systematical
one. In short, her results are that the robe could have
also been acquired in the 1820s and its ethnic origin is
unsure as well. On the basis of three individual accounts
- one written by the French-Canadian fur trader Jean-
Baptiste Truteau in 1796, the recollections of George
Sword (Lakota), and those of Roaming Scout (Pawnee)
recorded in the 1910s - Raymond J. DeMallie and
Douglas R. Parks examine the motives of Plains Indian
warfare. Ake Hultkrantz and Christer Lindberg trace the
development of warfare between the Shoshone and the
Blackfoot; like the authors of the previous essay, they
also use statements by both Native North Americans
and Euro-Americans. It is proven by David Fridtjof
Halaas and Andrew E. Masich in a very impressive way
that ledger book drawings are trustworthy sources. Their
examples from the Cheyenne Dog Soldier ledger book
show how even details can give evidence of historical
events.
“Symbolism” in connection with warfare is the
topic of the essays of the fourth part. Thus, Winfield
Coleman’s research on shamanic symbolism in the art
of Cheyenne berdache or transvestite men covers not
only their female side but also their male one, as well
as their special religious status which associates them
with war aspects, too. The two following contributions
connect to warfare more obviously. Imre Nagy examines
the spiritual oeuvre of the Cheyenne Low Forehead,
which led to a distribution of protective shield designs
among his people. Using all the sources he could obtain,
e.g., information from James Mooney’s field notes as
well as the shield models he commissioned, depictions
of shields in Cheyenne ledger drawings, and one still
existing specimen, he procures a table of all shield
designs he found arranged according to their similarity
and a history of their ownership. Spiritual protection also
plays a role in Paul Raczka’s article on war medicines
of the northern Plains. Taking those of the Blackfoot
as a starting point, for which he provides various clues
of relations to the bundle complex which was strongly
developed among them, he presents further examples
from neighboring tribes.
Although “Memories and Change,” the heading of
part five, doesn’t sound as if it had anything to do
with warfare, it’s essays partly contribute to this theme.
George P. Horse Capture gives a short description of
the Blackfoot willow stick horses, which were in use
as children’s toys at least till the 1940s. Mdewakanton
Women and their strategies to survive are the focus of
attention in Barbara Feezor Buttes’s essay. After the
1862 uprising, the members of this Santee Sioux tribe
rightly feared revengeful actions by white Minnesotans
and tried to omit contacts. The following restriction to
reservations and the influence of missionaries made it
difficult to maintain the collecting and usage of plants
for medical purposes. Hence, these women kept their
memories alive by depicting medicine plants in their
beadworks, and their recollections are very interesting
in general. The last three articles are also rather short,
but nevertheless cover their topics adequately. Richard
A. Pohrt shares his knowledge of a Gros Ventre tent
design with the reader, which he acquired from two
different persons as a youth. Only later in life did he
come to the conclusion that the information he obtained
then referred to one and the same painting. Carling I.
Malouf describes the interesting life story of a Hidatsa
man. Bear-In-The-Water alias Adlai Stevenson was bom
in 1866. He belonged to the group of a Hidatsa chief
who decided after an argument with other chiefs and
with the responsible agent to live in a separate village
outside of the Fort Berthold Reservation in 1870, where
they stayed until 1891. Although he was fairly advanced
in years at the time of the interview, he had vivid
memories of his youth when he worked as a scout
for the U.S.-Army and as deputy federal marshal. The
last contributor to the publication speaks of his own
recollections. When Joseph Medicine Crow was a child
it was arranged by adult relatives during a friendly visit
to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation that a Sioux boy
could count coup on him as a member of the Crow,
their former enemies. As a young adult, Medicine Crow
participated in World War II and was afterwards honored
for his war deeds by his elders.
Part six is a small appendix, which comprises infor-
mation on the cover and the chapter illustrations as well
as on the authors, the latter of which was compiled by
the publisher Dietmar Kuegler, and an index.
What the authors of this volume have in common
is their long involvement in Native North American
anthropological research. But it is also a scientific com-
munity with different backgrounds; some are university-
trained persons whereas others learned by doing, and
some are descendants from Native North Americans,
whereas others have only Euro-American ancestors.
Nevertheless, their contributions are very homogeneous
insofar as the topics are well researched, the style is
very readable, and they use various types of sources
such as published and unpublished written documents,
indigenous pictographs, photographs, and drawings by
Euro-Americans, as well as items from the material
culture. All these traits are characteristic of Ewers’s
publications, hence, he would probably have liked and
enjoyed this contribution in his remembrance just as well
as I do. Dagmar Siebelt
Toffin, Gérard : Ethnologie. La quête de l’autre.
Paris : Éditions Acropole, 2005. 157 pp. ISBN 2-7357-
0237-5. Prix : € 22.00
L’ouvrage très richement illustré de G. Toffin, di-
recteur de recherches au Centre National de Recherche
Scientifique et spécialiste des civilisations de l’Himalaya,
se présente comme une introduction certes succincte,
mais très bien étayée, à l’ethnologie. Il montre assez
longuement d’où elle vient, comment elle s’est consti-
tuée, puis quelles ont été les principaux courants de
pensée qui l’ont traversée et les principales personnalités
qui l’ont illustrée; il montre enfin ce qu’elle devient
aujourd’hui où les conditions qui ont présidé à son
premier développement ont disparu et où elle est l’objet
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
659
à la fois d’engouements et de fortes remises en ques-
tion. Le mode d’écriture adopté par l’auteur est d’une
totale limpidité et évite tout jargon. L’exposé historique
et théorique est introduit par le récit de sa première
expérience de “terrain” au Népal, et tout au long du
texte on trouvera des touches à la première personne
qui donnent à l’ensemble une coloration personnelle. Il
fourmille en détails significatifs qu’on trouve difficile-
ment ailleurs.
Comme manifestement le panorama esquissé par
G. Toffin s’adresse au grand public, il serait mal venu de
lui reprocher de s’être imposé des limites et donc d’avoir
opéré des choix toujours difficiles en pareil cas. Il est
question pour l’essentiel de trois ethnologies nationales :
l’américaine, l’anglaise et la française. Comme presque
toujours quand il s’agit d’auteurs français, la riche eth-
nologie de langue allemande est à peine effleurée. Je me
réjouis par contre de voir que la distinction traditionnelle
entre ethnographie, ethnologie et anthropologie a été
maintenue, ce qui évite que tout soit noyé dans un
concept fourre-tout.
La partie de l’ouvrage la plus innovante et sans doute
la plus utile est la dernière : “L’ethnologie aujourd’hui”.
Du fait qu’au départ la discipline a été définie par un
objet purement matériel, l’humanité “primitive”, la crise
était inévitable une fois que celle-ci s’est trouvée insérée
tant bien que mal dans le monde moderne. L’auteur suit
avec beaucoup d’attention les inévitables reconversions
épistémologiques auxquelles notre discipline a été sou-
mise. De la part des observateurs comme des observés,
le regard a changé, et s’est même “inversé”. De l’étude
de sociétés qu’on croyait “simples”, on en est venu aux
complexes. D’une ethnologie de la distance - “astrono-
mie des sciences humaines” -, on a passé de plus en
plus à une ethnologie de la proximité, à une “ethnologie
à la maison”. Qu’on me permette de formuler un regret :
on voit mal ce qui, sur le plan proprement théorique, a
inspiré les nombreux courants de pensée qui ont succédé
au structuralisme, un magma dans lequel il n’est pas
facile de se retrouver.
Cet ouvrage vivant, même plaisant, et pourtant très
solide, donne une image nuancée, réaliste et néanmoins
optimiste d’une discipline qui en deux cents ans a
toujours su trouver un nouveau souffle. Pierre Erny
van den Borne, Francine: Trying to Survive in
Times of Poverty and AIDS. Women and Multiple
Partner Sex in Malawi. Amsterdam: Het Spinhuis, 2005.
362 pp. ISBN 90-5589-223-0. Price: €35.00
This book will be of interest to a wide range of
readers: to scholars, and also lay people seeking to
understand the AIDS epidemic in Africa and those
whose main concern is to develop interventions to halt
the spread of the epidemic, and to mitigate its effect
on communities and individuals. It should also be read
by fund-raisers who support intervention projects. In the
case of the latter it demonstrates admirably the unique
contribution that a careful and nuanced ethnographic
approach can bring to understanding the epidemic, and
to providing a critique of the conventional wisdom lying
behind the espousal of many approaches to intervention.
This book exposes clearly how ungrounded and ill-
prepared some of these have been, in their theoretical
underpinning, and in their understanding of the societies
that well-meaning activists have entered with “ready
made” models and answers. An important lesson of the
book is, furthermore, that even relatively short periods
of creative ethnography can add a level of understanding
seldom, if ever, achieved by other quantitative methods
and large-scale and expensive survey work.
For those unfamiliar with the methods of anthropol-
ogy and ethnography, the author’s engaging and de-
tailed description of how she conducted her research
and how she approached the challenges of reaching
beyond the widespread mistrust of her presence and
motives, to develop an understanding of the complex-
ities of women’s (and men’s) lives, will be both fas-
cinating and instructive. Thus, while this book tells us
a great deal about AIDS in Malawi, it also serves as
a means of explaining to nonanthropologists, what the
discipline “does” and can contribute to scientific debate.
It would make excellent reading for graduate courses
in research methodology, as well as in ethnography
specifically.
For many professional colleagues and also for
African AIDS and gender activists, there may be little
that is startlingly new in this volume. The basic message
of the chapters dealing with the ambiguities of marriage,
the pressures on poor women to survive, and multi-
partner sex, are well-trodden and understood highways
to HIV infection. However, the descriptions of bar life
and interactions in the world of AIDS are written with
verve and sympathy. Similarly the author’s assessment
of the dynamics of social and sexual networking, and
what van den Borne chooses to refer to as “bartering
sex,” add a perceptive commentary on the day-to-day
dynamics behind the spread of infection. Indeed they
capture a reality invoked only in narrative and some-
times in biographical writing. The researcher allows her
research participants to “speak” for themselves in the
many verbatim quotations out of which she skillfully
weaves her thesis. That it echoes and deepens many
“flatter” and less personalised descriptions and analyses
by other researchers, is a positive commentary on the
success of her methodology. I was particularly struck
by the comments made by the author on the way in
which the different strategies and tactics being devel-
oped and adopted by women in close contact with each
other, clashed and impinged on their ongoing interac-
tion. These women are not portrayed as victims and
nor are their actions white-washed and overly justified.
The author’s use of the notion of agency, while not
novel in itself, is well-worked out and ample evidence is
given to support van den Borne’s use of this theoretical
construct as a major peg of her analysis. In summary,
those seeking major new insights or breakthroughs in
understanding the epidemic may be disappointed in this
book. There are, in addition, no theoretical pyrotechnics.
The theoretical underpinnings of the book are relatively
Anthropos 101.2006
660
Rezensionen
simple and currently standard fare. I have, however,
seldom found them as accessibly and skillfully outlined
and supported.
This is, indeed, an holistic study which demonstrates
the value of the author’s approach beyond any doubt.
Although van den Borne is clearly present throughout
the volume, she does not impose her own feelings in an
exhibitionist manner. Where she feels it is necessary to
take a definite stance, she does not, however, hesitate
to do so. An excellent example comes early in the
book when she is discussing the challenges facing the
fieldwork and her methodological creativity in meeting
these. She ponders the ethical dilemmas raised by her
decision to use what she terms “mystery clients” in
observations and discussions where insisting that the
fieldworkers not only reveal their identity as researchers,
but seek consent to pursue or continue to research,
could well have jeopardised the research. She outlines
meticulously the ethical arguments against this practice
and chronicles her decision to go ahead despite these.
She weighs the benefits of her “unethical” decision
against “universal” ethical standards which in fact,
it was clear from discussions with members of the
community, do not appear to be universal at all! This
discussion is a unique addition to the literature on the
“local” and “global” locus of ethical precepts.
This is a well-written and enjoyable book. The style
will be accessible to a wide range of audiences, to
some of whom, at least, it should provide a completely
new way of looking at and understanding the AIDS
epidemic. Fellow anthropologists will appreciate it for
its thoroughness and its contributions to ongoing debates
in ethics, gender, and methodological innovation.
Eleanor Preston-Whyte
Walter, Mariko Namba, and Eva Jane Neumann
Fridman (eds.): Shamanism. An Encyclopedia of World
Beliefs, Practices, and Culture; 2 vols. Santa Barbara:
ABC-CLIO, 2004. 1055 pp. ISBN 1-57607-645-8. Price:
$ 185.00
Schamanismus ist einer der umstrittensten Termini
der Religionswissenschaft und der Ethnologie. Da sehr
unterschiedliche Phänomene darunter verstanden wer-
den, variiert seine Einschätzung zwischen dem Verständ-
nis als eigene Religion vs. Praktik, die Religion ergänzt,
als lokal (auf Sibirien oder noch Korea oder noch Nord-
amerika) begrenztes Phänomen vs. Menschheitsreligion.
Je nach Standpunkt kann man hören, dass es gar keinen
Schamanismus gebe, sondern dass dieser ein Konstrukt
der Wissenschaft sei, oder aber, dass er allerorten hin-
ter allen erdenklichen Phänomenen zu entdecken sei.
Welche Erwartungen verknüpfen sich also an eine um-
fangreiche Enzyklopädie wie die hier zu besprechende?
Sie sollte klar über die Diskussion des Schamanismus-
begriffes Auskunft geben und sie sollte weltweit alles,
was für Schamanismus reklamiert wird, auf aktuellem
Stand besprechen.
Für beide Herausgeberinnen ist es wichtig, Scha-
manismus aus der religionskritischen Betrachtung als
Geisteskrankheit und rückständige Religionsform her-
auszuholen und auf seine aktuelle Vitalität hinzuweisen.
Was also ist das Ergebnis ihrer Arbeit?
Rein äußerlich: zwei sehr ansprechende Bände, ge-
druckt auf gutem Papier, reich bebildert, übersicht-
lich gegliedert, mit Basis-Literaturangaben und Quer-
verweisen versehen. Nach einer Einleitung (xv-xxviii)
folgen die einzelnen Artikel unter Oberbegriffen, inner-
halb derer dann die alphabetische Ordnung gilt. Ober-
kapitel sind: “General Themes in World Shamanism”
(1-274), “North America” (275-364), “Central and
South America” (365-464) und “Europe” (465-522).
Damit schließt der 1. Band. Band 2 enthält “Eurasia”
(523-652), “Korea and Japan” (653-704), “China and
Sino-Asia” (705-739), “South Asia, the Himalayas,
and Tibet” (741-798), “Southeast Asia” (799-850),
“Australasia and Oceania” (851-884) und “Africa”
(885-961). Diese Unterteilung ist höchst zweckmäßig,
da man ohne langes Blättern und Suchen sogleich jene
Artikel findet, die für das eigene Interessengebiet von
Bedeutung sind. Obwohl die Einzelartikel Literaturan-
gaben enthalten, folgt am Ende des 2. Bandes eine
umfangreiche Bibliographie mit Werken bis Erschei-
nungsjahr 2002 (963-1026), es folgen Angaben über
die Mitarbeiter und, besonders löblich, ein ausführlicher
Index (1035-1054).
Zum Inhalt, den ich freilich nur stichprobenweise
und an meinen eigenen Interessen orientiert überprüfen
kann. Ich beginne mit dem “Preface”, das zu lesen sich
lohnt, da hier der Ansatz des Werkes abgesteckt wird.
Fridman macht hier nicht nur ihre Position deutlich,
wonach Schamanismus ein weltweites, dabei je nach
Kultureinbettung unterschiedliches und zudem aktuelles,
lebendiges Phänomen ist. Sie liefert auch gleich eine
Definition: “Shamanism can be definded as a religious
belief System in which the shaman is the specialist in
knowledge. The shaman knows the Spirit world and
human soul through ‘ecstasy,’ the power of an altered
state of consciousness, or trance, which is used to make
a connection to the world of the spirits in order to
bring about benefits to the community” (xi). Die Frage
nach der Definition wird von M. Namba Walter in der
“Introduction” in gleichem Sinne besprochen. Einige
überkommene Definitionen können abgelöst werden.
Beispielsweise ist es heute unsinnig, Schamanismus
als Glaubenssystem zu verstehen, dessen Anhänger als
Gesellschaften vom Schamanen abhängen. Längst ist der
Schamane “Dienstleister” unter anderen geworden und
oft nicht mehr prägendes Element seiner Gesellschaft.
Über M. Eliade hinausgehend schließt die Enzyklopädie
auch Besessenheitsphänomene ein, bei denen die Geister
die Initiative ergreifen und bei denen der Schamane
von Geistern “besessen” ist, die durch den Schamanen
sprechen. Dieses und noch mehr wird jeweils kurz
angesprochen und mit Autoren und Quellenangaben
gestützt. Dennoch ist mir als Religionswissenschaftler
gerade dieser Teil zu kurz geraten. Die Diskussion
über den Schamanismusbegriff ist so umstritten, dass
ihre Aufarbeitung in einer solchen Enzyklopädie weit
umfangreicher hätte sein sollen.
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
661
Der Artikel “Psychopathology and Shamanism”
(211-217) berührt eine der Grundfragen nicht nur des
Schamanismus, sondern der Erklärung für religiöse Phä-
nomene wie Visionen, Auditionen, mystische Erlebnisse
usw. überhaupt. Der Status der psychischen Erkran-
kung wird von den Autoren des Artikels (C. J. Throop
and J. L. Doman) vom gesellschaftlichen Umfeld wie
auch von einem “westlichen” Standpunkt her beurteilt.
Sie kommen zu dem Ergebnis, dass der Schamane nach
beiden Messlatten nicht als “krank” gelten kann. Bezüg-
lich der Frage nach Schizophrenie bei Schamanen folgen
sie R. Noll, der wesentliche Unterschiede zwischen der
Symptomatik von Schizophrenie und schamanischen
Bewusstseinszuständen konstatiert. Dagegen argumen-
tiert René Dehnhardt (Schamanismus und Schizophrenie.
Frankfurt 2003), indem er herausarbeitet, dass ältere Un-
tersuchungen von romantisierenden Schamanenbildern
geprägt waren oder kulturbedingte Faktoren außer Acht
gelassen haben. Er kommt in seiner Studie über sibiri-
sche Schamanen zu dem Ergebnis, dass alle Symptome
für Schizophrenie erfüllt sind. In Bezug auf die Frage
nach psychischer Krankheit stimmt er wieder mit Noll
überein, dass man nämlich Schamanen nicht für krank
und damit behandlungsbedürftig ansehen dürfe, da sie in
ihr kulturelles Umfeld integriert seien. Dehnhardt selbst
erklärt, dass eine quantitative Studie seine qualitative
ergänzen müsste. Hinzu käme, die Frage für andere Kul-
turkreise zu untersuchen. Jedenfalls zeigt Dehnhardts
Buch besser als ein vergleichsweise kurzer Lexikonar-
tikel, dass noch viel Forschungsarbeit zu leisten ist und
dass man sehr differenziert vorzugehen hat.
Nachdem in Teilen der Russischen Föderation der
Schamanismus wieder aufgelebt ist, stellt sich die Frage,
ob dies auch in den zentralasiatischen GUS-Republiken
der Fall ist. V. Basilov oder der Literat Tschingis Aitma-
tov berichten noch für die 50er Jahre von Schamanen.
David Somfai Kara hat es unternommen, den schwie-
rigen Artikel über “Kirghiz Shamanism” zu schreiben.
Schwierig zu schreiben ist er deshalb, weil es von orts-
ansässigen Ethnologen keine aktuellen Beschreibungen
von Schamanismus mehr gibt und weil viele Perso-
nen, die die Bevölkerung als Schamane (bakshy bzw.
hübü) bezeichnet, eher in den Bereich “Volksislam”
gehören. Somfai Kara ist es gelungen, das Wiederauf-
leben alter Glaubensvorstellungen und Bräuche sowie
ihre Verflechtung mit dem ebenfalls auflebenden bzw.
erst jetzt wirklich um sich greifenden Islam darzustel-
len. Dabei wird nicht ganz deutlich, ob es noch einen
eigenständigen Schamanismus gibt. Der Artikel zeigt
dennoch beispielhaft, dass es den Herausgebern gelun-
gen ist, Autoren zu finden, die aus eigener Kenntnis und
Feldforschung schreiben. Somfai Kara beispielsweise ist
der m.W. einzige Artikel über aktuelle “rein” schamani-
sche Rituale in Kyrgyzstan zu verdanken (L. Kunkoväcs
and D. Somfai Kara, On a Rare Kirghiz Shamanic
Ritual from the Talas Valley. Shaman 12.2004: 161 —
165). In ähnlicher Weise, aber die Geschichte stärker
berücksichtigend, informiert D. Kister im Artikel “Ko-
rean Shamanism” über aktuelle Vorgänge, die der städti-
schen Bevölkerung dort kaum bekannt sind, da auch
dort der Schamanismus bis auf rituelle Survivals als
untergegangen gilt. Viele weitere Beispiele ließen sich
nennen. Die zahlreichen Photos unterstreichen, dass die
Enzyklopädie sich gerade um die Einbeziehung der ak-
tuellen Entwicklungen bemüht und nicht gesammeltes
Buchwissen präsentieren will.
Das Interesse am Aktuellen macht auch vor dem
Neoschamanismus in den westlichen Industrienationen
nicht Halt. Michael Harners “The Way of the Shaman”
(1. Aufl. San Francisco 1980) ist zu einem wegweisen-
den Standardwerk geworden, das schamanische Prakti-
ken als Weg der Kommunikation mit der Natur und als
Mittel des Heilens lehrt. Im deutschsprachigen Raum
haben es beispielsweise Paul Uccusic und seine Frau
unternommen, den “Schamanismus aus seinem kultur-
historischen Hintergrund in unsere eigene Lebenswirk-
lichkeit zu transponieren”. Harner ist Präsident der
Foundation for Shamanic Studies”, Uccusic Direktor
für die Sektion Europa. Im allgemeinen Teil unter “Core
Shamanism and Neo-Shamanism” (49-57) sowie im
Regionalteil unter “Europe, Neo-Shamanism in Ger-
many” (496-500) wird man denn auch fündig. Beide
Artikel (mit Verweisungen auf weitere) informieren um-
fassend und sparen Probleme nicht aus. Angesichts
geschätzter 50-100 neoschamanischer Trommelgrup-
pen im deutschsprachigen Raum ist aus Sicht der Reli-
gionswissenschaft zu fragen, inwieweit wir gerade Zeit-
zeugen der Formierung einer neuen Religion sind, die
über die in Kursen vermittelten Basisrituale auch schon
kulturspezifische Anreicherungen der Rituale und gewis-
se Organisationsstrukturen aufweist, die wir im tradi-
tionellen Schamanismus nicht finden. Die Artikel der
Enzyklopädie liefern Anstöße dazu, aber keine fertigen
Antworten.
Insgesamt meine ich, dass den Herausgebern die
Auswahl der Autoren vorzüglich gelungen ist. Sie ha-
ben Personen gefunden, die wie sie selbst aus unmit-
telbarer Kenntnis von eigenen Feldstudien schreiben.
So wird das Werk eine Fundgrube, die gerade solchen
Spezialisten, die ein wenig über den eigenen Teller-
rand schauen wollen, eine Menge zu bieten hat, die
mehr als nur einführende Darstellungen zu systemati-
schen Fragen und regionalwissenschaftlichen Betrach-
tungsweisen enthält, die aber über den unmittelbaren In-
formationsgehalt hinaus zu weiterer, eigener Forschung
in diesem sich dynamisch entwickelnden Feld anregt.
So wünscht man sich eine wissenschaftliche Enzy-
klopädie von Rang. Den Herausgebern ist zu gratu-
lieren. Wassilios Klein
Whitehead, Neil L., and Robin Wright (eds.): In
Darkness and Secrecy. The Anthropology of Assault
Sorcery and Witchcraft in Amazonia. Durham: Duke
University Press, 2004. 328 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3345-7.
Price: £ 17.50
Anthologies that treat a topic that has been as in-
stitutionalized in social anthropology as shamanism and
reflect upon it within the context of what J. P. B. de Jos-
selin de Jong, referring to the East Indian Archipelago,
Anthropos 101.2006
662
Rezensionen
defined as a “field of ethnological study,” can advantage
comparative study if the right questions are broached
and the contributing ethnographers are cognizant of what
comparative concerns might be contained within the
more narrowly construed confines of their own ethnog-
raphies. As was the case with a comparable anthology
focusing on witchcraft and sorcery in an entirely dif-
ferent part of the world (Understanding Witchcraft and
Sorcery in Southeast Asia. Ed. by C. W. Watson and Roy
Ellen. Honolulu 1993), the present volume may be ad-
judged successful in this respect. Scholars in disciplines
whose provenance includes prophets, shamanism, ritual,
sorcery, or who are interested in the intermeshing of
these phenomena in contemporary sociopolitical affairs
in Latin America, will find a stimulating repository of
ideas in this informed, intelligent, and important con-
tribution to the comparative investigation of shaman-
ism. Or, for that matter, to that of witchcraft, since,
as the editors point out, and as is evident in the papers
themselves, Amazonian witchcraft is generally of a very
different sort to that made famous among the Azande by
Evans-Pritchard (3-4). One difference emerging from
the case studies discussed in this collection involves
the factor of conscious intentionality that distinguishes
the typical Amazonian witch from its Zande counterpart
while another concerns the Zande definition of sorcery.
The present volume hinges around the concept of “dark
shamanism,” a term which incorporates the notions of
sorcery and witchcraft (3), and applies to one of the
stock characters of the anthropology of religion, i.e.,
the shaman. In other regions of the world the shaman
is typically seen as an unequivocal helper of humanity,
but in these papers he appears as distinctly ambivalent
character: sometimes benevolent; sometimes malevo-
lent.
The imaginative capacities of the Warao of north-
eastern Venezuela are astounding, an intricate combi-
nation of good and evil, of the verbal arts as well as
ritual, and of cosmology and quotidian existence. In
their ethnographic richness they are well-matched by
their ethnographer, Johannes Wilbert, whose uncommon
intellectual sympathies and devotion to registering every
nuance of their system of symbolic thought is captured
in each paragraph of his account. In a different vein, Sil-
via Vidal’s and Neil L. Whitehead’s essay on Venezuela
and Guyana describes how the political fortunes of men
in the national state can be swayed by the intervention of
shamans who exercise their talents for dark and light sor-
cery to either impede or advance the ambitions of their
clients. In another paper Robin Wright, after remarking
that “rarely do we find in the literature native accounts of
prophetic figures who, through their connections to pri-
mordial powers, have sought to combat the devastating
effects of witchcraft and sorcery perceived as inherent to
the nature of the world and as the legacy of the chaotic
primordial world” (83), proceeds to fill these lacunae
with the biography of two such prophets, Kamiko (who
died in 1903) and his son Uétsu Mikuiri. Their biogra-
phies illustrate the way witches and prophets engage in
their respective, but antagonistic, trades as embodiments
of what Wright refers to as “the dialectical tension be-
tween dark and light consciousness ...” (83) for it is the
destiny of witches to kill, and the obligation of prophets
to cure. The ethnic context of his paper is provided by
the Baniwa of the northwest Amazon in Brazil, whose
history bears witness to numerous prophetic movements
in which the source of the social afflictions plaguing
indigenous society came to be interpreted locally not
as resulting from the predatory activities of European
entrepreneurs, who were in the process of encroaching
on native lands, but from witchcraft, an interpretation
that called upon the restorative authority of prophets.
The ability of traditional healers (kumu) to gain access
to evil spells that could inflict harm as well as access to
therapeutic spells is a theme taken up by Dominique
Buchillet who discusses this ambiguity among the
Desana Indians of the upper Rio Negro River in demon-
strating the connections between sorcery characterized
by evil spells and the dissemination of shamanistic
knowledge and the place of sorcery accusations in
Desana cosmology and myth. Among the ethnic groups
of the Amazon Basin the figures of shaman and witch
are frequently interchangeable, and in his account of
the beliefs of the Parakanâ, a Tupi-speaking population
of southeastern Amazon, Carlos Fausto emphasizes that
the ritual practitioner whose activities he discusses is
more aptly described as a “dreamer” rather than as a
shaman and he traces the connections commonly made
in this ethnographic area between the jaguar, warfare,
and shamanism in investigating the “common tread”
linking them (159).
The other papers offer equally revealing windows
into the occult side of Amazonian culture, and I shall
do no more than briefly summarize them here. George
Mentore looks for connections between shamanism, si-
lence, and noise among the Waiwai of southern Guyana
and northern Brazil. Michael Heckenberger makes the
case that among the Kuikuru of the upper Xingu
witchcraft is a cardinal concept in their society and those
of their neighbours. Sorcery as practiced by the Kulina,
of western Brazil, and as a component of shamanism,
concerns Donald Pollock, who interprets both from the
point of view of siblingship, sexuality, and affinity.
Márnio Teixeira-Pinto argues that sorcery among the
Arara of the Xingu-Iriri area can be conceptualized as
“a kind of inversion of the expected role of a shaman”
(239). Dualism has been shown to be operative in many
societies of the forested and savanna regions of South
America, and in her depiction of shamanism and sorcery
among the Cashinahua of the Purus River Elsje Lagrou
follows indigenous lines of conceptual classification to
demonstrate the dynamic character of Cashinahua dis-
course and practice as it relates to the “dark side” of
shamanism. Accusations in Eastern Peru against chil-
dren accused of being witches are described in Fernando
Santos-Granero’s account of Arawak community life.
These individual papers come with no fewer than
three excurses: an Introduction, a Commentary, and
an Afterword. Far from being redundant, however,
these ancillary pieces informatively enrich the papers
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensionen
663
themselves by setting them within the wider framework
of theory and comparative ethnography.
The point is made in this anthology that relatively
little work has been published on “dark” (evil) sorcery in
comparison with “light” (good) sorcery. The appearance
of this volume goes a large part of the way to rectifying
this imbalance and its contribution to our knowledge of
witchcraft, sorcery, prophets, and shamanism in South
American societies is significant. David Hicks
Winter, Karin: Österreichische Spuren in der Süd-
see. Die Missionsreise von S.M.S. ALBATROS in
den Jahren 1895-1898 und ihre ökonomischen Hinter-
gründe. Wien: Neuer Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 2005.
285 pp. ISBN 3-7083-0248-6. Preis; € 36.80
Das Schicksal der Besatzung des Schiffes der öster-
reichischen Kriegsmarine “S.M.S. Albatros” gehört, ne-
ben der Weltumseglung der Fregatte “S.M.S. Novara”,
zu den spektakulärsten und herausragenden Ereignissen
in der Geschichte der österreichischen Marineexpedi-
tionen im 19. Jh. Sie war aber nur eine von mehreren
Forschungsfahrten und - im Vergleich zu anderen Ex-
peditionen der Monarchie - bei weitem nicht die er-
folgreichste. Die fatalen Ereignisse auf den Salomonen-
Inseln, die zum Tod mehrerer Expeditionsteilnehmer
führten, machten sie jedoch zu einer der damals am
meisten medial beachteten Fahrten. Die unmittelbaren
Ereignisse wurden wiederholt von Autoren aufgegriffen
und in ihrem Ablauf geschildert. Das vorliegende Buch
geht darüber weit hinaus.
Die Autorin Karin Winter, eine Historikerin, hat
mit akribischer Detailgenauigkeit eine Aufarbeitung der
Vorgeschichte gewagt - und damit ein Stück österreichi-
scher Marinegeschichte ans Licht geholt. Es ist in Öster-
reich nur einem kleinen Kreis von Fachleuten bekannt,
dass die als Forschungsfahrten deklarierten Marineex-
peditionen in die Südsee neben den wissenschaftlichen
(vor allem ethnologischen und zoologischen) auch hand-
festen ökonomischen Interessen dienten. Dazu zählten
u. a. geologische Explorationen zwecks Auffindung von
Bodenschätzen, die Knüpfung von Handelskontakten
und die Auslotung möglicher Stützpunkte für eine Teil-
nahme der k(u)k Monarchie am damaligen Wettrennen
der europäischen Mächte um koloniale Erwerbungen.
Das Buch schildert die Geschichte der Missionsreisen
nach Ozeanien nach ihrem Auftakt durch einen Brief des
Bemdorfer Industriellen Arthur Krupp an die Marine-
sektion des Kriegsministeriums, worin auf die Notwen-
digkeit der Auffindung von Nickelerzlagerstätten hinge-
wiesen wurde, um der Abhängigkeit von dem den Markt
dominierenden französischen Nickel aus Neukaledonien
zu entgehen. Von der Rolle des Marinekommandanten,
den Maßnahmen der Marinesektion und der Sicht des
Kaiserhauses spannt sich der Bogen zu den Missio-
nen der “S.M.S. Kaiserin Elisabeth” im Jahr 1893 und
der “S.M.S. Saida” und “S.M.S. Fasana” in den Jahren
1893-1894. Besonderes Augenmerk widmete dabei die
Autorin den Reiseinstruktionen, die teilweise öffentlich,
teilweise aber auch mit geheimen Zusatzbefehlen und
-zielen versehen waren. Es lässt sich klar nachvollzie-
hen, dass die Reisen einem klaren Masterplan folg-
ten, der eine strukturierte Suche nach Rohstoffen durch
systematische Erforschung geologischer Formationen in
den besuchten Ländern und Inselgruppen vorsah. Dabei
wird auf die koloniale Situation in der zweiten Hälf-
te des 19. Jhs. mit seinen rivalisierenden europäischen
Mächten im Ringen um die Aufteilung der Welt einge-
gangen.
Die eine Hälfte des Buchs widmet sich der Vorge-
schichte und den erwähnten Missionen, die andere Hälf-
te widmet sich ausschließlich der Fahrt der “Albatros”.
Die handelnden Akteure und involvierten Personen wer-
den ausführlich dargestellt, allen voran die Rolle des
Geologen und Leiters der Expedition Heinrich Freiherr
von Foullon von Norbeeck. Der Ablauf der Ereignisse
auf der zur Salomonen-Gruppe gehörenden Insel Gua-
dalcanal wird chronologisch nachvollzogen. Der Kon-
flikt mit den melanesischen Einheimischen, der durch
eine unglückliche Mischung aus Missverständnissen,
Fehleinschätzungen und falschen Entscheidungen zu ei-
nem tragischen Ende führte, wird ausführlich dargestellt
und sinnvollerweise werden die teilweise sehr unter-
schiedlichen Aussagen in den Protokollen und Nieder-
schriften, die nach dem Vorfall die Schuldfrage zu klären
hatten, einander gegenübergestellt. In dem 26-köpfi-
gen Landungskorps, welches sich anschickte den Berg
Lionshead zu ersteigen und dabei von den Melane-
siern angegriffen wurde, waren fünf Tote und sechs
Schwerverletzte zu beklagen sowie eine unbekannte aber
größere Anzahl von Toten und Verwundeten bei den
Einheimischen.
Karin Winter enthält sich eigener Schlussfolgerungen
und stellt die Dokumente neben- und gegeneinander.
Sie bezieht sich auf die ihr zugänglichen Dokumen-
te des österreichischen Marine- und Staatsarchivs und
vermeidet weiterführende Interpretationen. Tatsächlich
haben die Vorfälle auf Guadalcanal wiederholt zu Spe-
kulationen Anlass gegeben und weiterführende Inter-
pretationen inspiriert, u. a. in Bezug auf eine mögli-
cherweise nie öffentlich bekannt gewordene, nach dem
Hauptkonflikt erfolgte Strafexpedition der Österreicher
gegen die Einheimischen, deren tatsächliches Stattfinden
sich nur aus den Listen verbrauchter Munitionsmen-
gen erschließen ließe. Da die Salomonen-Inseln damals
bereits im britischen Einflussbereich waren, hätte eine
solche Aktion, wären sie bekannt geworden, eine di-
plomatische Konfrontation heraufbeschworen. Es ist ein
Verdienst des Buches, dass es den Pfad spekulativer in-
dizienbasierter Schlussfolgerungen nicht betritt und sich
darauf beschränkt, sachlich die Konsequenzen für die
Expedition, die Reaktionen in Wien und den weiteren
Verlauf der Reise zu beschreiben. Winter weist darauf
hin, dass damals eine Ursachenanalyse im Sinne des
“warum” des Angriffs von Seiten der involvierten und
mit der Aufklärung befassten Österreicher nicht oder nur
ungenügend stattgefunden hat.
Das Buch ist in acht Abschnitte gegliedert, wovon je
ein Abschnitt den Reisen der “Saida”, “Fasana” und “Al-
batros” sowie eines dem “Auftakt der Südseemission”
Anthropos 101.2006
664
Rezensionen
gewidmet ist. Jedem dieser Abschnitte sind in Form von
farblich abgehobenen Einschüben Quellen hinzugefügt,
die, z. B. in Form von Briefen, im Wortlauf abgedruckt
sind. Im Mittelteil des Buches ist ein Bildteil eingefügt,
der Photographien von den Protagonisten und Szenen
in Melanesien von Expeditionen der Schiffe “Fasana”,
“Albatros” und “Leopard” zeigen. Es ist bedauerlich,
dass keine einzige Karte die Örtlichkeiten der Ereignisse
illustriert. Melanesien insgesamt und insbesondere die
Insel Guadalcanal sind wahrscheinlich nur einem einge-
schränkten Leserpublikum genauer bekannt. Hier hätten
mehrere Karten und zwar solche, welche alle Routen
der genannten Missionsreisen zeigen sowie Detailkarten
von der Salomonen-Inselgruppe und Guadalcanal die
Anschaulichkeit heben können. Der wissenschaftliche
Apparat ist ausreichend und korrekt. Quellenverweise
finden sich in Fußnoten, Quellen und Literatur sind ge-
trennt angegeben. Ein weiterer Kritikpunkt ist das Feh-
len eines Indexes. Dieser hätte das Buch aufgewertet und
dem wissenschaftlich interessierten Leser die schnelle
Auffindbarkeit fachspezifischer Details erleichtert.
Das vorliegende Buch ist trotzdem ein Gewinn. Der
klare Schreibstil der Autorin ermöglicht das anschauli-
che Nachvollziehen mehrerer historisch hochinteressan-
ter und bislang noch ungenügend beleuchteter Aspek-
te der österreichischen Geschichte. Die Zielgruppe des
Buches, Historiker, Ethnologen und Politikwissenschaf-
ter, können eine Fülle an Informationen aus dem Buch
schöpfen, die eine weitere Beschäftigung mit dem The-
ma anregen. Hermann Mückler
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
Achebe, Nwando: Farmers, Traders, Warriors, and
Kings. Female Power and Authority in Northern
Igboland, 1900-1960. Portsmouth: Heinemann,
2005. 274 pp. ISBN 0-325-07078-4.
Achino-Loeb, Maria-Luisa (ed.): Silence. The Curren-
cy of Power. New York: Berghahn Books, 2006.
183 pp. ISBN 1-84545-131-7.
Ackermann, Andreas, et al. (Hrsg.): Im Schatten
des Kongo. Leo Frobenius, Stereofotografien von
1904-1906. Katalog zu einer Ausstellung im Mu-
seum der Weltkulturen, Frankfurt am Main. Frank-
furt: Frobenius Institut, 2005. 80 pp., Fotos. ISBN
3-9806506-6-9.
Adamczewski, Jerzy: Mlynarstwo magiczne. Wroclaw:
Polkie Towarzystwo Ludoznawcze, 2005. 219 pp.
ISBN 83-87266-46-9. (Prace i materialy etno-
graficzne, 34)
Adeaga, Tomi: Translating and Publishing African Lan-
guage^) and Literature(s). Examples from Nigeria,
Ghana, and Germany. Frankfurt: IKO - Verlag
für Interkulturelle Kommunikation, 2006. 393 pp.
ISBN 3-88939-800-6.
Adler, Alfred : Roi sorcier, mère sorcière. Parenté,
politique et sorcellerie en Afrique noire. Structures
et fêlures. Paris : Éditions du Félin, 2006. 248 pp.
ISBN 2-86645-618-1.
Affergan, Francis : Martinique. Les identités remar-
quables. Anthropologie d’un terrain revisité. Paris :
Presses Universitaires de France, 2006. 162 pp.
ISBN 2-13-055398-2.
Aggarwal, Ravina: Beyond Lines of Control. Perfor-
mances and Politics on the Disputed Borders of
Ladakh, India. Durham: Duke University Press,
2004. 305 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3414-3.
Aghaie, Kamran Scot (ed.): The Women of Karbala.
Ritual Performance and Symbolic Discourses in
Modern Shi’i Islam. Austin: University of Texas
Press, 2005. 297 pp. ISBN 0-292-70959-5.
Aguilar, Mario L; A Social History of the Catholic
Church in Chile; vol. 1: The First Period of the
Pinochet Government 1973-1980. Lewiston: The
Edwin Mellen Press, 2004. 224 pp. ISBN 0-7734-
6245-7. (Latin American Studies, 24)
Albrecht, Juerg, et ai: Kultur nicht verstehen. Produk-
tives Nichtverstehen und Verstehen als Gestaltung.
Zürich: Edition Voldemeer, 2005. 347 pp. ISBN
3-211-24235-X. (Theorie: Gestaltung, 4)
Allen, Catherine J.: The Hold Life Has. Coca and
Cultural Identity in an Andean Community. 2nd ed.
Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 2002.
296 pp. ISBN 1-58834-032-5.
Allen, Philip M., and Maureen Coveil: Historical Dic-
tionary of Madagascar. 2nd ed. Lanham: The Scare-
crow Press, 2005. 420 pp. ISBN 0-8108-4636-5.
(Historical Dictionaries of Africa, 98)
Allsen, Thomas T.: The Royal Hunt in Eurasian Histo-
ry. Philadelphia; University of Pennsylvania Press,
2005. 406 pp. ISBN 0-8122-3926-1.
Almeida-Topor, Hélène de, et al. (éds.) : Le travail
en Afrique noire. Représentations et pratiques à
l’époque contemporaine. Paris : Éditions Karthala,
2003. 355 pp. ISBN 2-84586-429-9.
Almond, Philip C.: Demonic Possession and Exorcism
in Early Modem England. Contemporary Texts
and Their Cultural Contexts. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press, 2004. 405 pp. ISBN 0-521-
81323-9.
Alva, Ashok: Olasari (Essays on Folk Rituals and
Dances of Tulunadu and Kodagu). Udupi; Regional
Resources Centre for Folk Performing Arts, 2001.
116 pp.
Amesberger, Helga, et ai: Sexualisierte Gewalt. Weib-
liche Erfahrungen in NS-Konzentrationslagern.
Wien: Mandelbaum Verlag, 2004. 359 pp. ISBN
3-85476-118-X.
Andermann, Jens, and William Rowe (eds.): Images
of Power. Iconography, Culture, and the State in
Latin America. New York: Berghahn Books, 2005.
299 pp. ISBN 1-57181-533-3.
Antweiler, Christoph: Ethnologie lesen. Ein Führer
durch den Bücher-Dschungel. 3., überarb. u. erg.
Aufl. Hamburg: Lit Verlag, 2003. 535 pp., CD-
ROM. ISBN 3-8258-5608-9. (Arbeitsbücher Kultur-
wissenschaft, 1)
Appel, Michaela: Ozeanien. Weltbilder der Südsee.
München: Staatliches Museum für Völkerkunde,
2005. 182 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-927270-48-2.
Appiah, Kwame Anthony: The Ethics of Identi-
ty. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005.
358 pp. ISBN 0-691-12036-6.
Arsuaga, Juan Luis, and Ignacio Martinez: The Cho-
sen Species. The Long March of Human Evolution.
Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2006. 284 pp. ISBN
1-405-11532-7.
Anthropos 101.2006
666
Neue Publikationen
Aschwanden, Herbert: Karanga Mythology. An Anal-
ysis of the Consciousness of the Karanga in
Zimbabwe. Reissue. Gweru: Mambo Press, 2004.
287 pp. ISBN 0-86922-450-6. (Shona Heritage Se-
ries, 2)
Asplund Ingemark, Camilla: The Genre of Trolls. The
Case of a Finland-Swedish Folk Belief Tradition.
Âbo: Âbo Akademi University Press, 2004. 320 pp.
ISBN 951-765-222-4.
Augustins, Georges : Les marques urbaines du prestige.
Le cas d’Evora au Portugal. Nanterre : Société
d’Ethnologie, 2006. 120 pp. ISBN 2-901161-778-2.
(Recherches thématiques, 9)
Baker, J. Mark: The Kuhls of Kangra. Community-
Managed Irrigation in the Western Himalaya. Seat-
tle: University of Washington Press, 2005. 271 pp.
ISBN 0-295-98491-0.
Balakrishnan, R.: Genesis of Sun Worship. The Sun
Gods of Tribal Orissa. Varanasi: Alice Boner Insti-
tute Varanasi, 2004. 40 pp. (Alice Boner National
Memorial Lecture, 6)
Balandier, Georges : Anthropologie politique. 5ème éd.
Paris : Presses Universitaires de France, 2004.
240 pp. ISBN 2-13-054542-4.
Bancroft, Angus: Roma and Gypsy-Travellers in Eu-
rope. Modernity, Race, Space, and Exclusion.
Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2005. 198 pp. ISBN
0-7546-3921-5.
Barnard, Timothy P.: Contesting Malayness. Malay
Identity across Boundaries. Singapore: Singapore
University Press, 2004. 318 pp. ISBN 9971-69-
279-1.
Bartelt, Dawid Danilo: Nation gegen Hinterland. Der
Krieg von Canudos in Brasilien. Ein diskursives
Ereignis (1874-1903). Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Ver-
lag, 2003. 408 pp. ISBN 3-515-08255-7. (Beiträge
zur Kolonial- und Überseegeschichte, 87)
Bartle, Neville: Death, Witchcraft, and the Spirit World
in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea. Goro-
ka; The Melanesian Institute, 2005. 364 pp. ISBN
9980-65-003-6. (Point, 29)
Bartoli, Laura: Antropologia aplicada. Historia y per-
spectivas desde América Latina. Quito: Ediciones
Abya-Yala, 2002. 142 pp. ISBN 9978-22-270-7.
Basu, Helene: Von Barden und Königen. Ethnologische
Studien zur Göttin und zum Gedächtnis in Kacch
(Indien). Frankfurt; Peter Lang, 2004. 350 pp.
ISBN 3-631-39579-5.
Baubérot, Jean; Laïcité 1905-2005, entre passion et
raison. Paris : Éditions du Seuil, 2004. 280 pp.
ISBN 2-02-063741-3.
Bayart, Jean-François: The Illusion of Cultural Iden-
tity. Rev. and updated ed. London: Hurst, 2005.
303 pp. ISBN 1-85065-660-6.
Beltz, Johannes: Mahar, Buddhist, and Dalit. Religious
Conversion and Socio-Political Emancipation. New
Delhi: Manohar, 2005. 309 pp. ISBN 81-7304-
620-4.
Benavides, O. Hugo; Making Ecuadorian Histories.
Four Centuries of Defining Power. Austin: Uni-
versity of Texas Press, 2004. 231 pp. ISBN 0-292-
70229-9.
Benda-Beckmann, Franz, et al. (eds.); Mobile Peo-
ple, Mobile Law. Expanding Legal Relations in a
Contracting World. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing,
2005. 332 pp. ISBN 0-7546-2386-6.
Bernardini, Wesley: Hopi Oral Tradition and the Ar-
chaeology of Identity. Tucson: The University of
Arizona Press, 2005. 220 pp. ISBN 0-8165-2426-2.
Benzing, Brigitta (Hrsg.): Civil Society in Ethiopia.
Reflections on Realities and Perspectives of Hope.
Beiträge zu einem interkulturellen Wissenschafts-
verständnis und zu internationalen Wirtschafts-
beziehungen. Frankfurt; IKO - Verlag für Inter-
kulturelle Kommunikation, 2005. 197 pp. ISBN
3-88939-788-3. (Jahrbuch 2004 der Afrikanisch-
Asiatischen Studienförderung)
Beran, Harry, and Barry Craig (eds.): Shields of
Melanesia. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press,
2005. 287 pp., photos. ISBN 0-8248-2732-5.
Berger, Helen A. (ed.): Witchcraft and Magic. Contem-
porary North America. Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2005. 207 pp. ISBN 0-8122-
3877-X.
Biasio, Elisabeth: Prunk und Pracht am Hofe Menileks.
Alfred Ilgs Äthiopien um 1900 - Majesty and
Magnificence at the Court of Menilek. Alfred Ilg’s
Ethiopia around 1900. Zürich: Verlag Neue Zürcher
Zeitung, 2004. 261 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-03823-
089-8.
Bidon, Patrice, et al. (éds.) : Anthropologie et psych-
analyse. Regards croisés. Paris : Éditions EHESS,
2005. 228 pp. ISBN 2-7132-2066-1. (Cahiers de
l’Homme, 37)
Biehl, Joäo: Vita. Life in a Zone of Social Aban-
donment. Berkeley: University of California Press,
2005. 404 pp. ISBN 0-520-24278-5.
Biel, Melha Rout, et ai: Das Scheitern des Zusam-
menlebens zwischen arabischen und afrikanischen
Stämmen im Sudan. Hintergründe, Akteure und Ent-
wicklungsprognose. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2005.
92 pp. ISBN 3-631-54367-0.
Bigalke, Terance W.: Tana Toraja. A Social History of
an Indonesian People. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2005.
395 pp. ISBN 90-6718-256-7.
Binsbergen, Wim M. J. van, and Peter L. Geschiere
(eds.); Commodification. Things, Agency, and Iden-
tities (The Social Life of Things Revisited). Müns-
ter: Lit Verlag, 2005. 400 pp. ISBN 3-8258-8804-5.
Blanch, Antoni: Longing for a Greater Justice. Two
Witnesses; Bertolt Brecht and Albert Camus. Bar-
celona: Cristianisme i Justicia Booklets, 2005.
31 pp. ISBN 84-9730-116-1. (Cristianisme i Justicia
Booklets, 120)
Blanchy, Sophie, et al. (éds.) : Les dieux au service
du people. Itinéraires religieux, médiations, syn-
crétisme à Madagascar. Paris ; Éditions Karthala,
2006. 536 pp., CD-ROM. ISBN 2-84586-739-5.
Bollig, Michael; Risk Management in a Hazardous En-
vironment. A Comparative Study of Two Pastoral
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
667
Societies. New York: Springer, 2006. 442 pp. ISBN
0-387-27581-9.
Borja, Marciano R. de: Basques in the Philippines.
Reno: University of Nevada Press, 2005. 183 pp.
ISBN 0-87417-590-9.
Bostoen, Koen, and Jacky Maniacky (eds.): Studies in
African Comparative Linguistics, with Special Fo-
cus on Bantu and Mande. Tervuren: Royal Museum
for Central Africa, 2005. 495 pp. ISBN 90-75894-
76-7. (Collection Sciences Humaines, 169)
Bowman, Alan K., and Michael Brady (eds.): Images
and Artefacts of the Ancient World. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2005. 150 pp., photos. ISBN 0-
19-726296-1.
Brathwaite, Kamau: The Development of Creole So-
ciety in Jamaica 1770-1820. Kingston: Ian Randle
Publishers, 2005. 374 pp. ISBN 976-637-219-5.
Brauen, Martin (Hrsg.): Die Dalai Lamas. Tibets Re-
inkamationen des Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara. Zü-
rich: Völkerkundemuseum der Universität Zürich,
2005. 303 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-89790-219-2.
Bremen, Jan van, et al. (eds.): Asian Anthropology.
London: Routledge, 2005. 249 pp. ISBN 0-415-
34983-4.
Brockman, Diane K., and Card F. van Scheik (eds.);
Seasonality in Primates. Studies of Living and
Extinct Human and Non-Human Primates. Cam-
bridge; Cambridge University Press, 2005. 590 pp.
ISBN 0-521-82069-3. (Cambridge Studies in Bio-
logical and Evolutionary Anthropology, 44)
Brown, Judith M., and Robert Eric Frykenberg
(eds.): Christians, Cultural Interactions, and In-
dia’s Religious Traditions. Cambridge: William B.
Erdmans Publishing, 2002. 241 pp. ISBN 0-8028-
3955-X.
Bruck, Gabriele vom: Islam, Memory, and Morality in
Yemen. Ruling Families in Transition. New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. 348 pp. ISBN 1-4039-
6665-6.
Brummelhuis, Han ten: King of the Waters. Homan
van der Heide and the Origin of Modern Irrigation
in Siam. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2005. 409 pp. ISBN
90-6718-237-0. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
lijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde,
226)
Bsteh, Andreas, etal. (Hrsg.): Friede, Gerechtigkeit und
ihre Bedrohungen in der heutigen Welt. 3. Iranisch-
Österreichische Konferenz, Teheran, 22. bis 26. Fe-
bruar 2003. Referate, Anfragen, Gesprächsbeiträge.
Mödling: Verlag St. Gabriel, 2005. 338 pp. ISBN
3-85264-605-7.
Buchanan, Donna A.: Performing Democracy. Bulgar-
ian Music and Musicians in Transition. Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 2006. 519 pp.,
CD-ROM. ISBN 0-226-07827-2.
Burch, Ernest S., Jr.: Alliance and Conflict. The
World System of the Inupiaq Eskimos. Lincoln:
University of Nebraska Press, 2005. 383 pp. ISBN
0-8032-6238-8.
Burke, Peter: Was ist Kulturgeschichte? Frankfurt:
Suhrkamp Verlag, 2005. 202 pp. ISBN 3-518-
58442-1.
Burton, Richard Francis: Das Land Midian. Hrsg. u.
übers, von Uwe Pfullmann. Berlin: trafo verlag,
2004. 318 pp. ISBN 3-89626-402-8.
Calvet, Louis-Jean, et Pascal Griolet (éds.) : Impé-
rialismes linguistiques hier et aujourd’hui. Actes
du colloque franco-japonais de Tokyo (21, 22, 23
novembre 1999). Aix-en-Provence : Édisud, 2005.
384 pp. ISBN 2-7449-0490-2.
Cancik, Hubert, und Uwe Puschner (Hrsg.); Antise-
mitismus, Paganismus, völkische Religion - Anti-
Semitism, Paganism, Voelkish Religion. München;
K.G. Saur, 2004. 172 pp. ISBN 3-598-11458-3.
Carlsson, Leif: Round Trips to Heaven. Otherworldly
Travellers in Early Judaism and Christianity. Lund;
Lund University, 2004. 398 pp. ISBN 91-22-02106-
X. (Lund Studies in History of Religions, 19)
Carrette, Jeremy, and Richard King: Selling Spiri-
tuality. The Silent Takeover of Religion. London:
Routledge, 2005. 194 pp. ISBN 0-415-30209-9.
Gayón, Luis: En las aguas de Yuruparí. Cosmología
y chamanismo Makuna. Bogotá: Ediciones Unian-
des, 2002. 256 pp. ISBN 958-695-056-5. (Estudios
antropológicos, 5)
Chakanza, J. C. (ed.): Initiation Rites for Boys in
Lomwe Society in Malawi and Other Essays. Zom-
ba: Kachere Series, 2005. 155 pp. ISBN 99908-76-
62-2. (Sources for the Study of Religion in Malawi,
23)
Chaniotis, Angelos: War in the Hellenistic World. A
Social and Cultural History. Malden: Blackwell
Publishing, 2005. 308 pp. ISBN 0-631-22608-7.
Chasteen, John C.: National Rythms, African Roots.
The Deep History of Latin American Popular
Dance. Albuquerque; University of Mexico Press,
2004. 257 pp. ISBN 0-8263-2941-1.
Chauvier, Eric : Profession anthropologue. Bordeaux :
William Blake, 2004. 179 pp. ISBN 2-84103-134-9.
Chettar, Lakshmanan S. M. L.: Folklore of Tamil
Nadu. New Delhi: National Book Trust, 2002.
210 pp. ISBN 81-237-3649-5.
Chidester, David, et al. (eds.): Religion, Politics, and
Identity in a Changing South Africa. Münster:
Waxmann, 2004. 239 pp. ISBN 3-8309-1328-1.
(Religion and Society in Transition, 6)
Chihiro, Miyazawa (ed.): Culture and Society in Asian
Markets. An Interdisciplinary Approach to the Dis-
tribution and Exchange of Goods. Nanzan: Nanzan
University, 2005. 260 pp. ISBN 4-89489-040-2,
(Nanzan University Anthropological Institute Re-
search Series, 7)
Clark, Mary Ann: Where Men are Wives and Mothers
Rule. Santería Ritual Practices and Their Gender
Implications. Gainesville: University Press of Flori-
da, 2005. 185 pp. ISBN 0-8130-2834-5.
Clay, Brenda Johnson: Unstable Images. Colonial Dis-
course on New Ireland, Papua New Guinea, 1875-
1935. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2005.
324 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2916-6.
Anthropos 101.2006
668
Neue Publikationen
Cliggett, Lisa: Grains from Grass. Aging, Gender, and
Famine in Rural Africa. Ithaca: Cornell University
Press, 2005. 193 pp. ISBN 0-8014-7283-0.
Cohen, Dalia, and Ruth Katz: Palestinian Arab Music.
A Maqâm Tradition in Practice. Chicago: The Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 2006. 518 pp., CD-ROM.
ISBN 0-226-11299-3.
Colley, Sarah: Uncovering Australia. Archaeology, In-
digenous People, and the Public. Crows Nest: Allen
and Unwin, 2002. 251 pp. ISBN 1-86508-209-0.
Commins, David: The Wahhabi Mission and Saudi
Arabia. London: LB. Tauris, 2006. 276pp. ISBN
1-84511-080-3.
Cook, Scott: Understanding Commodity Cultures. Ex-
plorations in Economic Anthropology with Case
Studies from Mexico. Lanham: Rowman & Little-
field, 2004. 347 pp. ISBN 0-7425-3491-X.
Cooper, Frederick: Colonialism in Question. Theory,
Knowledge, History. Berkeley: University of Cali-
fornia Press, 2005. 327 pp. ISBN 0-520-24414-1.
Cooper, Thomas L.: Sacred Painting in Bali. Tradi-
tion in Transition. Bangkok: Orchid Press, 2005.
184 pp., photos. ISBN 974-524-034-6.
Coquery-Vidrovitch, Catherine: The History of African
Cities South of the Sahara. From the Origins to
Colonization. Princeton; Markus Wiener Publish-
ers, 2005. 421 pp. ISBN 1-55876-302-3.
Cornwall, Andrea (ed.): Readings in Gender in Africa.
Oxford; James Currey; Bloomington: Indiana Uni-
versity Press, 2005. 247 pp. ISBN 0-85255-871-6;
ISBN 0-253-41740-7.
Csapo, Eric: Theories of Mythology. Oxford: Blackwell
Publishing, 2005. 338 pp. ISBN 0-631-23248-6.
Daniel, Yvonne: Dancing Wisdom. Embodied Knowl-
edge in Haitian Vodou, Cuban Yoruba, and Bahian
Candomblé. Urbana: University of Illinois Press,
2005. 325 pp. ISBN 0-252-07207-3.
D’Arcy, Paul: The People of the Sea. Environment,
Identity, and History in Oceania. Honolulu: Univer-
sity of Hawai’i Press, 2006. 292 pp. ISBN 0-8248-
2959-X.
Davenport, William H.: Santa Cruz Island Figure
Sculpture and Its Social and Ritual Contexts.
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, Museum
of Archaeology and Anthropology, 2005. 233 pp.,
photos, CD-ROM. ISBN 1-931707-81-2.
Davis, Wade: El río. Exploraciones y descubrimientos
en la selva Amazónica. 1. reimpr. de la 2da ed.
Bogotá: El Áncora Editores, 2005. 639 pp. ISBN
958-38-0093-7.
Dean, Sharon E., et ai: Weaving a Legacy. Indian Bas-
kets and the People of Owens Valley, California.
Salt Lake City: The University of Utah Press, 2004.
182 pp. ISBN 0-87480-808-1.
Dedenbach-Salazar Sáenz, Sabine: Die Stimmen von
Huarochiri. Indianische Quechua-Überlieferungen
aus der Kolonialzeit zwischen Mündlichkeit und
Schriftlichkeit. Eine Analyse ihres Diskurses. Aa-
chen: Shaker Verlag, 2005. CD-ROM. ISBN 3-
8322-2154-9. (BAS, 39)
Deliège, Robert : Les castes en Inde aujourd’hui. Paris :
Presses Universitaires de France, 2004. 275 pp.
ISBN 2-13-054034-1.
de Wet, Chris (ed.); Development-induced Displace-
ment. Problems, Policies, and People. New York:
Berghahn Books, 2006. 218 pp. ISBN 1-84545-
095-7. (Studies in Forced Migration, 18)
Diehl, Richard A.; The Olmecs. America’s First Civ-
ilization. London: Thames and Hudson, 2004.
208 pp., photos. ISBN 0-500-28503-9.
Dixon, R. M. W.: The Jarawara Language of Southern
Amazonia. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.
636 pp. ISBN 0-19-927067-8.
Dohrmann, Alke: Die Ensete-Gärten der Hadiyya in
Süd-Äthiopien. Kulturelle Bedeutungen einer Nah-
rungspflanze. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 362 pp.
ISBN 3-8258-8125-3. (Göttinger Studien zur Eth-
nologie, 14)
d’Onofrio, Salvatore de, et Frédéric Joulian (éds.) :
Dire le savoir-faire. Gestes, techniques et objets.
Paris ; Éditions de l’Heme, 2006. 143 pp. ISBN
2- 85197-370-3. (Cahiers d’anthropologie sociale,
1)
Dorpmüller, Sabine: Religiöse Magie im “Buch der pro-
baten Mittel”. Analyse, kritische Edition und Über-
setzung des Kitäb al-Mugarrabät von Muhammad
ihn Yûsuf as-Sanûsî (gest. um 895/1490). Wies-
baden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2005. 277 pp. ISBN
3- 447-05176-0. (Arabische Studien, 1)
Douglas, Mary : De la souillure. Essais sur les notions
de pollution et de tabou. Paris : La Découverte,
2001. 205 pp. ISBN 2-7071-3388-4. (La Décou-
verte/poche, 104)
--- L’anthropologue et la Bible. Lecture du Lévitique.
Paris; Bayard, 2004. 320 pp. ISBN 2-227-47242-1.
Drehsen, Volker, et al. (Hrsg.): Kompendium Religi-
onstheorie. Göttingen; Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht,
2005. 373 pp. ISBN 3-8252-2705-7. (UTB, 2705)
Droeber, Julia: Dreaming of Change. Young Middle-
Class Women and Social Transformation in Jordan.
Leiden: Koninklijke Brill, 2005. 327 pp. ISBN 90-
04-14634-2. (Women and Gender, The Middle East
and the Islamic World, 3)
Drotbohm, Heike: Geister in der Diaspora. Haitiani-
sche Diskurse über Geschlechter, Jugend und Macht
in Montreal, Kanada. Marburg: Curupira, 2005.
455 pp. ISBN 3-8185-0415-6. (Curupira, 21)
Duthil, Fanny : Histoire de femmes aborigènes. Paris :
Presses Universitaires de France, 2006. 243 pp.
ISBN 2-13-055266-8.
Dyczkowski, Mark S.: The Cult of the Goddess Ku-
bjika. A Preliminary Comparative Textual and
Anthropological Survey of a Secret Newar God-
dess. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2001. 84 pp.
ISBN 3-515-08106-2. (Publications of the Nepal
Research Centre, 23)
Ellen, Roy: The Categorical Impulse. Essays in the
Anthropology of Classifying Behaviour. New York:
Berghahn Books, 2006. 233 pp. ISBN 1-84545-
017-5.
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
669
Ellert, Henrik, et al.: The Magic of Makishi. Masks
and Traditions in Zambia. Bath: CBC Publishing,
2004. 141 pp., photos. ISBN 0-9515209-9-7.
Endeley, Joyce B., et al: New Gender Studies from
Cameroon and the Caribbean. Buea: University of
Buea, 2004. 164 pp. ISBN 0-954538-46-3. (Issues
in Gender and Development, 1)
Eriksen, Thomas Hylland: Engaging Anthropology.
The Case for a Public Presence. Oxford: Berg,
2006. 148 pp. ISBN 1-84520-065-9.
Eschment, Beate, and Hans Harder (eds.): Looking
at the Coloniser. Cross-Cultural Perceptions in
Central Asia and the Caucasus, Bengal, and Related
Areas. Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2004. 384 pp.
ISBN 3-89913-359-5. (Mitteilungen zur Sozial-
und Kulturgeschichte der islamischen Welt, 14)
L’Estoile, Benoît de, et al. (eds.): Empires, Nations,
and Natives. Anthropology and State-Making. Dur-
ham: Duke University Press, 2005. 340 pp. ISBN
0-8223-3617-0.
Ezekwonna, Ferdinand Chukwuagozie: African Com-
munitarian Ethic. The Basis for the Moral Con-
science and Autonomy of the Individual. Igbo Cul-
ture as a Case Study. Bern: Peter Lang, 2005.
267 pp. ISBN 3-03910-769-0. (European Univer-
sity Studies, Series 23: Theology, 809)
Faroqhi, Suraiya: Subjects of the Sultan. Culture and
Daily Life in the Ottoman Empire. New ed. Lon-
don: LB. Tauris, 2005. 358pp. ISBN 1-85043-
760-2.
Feoktistov ja Sirkka Saarinen, Aleksandr: Moksa-
mordvan murteet. Helsinki: Suomalais-Ugrilainen
Seura, 2005. 435 pp. ISBN 952-5150-86-0. (Mé-
moires de la Société Finno-Ougrienne, 249)
Fischer, Michael, und Rebecca Schmidt: “Mein Testa-
ment soll seyn am End.” Sterbe- und Begräbnislie-
der zwischen 1500 und 2000. Münster: Waxmann,
2005, 305 pp. ISBN 3-8309-1501-2. (Volkslied-
studien, 6)
Fish, Jonathan S.: Defending the Durkheimian Tradi-
tion. Religion, Emotion, and Morality. Aldershot:
Ashgate Publishing, 2005. 207 pp. ISBN 0-7546-
4138-4.
Flannery, Daniel J.: Violence and Mental Health in Ev-
eryday Life. Prevention and Intervention Strategies
for Children and Adolescents. Lanham: AltaMira
Press, 2006. 219 pp. ISBN 0-7591-0492-1.
Flaquer, Jaume García: Fundamentalism Amid Bewil-
derment, Condemnation, and the Attempt to Under-
stand. Barcelona: Cristianisme i Justicia Booklets,
2005. 32 pp. ISBN 84-9730-127-7. (Cristianisme i
Justicia Booklets, 121)
Fordham, Graham: A New Look at Thai AIDS. Per-
spectives from the Margin. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2005. 321pp. ISBN 1-57181-519-8. (Fer-
tility, Reproduction, and Sexuality, 4)
Franklin, Simon, and Emma Widdis (eds.): National
Identity in Russian Culture. An Introduction. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. 240 pp.
ISBN 0-521-02429-3.
Frederick, Rhonda D.; “Colón Man a Come.” Mytho-
graphies of Panamá Canal Migration. Lanham:
Lexington Books, 2005. 237 pp. ISBN 0-7391-
0891-3.
Fuchs, Peter (éd.) : Les contes oubliés des Hadjeray
du Tchad. Paris : L’Harmattan, 2005. 310 pp. ISBN
2-7475-9757-1.
Fuentes Guerra, Jesús, y Armin Schwegler: Lengua
y ritos del Palo Monte Mayombe. Dioses cubanos
y sus fuentes africanas. Madrid; Iberoamericana;
Frankfurt: Vervuert, 2005. 258 pp. ISBN 84-8489-
143-7; ISBN 3-86527-153-7.
Gächter, Othmar: Begegnung von Religionen und
Kulturen. 100 Jahre Anthropos - Internationale
Zeitschrift für Völker- und Sprachenkunde. Sep;
Werbisci a badania religiologiczne (Warszawa)
2005; 82-90.
—- Spotkanie religii i kultur. 100 lat “Anthroposu” -
Miçdzynarodowego czasopisma ethnologicznego i
lingwistycznego. Sep: Werbisci a badania religio-
logiczne (Warszawa) 2005: 91-99.
Garcia, Maria Elena: Making Indigenous Citizens.
Identities, Education, and Multicultural Develop-
ment in Peru. Stanford: Stanford University Press,
2005. 213 pp. ISBN 0-8047-5015-7.
Gartz, Joachim: Wissenschaftliche und andere Wirk-
lichkeiten. Der Fall Castaneda. Frankfurt: IKO -
Verlag für Interkulturelle Kommunikation, 2001.
271 pp. ISBN 3-88939-568-6.
Gengnagel, Jörg, et al. (eds.): Words and Deeds. Hindu
and Buddhist Rituals in South Asia. Wiesbaden:
Harrassowitz Verlag, 2005. 299 pp. ISBN 3-447-
05152-3. (Ethno-Indology, Heidelberg Studies in
South Asian Rituals, 1)
George, Sheba Mariam: When Women Come First.
Gender and Class in Transnational Migration.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005.
259 pp. ISBN 0-520-24319-6.
Gerlach, Hans-Martin, et al. (Hrsg.): Symbol, Exis-
tenz, Lebenswelt. Kulturphilosophische Zugänge
zur Interkulturalität. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2004.
191 pp. ISBN 3-631-52201-0. (Daedalus, 16)
Glesner, Julia: Theater und Internet. Zum Verhältnis
von Kultur und Technologie im Übergang zum
21. Jahrhundert. Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2005.
382 pp. ISBN 3-89942-389-5.
Gobind Singh, Sri Guru: The Dasam Granth. The
Second Scripture of the Sikhs. Transi, by Surindar
Singh Kohli. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal
Publishers, 2005. 599 pp. ISBN 81-215-1044-9.
Göhler, Lars (Hrsg.): Indische Kultur im Kontext. Ri-
tuale, Texte und Ideen aus Indien und der Welt.
Festschrift für Klaus Mylius. Wiesbaden; Harras-
sowitz Verlag, 2005. 492 pp. ISBN 3-447-05207-4.
(Beiträge zur Indologie, 40)
Goldman, Irving: Cubeo Hehenewa Religious Thought.
Metaphysics of a Northwestern Amazonian Peo-
ple. New York: Columbia University Press, 2004.
438 pp. ISBN 0-231-13021-X.
González, Rafael Jesús, et al. (eds.) : El corazón de la
Anthropos 101.2006
670
Neue Publikationen
muerte. Altars and Offerings for Days of the Dead.
Berkeley; Heyday Books, 2005. 143 pp., photos.
ISBN 1-59714-008-2.
Goodman, Bryna, and Wendy Larson (eds.): Gender
in Motion. Divisions of Labor and Cultural Change
in Late Imperial and Modern China. Lanham:
Rowman & Littlefield, 2005. 343 pp. ISBN 0-7425-
3825-7.
Goodman, Jane E.: Berber Culture on the World Stage.
From Village to Video. Bloomington: Indiana Uni-
versity Press, 2005. 239 pp. ISBN 0-253-21784-9.
Gottlieb, Nanette: Language and Society in Japan.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.
169 pp. ISBN 0-521-53284-1.
Gottowik, Volker: Die Erfindung des Barong. Mythos,
Ritual und Alterität auf Bali. Berlin: Dietrich Rei-
mer Verlag, 2005. 531 pp. ISBN 3-496-02784-3.
Gottwald, Franz-Theo, und Lothar Kolmer (Hrsg.):
Speiserituale. Essen, Trinken, Sakralität. Stuttgart:
5. Hirzel Verlag, 2005. 216 pp. ISBN 3-7776-1374-
6.
Gould, Rebecca Kneale: At Home in Nature. Modem
Homesteading and Spiritual Practice in America.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005.
350 pp. ISBN 0-520-24142-8.
Grabowsky, Volker: Bevölkerung und Staat in Lan Na.
Ein Beitrag zur Bevölkerungsgeschichte Südost-
asiens. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2004.
609 pp. ISBN 3-447-05111-6
Graulich, Michel : Le sacrifice humain chez les Az-
tèques. Paris ; Librerie Arthème Fayard, 2005.
415 pp. ISBN 2-213-62234-5.
Greenwood, Susan: The Nature of Magic. An An-
thropology of Consciousness. Oxford: Berg, 2005.
242 pp. ISBN 1-84520-095-0.
Gregg, Gary S.: The Middle East. A Cultural Psycholo-
gy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005. 458 pp.
ISBN 0-19-517199-3.
Griefenow-Mewin, Catherine, and Tamene Bitima
(eds.): Oromo Oral Poetry Seen from Within.
Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag, 2004. 91 pp. ISBN
3-89645-276-2. (Wortkunst und Dokumentartexte
in afrikanischen Sprachen, 20)
Grinev, Andrei Val’terovich: The Tlingit Indians in
Russian America, 1741-1867. Lincoln: University
of Nebraska Press, 2005. 386 pp. ISBN 0-8032-
2214-9.
Grodz, Stanislaw: Chrystologia afrykanska w rodzi-
mym kontekscie kulturowym. Lublin: Towarzyst-
wo Naukowe KUL, 2005. 278 pp. ISBN 83-7306-
244-0. (Studia Religiologiczne, 7; Prace Wydzialu
Teologicznego, 140)
Grube, Gernot, et al. (Hrsg.): Schrift. Kulturtechnik
zwischen Auge, Hand und Maschine. München:
Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 2005. 472 pp. ISBN 3-7705-
4190-1.
Gundermann Kröll, Hans, et ai: Mapuches y aymaras.
El debate en torno al reconocimiento y los derechos
ciudadanos. Santiago de Chile: RIL editores, 2003.
189 pp. ISBN 956-284-270-3.
Gupta, Dipankar (ed.): Anti-Utopia. Essential Writings
of André Béteille. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2005. 494 pp. ISBN 0-19-56-7229-1.
Gyatso, Janet, and Hanna Havnevik (eds.): Women in
Tibet. New York: Columbia University Press, 2005.
436 pp. ISBN 0-231-13099-6.
Hahn, Hans P.: Materielle Kultur. Eine Einführung.
Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 2005. 206 pp.
ISBN 3-496-02786-X.
Hahner-Herzog, Iris, et al.: African Masks from the
Barbier-Mueller Collection, Geneva. Munich: Pres-
tel, 2004. 287 pp., photos. ISBN 3-7913-2709-7.
Halemba, Andrzej: Mambwe Folk-tales (Mambwe
Version). Warszawa: ADAM, 2005. 302 pp. ISBN
83-7232-626-6. (Bibliotheca Africana, 3)
--- Religious and Ethical Values in the Proverbs of
the Mambwe People (Zambia); 2 vols. Warszawa:
ADAM, 2005. 346 pp.; 658 pp. ISBN 83-7232-
627-4; 83-7232-628-2. (Missiological Studies and
Documents, 5/6)
Haller, Dieter: dtv-Atlas Ethnologie. München: Deut-
scher Taschenbuch Verlag, 2005. 307 pp. ISBN
3-423-03259-6. (dtv, 3259)
Hardgrove, Anne: Community and Public Culture. The
Marwaris in Calcutta, c. 1897-1997. New York:
Columbia University Press, 2004. 323 pp. ISBN
0-231-12216-0.
Harmening, Dieter; Wörterbuch des Aberglaubens.
Stuttgart; Philip Reclam jun., 2005. 520 pp. ISBN
3-15-010553-6.
Harnish, David D.: Bridges to the Ancestors. Music,
Myth, and Cultural Politics at an Indonesian Festi-
val. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2006.
260 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2914-x.
Harrison, Simon: Fracturing Resemblances. Identity
and Mimetic Conflict in Melanesia and the West.
New York: Berghahn Books, 2006. 182 pp. ISBN
1-57181-680-1. (EASA Series, 5)
Hartung, Constance: Der “Weg der Väter”. Ostafri-
kanische Religionen im Spiegel früher Missionars-
berichte. Münster; Lit Verlag, 2005. 451 pp. ISBN
3-8258-7543-1. (Marburger Religionsgeschichtliche
Beiträge, 4)
Hasselblatt, Cornelius: Estnische Literatur in deutscher
Sprache 1784-2003. Bibliographie der Primär- und
Sekundärliteratur. Bremen: Hempen Verlag, 2004.
180 pp. ISBN 3-934106-43-9.
Heim, Maria: Theories of the Gift in South Asia.
Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain Reflections on Dana.
New York: Routledge, 2004. 194 pp. ISBN 0-415-
97030-X.
Helimski, Eugen, et al. (Hrsg.): Mari und Mordwinen
im heutigen Russland. Sprache, Kultur, Identität.
Wiesbaden; Harrassowitz Verlag, 2005. 563 pp.
ISBN 3-447-05166-3. (Veröffentlichungen der So-
cietas Uralo-Altaica, 66)
Hermann, Elfriede (Hrsg.): Lebenswege im Span-
nungsfeld lokaler und globaler Prozesse. Person,
Selbst und Emotion in der ethnologischen Biogra-
fieforschung. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2003. 281 pp.
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
671
ISBN 3-8258-7049-9. (Göttinger Studien zur Eth-
nologie, 11)
Hermkens, Anna-Karina: Engendering Objects. Bark-
cloth and the Dynamics of Identity in Papua New
Guinea. Nijmegen: Thesis, 2005. 368 pp. ISBN 90-
9019515-7.
Hernández Sallés, Arturo, et al: Mapuche. Lengua
y cultura. Diccionario Mapudungun - Español -
Inglés. 5a ed. Providencia: Pehuén Editores, 2005.
146 pp„ fotos. ISBN 956-16-0249-0.
Hervieu-Léger, Daniele: Pilger und Konvertiten. Reli-
gion in Bewegung. Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2004.
194 pp. ISBN 3-89913-384-6. (Religion in der Ge-
sellschaft, 17)
Heusch, Luc de : La transe et ses entours. La sor-
cellerie, T amour fou, saint Jean de la Croix, etc.
Bruxelles ; Éditions complexe, 2006. 241 pp. ISBN
2- 8048-0059-8.
L’histoire du jazz. Paris ; Service International de Presse,
2001. 97 pp.
Hobbs, Dick, and Richard Wright (eds.): The Sage
Handbook of Fieldwork. London: Sage Publica-
tions, 2006. 399 pp. ISBN 0-7619-7445-8.
Hodgson, Barbara: Dreaming of East. Western Women
and the Exotic Allure of the Orient. Vancouver:
Greystone Books, 2005. 184 pp. ISBN 1-55365-
118-9.
Hoffmann, Odile : Communautés noires dans le Pa-
cifique colombien. Innovations et dynamiques
éthiques. Paris : Éditions Karthala; IRD, 2004.
259 pp. ISBN 2-84586-558-9; ISBN 2-7099-1537-
5.
Holton, Kimberly DaCosta: Performing Folklore. Ran-
chos Folclóricos from Lisbon to Newark. Bloom-
ington: Indiana University Press, 2005. 293 pp.
ISBN 0-253-21831-4.
Holzer, Jacqueline: Linguistische Anthropologie. Eine
Rekonstruktion. Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2005.
305 pp. ISBN 3-89942-301-1.
Hong, Keelung, and Stephen O. Murray: Looking
through Taiwan. American Anthropologists’ Collu-
sion with Ethnie Domination. Lincoln: University
of Nebraska Press, 2005. 161 pp. ISBN 0-8032-
2435-4.
Honwana, Alcinda (ed.): Makers and Breakers. Chil-
dren and Youth in Postcolonial Africa. Oxford:
James Currey; Dakar: Codesria, 2005. 244 pp.
ISBN 0-85255-434-4; ISBN 2-86978-153-9.
Hoops, Johannes: Reallexikon der germanischen Alter-
tumskunde. 2., völlig neu bearb. u. stark erw. Aufl.
Hrsg, von H. Beck et al.; Bd. 30: Stil - Tissp.
Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2005. 624 pp. ISBN
3- 11-018385-4.
Hottinger, Arnold: Die Mauren. Arabische Kultur in
Spanien. Repr. München: Wilhelm Fink Verlag,
2005. 495 pp. ISBN 3-7705-3075-6.
Houston, Stephen D. (ed.): The First Writing. Script
Invention as History and Process. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2004. 417 pp. ISBN
0-521-83861-4.
Howell, David L.: Geographies of Identity in Nine-
teenth-Century Japan. Berkeley: University of Cal-
ifornia Press, 2005. 261 pp. ISBN 0-520-24085-5.
Huber, Irene: Rituale der Seuchen- und Schadensab-
wehr im Vorderen Orient und Griechenland. For-
men kollektiver Krisenbewältigung in der Antike.
Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005. 287 pp.
ISBN 3-515-08045-7. (Oriens et Occidens, 10)
Hurbon, Laënnec : Religions et lien social. L’église
et l’état moderne en Haïti. Paris : Les Éditions du
Cerf, 2004. 317 pp. ISBN 2-204-07242-7.
Ikeya, Kazunobu, and Elliot Fratkin (eds.): Pastoral-
ists and Their Neighbors in Asia and Africa. Osa-
ka: National Museum of Ethnology, 2005. 241 pp.,
photos. ISBN 4-901906-34-8. (Senri Ethnological
Studies, 69)
Inda, Jonathan Xavier: Targeting Immigrants. Govern-
ment, Technology, and Ethics. Malden: Blackwell
Publishing, 2006. 216 pp. ISBN 1-4051-1243-7.
Ins tiefste Afrika. Paul Pogge und seine präkolonialen
Reisen ins südliche Kongobecken. Bearb. u. hrsg.
von Hartmut Pogge von Strandmann. Berlin: trafo
verlag, 2004. 477 pp. ISBN 3-89626-323-4. (Co-
gnoscere historias, 14)
Interreligious Dialogue. Interreligiöser Dialog. Forum
Mission. Kriens: Brunner Verlag, 2005. 246 pp.
ISBN 3-03727-007-1. (Jahrbuch, 1)
Ismail, Qadri: Abiding by Sri Lanka. On Peace,
Place, and Postcoloniality. Minneapolis: University
of Minnesota Press, 2005. 273 pp. ISBN 0-8166-
4255-9. (Public Worlds, 16)
Jackson, Keith, and Alan McRobie: Historical Dictio-
nary of New Zealand. 2nd ed. Lanham: The Scare-
crow Press, 2005. 451 pp. ISBN 0-8108-5306-X.
(Historical Dictionaries of Asia, Oceania, and the
Middle East, 56)
Jackson, Michael: In Sierra Leone. Durham: Duke Uni-
versity Press, 2004. 225 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3313-9.
Jalata, Asafa: Oromia and Ethiopia. State Formation
and Ethnonational Conflict, 1868-2004. Rev. ed.
Trenton: The Read Sea Press, 2005. 291 pp. ISBN
1-56902-246-1.
Jama, Hassan Ali: Who Cares about Somalia. Hassan’s
Ordeal. Reflections on a Nation’s Future. Berlin:
Verlag Hans Schiler, 2005. 151 pp. ISBN 3-89930-
075-0.
Jarvenpa, Robert, and Hetty Jo Brumbach (eds.):
Circumpolar Lives and Livelihood. A Comparative
Ethnoarchaeology of Gender and Subsistence. Lin-
coln: University of Nebraska Press, 2006. 330 pp.
ISBN 0-8032-2606-3.
Jarvis, Dale G.: Wonderful Strange. Ghosts, Fairies,
and Fabulous Beasties of Newfoundland and Lab-
rador. St. John’s: Flanker Press, 2005. 216 pp.
ISBN 1-894463-76-5.
Jasper, David: The Sacred Desert. Religion, Literature,
Art, and Culture. Malden; Blackwell Publishing,
2004. 208 pp. ISBN 1-4051-1975-6.
Jenkins, Philip; Dream Catchers. How Mainstream
America Discovered Native Spirituality. Oxford:
Anthropos 101.2006
672
Neue Publikationen
Oxford University Press, 2004. 306 pp. ISBN
0-19-516115-7.
Jenny, Mathias: The Verb System of Mon. Zürich:
Universität Zürich, 2005. 295 pp. ISBN 3-9522954-
1-8. (ASAS, 19)
Jeschke, Claudia, und Helmut Zedelmaier (Hrsg.):
Andere Körper - Fremde Bewegungen. Theatrale
und öffentliche Inszenierungen im 19. Jahrhundert.
Münster: Lit Verlag, 2005. 354 pp. ISBN 3-8258-
8546-1. (Kulturgeschichtliche Perspektiven, 4)
Jesús, Ursula de: The Souls of Purgatory. The Spiritu-
al Diary of a Seventeenth-Century Afro-Peruvian
Mystics, Ursula de Jesús. Transi., ed., and with
an introd. by Nancy E. van Deusen. Albuquerque:
University of New Mexico Press, 2004. 221 pp.
ISBN 0-8263-2828-8.
Jiménez Lozano, José: Kastilien. Eine spirituelle Reise
durch das Herz Spaniens. Fribourg: Paulusverlag;
Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2005. 246 pp., Fotos. ISBN
3-7228-0665-8; ISBN 3-17-019020-2.
Johannessen, Helle, and Imre Lázár (eds.): Multiple
Medical Realities. Patients and Healers in Bio-
medical, Alternative, and Traditional Medicine.
New York: Berghahn Books, 2006. 202 pp. ISBN
1-84545-104-X.
Johnson-Hanks, Jennifer: Uncertain Honor. Modem
Motherhood in an African Crisis. Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 2006. 301 pp. ISBN
0-226-40182-0.
Jones, Martin, and A. C. Fabian (eds.): Conflict. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. 176 pp.
ISBN 0-521-83960-2.
Jones, Robert Alun: The Secret of the Totem. Religion
and Society from McLennan to Freud. New York:
Columbia University Press, 2005. 347 pp. ISBN
0-231-13438-X.
Kabamba, Nkamany: Songye of the Democratic Re-
public of Congo. A Legacy to Remember. Hallan-
dale Beach: Aglob Publishing, 2004. 120 pp. ISBN
1-59427-007-4.
Kamocki, Janusz, et al. (eds.): Pogranicza kulturowe i
etniczne w Polsce. Wroclaw: Polskie Towarzystwo
Ludoznawcze, 2003. 262 pp. ISBN 83-87266-06-X.
(Archiwum etnograficzne, 41)
--- Polska - Niemcy. Pogranicze kulturowe i etnicz-
ne - Poland - Germany. Cultural and Ethnic Bor-
der. Wroclaw: Polskie Towarzystwo Ludoznawcze,
2004. 333 pp. ISBN 83-87266-16-7. (Archiwum
etnograficzne, 42)
Kan, Sergei A., and Pauline lúrner Strong (eds.):
New Perspectives on Native North America. Cul-
tures, Histories, and Representations. Lincoln: Uni-
versity of Nebraska Press, 2006. 514 pp. ISBN
0-8032-7830-6.
Keen, Ian: Aboriginal Economy and Society. Australia
at the Threshold of Colonisation. Repr. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2006. 436 pp. ISBN 0-
19-550766-5.
Khan, Aisha: Callaloo Nation. Metaphors of Race and
Religious Identity among South Asians in Trinidad.
Durham: Duke University Press, 2004. 264 pp.
ISBN 0-8223-3388-0.
King, J. C. H., et al. (eds.); Arctic Clothing of North
America. Alaska, Canada, Greenland. Montréal:
McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2005. 160 pp.,
photos. ISBN 0-7735-3008-8.
Kirsch, Peter: Die Barbaren aus dem Süden. Europäer
im alten Japan 1543 bis 1854. Wien: Mandelbaum
Verlag, 2004. 399 pp. ISBN 3-85476-137-6. (Ex-
pansion, Interaktion, Akkulturation, 6)
Kitzinger, Jenny: Framing Abuse. Media Influence and
Public Understanding of Sexual Violence against
Children. London; Pluto Press, 2004. 236 pp. ISBN
0-7453-2331-6.
Klein-Arendt, Reinhard: Bridging the Unbridgeable.
Historical Traditions of the Ngoni of Northern
Malawi. Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag, 2003. 92 pp.
ISBN 3-89645-275-4. (Wortkunst und Dokumen-
tartexte in afrikanischen Sprachen, 19)
Kleine, Christoph, et al. (Hrsg.): Unterwegs. Neue
Pfade in der Religionswissenschaft. Festschrift für
Michael Pye zum 65. Geburtstag - New Paths in
the Study of Religions. Festschrift in Honour of
Michael Pye on his 65th Birthday. München: Bib-
lion Verlag, 2004. 432 pp. ISBN 3-932331-93-1.
Klöcker, Michael, und Udo Tworuschka (Hrsg.);
Ethik der Weltreligionen. Ein Handbuch. Darm-
stadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2005.
310 pp. ISBN 3-534-17253-1.
Knörr, Jacqueline (ed.): Childhood and Migration.
From Experience to Agency. Bielefeld: transcript
Verlag, 2005. 228 pp. ISBN 3-89942-384-4.
König, Gudrun M. (Hrsg.): Alltagsdinge. Erkundun-
gen der materiellen Kultur. Tübingen: Tübinger
Vereinigung für Volkskunde, 2005. 167 pp. ISBN
3-932512-31-6. (Studien und Materialien, 27; Tü-
binger kulturwissenschaftliche Gespräche, 1)
Konstantinov, Yulian: Reindeer-Herders. Field-Notes
from the Kola Peninsula (1994-95). Uppsala:
DiCA - Uppsala Universitet, 2005. 460 pp. ISBN
91-506-1831-8.
Kowalski, Andreas F.: “Tu és quem sabe.” “Du bist der-
jenige, der es weiß.” Das kulturspezifische Ver-
ständnis der Canela von Indianerhilfe. Ein ethno-
graphisches Beispiel aus dem indianischen Nordost-
Brasilien. Marburg; Curupira, 2004. 253 pp. ISBN
3-8185-0396-6. (Curupira, 18)
Kramer, Fritz W.: Schriften zur Ethnologie. Hrsg,
von Tobias Rees. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag,
2005. 418 pp. ISBN 3-518-29288-9. (Suhrkamp
Taschenbuch Wissenschaft, 1688)
Kraus, Michael, und Mark Münzel (Hrsg.): Museum
und Universität in der Ethnologie. Marburg; Curu-
pira, 2003. 249 pp. ISBN 3-8185-0379-6. (Curupira
Workshop, 8)
Kreinath, Jens, etal. (eds.): The Dynamics of Changing
Rituals. The Transformation of Religious Rituals
within Their Social and Cultural Context. New
York: Peter Lang Publishing, 2004. 287 pp. ISBN
0-8204-6826-6. (Toronto Studies in Religion, 29)
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
673
Kuehling, Susanne: Dobu. Ethics of Exchange on
a Massim Island, Papua New Guinea. Honolulu:
University of Hawai’i Press, 2005. 329 pp. ISBN
0-8248-2731-7.
Kühne, Hartmut, und Anne-Katrin Ziesak (Hrsg.):
Wunder, Wallfahrt, Widersacher. Die Wilsnack-
fahrt. Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet, 2005.
216 pp. ISBN 3-7917-1969-6.
Kuwahara, Makiko: Tattoo. An Anthropology. Oxford;
Berg, 2005. 268 pp. ISBN 1-84520-155-8.
LaDuke, Winona: Recovering the Sacred. The Power
of Naming and Claiming. Cambridge: South End
Press, 2005. 294 pp. ISBN 0-89608-712-3.
Lamine, Anne-Sophie : La cohabitation des dieux. Plu-
ralité religieuse et laïcité. Paris : Presses Universi-
taires de France, 2004. 318 pp. ISBN 2-13-054764-
8.
Lange, Katharina: “Zurückholen, was uns gehört.” In-
digenisierungstendenzen in der arabischen Ethno-
logie. Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2005. 269 pp.
ISBN 3-89942-217-1.
Lanwerd, Susanne: Religionsästhetik. Studien zum
Verhältnis von Symbol und Sinnlichkeit. Würz-
burg: Königshausen und Neumann, 2002. 211 pp.
ISBN 3-8260-2228-9.
Largey, Michael: Voudou Nation. Haitian Art, Music,
and Cultural Nationalism. Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press, 2006. 283 pp. ISBN 0-226-
46865-8.
Las Casas, Bartolomé de: Kurzgefasster Bericht von
der Verwüstung der Westindischen Länder. Hrsg,
von Michael Sievernich. Frankfurt: Insel Verlag,
2006. 247 pp. ISBN 3-458-34862-X. (Insel Ta-
schenbuch, 3162)
Leipold, Claudia: “Our Native Thing.” Studie zum
Geschichtsbild der Sanandresanos in der kolumbia-
nischen Karibik. Marburg: Curupira, 2004. 299 pp.
ISBN 3-8185-0382-6. (Curupira, 16)
León-Portilla, Miguel: Codices. Los antiguos libros
del nuevo mundo. México: Aguilar, 2004. 335 pp.
ISBN 968-19-1183-0.
Le Vine, Sarah, and David N. Gellner: Rebuilding Bud-
dhism. The Theravada Movement in Twentieth-
Century Nepal. Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 2005. 377 pp. ISBN 0-674-01908-3. .
Lewin, Ellen (ed.): Feminist Anthropology. A Reader.
Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2006. 460 pp. ISBN
1-4051-0196-2. (Blackwell Anthologies in Social
and Cultural Anthropology, 8)
Liebelt, Udo, und Folker Metzger (Hrsg.); Vom Geist
der Dinge. Das Museum als Forum für Ethik und
Religion. Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2005. 195 pp.
ISBN 3-89942-398-4.
Lindquist, Galina: Conjuring Hope. Healing and Mag-
ic in Contemporary Russia. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2006. 251 pp. ISBN 1-84545-093-0. (Epis-
temologies of Healing, 1)
Linnenborn, Hiltrud: Die frühen Könige von Tibet
und ihre Konstruktion in den religiösen Überliefe-
rungen. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2004.
422 pp. ISBN 3-447-04911-1. (Asiatische For-
schungen, 147)
Linnertz, Birgit P.: Tiyospaye. Politische Gruppen der
Plains-Indianer in der Vor-Reservationszeit. Wyk
auf Föhr: Verlag für Amerikanistik, 2005. 143 pp.
ISBN 3-89510-105-2.
Llobera, Josep R.: Foundations of National Identity.
From Catalonia to Europe. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2004. 215 pp. ISBN 1-84545-042-6. (New
Directions in Anthropology, 19)
Lohrenscheit, Claudia: Das Recht auf Menschen -
rechtsbildung. Grundlagen und Ansätze einer Päda-
gogik der Menschenrechte. Mit einer Studie über
aktuelle Entwicklungslinien der “Human Rights
Education” in Südafrika. Frankfurt: IKO - Verlag
für Interkulturelle Kommunikation, 2004. 310 pp.
ISBN 3-88939-718-2. (Internationale Beiträge zu
Kindheit, Arbeit und Bildung, 10)
Lout, Hotze: Juggling Money. Financial Self-Help Or-
ganizations and Social Security in Yogyakarta. Lei-
den; KITLV Press, 2005. 292 pp. ISBN 90-6718-
240-0. (Verhandelingen van het Koninklijk Instituut
voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, 221)
Lopez, Donald S., Jr. (ed.): Critical Terms for the Study
of Buddhism. Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press, 2005. 353 pp. ISBN 0-226-49315-6.
Lucas, Phillip Charles, and Thomas Robbins (eds.):
New Religious Movements in the Twenty-First
Century. Legal, Political, and Social Challenges in
Global Perspective. New York: Routlegde, 2004.
364 pp. ISBN 0-415-96577-2.
Luttmann, Ilsemargret (Hrsg.): Mode in Afrika. Mo-
de als Mittel der Selbstinszenierung und Aus-
druck der Moderne. Katalog zur Ausstellung. Ham-
burg: Museum für Völkerkunde, 2005. 148 pp.,
Fotos.
Lydon, Jane: Eye Contact. Photographing Indigenous
Australians. Durham: Duke University Press, 2005.
303 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3572-7.
Lynch, Gordon: Understanding Theology and Popu-
lar Culture. Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.
236 pp. ISBN 1-4051-1747-8.
McKinnon, Susan: Neo-Liberal Genetics. The Myths
and Moral Tales of Evolutionary Psychology.
Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press, 2005. 169 pp.
ISBN 0-9761475-2-1. (Paradigm, 22)
Magezi, M. W., et al: The People of the Rwenzoris.
The Bayira (Bakonzo/Banande) and Their Culture.
Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag, 2004. 111 pp. ISBN
3-89645-421-8. (Africans Write Back, 2)
Malik, Aditya, et al. (eds.): In the Company of Gods.
Essays in Memory of Günther-Dietz Sontheimer.
New Delhi: Manohar, 2005. 409 pp. ISBN 81-
7304-591-7.
Mandala, Elias C.: The End of Chidyerano. A History
of Food and Everyday Life in Malawi, 1860-2004.
Portsmouth: Heinemann, 2005. 346 pp. ISBN 0-
325-07020-2.
Marcus, George E., and Fernando Mascarenhas:
Ocasiäo. The Marquis and the Anthropologist.
Anthropos 101.2006
674
Neue Publikationen
A Collaboration. Walnut Creek: AltaMira Press,
2005. 395 pp. ISBN 0-7591-0777-7.
Marsden, Magnus: Living Islam. Muslim Religious
Experience in Pakistan’s North-West Frontier. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. 297 pp.
ISBN 0-521-61765-0.
Marshall, Paul: Mystical Encounters with the Natu-
ral World. Experiences and Explanations. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2005. 324 pp. ISBN 0-19-
927943-8.
Marzari, Robert: Fesselndes Arabisch. Strukturelle
Schwierigkeiten und künstliche Barrieren in der
arabischen Sprache. Berlin: Verlag Hans Schlier,
2004. 172 pp. ISBN 3-89930-076-9.
Masilamani-Meyer, Eveline: Guardians of Tamilnadu.
Folk Deities, Folk Religion, Hindu Themes. Halle:
Verlag der Franckeschen Stiftungen, 2004. 279 pp.
ISBN 3-931479-61-7. (Neue Hallesche Berichte,
5)
Matemba, Yonah: Matandani. The Second Adventist
Mission in Malawi. Zomba; Kachere Series, 2005.
150 pp. ISBN 99908-76-00-2. (Kachere Theses, 1)
Matthes, Joachim: Das Eigene und das Fremde. Ge-
sammelte Aufsätze zu Gesellschaft, Kultur und
Religion. Hrsg, von Rüdiger Schloz. Würzburg:
Ergon Verlag, 2005. 472 pp. ISBN 3-89913-438-9.
(Religion in der Gesellschaft, 19)
Mbacke, Khadim: Sufism and Religious Brotherhoods
in Senegal. Princeton: Markus Wiener Publishers,
2005. 141 pp. ISBN 1-55876-342-2.
Mead, Margaret: Ruth Benedict. A Humanist in
Anthropology. 30th anniversary ed. New York:
Columbia University Press, 2005. 180 pp. ISBN
0-231-13491-6.
Mensen, Bernhard (Hrsg.): Ethische Fragen heute.
Nettetal: Steyler Verlag, 2005. 126 pp. ISBN 3-
8050-0531-8. (Vortragsreihe Akademie Völker und
Kulturen, 28)
Menter, Ulrich: Ozeanien, Kult und Visionen. Verbor-
gene Schätze aus deutschen Völkerkundemuseen.
Hrsg, von Rainer Springhorn. München; Prestel,
2003. 238 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-7913-2908-1. (Ka-
taloge des Lippischen Landesmuseums, 10)
Merry, Sally Engle: Human Rights and Gender Vi-
olence. Translating International Law into Local
Justice. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
2006. 269 pp. ISBN 0-226-52074-9.
Messner, Angelika C., und Konrad Hirschler (Hrsg.):
Heilige Orte in Asien und Afrika. Räume göttlicher
Macht und menschlicher Verehrung. Schenefeld:
EB-Verlag Dr. Brandt, 2006. 281 pp. ISBN 3-
936912- 19-X. (Asien und Afrika, 11)
Metcalf, Peter: Anthropology. The Basics. London:
Routledge, 2005. 215 pp. ISBN 0-415-33120-X.
Meyer, Melissa L.; Thicker than Water. The Origins of
Blood as Symbol and Ritual. New York: Routledge,
2005. 263 pp. ISBN 0-415-93530-X.
Michaels, Axel: Hinduism. Past and Present. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 2004. 429 pp. ISBN
0-691-08952-3.
Mohr de Collado, Maren: Lebensformen zwischen
“Hier” und “Dort”. Transnationale Migration und
Wandel bei den Garinagu in Guatemala und New
York. Aachen: Shaker Verlag, 2005. 274 pp. ISBN
3-8322-2699-0. (BAS, 40)
Möller, Andre: Ramadan in Java. The Joy and Jihad
of Ritual Fasting. Lund: Almqvist and Wikseil,
2005. 451 pp. ISBN 91-22-02116-7. (Lund Studies
in History of Religions, 20)
Monterrosa Prado, Mariano, y Leticia Talavera
Solórzano: Las devociones cristianas en México,
en el cambio de milenio. México: Instituto Na-
cional de Antropología e Historia; Plaza y Valdés,
2002. 238 pp. ISBN 970-18-8311-X; ISBN 970-
722-090-2.
Moore, Henrietta L., and Todd Sanders (eds.): Anthro-
pology in Theory. Issues in Epistemology. Oxford:
Blackwell Publishing, 2006. 656 pp. ISBN 0-631-
22915-9.
Moran, Brian: The Business of Ethnography. Strate-
gic Exchanges, People and Organizations. Oxford;
Berg, 2005. 225 pp. ISBN 1-84520-195-7.
Morgan, David: The Sacred Gaze. Religious Visual
Culture in Theory and Practice. Berkeley: Uni-
versity of California Press, 2005. 318 pp. ISBN
0-520-24306-4.
Morkot, Robert G.: The Egyptians. An Introduction.
London.: Routledge, 2005. 245 pp. ISBN 0-415-
27104-5.
Morris, Brian: Religion and Anthropology. A Criti-
cal Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2006. 350 pp. ISBN 0-521-61779-0.
Morris Wu, Eleanor: From China to Taiwan. His-
torical, Anthropological and Religious Perspec-
tives. Nettetal; Steyler Verlag, 2004. 274 pp. ISBN
3-8050-0514-8.
Mosko, Mark S., and Frederick H. Damon (eds.): On
the Order of Chaos. Social Anthropology and the
Science of Chaos. New York: Berghahn Books,
2005. 276 pp. ISBN 1-84545-024-8.
Moss, Paul: Hinóno’éínoo3ítoono. Arapaho Historical
Traditions. Ed., transí., and with a glossary by
Andrew Cowell and Alonzo Moss Sr. Winnipeg:
The University of Manitoba Press, 2005. 531pp.
ISBN 0-88755-683-3.
Miickler, Hermann, et al. (Hrsg.): Ethnohistorie. Em-
pirie und Praxis. Wien; WUV, 2006. 516 pp. ISBN
3-85114-335-3. (Wiener Beiträge zur Ethnologie
und Anthropologie, 14)
Muecke, Stephen, and Adam Shoemaker; Aboriginal
Australians. First Nations of an Ancient Continent.
London: Thames and Hudson, 2004. 127 pp., pho-
tos. ISBN 0-500-30114-X.
Müller, Christine: Local Knowledge and Gender in
Ghana. Bielefeld; transcript Verlag, 2005. 208 pp.
ISBN 3-89942-378-X.
Müller, Klaus E., und Ute Ritz-Müller: Des Wi-
derspenstigen Zähmung. Sinnwelten prämodemer
Gesellschaften. Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2004.
211 pp. ISBN 3-89942-134-5.
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
675
Nadeau, Kathleen M.: Liberation Theology in the
Philippines. Faith in a Revolution. Westport: Prae-
ger, 2002. 129 pp. ISBN 0-275-97198-8.
Nadolska-Styczyihska, Anna: Ludy zamorskich 4dow.
Kultury pozaeuropejskie a dzialnosc popularyza-
torska. Ligi Morskiej i Kolonialnej. Wroclaw:
Polskie Towarzystwo Ludoznawcze, 2005. 246 pp.
ISBN 83-87266-51-5. (Prace etnologiczne, 16)
Nagesh, Hebbale K.: Glimpses of Karnataka Folklore.
New Delhi: Bharatiya Kala Prakashan, 2004. 98 pp.
ISBN 81-8090-047-9.
Nannyonga-Tamusuza, Sylvia A.; Baakisimba. Gender
in the Music and Dance of the Baganda People of
Uganda. New York: Routledge, 2005. 294 pp. ISBN
0-415-96776-7.
Narayan, Shovana: Folk Dance Traditions of India.
Gurgaon: Shubhi Publication, 2004. 272 pp., pho-
tos. ISBN 81-87226-93-5.
Neethling, Bertie: Naming among the Xhosa of South
Africa. Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen Press, 2005.
267 pp. ISBN 0-7734-6167-1. (Studies in Onomas-
tics, 8)
Nekes, Hermann, and Ernest A. Worms: Australian
Languages. Ed. by William B. McGregor. Berlin:
Mouton de Gruyter, 2006. 415 pp., CD-ROM.
ISBN 3-11-017597-5. (Trends in Linguistics, Doc-
umentation, 24)
Nevling Porter, Barbara (ed.); Ritual and Politics
in Ancient Mesopotamia. New Haven: American
Oriental Society, 2005. 120 pp. ISBN 0-940490-
19-6. (American Oriental Series, 88)
Nicoletti, Martino: Shamanic Solitudes. Ecstasy, Mad-
ness, and Spirit Possession in the Nepal Himalayas.
Kathmandu: Vajra Publications, 2004. 175 pp.
ISBN 99333-695-1-9.
Niesseler, Andreas: Bildung und Lebenspraxis. Anthro-
pologische Studien zur Bildungstheorie. Würzburg:
Ergon Verlag, 2005. 145 pp. ISBN 3-89913-422-2.
(Erziehung, Schule, Gesellschaft, 36)
Norget, Kristin: Days of Death, Days of Life. Ritual
in the Popular Culture of Oaxaca. New York:
Columbia University Press, 2006. 319 pp. ISBN
0-231-13689-7.
Odhiambo Makoloo, Maurice: Kenya. Minorities, In-
digenous Peoples and Ethnic Diversity. London:
Minority Rights Group International, 2005. 40 pp.
ISBN 1-904584-24-1.
Oelschlägel, Anett C.: Der weiße Weg. Naturreligion
und Divination bei den West-Tyva im Süden Sibi-
riens. Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag, 2004.
128 pp. ISBN 3-937209-52-2. (Arbeiten aus dem
Institut für Ethnologie der Universität Leipzig,
3)
Offiong, Daniel A.: Secret Cults in Nigerian Tertiary
Institutions. Enugu: Fourth Dimension Publishers,
2003. 154 pp. ISBN 978-156-592-6.
Okano, Haruko K.: Christliche Theologie im japani-
schen Kontext. Frankfurt: IKO - Verlag für In-
terkulturelle Kommunikation, 2002. 214 pp. ISBN
3-88939-672-0. (Theologie Interkulturell, 13)
Okkenhaug, Inger Marie, and Ingvild Flaskerud
(eds.): Gender, Religion, and Change in the Mid-
dle East. Two Hundred Years of History. Oxford:
Berg, 2005. 230 pp. ISBN 1-84520-199-X. (Cross-
Cultural Perspectives on Women, 26)
Olupona, Jacob (ed.): Beyond Primitivism. Indigenous
Religious Traditions and Modernity. New York:
Routledge, 2004. 348 pp. ISBN 0-415-27319-6.
O’Malley, John W., et al. (eds.): The Jesuits II. Cul-
tures, Sciences, and the Arts, 1540-1773. Toronto;
University of Toronto Press, 2006. 905 pp. ISBN
0-8020-3861-1.
O’Reilly, Karen: Ethnographic Methods. London: Rout-
ledge, 2005. 252 pp. ISBN 0-415-32156-5.
Osei-Bonsu, Joseph: The Inculturation of Christianity
in Africa. Antecedents and Guidelines from the
New Testament and the Early Church. Frankfurt:
Peter Lang, 2005. 130 pp. ISBN 3-631-53790-5.
(New Testament Studies in Contextual Exegesis,
1)
Osgood, Cornelius: Winter. The Strange and Haunting
Record of One Man’s Experiences in the Far North.
Pbk. ed. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,
2006. 255 pp. ISBN 0-8032-8623-6.
Overmyer, Daniel L. (ed.): Religion in China Today.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003.
235 pp. ISBN 0-521-53823-8. (The China Quarter-
ly Special Issues, New Series, 3)
Pandey, S. P., and Awadhesh Kumar Singh: Folk
Culture in India. New Delhi: Serials Publications,
2005. 450 pp. ISBN 81-86771-41-7.
Pawlik, Jacek Jan: Zaradzic nieszcz^sciu. Rytualy
kryzysowe u ludu Basari z Togo. Olsztyn: Studio
poligrafii komputerowej, 2006. 301 pp. ISBN 83-
88125-45-1. (Biblioteka wydzialu teologii, 31)
Pérez Martínez, Herón, y Raúl Eduardo González
(eds.): El folclor literario en México. Zamora: El
Colegio de Michoacán, 2003. 417 pp. ISBN 970-
679-105-1.
Petzold, Leander, und Oliver Haid (Hrsg.): Beiträge
zur Rezeptions- und Wirkungsgeschichte der Volks-
erzählung. Berichte und Referate des zwölften
und dreizehnten Symposions zur Volkserzählung,
Brunnenburg/Südtirol 1998-1999. Frankfurt: Pe-
ter Lang, 2005. 448 pp. ISBN 3-631-50523-X.
(Beiträge zur europäischen Ethnologie und Folk-
lore, Reihe B: Tagungsberichte und Materialien,
9)
Peyer, Nathalie: Death and Afterlife in a Tamil Village.
Discourses of Low Caste Women. Münster: Lit
Verlag, 2004. 101pp. ISBN 3-8258-6991-1. (Per-
formanzen/Performances, 6)
Piegeler, Hildegard, et al. (Hrsg.): Gelebte Religionen.
Untersuchungen zur sozialen Gestaltungskraft re-
ligiöser Vorstellungen und Praktiken in Geschichte
und Gegenwart. Festschrift für Hartmut Zinser zum
60. Geburtstag. Würzburg: Königshausen und Neu-
mann, 2004. 372 pp. ISBN 3-8260-2768-X.
Piepke, Joachim G. (Hrsg.); Die Kirche - erfahrbar
und sichtbar in Amt und Eucharistie. Zur Proble-
Anthropos 101.2006
676
Neue Publikationen
matik der Stellung von Amt und Abendmahl im
ökumenischen Gespräch. Nettetal: Steyler Verlag,
2006. 150 pp. ISBN 3-8050-0527-X. (Veröffent-
lichungen des Missionspriesterseminars St. Augus-
tin, 55)
Piette, Albert : Petit traité d’anthropologie. Marchienne-
au-Pont : Socrate Éditions Promarex, 2006. 95 pp.
ISBN 2-930394-07-2. (Science éphémère, 3)
Pink, Sarah (ed.): Applications of Anthropology. Pro-
fessional Anthropology in the Twenty-First Cen-
tury. New York: Berghahn Books, 2006. 244 pp.
ISBN 1-84545-063-9. (Studies in Applied Anthro-
pology, 2)
Pintchman, Tracy: Guests at God’s Wedding. Celebrat-
ing Kartik among the Women of Benares. Albany:
SUNY Press, 2005. 241 pp. ISBN 0-7914-6596-9.
Pinto Rodriguez, Jorge: La formación del estado y
la nación y el pueblo mapuche. De la inclusión
a la exclusión. Santiago de Chile: Ediciones de
la Dirección de Bibliotecas, Archivos y Museos,
2003. 319 pp. ISBN 956-244-156-3.
Pinxten, Rik, and Ellen Preckler (eds.); Racism in
Metropolitan Areas. New York: Berghahn Books,
2006. 190 pp. ISBN 1-84545-089-2. (Culture and
Politics / Politics and Culture, 3)
Poisson, Emmanuel : Mandarins et subalternes au
nord du Viêt Nam. Une bureaucratie à l’épreuve
(1820-1918). Paris : Maisonneuve & Larose, 2004.
355 pp. ISBN 2-7068-1710-0.
Portmann, Adrian: Kochen und Essen als implizite
Religion. Lebenswelt, Sinnstiftung und alimentäre
Praxis. Münster: Waxmann, 2003. 349 pp. ISBN
3-8309-1204-8.
Poulson, Stephen C.: Social Movements in Twentieth-
Century Iran. Culture, Ideology, and Mobiliz-
ing Framework. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2005.
339 pp. ISBN 0-7391-0888-3.
Pradelles de Latour, Charles-Henry : Rites thérapeu-
tiques dans une société matrilinéaire. Le gèrem des
Pèrè (Cameroun). Paris : Éditions Karthala, 2005.
247 pp. ISBN 2-84586-694-1.
Prado O., Juan Guillermo: Maria en Chile. Fiestas
populares. Santiago de Chile; Editorial Biblioteca
Americana, 2002. 135 pp. ISBN 956-7247-37-4.
Pratt, Douglas: The Challenge of Islam. Encounters in
Interfaith Dialogue. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing,
2005. 257 pp. ISBN 0-7546-5123-1.
Puri, Rajindra K.: Deadly Dances in the Bornean
Rainforest. Hunting Knowledge of the Penan Be-
nalui. Leiden: KITLV Press, 2005. 408 pp. ISBN
90-6718-239-7. (Verhandelingen van het Konink-
lijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde,
222)
Quack, Anton: Von Missionaren für Missionare -
100 Jahre Anthropos. Sep.: Anregung (Nettetal)
58.2006: 66-71.
Raghavan, Padma, and Savita Narayan: Navagraha
Temples of Tamil Nadu. Kaveri Delta. Mumbai:
English Edition Publishers, 2005. 145 pp. ISBN
81-89066-22-6.
Ramos, Manuel Joäo, and Isabel Boavida (eds.): The
Indigenous and the Foreign in Christian Ethiopi-
an Art. On Portuguese-Ethiopian Contacts in the
16th-17th Centuries. Papers from the Fifth Inter-
national Conference on the History of Ethiopian
Art (Arrábida, 16-30 November 1999). Aldershot:
Ashgate Publishing, 2004. 181pp. ISBN 0-7546-
5037-5.
Rao, Ursula, and John Hutnyk (eds.): Celebrating
Transgression. Method and Politics in Anthropo-
logical Studies of Culture. A Book in Honour of
Klaus Peter Köpping. New York: Berghahn Books,
2006. 253 pp. ISBN 1-84545-025-6.
Rapp, Francis: Christentum IV. Zwischen Mittelalter
und Neuzeit (1378-1552). Stuttgart: Verlag W.
Kohlhammer, 2006. 473 pp. ISBN 3-17-015278-5.
(Die Religionen der Menschheit, 31)
Rasmussen, Susan J.: Those Who Touch. Tuareg
Medicine Women in Anthropological Perspective.
DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2006.
234 pp. ISBN 0-87580-610-4.
Reddy, T. Sarita, and Birad Rajaram Yajnik: Tiru-
mala Tirupati. The Legends and Beyond. Hyder-
abad: Visual Quest India, 2005. 193 pp., photos.
ISBN 81-902871-0-9.
Rehder, Peter (Hrsg.); Einführung in die slavischen
Sprachen (mit einer Einführung in die Balkanphi-
lologie). 5., durchges. Aufl. Darmstadt: Wissen-
schaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2006. 367 pp. ISBN
3-534-19711-9.
Renard, John: Historical Dictionary of Sufism. Lan-
ham: The Scarecrow Press, 2005. 351 pp. ISBN
0-8108-5342-6. (Historical Dictionaries of Reli-
gions, Philosophies, and Movements, 58)
Richardson Fleming, Paula: Native American Photog-
raphy at the Smithsonian. The Shindler Catalogue.
Washington: Smithsonian Books, 2003. 371 pp.,
photos. ISBN 1-58834-121-6.
Richter, Sabine: Werwölfe und Zaubertänze. Vorchrist-
liche Glaubensvorstellungen in Hexenprozessen
der frühen Neuzeit. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2004.
275 pp. ISBN 3-631-51386-0. (Europäische Hoch-
schulschriften, Reihe 22: Soziologie, 392)
Robson; Andrew E.: Prelude to Empire. Consuls,
Missionary Kingdoms, and the Pre-Colonial South
Seas Seen through the Life of William Thomas
Pritchard. Wien: Lit Verlag, 2004. 206 pp. ISBN
3-2858-6999-7. (Novara, 3)
Rocha Vivas, Miguel: El héroe de nuestra imagen.
Visión del héroe en las literaturas indígenas de
America. Bogotá: Convenio Andrés Bello, 2004.
195 pp. ISBN 958-698-132-0.
Roodenburg, Herman: The Eloquence of the Body.
Perspectives on Gesture in the Dutch Republic.
Zwolle: Waanders Publishers, 2004. 208 pp. ISBN
90-400-9474-8. (Studies in Netherlandish Art and
Cultural History, 6)
Rose, Jacqueline: The Question of Zion. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 2005. 202 pp. ISBN
0-691-11750-0.
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
677
Rößler, Maren: Ringen um Vielfalt in der Einheit.
Rigoberta Menchü und das movimiento maya in
Guatemala. Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag,
2004. 115 pp. ISBN 3-937209-42-5. (Arbeiten aus
dem Institut für Ethnologie der Universität Leipzig,
1)
Rubongoya, L. T.: Naaho Nubo. The Ways of Our An-
cestors. Köln: Rüdiger Koppe Verlag, 2003. 137 pp.
ISBN 3-89645-420-X. (Africans Write Back, 1)
Rushing, Janice Hocker: Erotic Mentoring. Women’s
Transformations in The University. Walnut Creek:
Left Coast Press, 2006. 309 pp. ISBN 1-59874-027-
X.
Ryenkiewich, Michael A. (ed.): Land and Churches
in Melanesia. Cases and Procedures. Goroka: The
Melanesian Institute, 2004. 328 pp. ISBN 9980-65-
001-X. (Point, 27)
Rytcheu, Juri: Der letzte Schamane. Die Tschuktschen-
Saga. Repr. Zürich: Unionsverlag, 2004. 344 pp.
ISBN 3-293-20295-0.
St. John, Graham (ed.); Rave Culture and Reli-
gion. Abingdon: Routledge, 2004. 314 pp. ISBN
0-415-31449-6. (Routledge Advances in Sociology,
8)
Salazar, Carles: Anthropology and Sexual Morality.
A Theoretical Investigation. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2006. 197 pp. ISBN 1-84545-092-2.
Samba, Emelda Ngufor: Women in Theatre for De-
velopment in Cameroon. Participation, Contribu-
tions, and Limitations. Bayreuth: Bayreuth Univer-
sity, 2005. 245 pp. ISBN 3-927510-86-6. (Bayreuth
African Studies, 74)
Santangelo, Antonio: Intellective Elements Morpho-
typing Homo. Evidence for an Advanced Plio-
Pleistocene Hominid from East Rudolf, Kenya.
Segrate: Rian Graf Editrice, 2006. 58 pp.
Sardan, Jean-Pierre Olivier de: Anthropology and
Development. Understanding Contemporary Social
Change. London: Zed Books, 2005. 243 pp. ISBN
1-84277-417-4.
Sauer, Birgit, und Eva-Maria Knoll (Hrsg.): Rituali-
sierungen von Geschlecht. Wien; Facultas Verlags-
und Buchhandels AG WUV, 2006. 246 pp. ISBN
3-85114-952-1.
Sawada, Janine Tasca: Practical Pursuits. Religion,
Politics, and Personal Cultivation in Nineteenth-
Century Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i
Press, 2004. 387 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2752-X.
Schafft, Gretchen E.: From Racism to Genocide. An-
thropology in the Third Reich. Urbana: University
of Illinois Press, 2004. 297 pp. ISBN 0-252-02930-
5.
Schmidt, Bettina E., et al. (Hrsg.): Wilde Denker.
Unordnung und Erkenntnis auf dem Tellerrand
der Ethnologie. Festschrift für Mark Münzel zum
60. Geburtstag. Marburg: Institut für Vergleichen-
de Kulturforschung, 2003. 358 pp. ISBN 3-8185-
0374-5. (Curupira, 14)
Schnegg, Michael: Das Fiesta Netzwerk. Soziale Or-
ganisation einer mexikanischen Gemeinde 1679-
2001. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2005. 313 pp. ISBN
3-8258-8810-X. (Kölner ethnologische Studien, 31)
Schneider, Arnd, and Christopher Wright (eds.):
Contemporary Art and Anthropology. Oxford: Berg,
2006. 223 pp. ISBN 1-84520-103-5.
Schneider, Jürg, et al. (Hrsg.): Fotofieber. Bilder
aus West- und Zentralafrika. Die Reisen von
Carl Passavant 1883-1885. Basel: Christoph Me-
rian Verlag, 2005. 247 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-85616-
251-8.
Schultes, Richard Evans, y Robert F. Raffauf: El
bejuco del alma. Los médicos tradicionales de la
Amazonia colombiana, sus plantas y sus rituales.
Bogotá: El Ancora Editores, Ediciones Fondo de
Cultura Económica, 2004. 295 pp., fotos. ISBN
958-38-0099-6.
Seeber-Tegethoff, Mareile: Grenzgänger zwischen Re-
ligion und Wissenschaft. Zu den vielfältigen Ver-
flechtungen zwischen afrobrasilianischen terreiros
und der sie erforschenden Anthropologie. Marburg:
Curupira, 2005. 427 pp. ISBN 3-8185-0414-8. (Cu-
rupira, 20)
Seizer, Susan: Stigmas of the Tamil Stage. An Ethnog-
raphy of Special Drama Artists in South India.
Durham: Duke University Press, 2005. 440 pp.
ISBN 0-8223-3443-7.
Sellier, Jean ; Atlas des peuples d’Afrique. Nouvelle
ed. Paris : La Découverte, 2005. 208 pp. ISBN 2-
7071-4743-5.
Sen, Amartya: The Argumentative Indian. Writings
on Indian History, Culture, and Identity. London:
Penguin Books, 2005. 409 pp. ISBN 0-71399-687-
0.
Siebelt, Dagmar: Die Winter Counts der Blackfoot.
Münster; Lit Verlag, 2005. 470 pp. ISBN 3-8258-
8240-5. (Ethnologie, 69)
Singh, Simron Jit: The Nicobar Islands. Cultural
Choices in the Aftermath of the Tsunami - Die
Nikobaren. Das kulturelle Erbe nach dem Tsunami.
Hrsg, von Oliver Lehmann. Wien: Czemin Verlag,
2006. 227 pp. ISBN 3-7076-0078-5.
Singh, Nikky-Guninder Kaur: The Birth of the Khal-
sa. A Feminist Re-Memory of Sikh Identity. Al-
bany: SUNY Press, 2005. 224 pp. ISBN 0-7914-
6584-5.
Singleton, Michael : Critique de l’ethnocentrisme. Du
missionnaire anthropophage à l’anthropologue post-
développementiste. Paris : Parangon, 2004. 252 pp.
ISBN 2-84190-128-9.
Skidmore, Monique (ed.): Burma at the Turn of
the Twenty-First Century. Honolulu: University of
Hawai’i Press, 2005. 304 pp. ISBN 0-8248-2897-6.
Skutsch, Carl, and Martin Ryle (eds.): Encyclopedia of
the World’s Minorities; 3 vols. Vol. 1: A - F; vol. 2:
G - O; vol. 3: P - Z, Index. New York: Routledge,
2005. 1413 pp. ISBN 1-57958-392-X.
Sloat, Susanna (ed.): Caribbean Dance from Abakuá to
Zouk. How Movement Shapes Identity. Gainesville:
University Press of Florida, 2002. 408 pp. ISBN
0-8130-2904-X.
Anthropos 101.2006
678
Neue Publikationen
Snyder, Katherine A.: The Iraqw of Tanzania. Nego-
tiating Rural Development. Cambridge: Westview
Press, 2005. 196 pp. ISBN 0-8133-4245-7.
Solimini, Maria: Anthropology, Otherness, and Exis-
tential Enterprise. New York: Legas, 2005. 76 pp.
ISBN 1-894508-76-9. (Language, Media, and Ed-
ucation Studies, 33)
Sprensen, Per K., and Guntram Hazod: Thundering
Falcon. An Inquiry into History and Cult of Khra-
’brug, Tibet’s First Buddhist Temple. Wien: Verlag
der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaf-
ten, 2005. 432 pp., CD-ROM. ISBN 3-7001-3495-
9. (Beiträge zur Kultur- und Geistesgeschichte Asi-
ens, 46)
Spickard, Paul (ed.): Race and Nation. Ethnie Systems
in the Modern World. New York: Routledge, 2005.
392 pp. ISBN 0-415-95003-1.
Stasik, Danuta, and Anna Trynkowska (eds.): India
in Warsaw. A Volume to Commemorate the 50th
Anniversary of the Post-War History of Indological
Studies at Warsaw University (2003/2004) - Indie
w Warszawie. Tom upamiçtniaj^cy 50-lecie powo-
jennej historii indologii na Uniwersytecie Warsza-
wskim (2003/2004). Warszawa; Dorn Wydawniczy
FLIPS A, 2006. 389 pp. ISBN 83-7151-721-1.
Stepan, Peter: Spirits Speak. A Celebration of African
Masks. Munich: Prestel, 2005. 185 pp., photos.
ISBN 3-7913-3228-7.
Strathern, Andrew, and Pamela J. Stewart: Empow-
ering the Past, Confronting the Future. The Duna
People of Papua New Guinea. New York: Palgrave
MacMillan, 2004. 190 pp. ISBN 1-4039-6491-2.
Strathern, Andrew, et al. (eds.): Terror and Violence.
Imagination and the Unimaginable. London: Pluto
Press, 2006. 250 pp. ISBN 0-7453-2398-7.
Strathern, Marilyn: Kinship, Law, and the Unexpect-
ed. Relatives Are Always a Surprise. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2005. 229 pp. ISBN
0-521-61509-7.
Strong, John S.: Relics of the Buddha. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 2004. 290 pp. ISBN
0-691-11764-0.
Sündermann, Katja: Spirituelle Heiler im modernen
Syrien. Berufsbild und Selbstverständnis - Wissen
und Praxis. Berlin: Verlag Hans Schiler, 2006.
517 pp. ISBN 3-89930-122-6.
Swanton, John R.: Chickasaw Society and Religion.
Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2006. 105
pp. ISBN 0-8032-9349-6.
Swigart, Roh: Xibalba Gate. A Novel of the Ancient
Maya. Walnut Creek: AltaMira Press, 2005. 305 pp.
ISBN 0-7591-0879-X.
Takem, John Tiku: Theatre and Environmental Edu-
cation in Cameroon. Bayreuth: Bayreuth Universi-
ty, 2005. 193 pp. ISBN 3-927510-92-0. (Bayreuth
African Studies, 76)
Taladoire, Éric, und Jean-Pierre Courau: Die Maya.
Darmstadt: Primus Verlag, 2005. 247 pp., Fotos.
ISBN 3-89678-278-9.
Taylor, Colin F., and Hugh A. Dempsey (eds.): The
People of the Buffalo. The Plains Indians of North
America. Essays in Honor of John C. Ewers; 2
vols. Vol. 1: Military Art, Warfare and Change;
vol. 2: The Silent Memorials. Artifacts as Cultural
and Historical Documents. Wyk auf Föhr: Tatanka
Press, 2003; 2005. 183 pp.; 253 pp. ISBN 3-89510-
101-X; 3-89510-102-8.
Thapan, Anita Raina (ed.): The Penguin Swami Chin-
mayananda Reader. New Dehli: Penguin Books,
2004. 278 pp. ISBN 0-670-05811-4.
Thomas, Deborah A.: Modem Blackness. National-
ism, Globalization, and the Politics of Culture in
Jamaica. Durham; Duke University Press, 2004.
357 pp. ISBN 0-8223-3419-4.
Toffin, Gérard : Ethnologie. La quête de T autre. Paris :
Éditions Acropole, 2005. 157 pp., ph. ISBN 2-
7357-0237-5.
Tong, Chee-Kiong: Chinese Death Rituals in Sin-
gapore. London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2004. 194 pp.
ISBN 0-700-70603-8.
Trefon, Theodore (ed.); Reinventing Order in the Con-
go. How People Respond to State Failure in Kin-
shasa. London: Zed Books; Kampala: Fountain
Publishers, 2004. 222 pp. ISBN 1-84277-490-5;
ISBN 9970-02-485-X.
Tripathy, Biyotkesh: Tribal Myths and Legends of
Orissa. The Story of Origins. Bhopal: Indira Gan-
dhi Rashtriya Manav Sangrahalaya, 2005. 292 pp.
ISBN 81-7702-100-1. (Intangible Cultural Heritage
of India, 1)
Tsing, Anna Lowenhaupt: Friction. An Ethnography of
Global Connection. Princeton; Princeton University
Press, 2005. 321 pp. ISBN 0-691-12065-X.
Ubrurhe, John Oroshejede: Urhobo Traditional Medi-
cine. Ibadan; Spectmm Books, 2003. 168 pp. ISBN
978-029-406-6.
Ulijaszek, Stanley J. (ed.): Population, Reproduction,
and Fertility in Melanesia. New York: Berghahn
Books, 2006. 243 pp. ISBN 1-57181-644-5. (Fer-
tility, Reproduction, and Sexuality, 8)
Urbina Rangel, Fernando: Dïijoma. El hombre, ser-
piente, águila. Mito uitoto de la Amazonia. Bogotá:
Convenio Andrés Bello, 2004. 118 pp., CD-ROM.
ISBN 958-698-133-9.
Vacher, Laurent-Michel : Une petit fin du monde.
Carnet devant la mort. Suivi de fragments autobio-
graphiques. Montréal : Liber, 2005. 197 pp. ISBN
2-89578-077-3.
van Koevering, Helen E. P.: Dancing Their Dreams.
The Lakeshore Nyanja Women of the Anglican
Diocese of Niassa. Zomba: Kachere Series, 2005.
180 pp. ISBN 99908-76-21-5. (Kachere Theses,
9)
Vaughan, Megan: Creating the Creole Island. Slavery
in Eighteenth-Century Mauritius. Durham: Duke
University Press, 2005. 341pp. ISBN 0-8223-
3399-6.
Verma, Meenakshie: Aftermath. An Oral History of Vi-
olence. New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2004. 178 pp.
ISBN 0-14-303215-1.
Anthropos 101.2006
Neue Publikationen
679
Yerma, Neelam: Traditions. A Complete Book of Arts
and Crafts Motifs. Special Reference to Rangoh
Design. Mumbai: English Edition Publishers, 2005.
138 pp., photos. ISBN 81-89066-86-2.
Villegas, Benjamin, and Santiago Londoño Vêlez
(eds.): Colombian Art, 3,500 Years of History.
Bogotá: Villegas Editores, 2001. 415 pp., photos.
ISBN 958-96982-7-1.
Vincenz, Susanne (ed.): Letters from Tentland. Looking
at Tents. Helena Waldmann’s Performance in Iran.
Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2005. 122 pp. ISBN
3-89942-405-0. (TanzScripte, 0)
Vogel, Martin: Die libysche Kulturdrift; Bd. 1: Die
Pelasger. Pferd und Wagen. Bonn: Orpheus-Verlag,
2005. 358 pp. ISBN 3-936626-04-9.
Wadley, Reed L. (ed.): Histories of the Borneo Environ-
ment. Economic, Political, and Social Dimensions
of Change and Continuity. Leiden: KITLV Press,
2005. 315 pp. ISBN 90-6718-254-0. (Verhandelin-
gen van het Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land-
en Volkenkunde, 231)
Wadley, Susan S.: Essays on North Indian Folk Tradi-
tions. New Delhi: Chronicle Books, 2005. 256 pp.
ISBN 81-8028-016-0.
Wallin, Georg August: Reisen in Arabien 1845-1848.
Hrsg. u. übers, von Uwe Pfullmann. Berlin: trafo
verlag, 2004. 181 pp. ISBN 3-89626-401-X.
Wedel, Carola: Nofretete und das Geheimnis von
Amama. Mainz: Verlag Philipp von Zabem, 2005.
96 pp., Fotos. ISBN 3-8053-3544-X.
Weinhäupl, Heide, und Margit Wolfsberger (Hrsg.):
Trauminseln? Tourismus und Alltag in “Urlaubspa-
radiesen”. Münster: Lit Verlag, 2006. 296 pp. ISBN
3-8258-8638-7.
Weller, Robert P.: Discovering Nature. Globalization
and Environmental Culture in China and Taiwan.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006.
189 pp. ISBN 0-521-54841-1.
Werner, Heinrich: Zur jenissejisch-indianischen Ur-
verwandtschaft. Wiesbaden; Harrassowitz Verlag,
2004. 185 pp. ISBN 3-447-04896-4.
Wettstein, Marion (Hrsg.): Jenseitswelten. Von Geis-
tern, Schiffen und Liebhabern. Zürich: Völkerkun-
demuseum der Universität Zürich, 2005. 80 pp.,
Fotos. ISBN 3-909105-47-5.
Wiegelmann, Günter: Alltags- und Festspeisen in Mit-
teleuropa. Innovationen, Strukturen und Regionen
vom späten Mittelalter bis zum 20. Jahrhundert.
2., erw. Aufl. Münster: Waxmann, 2006. 360 pp.
ISBN 3-8309-1468-7. (Münsteraner Schriften zur
Volkskunde: Europäische Ethnologie, 11)
Wiley, Kristi L.: Historical Dictionary of Jainism. Lan-
ham: The Scarecrow Press, 2004. 287 pp. ISBN 0-
8108-5051-6. (Historical Dictionaries of Religions,
Philosophies, and Movements, 53)
Wilkins, John M., and Shaun Hill: Food in the An-
cient World. Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2006.
300 pp. ISBN 0-631-23551-5.
Wilson, Thomas (ed.); Drinking Cultures. Alcohol
and Identity. Oxford: Berg, 2005. 281 pp. ISBN
1-85973-873-7.
Winn, Peter: Americas. The Changing Face of Latin
America and the Caribbean. 3rd ed. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2006. 689 pp. ISBN
0-520-24501-6.
Wolde-Selassie, Abbute: Gumuz and Highland Reset-
tlers. Differing Strategies of Livelihood and Eth-
nic Relations in Metekel, Northwestern Ethiopia.
Münster: Lit Verlag, 2004. 345 pp. ISBN 3-
8258-7819-8. (Göttinger Studien zur Ethnologie,
12)
Wolfart, H. C. (ed.) Papers of the Thirty-Sixth Algon-
quian Conference. Winnipeg: University of Mani-
toba, 2005. 471pp. ISSN 0831-5671. (Papers of
the Algonquian Conference, 36)
Woodiwiss, Anthony: Human Rights. London: Rout-
ledge, 2005. 174 pp. ISBN 0-415-36069-2.
Young, Douglas W.: “Our Land Is Green and Black.”
Conflict Resolution in Enga. Goroka: The Melane-
sian Institute, 2004. 318 pp. ISBN 9980-65-002-8.
(Point, 28)
Zafiropoulos, Markos : Lacan et les sciences sociales.
Le déclin du père (1938-1953). Paris: Presses
Universitaires de France, 2001. 257 pp. ISBN 2-
13-051460-X.
Zakariyya, Fouad: Myth and Reality in the Contem-
porary Islamist Movement. London: Pluto Press,
2005. 170 pp. ISBN 0-7453-2246-8.
“Zu Gast in Afrika.” Ein interkulturelles Pilotprojekt
für Kindergärten. Im Rahmen einer Kooperation
zwischen dem Überseemuseum Bremen und dem
Senator für Arbeit, Frauen, Gesundheit, Jugend und
Soziales, Bremen. Bremen: Überseemuseum, 2005.
67 pp. ISBN 3-88299-093-7.
Zupanov, Ines G.: Missionary Tropics. The Catholic
Frontier in India (16th-17th Centuries). Ann Ar-
bor: The University of Michigan Press, 2005.
374 pp. ISBN 0-472-11490-5.
Anthropos 101.2006
680
Reply
Reply to Schröder. - Peter Schroder’s review of my
book, “Brazil’s Indians and the Onslaught of Civiliza-
tion,” is unfair, insulting, and wrong in so many ways
that I cannot remain silent (Anthropos 101.2006:318-
319).
First he accuses me of not consulting important
specialists on the Kayapö such as Gustaaf Verswijver
and William Fisher, whose names and works I cited
in the book’s bibliography. He says I consulted “few
sources,” but the 18-page bibliography lists hundreds
of sources, so I can only conclude he didn’t read it.
Taking single sentences out of context, he claims my
chapter-long interpretations and analyses are “simplistic,
schematic, and superficial.” I would use exactly those
words to characterize his objections.
He castigates me for “serious” factual errors but
makes numerous errors himself. The Villas Boas broth-
ers did establish the Xingu Indigenous Park, as their
book, “A Marcha para o Oeste” (listed in the bibliogra-
phy), and many other reliable sources have amply doc-
umented. Indeed, they are nationally and internationally
renowned for this achievement. They set up the Xingu
Park to protect 17 different indigenous groups, some
of whom, such as the Panarä, the Villas Boas brothers
resettled there under Brazilian government auspices.
Despite what Mr. Schröder says, private individu-
als can effectively overturn indigenous demarcations
by obtaining an injunction from a federal judge, even
when the president has signed the demarcation order.
According to Amnesty International, this is exactly what
happened to the Guarani of Nanderu Marangatu, Mato
Grosso do Sul, in December 2005, when federal po-
lice evicted them from their demarcated territory nine
months after President Lula da Silva signed the demar-
cation. As of April 2006 the Guarani were still camped
by the side of the highway, asking for international help
to return to their land. I urge Mr. Schröder and other
anthropologists to write to the Brazilian government
about the plight of the Guarani and other endangered
indigenous groups. (For more information and address-
es of Brazilian authorities, see Amnesty International’s
Urgent Action Appeal 178/05 of 16 December 2005.)
Unfortunately, demarcation does not guarantee ex-
clusive use and control of indigenous land to indigenous
people. The Brazilian Constitution does not give them
full control over products extracted from underground,
such as gold, diamonds, and other minerals. That is why
I used the word “preferential” to describe the legal extent
of their land rights. Mr. Schröder should read articles
about the complexities of demarcation law in “Povos
Indigenas no Brasil, 1996-2000” (Ricardo 2000), also
cited in my bibliography. But the sad fact is that where
the rule of law is precarious, decrees and constitutional
provisions have little positive effect on the difficult
reality that Brazil’s indigenous peoples must confront
every day.
Some of Mr. Schroder’s more intemperate criticisms
seem based on his misinterpretations of English lan-
guage usage. For example, he says, “Important spe-
cialists about the Xucuru and Pataxö Hä-Hä-Häe are
ignored so that Rabben could declare that ‘a few years
ago, they were said to be extinct’ ... On the contrary,
the Xucuru never were declared extinct...” In English,
“said” and “declared” do not always mean the same
thing, and native speakers understand the difference
between these two words. In this context, “said to be”
means the Xucuru were reputed to be extinct, not that
the government officially declared them extinct.
I learned about the Northeastern indigenous groups
by visiting and talking to them and by consulting
Brazilian and other specialists (cited in the bibliography)
who apparently do not agree with Mr. Schröder. There
is plenty of room for debate on many issues in the book,
and disagreement with his opinions does not mean that
my interpretations or analyses are wrong.
Mr. Schröder does not seem to understand that the
statement, “The Xucuru people of Northeastern Brazil
have come back from the dead,” is figurative, not “a kind
of funny irony.” His imperfect command of English is
also evident in various awkward phrases and sentences
in the review, but I will refrain from embarrassing him
by pointing out his linguistic errors. Thus, I am treating
Mr. Schröder much more kindly, civilly, and collegially
than he treated me.
Finally, Mr. Schröder ends his review with a pa-
tronizing characterization of the book as a “good in-
troduction ... for laypersons and for some undergrad-
uate lessons” and slightingly calls my work bonitinho.
(Brazilians might call his tone chato, grosso, or mal-
educado.) The entire review is suffused with very
unattractive academic snobbery.
I purposely wrote the book for a broad audience of
laypeople, students, scholars, and activists, and the first
edition sold out as a result of being widely assigned to
undergraduate and postgraduate courses in the United
States and other countries. A young activist told me
she had decided to work professionally on indigenous
issues after reading “Brazil’s Indians and the Onslaught
of Civilization.” To me, her response is much more
significant than Mr. Schroder’s ill-considered diatribe.
Might he be envious of the book’s success?
Linda Rabben
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
Africa (Manchester)
75. 2005/4
Petit, P., G. Mulumbwa Mutambwa, “La crise:” Lex-
icon and Ethos of the Second Economy in Lubum-
bashi (407-487). - Stroeken, K., Immunizing Strate-
gies: Hip-Hop and Critique in Tanzania (488-509). -
Pringle, R., The Nile Perch in Lake Victoria: Local
Responses and Adaptations (510-538). - Carrier, N.,
The Need for Speed. Contrasting Timeframes in the
Social Life of Kenyan Miraa (539-558). - Lobnibe, L,
Forbidden Fruit in the Compound: A Case Study of Mi-
gration, Spousal Separation, and Group-Wife Adultery
in Northwest Ghana (559-581). - Stiles, E., “There Is
No Stranger to Marriage Here!” Muslim Women and
Divorce in Rural Zanzibar (582-598).
76. 2006/1
Pitcher, M. A., K. M. Askew, African Socialisms and
Postsocialisms (1-14). - Askew, K. M., Sung and Un-
sung. Musical Reflections on Tanzanian Postsocialisms
(15-43). - Eaton, D., Diagnosing the Crisis in the
Republic of Congo (44-69). - Watson, E. E., Making a
Living in the Postsocialist Periphery: Struggles between
Farmers and Traders in Konso, Ethiopia (70-87).
African Affairs (Oxford)
104. 2005/417
Richards, P., To Fight or to Farm? Agrarian Dimen-
sions of the Mano River Conflicts [Liberia and Sierra
Leone] (571-590). - Butler, A., South Africa’s HIV/
AIDS Policy, 1994-2004: How Can It Be Explained?
(591-614). - Ballard, R., A. Habib, I. Valodia,
E. Zuern, Globalization, Marginalization, and Contem-
porary Social Movements in South Africa (615-634). -
Touray, O. A., The Common African Defence and Se-
curity Policy (635-656).
African Arts (Los Angeles)
38. 2005/2
Plankensteiner, B., African Art at the Museum für
Völkerkunde in Vienna (12-37). - Boram-Hays, C.,
Borders of Beads. Questions of Identity in the Beadwork
of the Zulu-Speaking People (38-49). - Petridis, C.,
Bwadi bwa Chikwanga. A Ram Mask of the Bakwa
Luntu (50-59). - Nicklin, K., J. Salmona, Hippies
of Elmina (60-65). - Nevadomsky, J., Casting in
Contemporary Benin Art (66-77).
38. 2005/3
Schmahmann, B., Stitches as Sutures. Trauma and Re-
covery in Works by Women in the Mapula Embroidery
Project (52-65). - Kasfir, S. L., Narrating Trauma as
Modernity. Kenyan Artists and the American Embassy
Bombing (66-77).
38. 2005/4
Vogel, S., Whither African Art? Emerging Scholar-
ship at the End of an Age (12-17). - Bird, R., The
Merina Landscape in Early Nineteenth Century High-
lands Madagascar (18-23). - Doris, D. T., Symptoms
and Strangeness in Yorùba Anti-Aesthetics (24-31). -
Förster, T., Layers of Awareness. Intermediality and
Practices of Visual Arts in Northern Côte d’Ivoire (32-
37). - Bentor, E., Challenges to Rural Festivals with the
Return to Democratic Rule in Southeastern Nigeria (38-
45). - Richards, P., Masques Dogons in a Changing
World (48-53). - Visonà, M. B., Redefining Twentieth
Century African Art. The View from the Lagoons of
Côte d’Ivoire (46-53). - Ogbechie, S. O., The His-
torical Life of Objects. African Art History and the
Problem of Discursive Obsolescence (62-70). - Peffer,
J., Notes on African Art, History, and Diasporas Within
(70-77).
Afrika und Übersee (Berlin)
86. 2005/2
Ahmad, S. B., From Orality to Mass Media: Hausa
Literature in Northern Nigeria (223-234). - Musa,
D. E., Theatre and Religion: Kyen Eku as Performance
and Ritual among the Eggon (235-248). - Ogunbote,
O. O., The Place of Oriki in Yoruba Oral Poetry (249-
265).
African and Asian Studies (Leiden)
4. 2005/4
Nafziger, E. W., Meiji Japan as a Model for Africa
(443-464). - Morikawa, J., Japan and Africa after
the Cold War (485-508). - Felleke, G., Education
Anthropos 101.2006
682
Zeitschriftenschau
and Modernization; An Examination of the Experiences
of Japan and Ethiopia (509-546). - Adem, S., Is
Japan’s Cultural Experience Relevant for Africa’s De-
velopment? (629-664).
Afrique contemporaine (Paris)
215. 2005/3
Lasseur, M., Cameroun: Les nouveaux territoires de
Dieu (93-116).
Almogaren (Hallein)
36. 2005
Owens, L. S., Through a Glass Darkly: Illuminating the
Conflict between Historical and Archaeological Inter-
pretations of Ancient Populations of the Canary Islands
(191-203). - Sarmiento Péréz, M., Referencias al
turismo alemán de salud en la bibliografía alemana sobre
Canarias en el siglo XIX (259-284).
American Anthropologist (Washington)
107. 2005/4
Cobb, C. R., Archaeology and the “Savage Slot:” Dis-
placement and Emplacement in the Premodern World
(563-574). - Boellstorff, T., Between Religion and
Desire: Being Muslim and Gay in Indonesia (575-
585). - Blackburn, C., Searching for Guarantees in the
Midst of Uncertainty: Negotiating Aboriginal Rights and
Title in British Columbia (586-596). - Fassin, D., E.
d’Halluin, The Truth from the Body: Medical Certifi-
cation as Ultimate Evidence for Asylum Seekers (597-
608). - Ember, C. R., M. Ember, Explaining Cor-
poral Punishment of Children: A Cross-Cultural Study
(609-619). - Chernela, J., The Politics of Mediation;
Local-Global Interactions in the Central Amazon of
Brazil (620-631). - West, P., Translation, Value, and
Space: Theorizing an Ethnographic and Engaged En-
vironmental Anthropology (632-642). - Jacka, J. K.,
Emplacement and Millennial Expectations in an Era of
Development and Globalization; Heaven and the Ap-
peal of Christianity for the Ipili (643-653). - Walsh,
A., The Obvious Aspects of Ecological Underprivi-
lege in Ankarana, Northern Madagascar (654-665). -
Waguespack, M. N., The Organization of Male and
Female Labor in Foraging Societies. Implications for
Early Paleoindian Archaeology (666-676).
108. 2006/1
Cowan, J. K., Culture and Rights after Culture and
Rights (9-24). - Goodale, M., Ethical Theory as
Social Practice (25-37). - Merry, S. E., Transnational
Human Rights and Local Activism: Mapping the Middle
(38-51). - Riles, A., Anthropology, Human Rights,
and Legal Knowledge: Culture in the Iron Cage (52-
65). - Speed, S., At the Crossroads of Human Rights
and Anthropology: Toward a Critically Engaged Activist
Research (66-76). - Meskell, L., L. Weiss, Coetzee
on South Africa’s Past: Remembering in the Time of
Forgetting (88-99). - Andriolo, K., The Twice-Killed;
Imagining Protest Suicide (100-113). - Caton, S. C.,
Coetzee, Agamben, and the Passion of Abu Ghraib
(114-123). - Fuentes, A., The Humanity of Animals
and the Animality of Humans: A View from Biolog-
ical Anthropology Inspired by J. M. Coetzee’s Eliza-
beth Costello (124-132). - Levy, J. E., Prehistory,
Identity, and Archaeological Representation in Nordic
Museums (135-147). - Colwell-Chanthaphonh, C.,
T. J. Ferguson, Memory Pieces and Footprints: Multi-
vocality and the Meanings of Ancient Times and An-
cestral Places among the Zuni and Hopi (148-162). -
Brickley, M., M. Smith, Culturally Determined Patterns
of Violence: Biological Anthropological Investigations
at a Historic Urban Cemetery (163-177). - Rylko-
Bauer, В., M. Singer, J. van Willigen, Reclaiming
Applied Anthropology; Its Past, Present, and Future
(178-190). - Gregory, S., Transnational Storytelling:
Human Rights, WITNESS, and Video Advocacy (195 —
204). - Avni, R., Mobilizing Hope: Beyond the Shame-
Based Model in the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict (205-
214). - Torchin, L., Ravished Armenia: Visual Media,
Humanitarian Advocacy, and the Formation of Witness-
ing Publics (214-220).
American Ethnologist (Washington)
32. 2005/4
Bunzl, M., Between Anti-Semitism and Islamophobia:
Some Thoughts on the New Europe (499-508). -
Ozyiirek, E., The Politics of Cultural Unification, Secu-
larism, and the Place of Islam in the New Europe (509-
512). - Gingrich, A., Anthropological Analyses of Is-
lamophobia and Anti-Semitism in Europe (513-515). -
Boyarin, J., Discerning the Ghosts and the Interest of
the Living (516-518). - Brodkin, K., Xenophobia, the
State, and Capitalism (519-520).
33. 2006/1
Redfield, P., A Less Modest Witness: Collective Ad-
vocacy and Motivated Truth in a Medical Humanitar-
ian Movement (3-26). - Ticktin, M., Where Ethics
and Politics Meet: The Violence of Humanitarianism
in France (33-49). - Koch, E., Beyond Suspicion:
Evidence, (Un)Certainty, and Tuberculosis in Georgian
Prisons (50-62). - Moodie, E., Microbus Crashes and
Coca-Cola Cash: The Value of Death in “Free-Market”
El Salvador (63-80). - Kaufmann, S. R., A.J. Russ,
J. K. Shim, Aged Bodies and Kinship Matters; The
Ethical Field of Kidney Transplant (81-99). - Bragge,
L., U. Class, P. Roscoe, On the Edge of Empire; Mil-
itary Brokers in the Sepik “Tribal Zone” (100-113). -
Feinberg, R., Early European-Polynesian Contact Reen-
acted: Anutan “Handling” of a Foreign Fishing Vessel
(114-125).
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
683
L’Année sociologique (Paris)
55. 2005/2
Orléan, A., La sociologie économique et la question
de l’unité des sciences sociales (279-305). - Saint-
Jean, I. T., Peut-on définir la sociologie économique ?
(307-326). - Convert, B., J. Heilbron, La réinvention
américaine de la sociologie économique (329-364). -
Swedberg, R., Towards an Economie Sociology of
Capitalism (419-449). - Falconi, A. M., K. Guenfoud,
E. Lazega, C. Lemercier, L. Mounier, Le contrôle
social du monde des affaires : Une étude institutionnelle
(451-483). - Lavaud, J.-P., F. Lestage, Compter les
Indiens [Bolivie, Mexique, Etats-Unis] (487-517).
56. 2006/1
Gonthier, F., Relativisme et vérité scientifiques chez
Max Weber (15-39). - Keucheyan, R., Les commu-
nautés de fans de Matrix sur Internet : Une étude de
sociologie de la connaissance (41-66). - Letonturier,
E., Jeu, réseau et civilisation. Métaphores et conceptua-
lisation chez Norbert Élias (67-82). - Marcel, J.-C.,
L. Mucchielli, André Davidovitch (1912-1986) et le
deuxième âge de la sociologie criminelle française
(83-117). - Rios, D., La politique de la divergence.
Quelques remarques sur le relativisme (119-136). -
Roi, C., “Sur la psychologie sociale de l’hostilité” ou
la dernière apparition de Georg Simmel sur la scène
sociologique française (137-175). - Saquer, L., “La
monade et l’œuvre d’art.” La contribution de Gabriel
Tarde au domaine artistique (177-200). - Tremblay,
P., M. Bouchard, C. Leclerc, La courbe de gravité des
crimes (201-227).
Annual Review of Anthropology
(Palo Alto)
34. 2005
Turner Strong, P., Recent Ethnographic Research
on North American Indigenous Peoples (253-315). -
Kaufman, S. R., L. M. Morgan, The Anthropology of
the Beginnings and Ends of Life (317-361). - Ceup-
pens, B., P. Geschiere, Autochthony: Local or Global?
New Modes in the Struggle over Citizenship and Be-
longing in Africa and Europe (385-407). - Mullings,
L., Interrogating Racism; Toward an Antiracist Anthro-
pology (667-693). - Pena, G. de la, Social and Cul-
tural Policies Toward Indigenous Peoples: Perspectives
from Latin America (717-739).
Anthropological Theory (London)
5. 2005/4
Graeber, D., Fetishism as Social Creativity: Or, Fetish-
es Are Gods in the Process of Construction (407-
438). - Click Schiller, N., Transnational Social Fields
and Imperialism: Bringing a Theory of Power to
Transnational Studies (439-461). - Hage, G., A Not
So Multi-Sited Ethnography of a Not So Imagined Com-
munity (463-475). - Quinn, N., Universals of Child
Rearing (477-515). - Chun, A., Writing Theory: Steps
toward an Ecology of Practice (517-543).
6. 2006/1
Searle, J. R., Social Ontology: Some Basic Principles
(12-29).
Anthropologie et Sociétés (Québec)
29. 2005/2
Leavitt, J., Structuralisms and Myths (45-68). -
Moisseeff, M., Procreation in Contemporary Mythol-
ogy: A Matter of Science Fiction (69-94). - Pons,
C., The “Heedful Partnership” of Icelandic Cosmology.
Dead Part in Genomic and Spiritualist Events (131 —
149). - Gaucher, C., The Deaf: A Symbolic Example
of Identitary Tensions (151-167). - Ortar, N., The
Multiple Uses of the Allotments Dacha in Russia (169—
185).
29. 2005/3
Lemay, J.-F., Anti-Globalization Movements and the
Collective Identity of Organizations. The Tribulations of
a Fair Trade Association (39-58). - Beauzamy, B., In-
tegrating Feminist Movements in the Anti-Globalization
Sphere at What Cost? (59-76). - Deléage, E., Peasants
Movements in Alterglobalization. The Case of Sustain-
able Agriculture in France (77-95). - Hardtmann,
E.-M., Indian Dalits Are Suddenly Everywhere! Cre-
ating New Alternative Global Networks (97-122). -
Fall, A. S., Multidimensional Governance and the Trans-
formation of Relations between the State and Citizen
Movements in Central and Western Africa (123-138). -
Eysermann, B., In Search of the Homeless Person:
The “SDF” Social Construction by Volunteers Involved
in Nocturnal Charitable Activities in Marseille (167—
183). - Saidi, H., We Are Re-Tuming: “Threat-Reality”
and “Re-Tourism” in Tunisia (185-206). - Vonarx, N.,
Voodoo: The Role of the Anthropological Terrain in the
Production of Knowledge [Research Note] (207-221).
Anthropologischer Anzeiger (Genève)
64. 2006/1
Grandies, P., S. Kirchengast, Gibt es Geschlechtsun-
terschiede in der Prävalenz von Übergewicht und Adi-
positas bei Volks Schulkindern aus Ostösterreich? (67-
81). - Ghosh, A., D. Chatterjee, A. R. Bandyopad-
hyay, A. B. Das Chaudhuri, Age and Sex Variation of
Body Mass Index and Waist Circumference among the
Santal Children of Jharkhand, India (83-89).
Anthropos 101.2006
684
Zeitschriftenschau
Anthropology Southern Africa
(Boordfontein)
28. 2005/3-4
Henderson, P. C., Mortality and the Ethics of Qualita-
tive Research in a Context of HIV/AIDS (78-90). -
Green, L. J. F., “Ba pi ai?” - Rethinking the Relation-
ship between Secularism and Professionalism in Anthro-
pological Fieldwork (91-98). - Ross, F. C., Codes and
Dignity: Thinking about Ethics in Relation to Research
on Violence (99-107). - Macdonald, H. M., A Voice
in Control? Narratives of Accused Witches in Chhattis-
garh, India (108-114). - Mkhwanazi, N., Reflections
on the Ethical Dilemmas that Arise for Anthropologists
Conducting Fieldwork on the Provision of Sexuality
Education in South Africa (115-122). - Becker, H.,
E. Boonzaler, J. Owen, Fieldwork in Shared Spaces:
Positionality, Power, and Ethics of Citizen Anthropolo-
gists in Southern Africa (123-132).
Anthropology Today (London)
22. 2006/1
Hart, J., Saving Children: What Role for Anthropology
(5-8). - Comaroff, J., J. L. Comaroff, Portraits by
the Ethnographer as a Young Man: The Photography of
Isaac Schapera in “Old Botswana” (9-16). - Van der
Vaal, C. S., V. Ward, Shifting Paradigms in the New
South Africa: Anthropology after the Merger of Two
Disciplinary Associations (17-20).
Archipel (Paris)
70. 2005
Somers Heidhues, M., An Early Traveler’s Compendi-
um: Caspar Schmalkalden’s Images of Asia (145—
184). - Feener, R. M., M. F. Laffan, Sufi Scents
Across the Indian Ocean: Yemeni Hagiography and the
Earliest History of Southeast Asian Islam (185-208). -
Alam, M., S. Subfrahmanyam, Southeast Asia as Seen
from Mughal India: Tahir Muhammad’s “Immaculate
Garden” [ca. 1600] (209-237).
Archives de sciences sociales des religions
(Paris)
50. 2005/131-132
Schnapper, D., Renouveau ethnique et renouveau reli-
gieux dans les “démocraties providentielles” (9-26). -
Zins, M.-J., Rites publics et deuil patriotique en Inde :
Les funérailles de la guerre indo-pakistanaise de 1999
(63-86). - Petit, A., Des funérailles de l’entre-deux.
Rituels funéraires des migrants Manjak en France (87-
99). - Bacuez, P., Devenirs musulmans à Zanzibar
ou l’étrangeté de la conversion (101-121). - Fer,
Y., Genèse des émotions au sein des Assemblées de
Dieu polynésiennes (143-163). - Altglas, V., “Les
mots brûlent :” Sociologie des Nouveaux Mouvements
Religieux et déontologie (165-188). - Lehmann, D.,
The Cognitive Approach to Understanding Religion
(199-213).
51. 2006/133
Palard, J., Médiation et institution catholique (9-26). -
Béraud, C., Prêtres de la génération Jean-Paul II : Re-
composition de l’idéal sacerdotal et accomplissement de
soi (45-68). - Bremond d’Ars, N. de, Les catholiques
et l’argent. Une approche de la paroisse par ses finances
(67-92). - Bobineau, O., Sociabilité et socialisation
paroissiales: Une comparaison franco-allemande (93-
113). - Turina, I., Vers un catholicisme “exemplaire ?”
(115-133). - Corten, A., Un religieux immanent et
transnational (135-151).
Archivos (Buenos Aires)
11. 2004/2
Cordeu, E. J., Miedo y mal en la mitología de los
Chamacoco (ishír) del chaco boreal (7-50). - Dasso,
M. C., C. Rinaldi, La noción de mal y el temor ayoréi
(51-76). - Córdoba, L. I., Los peligros del nacer: Una
aproximación a lo temible desde el ciclo vital de los
Chacobo (77-88). - Califano, M., J. A. Gonzalo,
La configuración del daño entre les Harákmbet [Perú]
(89-113). - Regan, J., Perspectivismo y género en
dos ritos Ashaninkas (115-122). - Palmer, J. H.,
The Political Economy of Jivaroan Scalping (123—
159). - Rivas Ruis, R., La pesca en dos pueblos de
ríos andino-amazónicos: Ashaninka y Yanesha (161 —
179). - Domingos Lins, F. A., Demonopatias, neurose
demoníaca e sugestáo em religióes sincréticas no Brasil
e no Caribe (181-188).
Arctic Anthropology (Madison)
42. 2005/2
Giles, A. R., A Foucaultian Approach to Menstrual
Practices in the Dehcho Region, Northwest Territories,
Canada (9-21). - Kang, B. W., An Examination of an
Intermediate Sociopolitical Evolutionary Type between
Chiefdom and State (22-35). - Schneider, W., K.
Kielland, G. Finstad, Factors in the Adaptation of
Reindeer Herders to Caribou on the Seward Peninsula,
Alaska (36-49). - CoIIings, P., Housing Policy, Aging,
and Life Course Construction in a Canadian Inuit
Community (50-65). - Stern, P., Wage Labor, Housing
Policy, and the Nucleation of Inuit Households (60-
81). - Wilson, E., Gender, Nationalism, Citizenship,
and Nunavut’s Territorial “House:” A Case Study of the
Gender Parity Proposal Debate (82-94).
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
685
The Artefact (Melbourne)
28. 2005
Hayes, S., Yorktown: The Cultural Landscape of the
First European Settlement in the North of Tasmania
(4-14). - Davies, P., A. Ellis, The Archaeology of
Childhood: Toys from Henry’s Mill (15-22).
Asian Folklore Studies (Nagoya)
64. 2005/2
Altenburger, R., Is It Clothes that Make the Man?
Cross-Dressing, Gender, Sex in Pre-Twentieth Century
Zhu Yingtai Lore (165-205). - Reider, N. T., Shuten
Doji: “Drunken Demon” (207-231). - Leete, A., Reli-
gious Revival as Reaction to Hegemonization of Power
in Siberia in the 1920 to 1940 s (233-245). - Öztürk-
men, A., Staging a Ritual Dance Out of Its Context: The
Role of an Individual Artist in Transforming the Alevi
Semah (247-260). - Onon, S., A Shaman’s Ritual
Songs (279-286).
Asiatische Studien - Études Asiatiques
(Bern)
59. 2005/3
Meier, D., La citoyenneté au Liban: Le cas des mariages
libano-palestiniens (815-830).
Australian Aboriginal Studies (Canberra)
2005/1
McCarron-Benson, A. A., Native Title Archaeology: A
Synopsis of the Role of Archaeology in Litigated Native
Title Determinations in Australia (66-73). - Godwin,
L., “Everyday Archaeology:” Archaeological Heritage
Management and Its Relationship to Native Title in
Development-Related Processes (74-83).
The Australian Journal of Anthropology
(Sydney)
16. 2005/2
Mulcock, J., C. Pocock, Y. Toussaint, Introduction:
Current Directions in Australian Anthropologies of the
Environment (281-293). - Rose, D., An Indigenous
Philosophical Ecology: Situating the Human (294-
305). - Trigger, D., J. Mulcock, Forests as Spirituality
Significant Places: Nature, Culture, and “Belonging” in
Australia (306-320). - Peace, A., Managing the Myth
of Ecotourism; A Queensland Case Study (321-334). -
Pocock, C., “Blue Lagoons and Coconut Palms:” The
Creation of a Tropical Idyll in Australia (335-349). -
King, T. J., Crisis of Meanings: Divergent Experiences
and Perceptions of the Marine Environment in Victo-
ria, Australia (350-365). - Strang, V., Water Works;
Agency and Creativity in the Mitchell River Catchment
(366-381). - Toussaint, Y., Debating Biodiversity:
Threatened Species Conservation and Scientific Values
(382-393).
17. 2006/1
Lattas, A., Technologies of Visibility: The Utopian
Politics of Cameras, Televisions, Videos, and Dreams
in New Britain (15-31). - Nyiri, P., The Nation-State,
Public Education, and the Logic of Migration: Chinese
Students in Hungary (32-46). - Rumsey, A., The
Articulation of Indigenous and Exogenous Orders in
Highland New Guinea and Beyond (47-69).
Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en
Volkenkunde (Dordrecht)
161. 2005/4
Niehof, A., R. Jordaan, A. Santoso, Technological and
Social Change in a Madurese Fishing Village [1978—
2004] (397-432). - Barnard, T. P., Sedih sampai buta.
Blindness, Modernity, and Tradition in Malay Films
of the 1950 s and 1960 s (433-453). - Roth, D.,
Lebensraum in Luwu. Emergent Identity, Migration, and
Access to Land (485-516).
162. 2006/1
Maier, H., Explosions in Semarang (1-34). - Ricklefs,
M. C., The Birth of the abangan (35-55). - Retsikas,
K., The Semiotics of Violence. Ninja, Sorcerers, and
State Terror in Post-Soeharto Indonesia (56-94).
Bulletin des Séances (Bruxelles)
50. 2004/3
Bouvier, P., Partnership: A New Paradigm of Devel-
opment Cooperation or a Mere Semantic Reconver-
sion? Introductory Remarks (251-259). - Wolanski,
E., The Serengeti. An Example of Successful Devel-
opment through Conservation Made Possible by North-
South Partnership (261-269). - Portaels, F., A Part-
nership with African Countries for a More Efficient
Council of Tuberculosis and the Burnii Ulcer (271 —
282). - Lenaerts, R., Partnership: A New Paradigm
of Development Cooperation or a Mere Semantic Re-
conversion. Pragmatic Approach of the Theme (283-
306). - Lemarchand, R., Mythology and Political Vi-
olence (309-317).
50. 2004/4
Lame, D. de, Altered and Alternate Generations. Com-
plicities for a Human Development (403-411). -
Goyens, P., Medecin - L’art de guérir: Lessons from
the South (413-422). - Droesbeke, J.-J., An Evolu-
tional Statistical Issue: Cutting Life into Slices (423-
435).
Anthropos 101.2006
686
Zeitschriftenschau
Bulletin of the School of Oriental and
African Studies (London)
68. 2005/3
Finkin, J., Enantiodrama; Enantiosemia in Arabic and
Beyond (369-386). - Crone, P., How Did the Quranic
Pagans Make a Living? (387-399). - Cuffel, A., From
Practice to Polemic: Shared Saints and Festivals as
“Women’s Religion” in the Medieval Mediterranean
(401-419). - Barrett, T. H., Was There an Imperial
Distribution of Buddha Relics in Ninth-Century China?
(451-454). - Barrett, T. H., Religion and the First
Recorded Print Run: Luoyang July, 855 (455-461).
Bullettino di Paletnologia Italiana (Roma)
93-95. 2002-2003
Palma di Cesnola, A., Variazioni nel tempo et nello
spazio dei riti funerari del Paleolitico superiore italiano
(1-17). - Fugazzola Delfino, M. A., V. Tiné, Le sta-
tuine fittili femminili del Neolitico italiano. Iconografia
e contesto culturale (19-51).
Cahiers d’Études Africaines (Paris)
45. 2005/179-180
Arditi, C., Les “enfants bouviers” du sud du Tchad,
nouveaux esclaves ou apprentis éleveurs ? (713-729). -
Deshusses, M., Du confiage à l’esclavage : “Petites
bonnes” ivoiriennes en France (731-750). - Bullard,
A., From Colonization to Globalization: The Vicissi-
tudes of Slavery in Mauritania (751-769). - Boyer,
F., L’esclavage chez les Touaregs de Bankilaré au mi-
roir des migrations circulaires (771-803). - Giuffri-
da, A., Métamorphoses des relations de dépendance
chez les Kel Antessar du cercle de Goundam (805-
829). - Razafindralando, L. N., Inégalité, exclusion,
représentations sur les Hautes Terres centrales de Ma-
dagascar (879-903). - Blanchy, S., Esclavage et com-
mensalité à Ngazdja, Comores (905-933). - Mrad
Dali, I., De l’esclavage à la servitude. Le cas des Noirs
de Tunisie (935-953). - McDougall, E. A., Living
the Legacy of Slavery : Between Discourse and Rea-
lity. - Leservoisier, O., “Nous voulons notre part!”
Les ambivalences du mouvement d’émancipation des
Saafaalbe Hormankoobe de Djéol [Mauritanie] (987-
1014). - Morice, A., “Comme des esclave,” ou les
avatars de l’esclavage métaphorique (1015-1036). -
Viti, F., Travailler pour rien. L’apprentissage en Côte
d’ivoire urbaine [Abidjan, Toumodi] (1037-1067). -
Moulier Boutang, Y., Formes de travail non libre. “Ac-
cumulation primitive : Préhistoire ou histoire continuée
du capitalisme?” (1069-1092). - Moujoud, N., D.
Pourette, “Traite” de femmes migrantes, domesticité et
prostitution. A propos de migrations interne et externe
(1093-1121). - Vergés, F., Les troubles de la mémoire.
Traite négrière, esclavage et écriture de l’histoire (1143 —
1178).
46. 2006/181
Sègla, A., A. E. Boko, De la cosmologie à la rationa-
lisation de la vie sociale. Ces mots idààcha qui parlent
ou la mémoire d’un type de calendrier yoruba ancien
(11-50). - Niehaus, L, Biographical Lessons. Life Sto-
ries, Sex, and Culture in Bushbuckridge, South Africa
(51-73). - Abega, S. C., E. K. Magne, Le premier
rapport sexuel chez les jeunes filles à Yaoundé (75-
93). - Riccio, B., “Transmigrants” mais pas “nomades.”
Transnationalisme mouride en Italie (95-114). - Yen-
shu Vubo, E., Management of Ethnie Diversity in
Cameroon against the Backdrop of Social Crises (135 —
156).
Cahiers de Littérature orale (Paris)
56. 2004
Privât, J.-M., Si l’oralité m’était contée (23-52). -
Goody, J., The Folktale and Cultural History (53-66).
Cambridge Anthropology (Cambridge)
25. 2005/2
Hastrup, K., Performing the World Agency, Anticipa-
tion, and Creativity (5-19). - Hughes-Freeland, F.,
“Tradition and the Individual Talent:” T. S. Eliot for
Anthropologists (20-35). - Hendry, J., Creativity as
Evidence of Having Persisted through Time (36-49). -
Degnen, C., Temporality, Narrative, and the Ageing Self
(50-63). - Corsín Jiménez, A., After Trust (64-78). -
Grasseni, C., Slow Food, Fast Genes. Timescapes of
Authenticity and Innovation in the Anthropology of
Food (79-94). - Eriksen, T. H., New Work, Flexibili-
ty, and the Cult of Creativity (95-107).
Canadian Journal of African Studies
(Toronto)
39. 2005/1
Bellagamba, A., Slavery and Emancipation in the
Colonial Archives: British Officials, Slave-Owners, and
Slaves in the Protectorate of the Gambia [1890-1936]
(5-41). - Lecocq, B., The Bellah Question: Slave
Emancipation, Race, and Social Categories in Late
Twentieth-Century Northern Mali (42-68). - Bruijn,
M. de, L. Pelckmans, Facing Dilemmas: Former Fulbe
Slaves in Modern Mali (69-95). - Curto, J. C., Strug-
gling against Enslavement: The Case of José Manuel in
Benguela, 1816-20 (96-122).
39. 2005/2
Evans, M., Insecurity or Isolation? Natural Resources
and Livelihoods in Lower Casamance (282-312). -
Mam, J.-C., Les racines mondiales du particularisme
casamançais (323-337). - Toliver-Diallo, W. J., “The
Woman Who Was More Than a Man:” Making Aline
Shoe Diatta into a National Heroine in Senegal (338 —
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
687
360). - Foucher, V., La guerre des dieux? Religions et
séparatisme en Basse Casamance (361-388). - Jong,
F. de, A Joking Nation; Conflict Resolution in Senegal
(389-413). - Tomàs, J., “La parole de paix n’a jamais
tort.” La paix et la tradition dans le royaume d’Oussouye
[Casamance, Sénégal] (414-441).
39. 2005/3
Lombardo, A. P., R. E. Howard-Hassmann, Africans
on Reparations: An Analysis of Elite and Activist
Opinion (517-548).
Catalyst (Port Moresby)
36. 2006/1
Gibbs, P., Limited Preferential Voting and Enga Polit-
ical Culture (3-25). - Fey, W., Traditions of Conflict
Resolution in Papua New Guinea and in Australia (48-
80).
China heute (Sankt Augustin)
24. 2005/6
Qiongxin, Z., Die konstitutionelle Bedeutung religiöser
Ethik in Ost und West (234-241).
Comparative Civilizations Review
(Scranton)
53. 2005
Enzmann, R. D., D. T. Burgy, Reading Europe’s Pa-
leolithic Writing (11-33). - Thompson, J., Cultural
Relativism or Covert Universalism? The Metaethics of
Multiculturalism (34-51). - O’Brien, P., Europe: A
Civilization on the Edge (52-85).
54. 2006
Kecsces, C. S., Extrapolating the Trends of the Most
Significant Patterns of World History (28-52). - Pâles,
E., M. Mikulecky, Periodic Emergence of Great Histo-
rians in the History of Ancient Greece, Rome, and China
(53-63).
Comparative Sociology (Leiden)
4. 2005/3-4
Weakliem, D. L., R. Andersen, A. F. Heath, By Pop-
ular Demand: The Effect of Public Opinion on Income
Inequality (261-284). - Bussmann, M., I. de Soysa,
J. R. Oneal, The Effect of Globalisation on National
Income Inequality (285-312). - Marsh, R. M., Tol-
erance of Civil Liberties in a New Democracy (313 —
338). - Wernet, C.A., C. Elman, B.F. Pendleton,
The Postmodern Individual: Structural Determinants of
Attitudes (339-364). - Smith, T.W., P.P. Mohler,
J. Harkness, N. Onodera, Methods for Assessing and
Calibrating Response Scales across Countries and Lan-
guage (363-415). - Yoshino, R., Trust and National
Character: Japanese Sense of Trust, Cross-National and
Longitudinal Surveys (417-450). - Pahre, R., Hege-
mony and the International Economy (451-477).
Comparative Studies in Society and
History (Cambridge)
47. 2005/4
Sartori, A., The Resonance of “Culture:” Framing a
Problem in Global Concept-History (676-699). - Ben-
ton, L., Legal Spaces of Empire; Piracy and the Ori-
gins of Ocean Regionalism (700-724). - Blecher,
R., Citizens without Sovereignty: Transfer and Ethnic
Cleansing in Israel (725-754). - Gellner, D. N., The
Emergence of Conversion in a Hindu-Buddhist Poly-
tropy; The Kathmandu Valley, Nepal, c. 1600-1995
(755-780). - Engelke, M., The Early Days of Johane
Masowe: Self-Doubt, Uncertainty, and Religious Trans-
formation (781-808).
48. 2006/1
Bôrôcz, J., Goodness Is Elsewhere: The Role of Euro-
pean Difference (110-138). - Sarkar, M., Difference
in Memory (139-168). - Roy, S., Seeing a State: Na-
tional Commemorations and the Public Sphere in India
and Turkey (200-232).
48. 2006/2
Delaney, C., Columbus’ Ultimate Goal: Jerusalem
(260-292). - Barnes, R. H., Maurice Godelier and
the Metamorphosis of Kinship: A Review Essay (326-
358). - Vaz da Silva, F., Sexual Horns: The Anatomy
and Metaphysics of Cuckoldry in European Folklore
(396-418).
Congo-Afrique (Kinshasa)
45. 2005/398
Awak’Ayom, A., Une “coalition chrétienne” pour le
changement intégral en RDC ? (405-422). - Ekwa M.,
Les chrétiens face à la question de nationalité et de
citoyenneté. De la citoyenneté au développement de la
RDC (423-430).
Contributions to Indian Sociology
(New Delhi)
39. 2005/1
Jeffrey, C., P. Jeffrey, R. Jeffrey, When Schooling
Fails: Young Men, Education, and Low-Caste Politics in
Rural North India (1-38). - Froerer, P., Challenging
Traditional Authority: The Role of the State, the Di-
vine, and the RSS (39-73). - Zou, D. V., Raiding the
Dreaded Past: Representations of Headhunting and Hu-
man Sacrifice in North-East India (75-105). - Philips,
Anthropos 101.2006
688
Zeitschriftenschau
A., The Kinship, Marriage, and Gender Experiences of
Tamil Women in Sri Lanka’s Tea Plantations (107-142).
39. 2005/2
Chatterji, R., Plans, Habitation, and Slum Redevel-
opment: The Production of Community in Dharavi,
Mumbai (197-218). - Simpson, E., The “Gujarat”
Earthquake and the Political Economy of Nostalgia
(219-249). - Hodges, S., Revolutionary Family Life
and the Self Respect Movement in Tamil South India,
1926-49 (251-277). - Staples, J., Becoming a Man:
Personhood and Masculinity in a South Indian Leprosy
Colony (279-305).
39. 2005/3
Devika, J., The Malayali Sexual Revolution; Sex, “Lib-
eration,” and Family Planning in Kerala (343-374). -
Srivastava, S., Ghummakkads, a Woman’s Place, and
the LTC-walas. Towards a Critical History of “Home,”
“Belonging,” and “Attachment” (375-405).
Cultural Anthropology (Arlington)
20. 2005/4
Basse, M., Wandering Hero Stories in the Southern
Lowlands of New Guinea: Culture Areas, Comparison,
and History (443-473). - Maurer, B., Due Diligence
and “Reasonable Man,” Offshore (474-505). - Lukose,
R., Empty Citizenship: Protesting Politics in the Era of
Globalization (506-533). - Bloch, A., Longing for the
Kollektiv: Gender, Power, and Residential Schools in
Central Siberia (534-569). - McGranaham, C., Truth,
Fear, and Lies: Exile Politics and Arrested Histories of
the Tibetan Resistance (570-608).
21. 2006/1
Schwenkel, C., Recombinant History: Transnational
Practices of Memory and Knowledge Production in Con-
temporary Vietnam (3-30). - Willford, A., The “Al-
ready Surmounted” yet “Secretly Familiar:” Malaysian
Identity as Symptom (31-59). - Sharma, A., Cross-
breeding Institutions, Breeding Struggle: Women’s Em-
powerment, Neoliberal Govemmentality, and State (Re)
Formation in India (60-95). - Hale, C. R., Activist
Research v. Cultural Critique; Indigenous Land Rights
and the Contradictions of Politically Engaged Anthro-
pology (96-120). - Castañeda, Q. E., Ethnography
in the Forest: An Analysis of Ethics in the Morals of
Anthropology (121-145).
Culture and Religion (Richmond)
6. 2005/2
Waggoner, M., Restaging the Secular: Response to the
Critique of Morality and Secular Reason (237-261). -
Lindquist, G., Healers, Leaders, and Entrepreneurs:
Shamanic Revival in Southern Siberia (263-285). -
Gilliat-Ray, S., From “Chapel” to “Prayer Room:” The
Production, Use, and Politics of Sacred Space in Public
Institutions (287-308). - Armet, S., Controlling the
Means of Production; The Urban Poor in an Age of
Globalisation (309-326).
6. 2005/3
Bradley, T., Does Compassion Bring Results? A Criti-
cal Perspective on Faith and Development (337-351). -
Parish, J., From Liverpool to Freetown: West African
Witchcraft, Conspiracy, and the Occult (353-361). -
Burack C., J. J. Josephson, Origin Stories: Same-Sex
Sexuality and Christian Right Politics (369-392). -
Park, J. K., “Creating My Own Cultural and Spiritual
Bubble;” Case of Cultural Consumption by Spiritual
Seeker Anime Fans (393-413).
7. 2006/1
John, G. St., Electronic Dance Music Culture and Re-
ligion: An Overview (1-25). - Lynch. G., E. Badger,
The Mainstream Post-Rave Club Scene as a Secondary
Institution. A British Perspective (27-40). - D’Andrea,
A., The Spiritual Economy of Nightclubs and Raves:
Osho Sannyasins as Party Promoters in Ibiza and Pune/
Goa (61-75). - Lau, S. S.-C., Churched Ibiza: Evan-
gelical Christianity and Club Culture (77-92). - Till,
R., The Nine O’Clock Service: Mixing Club Culture
and Postmodern Christianity (93-110).
Curare (Wiesbaden)
27. 2004/3
Schmidt, B. E., Vodoo-Medizin in New York City. Zur
Relevanz religiöser Heilung in der Migration (201-
208). - Gronover, A., Teilnehmende Beobachtung
in religiösen Kontexten - Erfahrung und Reflexion
als Methode? (209-214). - Knipper, M., Behandeln
und Beobachten - methodische Konsequenzen aus der
Doppelrolle als ethnologisch forschender Arzt (215 —
224). - Verwey, M., Schmerzpatientinnen und -pa-
tienten mit Migrationshintergrund aus der Perspektive
von medizinischen und paramedizinischen Fachkräften
(225-238). - Zahlten-Hinguranage, A., L. Bernd,
D. Sabo, Die persönliche und soziale Konstruktion des
Körpers - Medizinethnologie im klinischen Alltag ei-
ner deutschen orthopädisch-onkologischen Klinik (239-
246). - Lauer, M. B., “Da kannst Du nichts machen -
die Globalisierung ...” Neuere Theorien des Kultur-
transfers und ihre Grenzen (253-261). - Patemann-
Hinz, H., Die Ahnenkrankheit hadhimu. Krankheit ver-
handeln statt “Panado” schlucken. Eine Feldforschung
bei den Hambukushu von Namibia (263-278). - Kunt-
ner, L., Zum Umgang mit der Nachgeburt. Plazentabe-
stattung im Kulturvergleich (279-293).
28. 2005/1
Chopra, A. S., Globaler Ayurveda - eine Ayurveda-
Klinik in Deutschland (39-42). - Richter, K., K.
Richter, Transferschritte für die Arbeit mit “Rituellen
Köperhaltungen und Ekstatischer Trance nach Felicitas
Goodman” in der Psychotherapie (43-52). - Balzer,
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
689
C., Ayahuasca Rituals in Germany: The First Steps of
the Brazilian Santo Daime Religion in Europe (53-
66). - Schröder, E., Das 50 Jahre alte Konzept des
“Signalismus in der Kunst der Naturvölker” von Katesa
Schlosser. Eine Interpretationshilfe für das Veständnis
künstlerischer Darstellung aus Ritual, Alltag und Klinik
in gesunden und in kranken Tagen (75-85).
Current Anthropology (Chicago)
46. 2005/4
Schneider, J., P. Schneider, Mafia, Antimafia, and the
Plural Cultures of Sicily (501-520). - Sutter, R. €.,
R. J. Cortez, The Nature of Moche Human Sacrifice: A
Bio-Archaeological Perspective (521-549).
46. 2005/5
Barker, J., Engineers and Political Dreams: Indonesia
in the Satellite Age (703-727). - Aporta, C., E.
Higgs, Satellite Culture: Global Positioning Systems,
Inuit Wayfinding, and the Need for a New Account of
Technology (729-753). - Horst, H., D. Miller, From
Kinship to Link-Up Cell Phones and Social Networking
in Jamaica (755-778). - Yongming, Z., Living on
the Cyber Border. Minjian Political Writers in Chinese
Cyberspace (779-803). - Green, S., P. Harvey, H.
Knox, Scales of Place and Networks: An Ethnography
of the Imperative to Connect through Information and
Communications Technologies (805-826).
46. 2005/Supplement
Lock, M., Eclipse of the Gene and the Return of
Divination (847-870).
47. 2006/1
Clendon, M., Reassessing Australia’s Linguistic Prehis-
tory (39-61). - Rosenthal, J. P., Politics, Culture, and
Governance in the Development of Prior Informed Con-
sent in Indigenous Communities (119-142). - Kramer,
K. L., G. P. McMillan, The Effect of Labor-Saving
Technology on Longitudinal Fertility Changes (165—
172). - Gurven, M., The Evolution of Contingent Co-
operation (185-192).
Entwicklungsethnologie (Trier)
14. 2005/1-2
Benda-Beckmann, F. von, K. von Benda-Beckmann,
W. Heise, M. Schönhuth (Hrsg.), Recht und Entwick-
lung - Law and Development (5-221).
Erdkunde(Bonn)
60. 2006/1.
Bauer, S., A. Escher, S. Knieper, Essaouira. “The
Wind City” as a “Cultural Product” (25-39).
Ethnic and Racial Studies
(Henley-on-Thames)
29. 2006/1
Massey, D. S., M. J. Fischer, The Effect of Child-
hood Segregation in Minority Academic Performance
at Selective Colleges (1-26). - Tzanelli, R., “Not My
Flag!” Citizenship and Nationhood in the Margins of Eu-
rope [Greece, October 2000/2003] (27-49). - Janmaat,
J. G., Popular Conceptions of Nationhood in Old and
New European Member States: Partial Support for the
Ethnic-Civic Framework (50-78). - Pickering, P. M.,
Generating Social Capital for Bridging Ethnic Divisions
in the Balkans: Case Studies of Two Bosniak Cities
(79-103). - Howard, K., Constructing the Irish of
Britain: Ethnic Recognition and the 2001 UK Censuses
(104-123). - Wherry, F. F., The Nation-State, Iden-
tity Management, and Indigenous Crafts: Constructing
Markets and Opportunities in Northwest Costa Rica
(123-152). - Robson, K., R. Berthoud, Age at First
Birth and Disadvantage among Ethnic Groups in Britain
(153-172).
29. 2006/2
Fox, J. E., Consuming the Nation: Holidays, Sports,
and the Production of Collective Belonging (217—
236). - Murji, K., Using Racial Stereotypes in Anti-
Racist Campaigns (260-280). - Kulyk, V., Construct-
ing Common Sense: Language and Ethnicity in Ukraini-
an Public Discourse (281-314). - Goldberg, D. T,,
Racial Europeanization (331-364).
29. 2006/3
Nayak, A., After Race. Ethnography, Race, and Post-
Race Theory (411-430). - Trondman, M., Disowning
Knowledge; To Be or Not to Be “the Immigrant”
in Sweden (431-451). - Kalra, Y. S., Ethnography
as Politics: A Critical Review of British Studies of
Racialized Minorities (452-470). - AH, S., Racializing
Research: Managing Power and Politics (471-486). -
Twine, F. W., Visual Ethnography and Racial Theory;
Analyzing Family Photograph Albums as Archives of
Interracial Intimacies (487-511). - Knowles, C., D.
Harper, Seeing Race through the Lens (512-529).
Ethnography (London)
6. 2005/2
Sherman, R., Producing the Superior Self; Strategic
Comparison and Symbolic Boundaries among Luxu-
ry Hotel Workers (131-158). - Skuse, A., Voices of
Freedom: Afghan Politics in Radio Soap Opera (159—
181). - O’Connor, E., Embodied Knowledge: The
Experience of Meaning and the Struggle towards Profi-
ciency in Glassblowing (183-204). - Blommaert, J., J.
Collins, S. Slembrouck, Polycentricity and Interactional
Regimes in Global Neighbourhoods (205-235).
6. 2005/3
Chari, S., V. Gidwani, Introduction; Grounds for a
Anthropos 101.2006
690
Zeitschriftenschau
Spatial Ethnography of Labor (267-281). - Erickson,
K., J. L. Pierce, Farewell to the Organization Man:
The Feminization of Loyalty in High-End and Low-
End Service Jobs (283-313). - Mann, G., What’s a
Penny Worth? Wages, Prices, and the American Work-
ing Man (315-355). - Cravey, A. J., Desire, Work,
and Transnational Identity (357-383). - Mills, M. B.,
Engendering Discourses of Displacement: Contesting
Mobility and Marginality in Rural Thailand (385-419).
6. 2005/4
Hancock, B. H., Steppin’ out of Whiteness (427-
461). - Takano, T., Connections with the Land; Land-
Skills Courses in Igloolik, Nunavut (463-486). - Yang,
S.-Y., Imagining the State: An Ethnographic Study
(487-516). - Bozic-Vrbancic, S., “After All, I Am
Partly Maori, Partly Dalmatian, but First of All I Am a
New Zealander” (517-542). - Hsu, C. L., A Taste of
“Minority:” Working in a Western Restaurant in Market
Socialist China (543-565).
Ethnohistory (Durham)
52. 2005/4
Steverlynck, A., To What Extent Were Amazon Women
Facts, Real or Imagined, of Native Americans? (689—
726).
Ethnologia Europaea (Gottingen)
34. 2004/2
Arvastson, G., T. Butler, Metamorphoses, Transfor-
mations, and European Cities (5-17). - Shaw, S., J.
Karmowska, The Multicultural Heritage of European
Cities and Its Re-presentation through Regeneration Pro-
grammes (41-56). - Evans, G., J. Foord, Rich Mix
Cities. From Multicultural Experience to Cosmopolitan
Engagement (71-84).
Ethnology (Pittsburgh)
44. 2005/2
Dernbach, K. B., Spirits of the Hereafter; Death, Funer-
ary Possession, and the Afterlife in Chuuk, Micronesia
(99-123). - Buckser, A., Chabad in Copenhagen: Fun-
damentalism and Modernity in Jewish Denmark (125—
145). - Palmer, C. T., Mummers and Moshers: Two
Rituals of Trust in Changing Social Environments (147-
166). - Avieli, N., Vietnamese New Year Rice Cakes:
Iconic Festive Dishes and Contested National Identity
(167-187). - Lohmann, R. I., The Afterlife of Asa-
bano Corpses; Relationships with the Deceased in Papua
New Guinea (189-206).
44. 2005/3
Perry, D. L., Wolof Women, Economic Liberaliza-
tion, and the Crisis of Masculinity in Rural Senegal
(207-226). - Natrajan, B., Caste, Class, and Com-
munity in India: An Ethnographic Approach (227-
241). - Draper, P., C. Haney, Patrilateral Bias among
a Traditionally Egalitarian People: Ju/’Hoansi Naming
Practice (243-259). - Bondarenko, D., A. Kazan-
kov, D. Khaltourina, A. Korotayev, Ethnographic At-
las XXXI: Peoples of Easternmost Europe (261-289).
Ethnomusicology (Bloomington)
49. 2005/3
Reed, D. B., “The Ge is in the Church” and “Our Par-
ents Are Playing Muslim;” Performance, Identity, and
Resistance among the Dan in Postcolonial Côte d’Ivoire
(347-367). - Baker, G., ¡Hip Hop, Revolución! Na-
tionalizing Rap in Cuba (368-402). - Miller, R. S.,
Performing Ambivalence: The Case of Quadrille Music
and Dance in Carriacou, Grenada (405-440). - Dor, G.,
Uses of Indigenous Music Genres in Ghanaian Choral
Art Music: Perspectives from the Works of Amu, Blege,
and Dor (441-475).
50. 2006/1
Manabe, N., Globalization and Japanese Creativity:
Adaptations of Japanese Language to Rap (1-31). -
Hutchinson, S., Mengue Típico in Santiago and New
York: Transnational Regionalism in a Neo-Traditional
Dominican Music (37-72). - Benadon, F., Slicing
the Beat: Jazz Eighth-Notes as Expressive Microrhythm
(73-98). - Gerischer, C., OSuingueBaia.no: Rhythmic
Feeling and Microrhythmic Phenomena in Brazilian
Percussion (99-119). - López Viera, J. A., The Baile
del Tambor of the Island of La Gomera (120-140).
Ethnos (Stockholm)
70. 2005/4
Ninetto, A., “An Island of Socialism in a Capitalist
Country:” Postsocialist Russian Science and the Culture
of the State (443-464). - Vann, E. F., Domesticating
Consumer Goods in the Global Economy: Examples
from Vietnam and Russia (465-488). - Phillips, S. D.,
Civil Society and Healing: Theorizing Women’s Social
Activism in Post-Soviet Ukraine (489-514). - Wanner,
C., Money, Morality, and New Forms of Exchange in
Postsocialist Ukraine (515-537). - Moore, S. F., Key
Informants on the History of Anthropology Part of the
Story: A Memoir (538-566).
71. 2006/1
Ingold, T., Rethinking the Animate, Re-Animating
Thought (9-20). - Hornborg, A., Animism, Fetishism,
and Objectivism as Strategies for Knowing (or Not
Knowing) the World (21-32). - Bird-David, N., Ani-
mistic Epistemology: Why Do Some Hunter-Gatherers
Not Depict Animals? (33-50). - Scott, C., Spirit and
Practical Knowledge in the Person of the Bear among
Wemindji Cree Hunters (51-66). - Lepri, I., Identity
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
691
and Otherness among the Ese Ejja of Northern Bolivia
(67-88). - Sneath, D., Transacting and Enacting:
Corruption, Obligation, and the Use of Monies in
Mongolia (89-112).
Ethos (London)
33. 2005/4
Levy, R. I., Ethnography, Comparison, and Changing
Times (433-458).
34. 2006/1
Walkerdine, V., Workers in the New Economy: Trans-
formation as Border Crossing (10-41). - Cassaniti,
J., Toward a Cultural Psychology of Impermanence in
Thailand (58-88). - Pratt Ewing, K., Revealing and
Concealing: Interpersonal Dynamics and the Negotiation
of Identity in the Interview (89-122). - Erdreich,
L., Degendering the Honor/Care Conflation; Palestinian
Israeli University Women’s Appropriations of Indepen-
dence (132-164).
Etnofoor (Amsterdam)
18. 2005/1
Bendix, R., Introduction: Ear to Ear. Nose to Nose,
Skin to Skin. The Senses in Comparative Ethnographic
Perspective (3-14). - Marvin, G., Sensing Nature. En-
countering the World in Hunting (15-26). - Waimsley,
E., Race, Place, and Taste. Making Identities through
Sensory Experience (43-66). - Young, D., The Smell
of Green-Ness. Cultural Synaesthesia in the Western
Desert [Australia] (61-77). - Hsu, E., Acute Pain
Infliction as Therapy (78-96). - Moeran, B., Japanese
Fragrance Descriptives and Gender Constructions. Pre-
liminary Steps towards an Anthropology of Olfaction
(97-123). - Orlove, B., M. Kabugo, Signs and Sight in
Southern Uganda. Representing Perception in Ordinary
Conversation (124-141).
Etudes Inuit (Québec)
29. 2005/1-2
Csonka, Y., Les sens inuit de l’histoire et leurs diver-
gences au Groenland de l’Ouest et au Nunavut (476-
65). - Krupnik, I., “When Our Words Are Put to
Paper.” Heritage Documentation and Reversing Knowl-
edge Shift in the Bering Strait Region (67-90). - Gear-
heard, S., Using Interactive Multimedia to Document
and Communicate Inuit Knowledge (91-114). - Cha-
rest, P., Les assistants de recherche amérindiens en tant
que médiateurs culturels: Expériences en milieux innu et
atikamekw du Québec (115-129). - Vakhtin, N., Two
Approaches to Reversing Language Shift and the Soviet
Publication Program for Indigenous Minorities (131-
147). - Andersen, C., A. Johns, Labrador Inuttitut:
Speaking into the Future (187-205). - Collette, V.,
Rétention linguistique et changement social à Mistissini
(207-219). - Aporta, C., From Map to Horizon;
from Trail to Journey; Documenting Inuit Geographical
Knowledge (221-231).
European Review of Native American
Studies (Altenstadt)
19. 2005/2
Ferrara, N., G. Fanone, Healing Fragile Selves. Emo-
tional Expression and Psychotherapy among the Quebec
Cree (41-50).
FF Network for the Folklore Fellows
(Turku)
29. 2005
Kaivola-Bregenhpj, A., Homo Narrans - People Mak-
ing Narratives (3-11).
Folklore (London)
116. 2005/2
Schmidt, S., Children in Nama and Damara Tales of
Magic (155-171). - Howard, R. G., A Theory of
Vernacular Rhetoric; The Case of the “Sinner’s Prayer”
Online (172-188).
116. 2005/3
Abu-Rabia, A., The Evil Eye and Cultural Beliefs
among the Bedouin Tribes of the Negev, Middle East
(241-254). - Cavaglion, G., R. Sela-Shayovitz, The
Cultural Construction of Contemporary Satanic Legends
in Israel (255-271). - Tuczay, C. A., Motifs in the
Arabian Nights and in Ancient and Medieval European
Literature (272-291). - Gencarella Olbrys, S., Money
Talks: Folklore in the Public Sphere (292-310).
117. 2006/1
Russel, I., Working with Tradition; Towards a Partner-
ship Model of Fieldwork (15-32). - Power, R., A Place
of Community: “Celtic” Iona and Institutional Religion
(33-53). - Marianthi, K., The Folk Cult of St. Phanou-
rios in Greece and Cyprus, and Its Relationship with
the International Tale Type 804 (54-74). - Hugoson,
M., “Instant Tradition:” The Introduction of the Swedish
Easter Tree (75-86). - Gaudet, M., Ribbon Pulls in
Wedding Cakes: Tracing a New Orleans Tradition (87-
96). - Sanga, I., Kumpolo: Aesthetic Appreciation and
Cultural Appropriation of Bird Sounds in Tanzania (97 -
102).
Geo (Hamburg)
2005/12
George, U., Sudan: Erzengel und Heilige am Nil: Ein
Vorposten des Christentums kommt nach Jahrhunderten
Anthropos 101.2006
692
Zeitschriftenschau
wieder ans Licht (18-40). - Eckhardt, E., Sebastian
Münster. Von einem, der daheim blieb, die Welt zu
entdecken (150-164).
Hemispheres (Warszawa)
20. 2005
Zimon, H., Burial Rituals of Elderly People among
the Konkomba of Northern Ghana (59-75). - Kow-
nacki, P., The Political Aspect of Cultural Condi-
tions for the African Union’s Functioning (109-119). -
Mrozek-Dumanowska, A., The Survival of Ancient
Rituals in Contemporary Arab Countries (133-140). -
Krasniewski, M., Tro Adherents in West Africa. Tradi-
tion and Slavery (141-150).
L’Homme (Paris)
175-176. 2005
Colleyn, J.-P., Fiction et fictions en anthropologie
(147-163). - Keck, F., Fiction, folie, fétichisme.
Claude Lévi-Strauss entre Comte et La Comédie hu-
maine■ (203-218). - Debaene, V., Ethnographie / fic-
tion. A propos de quelques confusions et faux paradoxes
(219-232).
177-178. 2006
Williams, P., Standards et standardisation. Sur un aspect
du répertoire des musiciens de jazz (7-48). - Lortat-
Jacaob, B., L’image musicale du souvenir. Georgia
on my Mind by Ray Charles (49-72). - Pier repont,
A., Lei My Children Hear Music. Pour une ethnogra-
phie des phénomènes de transmission dans le champ
jazzistique (73-105). - Morand, K., “Apprendre à
chanter.” Essai sur l’enseignement du jazz vocal (107-
129). - Martin, D.-C., Le myosotis, et puis la rose ...
Pour une sociologie des “musiques de masse” (131 —
153). - Arom, S., D.-C. Martin, Combiner les sons
pour réinventer le monde. La World Music: Sociolo-
gie et analyse musicale (155-177). - Schaeffner, A.,
Introduction à Musique et danses funéraires chez les
Dogons de Sanga [texte établi, présenté et annoté par
Jean Jamin, suivi de “Schaeffner aux tambours” par Ber-
nard Lortat-Jacobi] (207-249). - Adam, M., Nouvelles
considérations dubitatives sur la théorie de la magie et
de la sorcellerie en Afrique noire (279-302). - Maj,
E., Croyances et convenances iakoutes autour du sobo.
Ethnographie du poisson où tout est bon (303-327). -
Tétart, G., Entomologie, éthologie et dérives anthropo-
logiques (329-347). - Derlon, B., M. Jeudy-Ballini,
Colicelionneneur/collectionné. L’art primitif, le discours
de la passion et la traversée imaginaire des frontières
(349-372). - Fogel, F., Du mariage “arabe” au sens de
la parenté. De “frère-frère” à “frère-sœur” (373-394). -
Hage, P., Dravidian Kinship System in Africa (395-
407).
Indiana (Berlín)
22. 2005
Gareis, I., Identidades latinoamericanas frente al colo-
nialismo - una apreciación histórico-antropológica: In-
troducción al dossier (9-18). - Ruiz Moras, E., Com-
munitas, Ritual Action, and Open Identities among the
Toba Taksek of the Central Chaco (45-53). - Masson,
P., Aspectos de la identidad étnico-cultural e histórico-
social manifestada en la cultura tradicional indígena
de una región de los Andes Ecuatorianos (73-100). -
Acuña Delgado, A, Semana Santa en Norogachi: Fiesta
y espectáculo del sincretismo religioso rarámuri (101 —
126).
International Journal of African Historical
Studies (Boston)
38. 2005/2
Isaacman, A., Displaced People, Displaced Energy, and
Displaced Memories; The Case of Cahora Bassa, 1970-
2004 (201-238). - Jansen, J., Hunting Griots? Three
“German” Studies in Oral Tradition (329-336).
International Journal of American
Linguistics (Chicago)
71. 2005/3
Collins, W. M., Codeswitching Avoidance as a Strategy
for Mam (Maya) Linguistic Revitalization (239-276).
71. 2005/4
Voort, H. van der, Kwaza in Comparative Perspective
(365-412).
Inter-Religio (Taipei)
46. 2005
Kim, S.-n., Korean Shamanic Practice in Cyber Culture
(3-20). - Tomomasa, T., Introduction to the Study of
the Religious Factor in Japanese Comics (21-29). -
Rika, M., The Understanding Reception of Re-Incar-
nation in Contemporary Japan (30-38).
Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations
(Birmingham)
17. 2006/1
Dragonas, T., A. Frangoudaki, Educating the Muslim
Minority in Western Thrace (21-41).
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
693
Journal de la Société des américanistes
(Paris)
91. 2005/1
Castañeda de la Paz, M., El Códice X o los anales
del grupo de la Tira de peregrinación. Evolución pic-
tográfica y problemas en su análisis interpretativo (7-
40). - Yvinec, C., Que disent les tapirs ? De la commu-
nication avec les non-humains en Amazonie (41-70). -
Désveaux, E., L’Amérique ou le grand renoncement à
Durkheim (71-79). - Capone, S., Introduction: Re-
penser les “Amériques noirs Nouvelles Perspectives
de la recherche afro-américaniste (83-91). - Guedi,
P., Du panafricanisme à la réafricanisation : Formation
et actualité du mouvement akan aux Etats-Unis (93-
112). - Testa, S., La “lucumisation” des cultes d’origine
africains à Cuba: Le cas de S agua la Grande (113—
138). - Parés, L. N., The Birth of the Yoruba Hege-
mony in Post-Abolition Candomblé (139-159). - Rey,
T., Toward an Ethnohistory of Haitian Pilgrimage (161 —
184). - Siffredi, A., Cuando la persona se deshumaniza:
Des-centramiento y jaguarización en la sociedad nivaclé
(185-210).
91. 2005/2
Harkin, M. E., Object Lessons. The Question of Cul-
tural Property in the Age of Repatriation (9-29). -
Zuidema, R. T., Problèmes de structure dans les Andes.
De la parenté, de la polygynie et des moieties à Cuzco
(31-49). - Boidin, C., Tperekue ou abandonner sa
demeure. Une population rurale guaranophone du Pa-
raguay (51-82). - Palmié, S., Ackee and Saltfish vs.
amalá con quimbombó? A Note on Sidney Mintz’
Contribution to the Historical Anthropology of African
American Cultures (89-122). - Hoffmann, O., Re-
naissance des études afromexicaines et production de
nouvelles identités ethniques (123-152). - Argyriadis,
K., Ramas, familles, réseaux. Les supports sociaux de la
diffusion de la santería cubaine [Cuba-Mexique] (153 —
183). - Frigerio, A., A. P. Oro, Guerre sainte dans le
Cône sud latino-américain : Pentecôtistes versus umban-
distes (185-218).
The Journal of African History
(Cambridge)
47. 2006/1
Oppen, A. von, The Village as Territory: Enclosing
Locality in Northwest Zambia, 1950 s to 1990 s (57-
75). - Fourchard, L., Lagos and the Invention of
Juvenile Delinquency in Nigeria, 1920-1960 (115—
137).
Journal of American Folklore (Washington)
118. 2005/469
Prahlad, S. A., Africana Folklore: History and Chal-
lenges (253-270). - Kerr, A.E., The Paper Bag Prin-
ciple; Of the Myth and the Motion of Colorism (271 —
289). - Haring, L., Eastward to the Islands: The Other
Diaspora (290-307). - Sánchez-Carretero, C., San-
tos y Misterios as Channels of Communication in the
Diaspora: Afro-Dominican Religious Practices Abroad
(308-326). - Largey, M., Recombinant Mythology and
the Alchemy of Memory; Occide Jeanty, Ogou, and
Jean-Jacques Dessalines in Haiti (327-353). - McMa-
hon, F. F., Repeat Performance: Dancing DiDinga with
the Lost Boys of Southern Sudan (354-379).
118. 2005/470
Dundes, A., Folkloristics in the Twenty-First Century
[AES Invited Presidential Plenary Address, 2004] (385-
408). - Bronner, S. J., Contesting Tradition: The Deep
Play and Protest of Pigeon Shoots (409-452). - Wick-
wire, W., Stories from the Margins: Toward a More
Inclusive British Columbia Historiography (453-474).
119. 2006/471
Dyen, D. J., Routes to Roots: Searching for the Streetlife
of Memory (19-29). - Rahn, M., Laying a Place
at the Table: Creating Public Foodways Models from
Scratch (30-46). - Chittenden, V. A., “Put Your Very
Special Place on the North Country Map!” Community
Participation in Cultural Landmarking (47-65).
Journal of Anthropological Research
(Albuquerque)
61. 2005/3
Blum, S. D., Five Approaches to Explaining “Truth” and
“Deception” in Human Communication (289-315). -
Bacigalupo, A. M., The Creation of a Mapuche Sor-
cerer: Sexual Ambivalence, the Commodification of
Knowledge, and the Coveting of Wealth (317-336). -
Charles, J. O., Social Relations and the “Trinity” in
Ibibio Kinship: The Case of Ibibio Immigrants in Ak-
pabuyo (Efikland), Nigeria (337-356). - Shapira, R.,
Academic Capital or Scientific Progress? A Critique of
Studies of Kibbutz Stratification (357-380).
62. 2006/1
Novak, S. A., L. Rodseth, Remembering Mountain
Meadows; Collective Violence and the Manipulation
of Social Boundaries (1-25). - Reyes-García, V., R.
Godoy, V. Vadez, T. Huanca, W. R. Leonard, Person-
al and Group Incentives to Invest in Prosocial Behavior:
A Study in the Bolivian Amazon (81-101).
The Journal of Asian Studies (Ann Arbor)
64. 2005/3
Glover, W. J., Objects, Models, and Exemplary Works:
Educative Sentiment in Colonial India (539-566). -
Claypool, L., Zhang Jian and China’s First Muse-
um (567-604). - Aguilar, F. V. Jr., Tracing Origins.
Anthropos 101.2006
694
Zeitschriftenschau
Ilustrado Nationalism and the Racial Science of Mi-
gration Waves (605-637). - Henry, T. A., Sanitizing
Empire: Japanese Articulations of Korean Otherness and
the Construction of Early Colonial Seoul, 1905-1919
(639-675).
64. 2005/4
Blackwood, E., Gender Transgression in Colonial and
Postcolonial Indonesia (849-879). - Lee, N., Repre-
senting the Worker: The Worker-Intellectual Alliance of
the 1980 s in South Korea (911-937). - Sokefeld, M.,
From Colonialism to Postcolonial Colonialism: Chang-
ing Modes of Domination in the Northern Areas of
Pakistan (939-973).
Journal of Contemporary Religion
(London)
21. 2006/1
Bartholomew, R., Publishing, Celebrity, and the Glob-
alisation of Conservative Protestantism (1-13). - Ezzy,
D., White Witches and Black Magic: Ethics and Con-
sumerism in Contemporary Witchcraft (15-31). -
Hjelm, T., Between Satan and Harry Potter: Legitimat-
ing Wicca in Finland (33-48). - Parsons, G., Civil
Religion and the Invention of Tradition: The Festival
of Saint Ansano in Siena (49-67). - Yersteeg, P.,
Marginal Christian Spirituality: An Example from a
Dutch Meditation Group (83-97).
Journal of Mediterranean Studies
(Letchworth)
15. 2005/1
Just, R., In Defence of Rules: Pierre Bourdieu en Grèce
(1-24). - Schubert, Y., Dynamics of Macedonian
Kinship in a Mediterranean Perspective: Contextualiz-
ing Ideologies and Pragmatics of Agnation (25-49). -
Kenna, M. E., Why Does Incense Smell Religious?
Greek Orthodoxy and the Anthropology of Smell (51-
70). - Ginkel, R. van, Killing Giants of the Sea:
Contentious Heritage and the Politics of Culture (71-
98). - Fournier, S., Old Resources for New Cere-
monies: Building up Olive Products as New Leisure and
as Cultural Heritage in Mediterranean France (99-120).
The Journal of Pacific History (Canberra)
40. 2005/1
Chappie, S., Sex Inequality in the Maori Population in
the Prehistoric, Proto-Historic, and Early Historic Eras
in a Trans-Polynesian Context (1-21). - Johnston, E.,
Reinventing Fiji at 19th-Century and Early 20th-Century
Exhibition (23-44). - Campbell, I. C., Resistance and
Colonial Government: A Comparative Study of Samoa
(45-69). - Campbell, I. C., Pacific Currents. The
Quest for Institutional Reform in Tonga (91-104).
40. 2005/3
Wood, M., Charles Lane-Poole and Early Forest Sur-
veys of Papua and New Guinea (289-309). - Doran,
S., Wanting and Knowing Best: Motive and Method in
Australia’s Governance of PNG, 1966-69 (311-321). -
Douglas, B., Notes on “Race” and the Biologisation of
Human Difference (331-338).
Journal of Religion in Africa (Leiden)
35. 2005/4
Loimeier, R., Translating the Qur’an in Sub-Saharan
Africa. Dynamics and Disputes (403-423). - Janson,
M., Roaming about for God’s Sake: The Upsurge of
the TablTgh Jama‘at in The Gambia (459-481). -
Desplat, P., The Articulation of Religious Identities and
Their Boundaries in Ethiopia: Labelling Difference and
Processes of Contextualization in Islam (482-505).
The Journal of the Royal Anthropological
Institute (London)
11. 2005/4
Yan, Y., The Individual and Transformation of Bride-
wealth in Rural North China (637-658). - Were, G.,
Thinking through Images: Kastom and the Coming
of the Baha’is to Northern New Ireland, Papua New
Guinea (659-676). - Lepri, I., The Meaning of Kinship
among the Ese Ejja of Northern Bolivia (703-724). -
Hauser-Schaublin, B., Temple and King: Resource,
Management, Rituals, and Redistribution in Early Bali
(747-771).
12. 2006/1
Sorabji, C., Managing Memories in Post-War Sarajevo:
Individuals, Bad Memories, and New Wars (1-18). -
Froerer, P., Emphasizing “Others:” The Emergence of
Hindu Nationalism in a Central Indian Tribal Communi-
ty (39-59). - Fewster, K. J., The Potential of Analogy
of Post-Processual Archaeologies: A Case Study from
Basimane Ward, Serowe, Botswana (61-87). - Kelly,
T., Documented Lives; Fear and the Uncertainties of
Law during the Second Palestinian Intifada (89-107). -
Lattas, A., The Utopian Promise of Government (129—
150). - Simpson, E., Apprenticeship in Western In-
dia (151-171). - Pirie, F., Secular Morality, Village
Law, and Buddhism in Tibetan Societies (173-190). -
Strathern, M., A Community of Critics? Thoughts on
New Knowledge (191-209).
Special Issue 2006
Ellen, R., Introduction to Ethnobiology and the Science
of Humankind (1-22). - Berlin, B., The First Congress
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
695
of Ethnozoological Nomenclature (23-44). - Mithen,
S., Ethnobiology and the Evolution of the Human Mind
(45-61). - Harris, D. R., The Interplay of Ethnograph-
ic and Archaeological Knowledge in the Study of Past
Human Subsistence in the Tropics (63-78). - Rival,
L., Amazonian Historical Ecologies (79-91). - Wald-
stein, A., C. Adams, The Interface between Medical
Anthropology and Medical Ethnobiology (95-118). -
Siliitoe, P., Ethnobiology and Applied Anthropology:
Rapprochement of the Academic with the Practical
(119-142). - Hunn, E., Meeting of Minds: How Do
We Share our Appreciation of Traditional Environmental
Knowledge? (143-160).
KAS Auslandsinformationen
(Sank! Augustin)
10. 2005
Kunze, T., Der Tschetschenenkonflikt: Geschichte, Ste-
reotypen und Ausblick (4-21). - Gallep, B., Der
zentralamerikanische Integrationsprozess. Problème und
Scheinprobleme (50-81).
Language (Baltimore)
81. 2005/4
Port, R. F., A. F. Leary, Against Formal Phonology
(927-964).
Lingua Posnaniensis (Poznan)
47. 2005
Baldi, S., L’influence de la langue arabe en Afrique (7-
19). - Kießling, R., bàk mwà mé do - Camfranglais
in Cameroon (87-107). - Koerner, E. F. K., Pour une
historiographie engagée : Or What’s Wrong with the
History of Linguistics (109-177) - Maurus, B. V. Ill,
Sanskrit: An Analysis in Terms of Haugen’s Theory
of Language Planning (121-131). - Peng, F. C. C.,
Dementia as a Form of Language Disorders: Nosological
Clarification (133-141). - Preston, D. R., What is
Folk Linguistics? Why Should You Care? (143-162). -
Zaborsky, A., Grammaticalization and Lexicalization in
the Verbal System of Hamitosemitic (199-207).
Maghreb Machrek (Paris)
2005/185
Bensaad, A., Introduction ; Le Sahara, vecteur de
mondialisation (7-12). - Bensaad, A., Les migra-
tions transsahariennes, une mondialisation par la marge
(13-36). - Alloua, M., La migration transnationale
des africains subsahariens au Maghreb : L’exemple de
l’étape marocaine (37-57). - Haddad, S., Les migra-
tions africaines, enjeu géopolitique libyen (81-93). -
Le Houerou, F., A la rencontre des mondes : L’épopée
des réfugiés du Darfour (103-126).
2005-2006/186
Tamini, A., Le débat islamique sur les bombes humaines
(15-26). - Vuillemenot, A.-M., Femmes bombes hu-
maines, les cas palestinien et tschéchène (27-38). -
Maréchal, B., La sémantique de l’action engagée, en
rapport au martyre, dans des discours apparentés aux
Frères musulmans européens (39-55). - Richard, Y.,
Les débats sur le martyre dans le chiisme (72-83).
The Mankind Quarterly (Washington)
46. 2005/1
Scott, R., Law, Social Science, Federal and State Agen-
cies, Resurgence of Tabula Rasa, and Perpetuation of
Racial Problems (81-98)
46. 2005/2
Meisenberg, G., “Genes for Intelligence:” A Review of
Recent Progress (139-164).
46. 2006/4
Meisenberg, G., E. Lawless, E. Lambert, A. Newton,
Determinants of Mental Ability on a Caribbean Island,
and the Mystery of the Flynn Effect (273-312). -
Mackey, W. C., R. S. Immerman, Whither Lithuania
and Japan? Canaries in the Mine or Outliers of Evolu-
tionary Change? (313-335).
Max Planck Institute for Social
Anthropology. Working Papers (Halle)
2005/73
Kehl-Bodrogi, K., Religibse Heilung und Heiler in
Choresm, Usbekistan (2-30).
2005/74
Diallo, Y., From Stability to Uncertainty. A Recent
Political History of Cote d’Ivoire (3-25).
2005/75
Dea, D., Christianity and Spirit Mediums: Experiencing
Post-Socialist Religious Freedom in Southern Ethiopia
(2-27).
2005/79
King, A. D., Genuine and Spurious Dance Forms in
Kamchatka, Russia (1-19).
2005/80
Eckert, J., The Trimurti of the State: State Violence and
the Promises of Order and Destruction (1-29).
2006/82
Hbhne, M. V., Traditional Authorities in Northern So-
malia: Transformation of Positions and Powers (1-28).
Anthropos 101.2006
696
Zeitschriftenschau
Mitteilungen der Anthropologischen
Gesellschaft in Wien (Horn)
134-135. 2005
Wohlrab, S., B. Fink, P. M. Kappeier, Menschlicher
Körperschmuck aus evolutionärer Perspektive - Diver-
sität und Funktionen von Tätowierungen, Piercings und
Skarifizierungen (1-10). - Mückler, H., Die Haartracht
der fidschianischen Häuptlinge - Ein Beitrag zum The-
ma Körperschmuck (135-149). - Eberhard, I., “We
Are Mäori and We Are Proud” - Zwischen kultureller
Renaissance und kirituhi. Untersuchungen zu Identitäts-
konstrukten am Beispiel von Tätowierungen der Mäori
[tä moko] (151-163). - Wessel, A., Gute Narben,
schlechte Narben. Interpretation von Narben im Bis-
marckarchipel, Papua Neuguinea [Melanesien] (165 —
176). - Schifko, G., Das Moko im Spiegel von Jules
Vernes Romanen - Ein Beitrag zur ethnographischen
Rezeption und Imagologie der Maori in der Literatur
(177-190). - Girtler, R., Tätowierungen - ihre alte
Geschichte und ihr Reiz bei “feinen Leuten” und Gano-
ven (191-197).
Mitteilungen der Berliner Gesellschaft
für Anthropologie, Ethnologie und
Urgeschichte (Berlin)
26. 2005
Hardenberg, R. J., Ethnologische Feldforschung im
entlegenen Gebiet: Ein Beitrag zur Bedeutung der ethno-
grafischen Einführung (71-82). - Pashos, A., Mensch-
liche Partnerwahl aus evolutionärer und sozialer Per-
spektive (83-91). - Pfeffer, G., Sozialanthropologie als
vergleichende Gesellschaftswissenschaft vom Menschen
(93-101).
Mitteilungen für Anthropologie und
Religionsgeschichte (Münster)
17. 2005
Dupré, W., Heilig und Sakral als Aspekte religiöser
Identitätsbildung (153-173). - Häusling A., Konzep-
te religiöser Identität in der Zeit. Zur Kritik eines
Leitbegriffs menschlicher Lebenswirklichkeit(en) (175 —
198). - Meisig, K., Der Highgatehill Marugan-Tempel
in London-Archway. Ein Zentrum des Auswanderer-
Hinduismus (217-236). - Mertens, A., varna - ein
panindischer Identitätsbegriff? Zur Bedeutung des Vier-
Stände-Modells für die indischen Religionen (237-
270). - Merz-Benz, P.-U., Religiöse Gemeinschaft und
religiöse Vergemeinschaftung. Zur Bestimmung der Re-
ligion in den Werken der soziologischen Klassiker -
Ferdinand Tönnies, Emile Durkheim und Max Weber
(293-303). - Jeserich, F., Grenzgänger, Geisterseher,
Gurus und Gegenwelten. Das Postmortalitätsmodell des
Hollywoodfilms What Dreams May Come - ein reli-
gionswissenschaftlicher Re-Konstruktionsversuch (319—
389).
Monumenta Serica (Nettetal)
53. 2005
Wesolowski, Z., Understanding the Foreign (the West)
as a Remedy for Regaining One’s Own Cultural Iden-
tity (China): Liang Shuming’s (1893-1988) Cultural
Thought (361-399). - Santangelo, P., Evaluation of
Emotions in European and Chinese Traditions: Differ-
ences and Analogies (401-427).
Münchner Beiträge zur Völkerkunde
(München)
9. 2004
Khavari, M. A., Die schiitischen Standarten und ihre
historischen Vorläufer (177-223).
The Muslim World (Hartford)
95. 2005/4
Leonhard, K. I., Introduction: Young American Mus-
lim Identities (473-477). - Naber, N., Muslim First,
Arab Second: A Strategie Politics of Race and Gender
(479-495). - Karim, J., Between Immigrant Islam
and Black Liberation: Young Muslims Inherit Global
Muslim and African American Legacies (497-513). -
Ali, S., Why Here, Why Now? Young Muslim Women
Wearing Hijäb (515-530). - Chaudhry, L.N., Aisha
and Her Multiple Identities: Excerpts from Ethnographic
Encounters (551-556). - Al-Johar, D., Muslim Mar-
riages in America; Reflecting New Identities (557-
574). - Schmidt, G., The Transnational Umma - Myth
or Reality? Examples from the Western Diasporas (575-
586). - Abraham, N., From Baghdad to New York.
Young Muslims on War and Terrorism (587-599).
96. 2006/1
Bilici, M., The Fethullah Gülen Movement and Its Pol-
itics of Representation in Turkey (1-20). - Lizzio, K.,
The Naqshbandi/Saifiyya Battle for Islamic Tradition
(37-59). - Pemberton, K., Women Pirs, Saintly Suc-
cession, and Spiritual Guidance in South Asian Sufism
(61-87).
National Géographie (Hamburg)
2005/12
Garfinkel, P., S. McCurry, Die neue Welt des Buddha
(80-103).
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
697
Numen (Leiden)
52. 2005/3
Johnson, P. C., Savage Civil Religion (289-324). -
Hornborg, A. C., Eloquent Bodies: Rituals in the Con-
texts of Alleviating Suffering (356-394).
52. 2005/4
S0rensen, J., Religion in Mind: Review Article of the
Cognitive Science of Religion (465-494).
Oceania (Sydney)
75. 2005/4
Hermann, E., W. Kempf, Introduction to Relations
in Multicultural Fiji: The Dynamics of Articulations,
Transformations, andPositionings (309-324). - Abram-
son, A., Drinking to Mana and Ethnicity: Trajectories of
Yaqona Practice and Symbolism in Eastern Fiji (325-
341). - Dickhardt, M., Viti, the Soil from Eden; On
Historical Praxis as a Mode of Connecting in Kadavu
(342-353). - Trnka, S., Land, Life, and Labour: Indo-
Fijian Claims to Citizenship in a Changing Fiji (354-
367). - Kempf, W., E. Hermann, Reconfigurations
of Place and Ethnicity; Positionings, Performances, and
Politics of Relocated Banabans in Fiji (368-386). -
Emde, S., Feared Rumours and Rumours of Fear: The
Politicisation of Ethnicity during the Fiji Coup in May
2000 (387-402). - Cretton, V., Traditional Fijian
Apology as a Political Strategy (403-417). - Henry,
R., “Smoke in the Hills, Gunfire in the Valley:” War and
Peace in Western Highlands, Papua New Guinea (431 -
443). - Jorgensen, D., Third Wave Evangelism and the
Politics of the Global in Papua New Guinea: Spiritual
Warfare and the Recreation of Place in Telefolmin (444-
461).
Oral Tradition (Columbus)
20. 2005/2
Finnegan, R., The How of Literature (164-187). -
Gerstle, C. A., The Culture of Play: Kabuki and the
Production of Texts (188-216). - Foley, J. M., From
Oral Performance to Paper-Text to Cyber-Edition (233-
263). - Barber, K., Text and Performance in Africa
(264-277). - Burns, J., My Mother Has a Television,
Does Yours? Transformation and Secularization in an
Ewe Funeral Drum Tradition (300-319).
Paideuma (Stuttgart)
51. 2005
Thiel, F. J., Über die Mission zur Ethnologie (7-
21). - Zinser, H., Magie und Medizin (23-40). -
Kosel, S., Christian Mission in an Islande Environment:
Religious Conversion in North Sulawesi in the Light
of a Case-Study from Bolaang Mongondow (41-65). -
Langewiesche, K., Religiöse Mobilität. Konversionen
und religiöser Wandel in Burkina Faso (67-88). -
Geiger, T., Professionelle Erzähler bei den Kanuri in
der Tschadsee-Region. Lokale und internationale Per-
spektiven (89-109). - Balzer, C., The Great Drag
Queen Hype: Thoughts on Cultural Globalisation and
Autochthony (111-131). - Kämpf, H., Der Sinn fürs
Scheitern. Ethnologische Bekenntnisliteratur zwischen
Selbsterforschung und Selbstverlag (133-151). - Sie-
ger, B., Creating Time for Enjoyment, Creating Positive
Energy: Why Japan Rises Early (181-192). - Heijnen,
A., Dreams, Darkness, and Hidden Spheres; Exploring
the Anthropology of the Night in Icelandic Society
(193-207). - Schnepel, B., “In Sleep a King ...:” The
Politics of Dreaming in a Cross-Cultural Perspective
(209-220). - Hauser, B., Travelling through the Night:
Living Mothers and Divine Daughters at an Orissan
Goddess Festival (221-233). - Handelman, D., Epi-
logue; Dark Soundings - Towards a Phenomenology
of Night (247-261). - Schmidt, B. E., Brasilidade
und andere Kulturmodelle. Kulturkritische Blicke auf
Brasilien (263-275).
Philippine Quarterly of Culture and
Society (Cebu City)
32. 2004/3-4
Naerssen, T. van, Cebu City in the Global Arena:
Its Governance and Urban Development Policy (179—
202). - Saniel Amper, Z. H., Indigenous Development
Amid National Development: The Case of Mangrove
Reforestation in Banacon Island, Getafe, Bohol (237-
258).
33. 2005/1-2
Aure, B., C. M. Escabi-Ruiz, Tarsier Talk: Tarsiers,
Hunters, and Ecotourism in Corella, Bohol (76-99).
Praehistorische Zeitschrift (Berlín)
80. 2005/2
Kaul, F., Bronze Age Tripartite Cosmologies (135 —
148).
Publicación del CIFFyH (Córdoba)
4. 2004/3
Kaiser, S., Historias que (no) nos contaron: Memorias
del terror en la generación posdictadura (21-40). -
Solis, A. C., Humor contra la impunidad. La prensa
gráfica en la construcción de un marco democrático
[Argentina, 1982-1983] (41-58). - Anta Félez, J. L.,
La memoria de los campos de concentración (59-68). -
Sota, E., Memoria y representación social de los dere-
Anthropos 101.2006
698
Zeitschriftenschau
chos humanos (87-107). - Anderlini, S., Memorias de
la liberación (123-137).
Race and Class (London)
47. 2005/2
Gordon, A.F., Cedric Robinson’s Anthropology of
Marxism (23-38). - Quan, H.L. T., Geniuses of
Resistance: Feminist Consciousness and the Black Rad-
ical Tradition (39-53). - Santiago-Valles, K., Racial-
ly Subordinate Labour within Global Contexts: Robin-
son and Hopkins Re-Examined (54-70). - Tatum, T.,
Reflections on Black Marxism (71-76). - Plummer,
B. G., On Cedric Robinson and Black Marxism: A View
from the US Academy (111-114).
47. 2006/3
Mathur, S., Surviving the Dragnet: “Special Interest”
Detainees in the US after 9/11 (31-46).
47. 2006/4
Amato, S., Quai Branly Museum : Representing France
after Empire (46-65).
Recherches amérindiennes au Québec
(Montreal)
35. 2005/2
Maligne, O., La matière du rêve : Matériaux, objets,
arts et techniques dans les pratiques indianophiles (39-
48). - Sabev, D., La modernité de la tradition : Une
analyse de la géométrie culturelle dans “Nous, les
Premières Nations,” Musée de la civilisation, Québec
(49-60).
Religiáo e Cultura (Sao Paulo)
8. 2005
Beozzo, J. O., Vaticano II e as transformadas culturáis
na América Latina e no Caribe (57-102).
Religión and Society (Bangalore)
51. 2006/1
Jha, V., M. I. Ali, Atrocities on Dalits in Haryana
and Rajasthan - A Comparative Study: Religión as
Oppressive (43-58).
Revista Andina (Cusco)
41. 2005/2
Gundermann, H., J. I. Vergara, R. Foerster, La ad-
scripción étnica de los pueblos andinos de Chile anal-
izada a través de las cifras censales de 1992 y 2002
(9-61). - La Riva González, P., Las representaciones
del animu en los Andes del sur peruano (63-88). -
Presta, A. M., Devoción cristiana, uniones consagradas
y elecciones materiales en la construcción de identidades
indígenas urbanas, Charcas, 1550-1650 (109-130). -
Mould de Pease, M., Machu Picchu: Un rompecabezas
para armar (199-220).
Revista Anthropológicas (Pemambuco)
15. 2004/2
Naase, K. M., Impact and Visibility: Challenges for
Development Cooperation in Times of Globalization (7 -
28). - Baines, S., Antropología do Desenvolvimen-
to e a questáo das sociedades indígenas (29-45). -
Wentzel, S., Complementando perspectivas “de fora”
e “de dentro:” Observares antropológicas sobre os
projetos voltados para povos indígenas do Programa
Piloto [PPG7] (47-83). - Moreira Lima, L., Diálogo
intercultural e participado indígena no PPTAL (85 —
105). - Schröder, P., E possível mudar a Funai? Sobre
os impactos de um projeto de cooperado internacional
(107-134). - Rizzo de Oliveira, A. L., Projeto Carajás,
prácticas indigenistas e os povos indígenas no Maranháo
(135-169). - Macedo e Castro, J. P., Da favela á
comunidade: Formas de classificaqáo e identificado de
populares no Rio de Janeiro (171-198). - Schröder,
P., Antropología do Desenvolvimento: Urna bibliografía
introdutória (199-225).
16. 2005/1
Pessoa Souto Maior, H., Dürkheim e a Familia: Da
“introduqáo á sociología da familia” á “familia conjugal”
(7-30). - Andersen Sarti, C., “Deixarás pai e máe:”
Notas sobre Lévi-Strauss e a familia (31-52). - Lan-
na, M., A nodo de “casa;” Consideradas a partir de
R. Firth e dos Tikopia (53-86). - Fensterseifer Woort-
mann, E., Método comparativo, familia e parentesco;
Algumas discussoes e perspectivas (87-108). - Hita,
M. G., A familia em Parsons: Pontos, contrapontos e
a perspectiva de modelos alternativos (109-148). -
Chambliss Hoffnagel, J., A familia na obra de Emilio
Willems (149-170). - Reis Itaboraí, N., A familia
colonial e a construdo do Brasil: Vida doméstica e iden-
tidade nacional em Gilberto Freyre, Sérgio Buarque de
Holanda e Néstor Duarte (171-196). - Couto, M. T.,
Estudos de familias populares urbanas e a articulado
com género (197-215). - Scott, P., A familia brasileña
diante de transformados no cenário histórico global
(217-242).
Revista Europea de Estudios
Latinoamericanos y del Caribe
(Amsterdam)
79. 2005
Korovkin.T., Creating a Social Wasteland? Non-Tra-
ditional Agricultural Exports and Rural Poverty in
Ecuador (47-67). - Morales Barragán, F., Institu-
ciones y innovación: La experiencia del grupo K’NAN
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
699
CHOCH en Chiapas, México (69-84). - Biekart, K.,
Seven Theses on Latin American Social Movements
and Political Change: A Tribute to André Gunder
Frank [1929-2005] (85-94). - Panizza, F.E., The
Social Democratization of the Latin American Left
(95-103). - Corrales, J., In Search of a Theory
of Polarization; Lessons from Venezuela, 1999-2005
(105-118).
80. 2006
Chaves, M., M. Zambrano, From blanqueamiento
to reindigenización: Paradoxes of mestizaje and Mul-
ticulturalism in Contemporary Colombia (5-23). -
Schwarcz, L. M., A Mestizo and Tropical Country: The
Creation of the Official Image of Independent Brazil
(25-42).
Revue de l’Histoire des Religions (Paris)
222. 2005/2
Macé, A., Propos sur le feu au pays du vodu. Un
pont entre hommes et dieux en Afrique (131-176). -
Toffin, G., La forêt dans l’imaginaire des populations
de l’Himalaya népalais (177-207).
222. 2005/4
Gaborieau, M., Un sanctuaire soufi en Inde: Le dargâh
de Nizamuddin à Delhi (529-555).
Seminar (New Delhi)
2005/553
Jaitly, J., Crafts as Industry (14-18). - McNulty,
R. H., Culture and Solidarity (19-24). - Howkins, J.,
Enhancing Creativity (29-32). - Evans, S., Creative
Clusters (33-36). - Engelhardt, R. A., A Vector for
Sustainable Development (37-39). - Shaeffer, S., Cul-
tural Regeneration as Business (40-42). - Garzón, A.,
Economic Treaties and Cultural Trade (43-47).
Social Anthropology (Cambridge)
13. 2005/3
Bonhomme, J., Voir par-derrière. Sorcellerie, initiation
et perception au Gabon (259-273). - Pink, S., Dirty
Laundry. Everyday Practice, Sensory Engagement, and
the Constitution of Identity (275-290). - Gallinat, A.,
A Ritual Middle Ground? Personhood, Ideology, and
Resistance in East Germany (291-305). - Parkes, P.,
Milk Kinship in Islam. Substance, Structure, History
(307-329).
14. 2006/1
Argenti, N., U. Roschenthaler, Introduction: Between
Cameroon and Cuba: Youth, Slave Trades, and Translo-
cal Memoryscapes (33-47). - Argenti, N., Remem-
bering the Future: Slavery, Youth, and Masking in
the Cameroon Grassfields (49-69). - Roschenthaler,
U. , Translocal Cultures: The Slave Trade and Cul-
tural Transfer in the Cross River Region (71-91). -
Warmer, J.-P., The Transfer of Young People Working
Ethos from the Grassfields to the Atlantic Coast (93-
98). - Palmié, S., A View from itia ororó kande (99-
118).
Social Compass
(Ottignies Louvain-La-Neuve)
52. 2005/4
Beyer, P., Au croisement de l’identité et de la diffé-
rence : Les Syncrétismes culturo-religieux dans le con-
texte de la mondialisation (417-429). - Boyarín, D.,
V. Burrus, Hybridity as Subversion of Orthodoxy?
Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity (431-441). -
Boettcher, S. R., Post-Colonial Reformation? Hybridity
in 16th-Century Christianity (443-452). - Rey, T.,
Habitus et hybridité: Une interprétation du syncrétisme
dans la religion afro-catholique d’après Bourdieu (453-
462). - Droogers, A., Syncretism and Fundamentalism:
A Comparison (463-471). - Howell, J. D., Muslims,
the New Age, and Marginal Religions in Indone-
sia: Changing Meanings of Religious Pluralism (473
-493). - Ackerman, S. E., Falun Dafa and the New
Age Movement in Malaysia: Signs of Health, Symbols
of Salvation (495-511). - Okechukwu Onah, S.,
J. Leman, Cosmological and Religious Fundamentals
among Igbo Immigrants in Belgium: The Way Out of
Segregation (513-527).
53. 2006/1
Stolz, J., Salvation Goods and Religious Markets: Inte-
grating Rational Choice and Weberian Perspectives (13-
32). - Bruce, S., Les Limites du “marché religieux”
(33-48). - Pace, E., Salvation Goods, the Gift Econ-
omy, and Charismatic Concern (49-64). - Bastían,
J.-P., La nouvelle économie religieuse de l’Amérique
latine (65-80). - Burger, M., What Price Salvation?
The Exchange of Salvation Goods between India and
the West (81-95). - Mayer, J.-F., Biens de salut
et marché religieux dans le cultic milieu (97-108). -
Saroglou, V., Religious Bricolage as a Psychological
Reality: Limits, Structures, and Dynamics (109-115). -
Christians, L.-L., Religious Bricolage in a Legal Per-
spective between Aporia and Inescapability (117-123).
Sociedade e Cultura (Goiânia)
6. 2003/1
Knauer, L. M., Remesas multi-direccionales y ethno-
grafía viajera (13-24). - Barbosa da Silva, A., Sobre
o compromisse do antropólogo e seu papel de me-
diador cultural (25-36). - Reis Mota, F., Entre a
açâo e a intervençâo: Poder e conflitos na produçâo
de identidades coletivas (37-46). - Lewis, L., Dados
Anthropos 101.2006
700
Zeitschriftenschau
etnográficos de presentas estrangeiras: Intervengoes de
urna antropóloga no trabalho com crianzas refugiadas
na Inglaterra (47-58). - Menezes Simáo, L. de, Os
mediadores do patrimonio imaterial (59-70). - Araújo
Pinho, O. de, Urna experiencia de etnografía crítica:
Rana, género e sexualidade na periferia do Rio de Ja-
neiro (71-84). - Freire Rodrigues, F. X., A sociología
do trabalho e a sociologia do futebol; Urna análise da
flexibiliza^áo das relaces de trabalho no futebol brasi-
leiro [2001-2003] (85-97). - Martins, A. F., Aventura
de Georges Méliés dans la lune (99-110).
6. 2003/2
Souza, J. L. de, O despertar da fénix: A educanáo es-
colar como espado de afirmanáo da identidade étnica
Kinikinau em Mato Grosso do Sul (149-156). - Arias,
N. J., Os toba da Argentina: Processos de organizado
(157-166). - Pacheco de Oliveira, J., O efeito “túnel
do tempo” e a suposta inautenticidade dos indios atuais
(167-175). - Dal Poz, J., A etnia como sistema: conta-
to, fricfáo e identidade no Brasil indígena (177-188). -
Silva Réses, E. da, Do conhecimento sociológico á teo-
ría das representares sociais (189-199). - Miranda,
E., Globaliza^áo financeira e associa^óes de bancos no
Brasil; O caso da Febraban (201-214).
7. 2004/1
Vaquero, M., M. S. Souza Amorim, Cultura política
fragmentada: O papel do capital social na democrati-
zaqao brasileira (9-20). - Sousa Bonfim, W. L., M.
Alves de Oliveira, J. Bezerra das Santos, Decentrali-
zanáo, participando e esfera pública: Reflexóes sobre a
literatura com base no caso de Terezina, Piauí (21-
35). - Bezerra dos Santos, J., Pos-estruturalismo,
religido e democracia: Notas sobre aportes teóricos do
deslocamento do político para a subjetividade (37-
47). - Leopoldi, J. S., As relees de género entre
os canadores-coletores (61-73). - Torres do Araújo,
O. J., Modemidade, religiosidade e estilo de vida: Um
estudo acerca das manifestares religiosas no planalto
central do Brasil (89-106). - Freitas, C., A inteligéncia
artificial e os desafios as ciéncias sociais (107-121).
7. 2004/2
Ciarallo, G., A sobrevivéncia da matriz escravocrata e
a modernizando seletiva do Brasil (127-137). - Per-
ruso, M. A., Intelectuais, movimentos sociais e pensa-
mento social brasileiro (139-150). - Jacquet, C., L.
Fialho da Costa, As práticas educativas ñas familias
recompostas: Notas preliminares (179-189). - Alves de
Equino, J., Socializando e política (191-205). - Souza,
R. L. de, Populismo, mobilizanao e reforma (237-246).
8. 2005/1
Farias, E., Faces de urna festa-espetáculo; Redes e
diversidades na montagem do ciclo junino em Caruaru
(7-28). - Alves Couceira, L. A., Peculiaridades em co-
mum: Vida social em B. Malinowski, C. Lévi-Strauss e
E. P. Thompson (29-41). - Horta Nunes, J., Neutrali-
dade ou impregnando teórica na observando: Implicanoes
metodológicas ñas ciéncias sociais (43-52). - Neubert,
L. F., N. Aguiar, Um estudo da percepnao de usos
do tempo sob a perspectiva de gènero Màrcio Ferreria
de Souza (53-69). - Freire Rodrigues, F. X., Pierre
Bourdieu: Esquema analítico e contribuindo para urna
teoria do conhecimento na sociologia do esporle (111-
125). - Osório, A., Bruxas modernas na rede virtual: A
internet como espano de sociabilidade e disputas entre
praticantes de Wicca no Brasil (127-139).
8. 2005/2
Tamaso, I., A expansao do patrimonio: Novos olhares
sobre velhos objetos, outros desafios [Laudos culturáis
dos antropólogos inventariantes] (13-36). - Abreu,
R., Quando o campo é o patrimonio: Notas sobre
participando dos antropólogos ñas questóes do patri-
monio (37-52). - Vianna, L., O caso do registro
da viola-de-cocho como patrimonio imaterial (53-
62). - Cavignac, J. A., M. I. Dantas, Sistema ali-
mentar e patrimonio imaterial: O chourino do Seridó
(63-78). - Proenna Leite, R., Patrimonio e consumo
cultural em cidades enobrecidas (79-89). - Botelho,
T. R., L. Teixeira de Andrade, Cidade e patrimonio: O
tombamento na percepnao dos proprietários de imóveis
em Belo Horizonte (91-101). - Ferreria Delgado, A.,
Museu e memoria biográfica: Um estudo da casa de Cora
Coralina (103-117). - Ledo, C., A. F. Borghi Leite,
Caracterizando de atividades informáis - O comércio
de rúa de Goiánia (119-130). - Pizarro, M,, Imagens
do corpo e embodiment das imagens: A circulando da
imagem corporal em urna perspectiva histórica (artística)
e antropológica [estética] (131-141). - Comin de Car-
valho, A. P., O memorial dos lanceiros negros: Disputas
simbólicas, configuranóes de identidades e relances in-
terétnicas no sul do Brasil (143-152).
Sociologies (Berlin)
55. 2005/1
Eiwert, G., Fragmente zu einer Konflikttheorie als In-
strument des Gesellschaftsvergleichs (9-37). - Aijmer,
G., Women, Kitchen, and Belonging in Eastern China
- Idioms of Continuity in Kaixiangong (39-59). -
Krings, M., Verführung oder Bekehrung? Zensur und
Islam in nordnigerianischen Videodiskursen (61-88). -
Seesemann, R., Islamism and the Paradox of Secular-
ization: The Case of Islamist Ideas on Women in the
Sudan (89-118).
55. 2005/2
Dorsch, H., M. Scholze, Erfahrungen mit beweglichen
Zielen - Anmerkungen zur Ethnographie unter Bedin-
gungen der Globalisierung (143-179). - Eckert, J.,
The Trimurti of the State: State Violence and the Promis-
es of Order and Destruction (181-217). - Scherer,
C., Scrutinizing the Public. Notes on Artistic Practice,
Social Agency, and the Localization of Perception; The
Case of “Surprise Art Centre” in Zimbabwe (219—
238). - Waldmann, P., The Radical Community: A
Comparative Analysis of the Social Background of ETA,
IRA, and Hezbollah (239-257).
Anthropos 101.2006
Zeitschriftenschau
701
South Asia Research (New Delhi)
25. 2005/2
Wardhaugh, J., The Jungle and the Village: Discourses
on Crime and Deviance in Rural North India (129-
140). - Munck, V. C. de, Sakhina: A Study of Female
Masculinity in a Sri Lankan Muslim Community (141 —
164).
26. 2006/1
Mohan, S., Narrativizing Oppression and Suffering;
Theorizing Slavery (5-40). - Percot, M., Indian Nurses
in the Gulf: Two Generations of Female Migration (41-
62).
Spiritus (Paris)
181/2005
Gallego, M., Des femmes actrices de paix en Colombie.
“La Ruta Pacífica” et une ONG qui soutient les femmes
victimes de la guerre en Colombie (393-396). - Gui-
bila, J.-P., Le remède à l’incendie ... Pour assurer la
paix, opter pour de armées différentes de celles des
belligérants (397-402). - Kituba, A., L’éducation de
la jeunesse : Une alternative pour la paix en Afrique.
Éducation et instruction de la jeunesse, armes pour
une révolution pacifique et durable en Afrique (403-
408). - Ackerman, L., Solidarité avec les femmes en
détresse. Épauler les femmes victimes de trafics illégaux
et dénoncer les incohérences des politiques nationales
(409-411). - Duteil, A., Pour retrouver l’espérance,
vivre en communauté. Recréer des liens et du tissu
social, protéger les plus faibles, éduquer, remettre au
travail (412-422).
Temenos (Helsinki)
41. 2005 /2
Knott, K., Special Theory and Method for the Study
of Religion (155 —184). - Anttonen, V., Space, Body,
and the Notion of Boundary: A Category-Theoretical
Approach to Religion (185-201). - Kunin, S., Neo-
Structuralism and the Contestation of Sacred Place
in Biblical Israel (203-224). - Kong, L., Religious
Processions. Urban Politics and Poetics (225-249). -
Hager, A., Visual Representations of Christianity in
Christian Music Videos (251-274).
Tsantsa (Basel)
10/2005
Levinson, B. A. U., Bringing in the Citizen. Culture,
Politics, and Democracy in the US Anthropology of
Education (35-48). - Streissler, A. I., “Nicht flir
die Schule, für das Leben lemen wir”. Das “Hidden
Curriculum” von Preparatorias in Guadalajara, Mexi-
ko (49-57). - Bush, M.E.L., Social Norms, Racial
Narratives, and the Mission of Public Education (58-
69). - Waldis, B., Staatlich verordnete Scheuklappen.
Das universalistische Prinzip in Schule von La Réunion
(70-82). - Heid, M., Lebenswelt Klassenzimmer.
Überlegungen zur ethnographischen Methode im For-
schungsfeld Schule (83-94). - Jost, S. C., “Wir machen
grad die Indianer, können wir einmal vorbeikom-
men?” Das ethnographische Museum als ausserschu-
lischer Lemort. Reflexionen zu Popularität und Popu-
larisierung von Ethnologie (95-104). - Bertels, U.,
S. Eylert, Die Vermittlung interkultureller Kompetenz
in der Schule. Ein ethnologischer Ansatz (111-122). -
Kaufmann, M. E., “Mama lernt Deutsch.” Ein Deutsch-
kurs als transkultureller Übergangsraum (123-134). -
Granada, S., Palu - eine Metapher im Alltag Abi-
djans [Côte d’Ivoire] (157-161). - Martin, H., Les
métamorphoses d’un objet de recherche anthropolo-
gique. Commerçantes et artisanes indépendantes dans la
région d’Agadir (12-166). - Monsutti, A., Beyond the
Boundaries. A Methodological Perspective on Afghan
Migratory Networks in the Western Countries (167-
171). - Mulugeta, A., Resource Based Conflict Fram-
ing among the Kereyu in the Upper and Middle Awash
Valley of Ethiopia (172-175). - Tolivia, S., Autour de
la relance d’une production. Entre la formation d’une
communauté de pratique et les dynamiques de sociabilité
(176-180). - Wenk, L, Bounded Spaces of Coexis-
tence. Land Titling and Settlers on Indigenous Domains
in Mindanao, the Philippines (181-185).
Die Waage (Aachen)
44. 2005
Schivelbusch, W., Von Kaffee und Opium. Genussmit-
tel als Gifte (52-58). - Eikermann, E., Toxikologische
Expertinnen. Frauen als Giftmischerinnen (60-67). -
Jütte, R., “Trinck das in, so würst du dann schlaffen ...”
Schmerz-, Schlaf- und Betäubungsmittel in Mittelalter
und Früher Neuzeit (68-73). - Vasold, M., “I Gave
Hirn a Gift.” Gifte in Literatur, Sprache und Umwelt
(74-77). - Jekubzik, G. H., “Gift für zwei Personen,
bitte” - Kino-Gift, blondes Gift und andere tödliche
Mittelchen (78-84). - Beerhues, L., Gifte der Natur.
Pflanzen und Tiere Lateinamerikas (86-93).
Zeitschrift für Ethnologie (Berlin)
130. 2005/1
Köpping, K.-P., The Fieldworker as Performative
Flaneur; Some Thoughts on Postmodemism and the
Transfiguration of Doing Anthropology (1-22). - Got-
towik, V., Der Ethnologe als Fremder. Zur Genealo-
gie einer rhetorischen Figur (25-44). - Weißköppel,
G., Kreuz und quer. Zur Theorie und Praxis der
Multi-Sited-Ethnography (45-68). - Hardenberg, R.,
Mädchenhäuser, Schöpfung und Empfängnis. Kulturelle
Konstruktion der Geschlechter bei den Dongria Kond
Anthropos 101.2006
702
Zeitschriftenschau
[Indien/Orissa] (69-98). - Duelke, B., Über eine
Thematisierung des Möglichen (99-125).
130. 2005/2
Basu, H., Geister und Sufis: Translokale Konstellationen
des Islam in der Welt des Indischen Ozeans (169—
193). - Adams, M., Agency and Control in Masked
Festivals among the Bo People, Southwestem Côte
dTvoire (195-221). - Lang, H., The Farm System
of the Rehoboth Basters (Namibia). The Situation in
1999/2000 (223-243). - Lenz, B., Matrilinearität, Mo-
dernität und Mobilität. Migration von Frauen bei den
Minangkabau (245-271). - Lauser, A., Transnatio-
nale Subjekte zwischen Deutschland und Philippinen.
Ethnologische Perspektiven am Beispiel philippinischer
Heiratsmigration (273 - 292).
Zeitschrift für Religions- und
Geistesgeschichte (Köln)
57. 2005/4
Niemeyer, C., Jugendbewegung und Nationalsozialis-
mus (337-365).
Zeitschrift für Religionswissenschaft
(Marburg)
13. 2005/2
Gebhardt, W., M. Engelbrecht, C. Bochinger, Die
Selbstermächtigung des religiösen Subjekts. Der “spi-
rituelle Wanderer” als Idealtypus spätmodemer Religio-
sität (133-151). - Wohlrab-Sahr, M., U. Karstein, C.
Schaumburg, “Ich würd’ mir das offenlassen”. Agnos-
tische Spiritualität als Annäherung an die “große Trans-
zendenz” eines Lebens nach dem Tode (153-173). -
Schetsche, M., I. Schmied-Knittel, Zwischen Prag-
matismus und Transzendenz. Außergewöhnliche Er-
fahrungen in der Gegenwart (175-191). - Ebertz,
M. N., “Spiritualität” im Christentum und darüber hin-
aus. Soziologische Vermutungen zur Hochkonjunktur
eines Begriffs (193-208).
Zentral-Asiatische Studien (Halle)
34. 2005
Ronge, V., Wo stehen die Frauen im tibetischen Hand-
werk? (231-268).
Anthropos 101.2006
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Prof. Dr. Christoph Antweiler
FB IV, Ethnologie
Universität Trier
D-54286 Trier
Germany
antweile@uni-trier.de
Dr. Julia Droeber
Al-Maktoum Institute for Arabic and Islamic Studies
124, Blackness Rd.
Dundee DD1 5PE
Great Britain
j uladr @ yahoo. com
Prof. Dr. Bettina Beer
Institut für Ethnologie
Universität Heidelberg
Sandgasse 7
D-69117 Heidelberg
Germany
Beer .Fischer @ t-online. de
Prof. Dr. T. O. Beidelman
Dept, of Anthropology
New York University
201 Rufus D. Smith Hall
25 Waverly Place
New York, NY 10003-6790
USA
Prof. Dr. Roberto Beneduce
Dept, of Anthropological Sciences
Via Giolitti 21 E
1-10123 Turin
Italy
roberto .beneduce @ uni to. it
Dr. Aleksandar Boskovic
V. Sime Popovica 2
11160 Belgrade
Serbia
bezuslovno@yahoo.co.uk
Prof. Dr. Gunther Dietz
Dpto. de Antropología y Trabajo Social
Facultad de Sciencias de la Educación
Universidad de Granada
E-18071 Granada
Spain
gdietz@ugr.es
Yamina Dir, M.A.
Institut für Ethnologie Tübingen
Schloss
D-72070 Tübingen
Germany
y amina_dir @ uni. tuebingen. de
Dr. Eveline Duerr
School of Social Sciences
Auckland University of Technology
Private Bag 92 006
Auckland 1020
New Zealand
Eveline. Duerr @ aut. ac. nz
Stéphan Dugast
Dépt. Hommes, Natures, Sociétés
C.P. 135
Muséum national d’Histoire Naturelle
57, rue Cuvier
F-75231 Paris cedex 05
France
sdugast@mnhn.fr
Prof. Dr. Pierre Erny
6, Rue Victor Huen
F-8000 Colmar
France
Dr. Burkhard Ganzer
Heckmannufer 10
D-10997 Berlin
Germany
Burkhard.Ganzer@gmx.de
Alfredo Gonzalez-Ruibal, Ph.D.
925 Waverley St. Apt. 203
Palo Alto, CA 94301
USA
aruibal @ stanford.edu
Dr. Matthew Goodrum
Dept, of Science and Technological Studies
123 Lane Hall
Virginia Tech
Blacksburg, VA 24061
USA
mgoodrum@vt.edu
Anthropos 101.2006
704
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Dr. Katarina Greifeid
Mauerweg 10
D-60316 Frankfurt
Germany
greifeld @ gmx. de
PD. Dr. Hans P. Hahn
Ethnologie
Universität Bayreuth
D-95440 Bayreuth
Germany
Hans.Hahn@uni-bayreuth.de
Judith Lynne Hanna, Ph.D.
Senior Research Scholar
University of Maryland
8520 Thornden Terrace
Bethesda, MD 20817-6810
USA
j lhanna @ hotmail. com
Prof. Dr. Terence E. Hays
Dept, of Anthropology and Geography
Rhode Island College
Providence, RI 02908-1991
USA
THays@ric.edu
Prof. em. Mary W. Helms
407 N. Holden Rd.
Greensboro, NC 27410-5619
USA
Prof. Dr. Winfried Henke
Institut für Anthropologie
Johannes Gutenberg Universität
Saarstr. 21
D-55099 Mainz
Germany
henkew @ uni-mainz. de
PD. Dr. Ulrich van der Heyden
Dranweg 17a
D-13125 Berlin
Germany
hi 107dpp@ .rz.hu-berlin.de
Mme. Astrid de Hontheim
Centre d’Anthropologie Culturelle
Université Libre de Bruxelles
C.P. 124
Avenue Jeanne 44
B-1050 Bruxelles
Belgium
asdehont @ ulb.ac.be
PD. Dr. Annette Hornbacher
Institut für Ethnologie und Afrikanistik
Oettingerstr. 67
D-80538 München
Germany
Annette. Hornbacher @ web. de
Jana Igunma
Curator of Thai, Lao, and Cambodian Collections
APAC, The British Library
96, Euston Rd.
London NW1 2DB
United Kingdom
j ana. igunma @ bl. uk
Dr. Sylvia S. Kasprycki
Fasanenweg 4a
D-63674 Altenstadt
Germany
kaspry ky @ t-online. de
Dr. Wassilios Klein
Tilsiter Str. 9
D-53117 Bonn
Germany
wassilios .klein @ t-online. de
Prof. Dr. Per Kvaerne
Dept, of Cultural Studies
University of Oslo
P.O. Box 1010 Blindem
N-0315 Oslo
Norway
per .kvame @ iks .uio. no
Prof. Dr. David Hicks
Dept, of Anthropology
SUNY
Stony Brook, NY 11794-4364
USA
dhicks @ notes.ee. suny sb. edu
Philippe Laburthe-Tolra
Professeur émérite
35, avenue Victor Hugo
F-75116 Paris
France
labt@wanadoo.fr
Prof. Dr. Klaus Hock
Händelstr. 6
D-18069 Rostock
Germany
klaus.hock@uni-rostock.de
Dr. Marc Lenaerts
147, rue de Linthout
B-1200 Bruxelles
Belgium
mlenaert @ ulb. ac .be
Anthropos 101.2006
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
705
Osumaka Likaka, Ph.D.
Dept, of History
3094 FAB
Wayne State University
Detroit, MI 48202
USA
ad5221 @ wayne.edu
Prof. Dr. Mary N. MacDonald
Religious Studies Dept.
Le Moyne College
1419 Salt Springs Rd.
Syracuse, NY 13214
USA
Mnmacd@aol.com
Dr. Christian Meyer
Institut für Ethnologie
Johannes Gutenberg-Universität
D-55099 Mainz
Germany
chmeyer@uni-mainz.de
Dr. Udo Mischek
Konrad-Adenauer-Str. 48
D-37075 Göttingen
Germany
mi schek @ rz. uni. leipzig. de
Prof. Dr. Hermann Miickler
Institut für Kultur- und Sozialanthropologie
Universitätsgasse 7/NIG/IV
A-1010 Wien
Austria
hermann. mueckler @ uni vie. ac. at
Prof. Dr. Gerald F. Murray
Dept, of Anthropology
Turlington Hall
University of Florida
Gainesville, FL-32611
USA
murray@ufl.edu
Corinne Neudorfer, M.A.
FB IV, Ethnologie
Universität Trier
D-54286 Trier
Germany
neudorfe @ uni-trier.de
Prof. Dr. Nguyen Xuän Hien
Bouwlustlaan 18
2544JT The Hague
The Netherlands
nguyenxhien @ wanadoo.nl
Boris Nieswand
MPI für ethnologische Forschungen
Postfach 110351
D-06017 Halle/Saale
Germany
nieswand@eth.mpg.de
Matthias Österle, M.A.
Sömmeringstr. 17
D-50823 Köln
Germany
mOesterle @ web.de
Dr. Jacek J. Pawlik, SVD
Dom Misyiny Sw. Wojciecha
Kolonia 19
PL-14520 Pieniezno
Poland
pawlik@seminarium.org.pl
Prof. Dr. Eleanor Preston-Whyte
Centre for HIV/AIDS Network
University of Natal
Durham 4041
South Africa
preston w @ ukzn. ac. za
Prof. Dr. Neil Price
Dept, of Archeology, Conservation, and
Historical Studies
University of Oslo
P.O.Box 1008, Blindem
N-0315 Oslo
Norway
n.s.price@iakh.uio.no
Prof. Dr. Ludger Pries
Sozialwissenschaften
Universitatsstr. 150
D-44801 Bielefeld
Germany
ludger.pries@ruhr-uni-bochum.de
Dr. Eva Charlotte Raabe
Museum der Weltkulturen
Schaumainkai 29-37
D-60594 Frankfurt
Germany
eva-raabe @ stadt-frankfurt.de
Linda Rabben, Ph.D.
402 Lincoln Avenue
Takoma Park, MD 20912
USA
lrabben@igc.org
Anthropos 101.2006
706
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
Dr. Hans Reithofer
Institut für Ethnologie
Theaterplatz 15
D-37073 Göttingen
Germany
hreitho@gwdg.de
Dr. Bruno Richtsfeld
Staatliches Museum für Völkerkunde
Abt. Ost- und Innerasien
Maximilianstr. 42
D-80538 München
Germany
bruno.richtsfeld@extem.lrz-muenchen.de
Prof. Dr. Claude Rivière
7, allée du Mali
F-94260 Fresnes
France
claude.riviere94@wanadoo.fr
Dr. Alexander Rödlach, SVD
Anthropos Institut
Arnold-Janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
roedlach @ steyler.de
Dr. Lioba Rossbach de Olmos
Wingertsweg 18
D-65611 Niederbrechen
Germany
RossbachdeOlmos @ web.de
Prof. Dr. Josef Salmen, SVD
Missionshaus St. Gabriel
Gabrieler Str. 171
A-2340 Mödling
Austria
salmen @ steyler.at
Dr. Claude Savary
Rue de Vevey 19
CH-1630 Bulle
Switzerland
claudesavary@netscape.net
Dr. Rita Schäfer
Daimlerstr. 5
D-45133 Essen
Germany
Marx. S chaefer @ t-online. de
Michaela Schäuble
c/o Kulturwissenschaft, FB 9
Universität Bremen
Postfach 330440
D-28344 Bremen
Germany
michaela_schaeuble @ web.de
Dr. Bettina E. Schmidt
Theology Faculty Centre
41 St. Giles
Oxford, 0X1 3LW
United Kingdom
bettina. Schmidt @ theology. ox. ac .uk
Dr. Friederike Schneider
Bergstr. 9
D-66687 Wadern
Germany
fSchneider @ internet-treff- sb.de
Dr. Sylvia M. Schomburg-Scherff
Kurhessenstr. 57
D-60431 Frankfurt
Germany
Schomburg-Scherff@em.uni-frankfurt.de
Dr. Peter Schröder
UFPE
Programa de Pós-Gradua^ào em Antropologia
Cidade Universitaria
Av. Prof. Moraes Règo, 1.235, 13° andar
50.670-901 Recife - PF
Brazil
pschroder@uol.com.br
Prof. Dr. Susanne Schröter
Südostasienkunde
Universität Passau
Innstr. 43
D-94032 Passau
Germany
SuSchroet@aol.com
Dr. Hildegard Schürings
Imbuto e.V.
Lahnstr. 7
D-35112 Fronhausen
Germany
h. schuring s @ t-online. de
Elisabeth Schwarzer, M.A.
Kaiserin-Augusta-Str. 75
D-12103 Berlin
Germany
werkstethno @ arcor.de
Dr. Dagmar Siebelt
Kölnstr. 446
D-53117 Bonn
Germany
Simona Taliani, Ph.D.
Dept, of Anthropological Sciences
Via Giolitti 21 E
1-10123 Turin
Italy
simona.taliani @ unito .it
Anthropos 101.2006
Mitarbeiter dieses Heftes
707
Prof. Dr. Ursula Thiemer-Sachse
Altamerikanistik
Freie Universität Berlin
Rüdesheimer Str. 54-56
D-14197 Berlin
Germany
utslai @ zedat.fu-berlin.de
Prof. Dr. Christian Troll, SJ
Kolleg Sankt Georgen
Offenbacher Landstr. 224
D-60599 Frankfurt
Germany
troll @ st-georgen.uni-frankfurt.de
Mr. Diego Villar
CAEA
Laprida 1575, 4°-17
1425 Cap. Fed. Buenos Aires
Argentina
dvillar@fullzero.com.ar
Dr. Holly Wardlow
Dept, of Anthropology
University of Toronto
100 St. George Str.
Toronto, Ontario
Canada M5S 3G3
hwardlow @ chass .utoronto .ca
Dr. Bernhard Worrle
Wohlmutstr. 33/8
A-1020 Wien
Austria
bernhard_woerrle @ gmx. de
Prof. Dr. Hanspeter Znoj
Institut für Sozialanthropologie
Langgassstr. 49a
CH-3000 Bern 9
Switzerland
znoj ©ethno.uni.bede
Dr. Patricia Zuckerhut
Stuwerstr. 10/22
A-1020 Wien
Austria
patricia. zuckerhut @ tele2. at
Anthropos 101.2006
REVUE TRIMESTRIELLE PUBLIÉE PAR
LES ÉDITIONS DE L’ÉCOLE DES
HAUTES ÉTUDES EN SCIENCES
SOCIALES
DIFFUSION Volumen
VENTE au numéro en librairie
19 euros
RÉDACTION Laboratoire
d’anthropologie sociale,
52 rue du Cardinal-Lemoine
75005 Paris
Tel. (33) 01 44 27 17 30
Fax (33) 01 44 27 17 66
L.Homme@ehess.fr
179
juillet/ septembre
2006
L’HOMME
Revue française d’anthropologie
Des raisons du terrain
Vincent Debaene “Étudier des états de conscience”.
La réinvention du terrain par l’ethnologie, 1925-1939
Mahir Çaul Le fanga comme savoir et destinée.
Signification sociale de la réussite personnelle au Soudan occidental
Bernard Formoso Les montagnards et l’État
en Asie du Sud-Est continentale
Marc Lenaerts Ontologie animique, ethnosciences
et universalisme cognitif: le regard ashéninka
Jacques Galinier L’anthropologie hors des limites de la simple raison.
Actualité de la dispute entre Kant et Herder
Alain Testart La question du sujet dans la parenté
*
En question
M.-CI. Casper, Fr. Granet & Ch.-H. Pradelles de Latour
Choisir un nom de famille...
Une approche pluridisciplinaire des implications de la réforme du nom
À propos
Francis Affergan Caraïbe.
Logiques de la diversité ou sociétés impossibles ?
Débat
Luc Bouquiaux Les Pygmées Aka, victimes de l'afrocentrisme ?
Anth ropos
Internationale Zeitschrift
für Völker- und Sprachenkunde
International Review of
Anthropology and Linguistics
Revue Internationale
d’Ethnologie et de Linguistique
ANTHROPOS INSTITUT
101.2006
ANTHROPOS
ANTHROPOS® is published twice a year totalling
ca. 700 pages.
MANUSCRIPTS and BOOKS to be reviewed should be
addressed to: Anthropos-Redaktion, Amold-Janssen-Str. 20,
D-53754 Sankt Augustin, Germany.
SUBSCRIPTION rate per year: 180sfr/120€ (postage
not included). Address all communication regarding sub-
scription and back issues to: Editions St-Paul, P.O. Box
176, Pérolles 42, CH-1705 Fribourg, Switzerland.
One may subscribe to the ANTHROPOS directly through
its official distributor Editions St-Paul, through one of the
agencies listed below, or any bookseller.
Germany: Otto Harrasowitz
Subscription Agents
65174 Wiesbaden
Dokumente Verlag, Postfach 1340,
77654 Offenburg
France: EBSCO Information Services
Rue de la Prairie - Villebon sur Yvette
91763 Palaiseau Cedex
Netherlands: Sweets Blackwell B.V.
P.O. Box 830
2160 SZ Lisse
U.S.A.: EBSCO Industrials, P.O. Box 1943,
Birmingham, AL 35201-1943
Copyright © 2006 by the Anthropos Institute. All rights reserved,
oo Printed on acid-free, archival-quality paper
Sponsored by the Society of the Divine Word (SVD)
Printed in Switzerland
Editor:
Anthropos Institut
Othmar Gächter (Editor-in-Chief)
Joachim Piepke
Anton Quack (Review Editor)
Editorial Office:
Anthropos-Redaktion
Amold-Janssen-Str. 20
D-53754 Sankt Augustin
Germany
Tel: 02241-2371
Fax: 02241-237491
E-mail: anthropos@steyler.de
http ://w w w. anthropos-j oumal. de
Publisher:
Editions St-Paul, P.O. Box 176,
Pérolles 42, CH-1705 Fribourg
Switzerland
Tel: 026-4264331
Fax; 026-4264330
E-mail: info@paulusedition.ch
http://www.paulusedition.ch
Payment:
Freiburger Kantonalbank
01.10/040.509-18
Mastercard
Visa
American Express
ISSN 0257-9774
Anthropos 101.2006
AUTORENINDEX
Artikel
Adams, Monni: Inherited Rules and New Proce-
dures in Three Trials in Canton Bo, Southwestern
Côte d’Ivoire................................
el-As wad, el-Sayed: The Dynamics of Identity
Reconstruction among Arab Communities in the
United States................................
Bah, Njakoi John: cf.. Gufler, Hermann, and
Njakoi John Bah
Beneduce, Roberto, and Simona Taliani: Em-
bodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies. Spirit Pos-
session, Sickness, and the Search for Wealth of
Nigerian Immigrant Women ....................
Christie, Jessica Joyce: Inca Copacabana. A Re-
construction from the Perspective of the Carved
Rocks .......................................
Córdoba, Lorena: Ideología, simbolismo y rela-
ciones de género en la construcción de la persona
chacobo .....................................
Dugast, Stéphan : Des sites sacrés à incendier.
Feux rituels et bosquets sacrés chez les Bwaba
du Burkina Faso et les Bassar du Togo ....
González-Ruibal, Alfredo: Order in a Disor-
dered World. The Bertha House (Western Ethi-
opia) .......................................
Gufler, Hermann, and Njakoi John Bah: The
Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku,
Cameroon. An Enhancement of Traditional Cul-
ture or Its Adulteration?....................
Haddad, John: “To Inculcate Respect for the
Chinese.” Berthold Laufer, Franz Boas, and the
Chinese Exhibits at the American Museum of
Natural History, 1899-1912 ................
Harnischfeger, Johannes: Islamisation and Eth-
nic Conversion in Nigeria....................
Hazel, Robert : Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans
les systèmes de classes d’âge de l’Afrique de
l’Est .......................................
Helms, Mary W.: Joseph the Smith and the
Salvational Transformation of Matter in Early
Medieval Europe .............................
Hontheim, Astrid de : Un chapelet sur le ca-
ducée. Tentatives d’évangélisation catholique et
protestante des Asmat (Papouasie occidentale) .
Izidoro, José Luiz: A Religiosidade popular na
cultura caiçara. A Festa do Divino Espirito Santo
em Iguape ...................................
Kronenfeld, David B.: Issues in the Classifica-
tion of Kinship Terminologies. Toward a New
Typology..................................... 203
Lang, Bernhard: Israels Religionsgeschichte aus
ethnologischer Sicht......................... 99
Lenaerts, Marc : “Le jour où Pâwa, notre Père
à tous, a abandonné la terre ...” Le bricolage
religieux chez les Ashéninka de 1’Ucayali ... 541
Likaka, Osumaka: Colonial Response to Popu-
lation Depletion in Early Congo, ca. 1890-1936 403
Meyer, Christian: “Tranca Ruas schlachtete sei-
ne Katze, wollte aber nicht alleine essen ...”
Deixis, Ritualgesänge und die Glaubwürdigkeit
der Geistverkörperung in der brasilianischen Um-
banda .......................................... 529
Nguyen Xuân Hiên: Betel-Chewing in Vietnam.
Its Past and Current Importance ................ 499
Quack, Anton: 100 Years of Anthropos .... 3
Richtsfeld, Bruno J.: Geburt und Jugend des
Helden im Gesar-Epos der Monguor (VR China,
Provinz Qinghai) ............................... 473
Taliani, Simona: cf. Beneduce, Roberto, and
Simona Taliani
Tonah, Steve: Diviners, Malams, God, and the
Contest for Paramount Chiefship in Mamprugu
(Northern Ghana) .......................... 21
Virtanen, Pirjo Kristiina: The Urban Manchin-
ery Youth and the Social Capital in Western Ama-
zonian Contemporary Rituals................ 159
Berichte und Kommentare
Antweiler, Christoph, und Corinne Neudorfer:
Ethnologie in Text und Bild. Zum “dtv-Atlas der
Ethnologie” ................................... 578
Boskovic, Aleksandar: Balkan Ghosts Revisited.
Racism - Serbian Style......................... 559
Dannhaeuser, Norbert: Economic Systems of
Foraging, Agricultural, and Industrial Societies 233
Ganzer, Burkhard: Power vs. Consent in Tribal
Political Systems in Iran: Salzman on the Basseri
Khan. Comments on an Extreme View........... 564
Hicks, David: How Friarbird Got His Helmet.
Some Novel Features in an Eastern Indonesian
Narrative...................................... 570
Hornbacher, Annette: Medium oder Message?
Wayang Kulit zwischen Technik und Kunst . . 575
9
111
429
179
145
413
379
55
123
37
81
451
519
169
Anthropos 101.2006
712
Autorenindex (R)
Neudorf er, Corinne: cf. Antweiler, Christoph,
und Corinne Neudorfer
Pandian, Jacob: Syncretism in Religion . . .
Riese, Berthold: Drei neue Maya-Hieroglyphen
Kataloge ...................................
Schmidt, Andrea E.: cf. Wolfradt, Uwe, An-
drea E. Schmidt, und Swetlana Solvana
Solvana, Swetlana: cf. Wolfradt, Uwe, Andrea
E. Schmidt, und Swetlana Solvana
Wolfradt, Uwe, Andrea E. Schmidt, und Swet-
lana Solvana: Männlichkeit und Weiblichkeit.
Wahrgenommene soziale Akzeptanz bei jungen
Kalmyken ...................................
Rezensionen
Aijmer, Göran: New Year Celebrations in Cen-
tral China in Late Imperial Times. Hong Kong
2003. 180pp. (Lars Peter Laamann)...........
Allman, Jean (ed.): Fashioning Africa. Power
and the Politics of Dress. Bloomington 2004.
247 pp. (Rita Schäfer) .....................
Amesberger, Helga, Katrin Auer, und Brigitte
Halbmayr: Sexualisierte Gewalt. Weibliche Er-
fahrungen in NS-Konzentrationslagern. Wien
2004. 359 pp. (Patricia Zuckerhut)..........
Antoun, Richard T.: Documenting Transnation-
al Migration. Jordanian Men Working and Study-
ing in Europe, Asia, and North America. New
York 2005. 325 pp. (Julia Droeber) .........
Arens, Werner, und Hans-Martin Braun: Die
Indianer Nordamerikas. Geschichte, Kultur, Re-
ligion. München 2004. 127 pp. (Dagmar Siebelt)
Ashforth, Adam: Witchcraft, Violence, and De-
mocracy in South Africa. Chicago 2005. 396 pp.
(T. O. Beidelman) ..........................
Bajalijewa, Toktobjubju D.: Vorislamische
Glauben der Kirgisen. Berlin 2002. 120 pp. (Julia
Droeber) ...................................
Barnard, Timothy P.: Multiple Centres of Au-
thority. Society and Environment in Siak and
Eastern Sumatra, 1674-1827. Leiden 2003. 206
pp. (Stefan Dietrich) ......................
Biardeau, Madeleine: Stories about Posts. Vedic
Variations around the Hindu Goddess. Chicago
2004. 358 pp. (Arvind Sharma) ..............
Bichler, Gabriele Ai’sha: Bejo, Curay und Bin-
Bim? Die Sprache und Kultur der Wolof im Sene-
gal. Frankfurt 2003. 401 pp. (Christian Meyer)
Bonnemere, Pascale (ed.): Women as Unseen
Characters. Male Ritual in Papua New Guinea.
Philadelphia 2004. 254 pp. (Holly Wardlow)
Bowen, John R.: Islam, Law, and Equality. An
Anthropology of Public Reasoning. Cambridge
2003. 289 pp. (Wolfgang Marschall)..........
Brown, Michael F.: Who Owns Native Culture?
Cambridge 2003. 315 pp. (Bernhard Wörrle)
Bsteh, Andreas, und Tahir Mahmood (Hrsg.):
Intoleranz und Gewalt. Erscheinungsformen,
Gründe, Zugänge. Mödling 2004. 186 pp. (Chris-
tian W. Troll) ............................. 590
Chibnik, Michael: Crafting Tradition. The Mak-
ing and Marketing of Oaxacan Wood Carvings.
Austin 2003. 266 pp. (Andreas Volz) ........... 258
Cipolletti, María Susana (ed.): Los mundos
de abajo y los mundos de arriba. Individuo y
sociedad en las tierras bajas, en los Andes y más
allá. Quito 2004. 599 pp. (Dan Rosengren) . . 259
Clark, Mary Ann: Where Men Are Wives and
Mothers Rule. Gainesville 2005. 186 pp. (Lioba
Rossbach de Olmos)............................. 591
Coe, Michael D., and Mark van Stone: Read-
ing the Maya Glyphs. London 2001. 176 pp.
(Berthold Riese)............................... 238
Corbey, Raymond: The Metaphysics of Apes.
Negotiating the Animal-Human Boundary. Cam-
bridge 2005. 227 pp. (Matthew R. Goodrum) . 593
Cornwall, Andrea (ed.): Readings in Gender in
Africa. Oxford 2005. 247 pp. (Rita Schäfer) . . 594
Crapanzano, Vincent: Imaginative Horizons.
An Essay in Literary-philosophical Anthropolo-
gy. Chicago 2004. 260 pp. (Josef Salmen) . . . 595
Dächer, Michèle: Cent ans au village. Chronique
familiale gouin (Burkina Faso). Paris 2005.
399 pp. (Jacek Jan Pawlik).................. 596
Das, Veena, and Deborah Poole (eds.): Anthro-
pology in the Margins of the State. Santa Fe;
Oxford 2004. 330 pp. (Roland Drubig) .... 261
Delarozière, Marie-Françoise : L’art du cuir en
Mauritanie, ou le raffinement nomade. Aix-en-
Provence 2005. 95 pp. (Claude Savary) .... 597
Dening, Greg: Beach Crossings. Voyaging across
Times, Cultures, and Self. Philadelphia 2004.
376 pp. (Eva Ch. Raabe) .................... 597
de Wet, Chris (ed.): Development-induced Dis-
placement. Problems, Policies, and People. New
York 2006. 218 pp. (Bettina Beer)........... 599
Dilger, Hansjörg: Leben mit AIDS. Krankheit,
Tod und soziale Beziehungen in Afrika. Frankfurt
2005. 368 pp. (Alexander Rödlach) .......... 263
Dobler, Gregor: Bedürfnisse und der Umgang
mit Dingen. Eine historische Ethnographie der Ile
d’Ouessant, Bretagne, 1800-2000. Berlin 2004.
518 pp. (Hans P. Hahn)...................... 264
Drotbohm, Heike: Geister in der Diaspora. Haiti-
anische Diskurse über Geschlechter, Jugend und
Macht in Montreal. Marburg 2005. 455 pp. (Syl-
via M. Schomburg-Scherff) .................. 600
Endeley, Joyce, Shirley Ardener, Richard Good-
ridge, and Nalova Lyonga (eds.): New Gender
Studies from Cameroon and the Caribbean. Buea
2004. 165 pp. (Ute Röschenthaler)........... 267
Erny, Pierre : L’éducation au Rwanda au temps
des rois. Essais sur la tradition culturelle et
pédgogique d’un pays d’Afrique centrale. Paris
2005.344 pp. (Hildegard Schürings).......... 602
Evans, Toby Susan, and Joanne Pillsbury (eds.):
Palaces of the Ancient New World. A Sympo-
sium at Dumbarton Oaks 10th and 11th October
229
238
221
247
585
586
588
248
249
250
252
253
254
589
256
257
Anthropos 101.2006
Autorenindex (R)
713
1998. Washington 2004. 416pp. (Ursula Thie-
mer-Sachse) ..................................
Falola, Toyin, and Matt D. Childs (eds.): The
Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World. Bloom-
ington 2004. 455 pp. (Lioba Rossbach de Ol-
mos) .........................................
Fikentscher, Wolfgang: Culture, Law, and Eco-
nomics. Three Berkeley Lectures. Bern 2004.
335 pp. (Wolfgang Reinhard)...................
Finlayson, Clive: Neanderthals and Modem Hu-
mans. An Ecological and Evolutionary Perspec-
tive. Cambridge 2004. 255 pp. (Peter K. Smith)
Fischer, Steven Roger: A History of the Pacific
Islands. Houndmills 2002. 304 pp. (Thomas Bar-
gatzky)........._.............................
Fleurdorge, Denis : Les rituels et les représen-
tations du pouvoir. Paris 2005. 280 pp. (Claude
Rivière) .....................................
Fogelson, Raymond D. (ed.): Handbook of North
American Indians; vol. 14: Southeast. Washington
2004.1042 pp. (Sylvia S. Kasprycki) ..........
Foster, Robert J: Materializing the Nation. Com-
modities, Consumption, and Media in Papua New
Guinea. Bloomington 2002. 202 pp. (Hans Reit-
hofer)........................................
Fuentes Guerra, Jesús, y Armin Schwegler:
Lengua y ritos del Palo Monte Mayombe. Dioses
cubanos y sus fuentes africanas. Frankfurt 2005.
258 pp. (Bettina Schmidt) ....................
Galinier, Jacques: The World Below. Body and
Cosmos in Otomi Indian Ritual. Boulder 2004.
271pp. (Brigitte Wiesenbauer).................
Gardner, Peter M.: Bicultural Versatility as
a Frontier Adaptation among Paliyan Foragers
of South India. Lewiston 2000. 262 pp. (Ulrich
Demmer).......................................
Gavin, Traude: Iban Ritual Textiles. Leiden
2003.356 pp. (Mattiebelle Gittinger) .........
Glowczewski, Barbara : Rêves en colère avec
les Aborigènes australiens. Alliances aborigènes
dans le Nord-Ouest australien. Paris 2004. 436 pp.
(Pascale Bonnemère) ..........................
Goodenough, Ward H.: Under Heaven’s Brow.
Pre-Christian Religious Tradition in Chuuk.
Philadelphia 2002. 421 pp. (Corinna Ercken-
brecht) ......................................
Green, Sarah F.: Notes from the Balkans. Lo-
cating Marginality and Ambiguity on the Greek-
Albanian Border. Princeton 2005. 313 pp. (Mi-
chaela Schäuble)..............................
Grijp, Paul van der: Identity and Development.
Tongan Culture, Agriculture, and the Perenniality
of the Gift. Leiden 2004. 225 pp. (Karen Sykes)
Gudermann, Rita, und Bernhard Wulff: Der
Sarotti-Mohr. Die bewegte Geschichte einer Wer-
befigur. Berlin 2004. 174 pp. (Elisabeth Schwar-
zer) .........................................
Gufler, Hermann: Affliction and Moral Order.
Conversations in Yambaland (Cameroon). Can-
terbury 2003. 272 pp. (Jürg Schneider) ....
Gütl, Clemens (Hrsg.): “Adieu ihr lieben Schwar-
zen.” Gesammelte Schriften des Tiroler Afrika-
Missionars Franz Mayr (1865-1914). Wien 2004.
405 pp. (Anton Quack) ...................... 279
Gutwirth, Jacques: The Rebirth of Hasidism.
1945 to the Present Day. London 2005. 198 pp.
(Gerald F. Murray) ............................ 615
Haller, Dieter: dtv-Atlas Ethnologie. München
2005. 307 pp. (Christoph Antweiler und Corinne
Neudorf er).................................... 578
Halperin-Kaddari, Ruth: Women in Israel. A
State of Their Own. Philadelphia 2004. 365 pp.
(Orit Kamir)................................... 281
Handelman, Don, and Galina Lindquist (eds.);
Ritual in Its Own Right. Exploring the Dynam-
ics of Transformation. New York 2005. 232 pp.
(Jacek Jan Pawlik)............................. 617
Hannerz, Ulf: Soulside. Inquiries into Ghetto
Culture and Community. Chicago 2004. 246 pp.
(Judith Lynne Hanna)........................... 618
Hayden, Brian: Shamans, Sorcerers, and Saints.
A Prehistory of Religion. Washington 2003.
468 pp. (Neil S. Price) ....................... 619
Renare, Amiria J. M.: Museums, Anthropology,
and Imperial Exchange. Cambridge 2005. 323 pp.
(Markus Schindlbeck)........................... 621
Hildebrand, Milton, und George E. Goslow:
Vergleichende und funktionelle Anatomie der
Wirbeltiere. Berlin 2004. 709 pp. (Winfried Hen-
ke) ........................................... 622
Hoek, A. W. van den: Caturmäsa. Celebrations
of Death in Kathmandu, Nepal. Leiden 2004.
188 pp. (Per Kvaeme) .......................... 624
Holmes-Eber, Paula: Daughters of Tunis. Wom-
en, Family, and Networks in a Muslim City.
Boulder 2003. 166 pp. (Yamina Dir)............. 624
Hyland, Sabine: The Jesuit and the Incas. The
Extraordinary Life of Padre Bias Valera, S. J. Ann
Arbor 2004. 269 pp. (Kerstin Nowack) .... 282
Ireson-Doolittle, Carol, and Geraldine Moreno-
Black: The Lao. Gender, Power, and Livelihood.
Boulder 2004. 194 pp. (Jana Igunma) ........... 626
Jebens, Holger: Pathways to Heaven. Contest-
ing Mainline and Fundamentalist Christianity in
Papua New Guinea. New York 2005. 284 pp.
(Mary N. MacDonald)............................ 627
Johannessen, Helle, and Imre Lazar (eds.):
Multiple Medical Realities. Patients and Heal-
ers in Biomedical, Alternative, and Traditional
Medicine. New York 2006. 202 pp. (Katarina
Greifeld)...................................... 628
Julien, Marie-Pierre, et Céline Rosselin : La
culture matérielle. Paris 2005. 121 pp. (Claude
Rivière) ...................................... 629
Kantor, Leda, y Olga Silvera (coords.): El anun-
cio de los pájaros. Voces de la resistencia indí-
gena. Buenos Aires 2005. 158 pp. (Diego Villar) 630
Kapfer, Reinhard: Die Frauen von Maroua.
Liebe, Sexualität und Heirat in Nordkamerun.
Wuppertal 2005. 191 pp. (Godula Kosack) . . 284
604
606
268
269
270
607
608
610
611
271
272
273
274
275
612
277
615
278
Anthropos 101.2006
714
Autorenindex (R)
Kasten, Erich (ed.): People and the Land. Path-
ways to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia. Berlin
2002. 257 pp. (Ludger Müller-Wille)..........
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Properties of Culture -
Culture as Property. Pathways to Reform in Post-
Soviet Siberia. Berlin 2004. 323 pp. (Ludger
Müller-Wille) ................................
Kasten, Erich (ed.): Rebuilding Identities. Path-
ways to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia. Berlin
2005.280 pp. (Ludger Müller-Wille)............
Ketan, Joseph: The Name Must Not Go Down.
Political Competition and State-Society Relations
in Mount Hagen, Papua New Guinea. Suva 2004.
438 pp. (Roland Seib).........................
Knaap, Gerrit, and Heather Sutherland: Mon-
soon Traders. Ships, Skippers, and Commodities
in Eighteenth-Century Makassar. Leiden 2004.
269 pp. (Martin Rössler) .....................
Knab, Timothy J.: The Dialogue of Earth and
Sky. Dreams, Souls, Curing, and the Modern
Aztec Underworld. Tucson 2004. 181 pp. (Bet-
tina Schmidt) ................................
Knauft, Bruce M.: Critically Modern. Alter-
natives, Alterities, Anthropologies. Bloomington
2002. 329 pp. (Franciszek M. Rosihski) ....
Koch-Grünberg, Theodor: Die Xingu-Expedi-
tion (1898-1900). Ein Forschungstagebuch. Köln
2004. 507 pp. (Maria Susana Cipolletti) ....
Köhler, Ulrich (Hrsg.); Nueva Maravilla. Eine
junge Siedlung im Kontext massiver indianischer
Migration nach San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chi-
apas, Mexiko. Münster 2004. 427 pp. (Gunther
Dietz) .......................................
Komter, Aafke E.: Social Solidarity and the Gift.
Cambridge 2005. 234 pp. (Cele Otnes) ....
Kraus, Michael: Bildungsbürger im Urwald.
Die deutsche ethnologische Amazonienforschung
(1884-1929). Marburg 2004. 539 pp. (Gabriele
Brandhuber) ..................................
Kraus, Wolfgang: Islamische Stammesgesell-
schaften. Tribale Identitäten im Vorderen Ori-
ent in sozialanthropologischer Perspektive. Wien
2004. 420 pp. (Burkhard Ganzer) ..............
Kremling, Verena: Zu kalt um aufzustehen?
Einflüsse von Identität und Weltbild auf die Ent-
wicklungszusammenarbeit mit Fulbe-Viehhaltern
im Liptako (Burkina Faso). Herbolzheim 2004.
344 pp. (Frank Kränke)........................
Lange, Dierk: Ancient Kingdoms of West Africa.
Africa-Centred and Canaanite-Israelite Perspec-
tives. Dettelbach 2004. 586 pp. (Detlef Gronen-
born) ........................................
Lanik, Monika: Freie Bürger und Freimaurerin-
nen. Lokalpolitik am Ende des 20. Jahrhun-
derts. Berlin 2003. 287 pp. (Annemarie Grono-
ver)..........................................
Leopold, Anita Maria, and Jeppe Sinding Jen-
sen (eds.): Syncretism in Religion. A Reader.
London 2004. 402 pp. (Jacob Pandian) ....
Leopold, Mark: Inside West Nile. Violence, His-
tory, and Representation on an African Frontier.
Oxford 2005. 180 pp. (Udo Mischek) ......... 633
Linnertz, Birgit P.: Tiyospaye. Politische Grup-
pen der Plains-Indianer in der Vor-Reservations-
zeit. Wyk auf Föhr 2005. 139 pp. (Ulrich van der
Heyden) ....................................... 635
McCabe, J. Terrence: Cattle Bring Us to Our
Enemies. Turkana Ecology, Politics, and Raiding
in a Disequilibrium System. Ann Arbor 2004.
301 pp. (Matthias Österle) ................. 636
McCann, James C.: Maize and Grace. Africa’s
Encounter with a New World Crop, 1500-2000.
Cambridge 2005. 289 pp. (T. O. Beidelman) . 301
MacClancy, Jeremy (ed.): Exotic No More.
Anthropology on the Front Lines. Chicago 2002.
456 pp. (Markus Müller) ...................... 302
McKnight, David: Going the Whiteman’s Way.
Kinship and Marriage among Australian Aborig-
ines. Aldershot 2004. 252 pp. (Kim de Rijke) . 304
Macri, Martha J., and Matthew G. Looper:
The New Catalog of Maya Hieroglyphs. Vol 1;
The Classic Period Inscriptions. New York 2003.
375 pp. (Berthold Riese) ...................... 238
Mahlke, Kirsten: Offenbarung im Westen. Frühe
Berichte aus der Neuen Welt. Frankfurt 2005.
349 pp. (Eveline Dürr) ........................ 637
Martin, Jeannett: “Been-To”, “Burger”, “Trans-
migranten?” Zur Bildungsmigration von Ghana-
ern und ihrer Rückkehr aus der Bundesrepublik
Deutschland. Münster 2005. 329 pp. (Boris Nies-
wand) ......................................... 638
Marx, Christoph: Geschichte Afrikas. Von 1800
bis zur Gegenwart. Paderborn 2004. 391 pp.
(Wilhelm J. G. Möhlig) ........................ 306
Mauzé, Marie, Michael E. Harkin, and Sergei
Kan (eds.): Coming to Shore. Northwest Coast
Ethnology, Traditions, and Visions. Lincoln 2004.
508 pp. (Alexandra V. Roth) ................... 308
Merry, Sally Engle, and Donald Brenneis (eds.):
Law and Empire in the Pacific. Fiji and Hawai’i.
Santa Fe; Oxford 2003. 313 pp. (James Turner) 310
Michels, Stefanie: Imagined Power Contested.
Germans and Africans in the Upper Cross River
Area of Cameroon, 1887-1915. Munster 2004.
430 pp. (Ute Röschenthaler) ............... 311
Miedema, Jelle, and Ger Reesink: One Head,
Many Faces. New Perspectives on the Bird’s
Head Peninsula of New Guinea. Leiden 2004.
220 pp. (Terence E. Hays) .................... 649
Montgomery, John: Dictionary of Maya Hi-
eroglyphs. New York 2002. 200 pp. (Berthold
Riese) ....................................... 238
Mräzek, Jan: Phenomenology of a Puppet The-
atre. Contemplations on the Art of Javanese
wayang kulit. Leiden 2005. 567 pp. (Annette
Hornbacher) .................................. 575
Murray, Colin, and Peter Sanders: Medicine
Murder in Colonial Lesotho. The Anatomy of
a Moral Crisis. Edinburgh 2005. 493 pp. (Rita
Schäfer) ..................................... 312
285
285
285
286
288
631
289
290
632
292
293
294
297
299
300
229
Anthropos 101.2006
Autorenindex (R)
715
Niehof, Anke, and Firman Lubis (eds.): Two
Is Enough. Family Planning in Indonesia under
the New Order 1968-1998. Leiden 2003. 281 pp.
(Susanne Schröter) ...........................
Ntukula, Mary, and Rita Liljeström (eds.):
Umleavyo - The Dilemma of Parenting. Uppsala
2004. 152 pp. (Rita Schäfer) .................
Fellow, Deborah: Landlords and Lodgers. Socio-
Spatial Organization in an Accra Community.
Westport 2002. 262 pp. (Katja Werthmann) . .
Peterson, Derek R,: Creative Writing. Transla-
tion, Bookkeeping, and the Work of Imagina-
tion in Colonial Kenia. Portsmouth 2004. 287 pp.
(T. O. Beidelman) ............................
Polak, Rainer: Festmusik als Arbeit, Trommeln
als Beruf. Jenbe-Spieler in einer westafrikani-
schen Großstadt. Mit 19 Musikbeispielen auf
einer CD. Berlin 2004. 364 pp. (Hans P. Hahn)
Porath, Nathan: When the Bird Flies. Shamanic
Therapy and the Maintenance of Worldly Bound-
aries among an Indigenous People of Riau (Suma-
tra). Leiden 2003. 258 pp. (Heinzpeter Znoj)
Pryor, Frederic L.: Economic Systems of Forag-
ing, Agricultural, and Industrial Societies. Cam-
bridge 2005. 316 pp. (Norbert Dannhaeuser)
Rabben, Linda: Brazil’s Indians and the On-
slaught of Civilization. The Yanomami and the
Kayapó. Seattle 2004. 214 pp. (Peter Schrö-
der) .........................................
Riese, Berthold (Hrsg.): Crónica Mexicayotl. Die
Chronik des Mexikanertums des Alonso Fran-
co, des Hemando de Alvarado Tezozomoc und
des Domingo Francisco de San Antón Muñón
Chimalpahin Quauhtlehuanitzin. Sankt Augustin
2004. 425 pp. (Michel Launey).................
Roberts, Richard: Litigants and Households.
African Disputes and Colonial Courts in the
French Soudan, 1895-1912. Portsmouth 2005.
309 pp. (T. O. Beidelman) ....................
Robinson, Rowena: Christians of India. New
Delhi; Thousand Oaks 2003. 235 pp. (Rudolf
C. Heredia)...................................
Rubel, Paula G., and Abraham Rosman (eds.);
Translating Cultures. Perspectives on Translation
and Anthropology. Oxford 2003. 289 pp. (Volker
Heeschen) ....................................
Sanga, Glauco, and Gherardo Ortalli (eds.):
Nature Knowledge. Ethnoscience, Cognition,
and Utility. New York 2003. 417 pp. (Bernhard
Streck) ......................................
Schäfer, Rita; Im Schatten der Apartheid. Frauen-
Rechtsorganisationen und geschlechtsspezifische
Gewalt in Südafrika. Münster 2005. 480 pp.
(Friederike Schneider)........................
Schareika, Nikolaus: Westlich der Kälberleine.
Nomadische Tierhaltung und naturkundliches
Wissen bei den Wodaabe Südostnigers. Münster
2003. 347 pp. (Andreas Volz) ................
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk
(Hrsg.): Lokales Wissen - sozialwissenschaft-
liche Perspektiven. Münster 2004. 273 pp. (Peter
Schröder).................................... 649
Schareika, Nikolaus, und Thomas Bierschenk
(Hrsg.): Lokales Wissen - sozialwissenschaftliche
Perspektiven. Münster 2004. 273 pp. (Bernhard
Wörrle)......................................... 650
Schoormann, Matthias: Sozialer und religiöser
Wandel in Afrika. Die Tonga in Zimbabwe.
Münster 2005. 616 pp. (Alexander Rödlach) . 651
Schuerkens, Ulrike (ed.): Transnational Migra-
tions and Social Transformations. London 2005.
214 pp. (Ludger Pries) ......................... 652
Seligmann, Linda J.: Peruvian Street Lives.
Culture, Power, and Economy among Market
Women of Cuzco. Urbana 2004. 251 pp. (Maria-
Barbara Watson-Franke).......................... 326
Stammei, Manfred: Die Wahrnehmung von Wohl-
stand und Armut. Geistesgeschichtliche Entwick-
lung und indigene Kognition am Beispiel einer
erweiterten Verwandtschaftsgruppe in Teheran.
Berlin 2005. 342 pp. (Julia Droeber)......... 653
Stelzig, Christine: Afrika am Museum für Völ-
kerkunde zu Berlin, 1873-1919. Herbolzheim
2004. 450 pp. (Ute Röschenthaler)........... 327
Stewart, Pamela J., and Andrew Strathern:
Witchcraft, Sorcery, Rumors, and Gossip. Cam-
bridge 2004. 228 pp. (Klaus Hock) ........... 655
Stoller, Paul: Gallery Bundu. A Story about an
African Past . Chicago 2005. 195 pp. (Philippe
Laburthe-Tolra) ............................. 656
Tall, Aminatou: Das Frobenius-Institut unter
Eike Haberland. Marburg 2005. 89 pp. (Adam
Jones) ......................................... 329
Taylor, Colin F., and Hugh A. Dempsey (eds.):
The People of the Buffalo. The Plains Indians
of North America. Military Art, Warfare, and
Change. Wyk auf Föhr 2003. 183 pp. (Dagmar
Siebelt)........................................ 657
Toffin, Gérard : Ethnologie. La quête de l’autre.
Paris 2005. 157 pp. (Pierre Emy) ............... 658
van den Borne, Francine: Trying to Survive in
Times of Poverty and AIDS. Women and Multiple
Partner Sex in Malawi. Amsterdam 2005. 362 pp.
(Eleanor Preston-Why te)........................ 659
Voell, Stéphane: Das nordalbanische Gewohn-
heitsrecht und seine mündliche Dimension. Mar-
burg 2004. 365 pp. (Ilka Thiessen)......... 329
Walter, Mariko Namba, and Eva Jane Neu-
mann Fridman (eds.): Shamanism. An Encyclo-
pedia of World Beliefs, Practices, and Culture;
2 vols. Santa Barbara 2004. 1055 pp. (Wassilios
Klein) ...................................... 660
Whitehead, Neil L., and Robin Wright (eds.):
In Darkness and Secrecy. The Anthropology of
Assault Sorcery and Witchcraft in Amazonia.
Durham 2004. 328 pp. (David Hicks) .......... 661
Williamson, Margaret Holmes: Powhatan Lords
of Life and Death. Command and Consent in
Seventeenth-Century Virginia. Lincoln 2003.
323 pp. (Ingo W. Schröder)................... 330
641
313
315
316
642
644
233
318
319
646
321
322
323
647
325
Anthropos 101.2006
716
Autorenindex (R)
Winter, Karin: Österreichische Spuren in der
Südsee. Die Missionsreise von S.M.S. ALBA-
TROS in den Jahren 1895-1898 und ihre öko-
nomischen Hintergründe. Wien 2005. 285 pp.
(Hermann Mückler) .............................. 663
Wolf, Eric R.: Pathways of Power. Building an
Anthropology of the Modern World. Berkeley
2001.463 pp. (Wolfgang Marschall).......... 331
Yurkova, Irina: Der Alltag der Transformation.
Kleinuntemehmerinnen in Usbekistan. Bielefeld
2004. 209 pp. (Philipp Schröder)........... 332
Anthropos 101.2006
Rezensenten
111
Rezensenten
Antweiler 578
Bargatzky 270
Beer 599
Beidelman 249, 301, 316, 646
Bonnemere 274
Brandhuber 293
Cipolletti 290
Dannhaeuser 233
Demmer 272
Dietrich 252
Dietz 632
Dir 624
Droeber 250, 588, 653
Drubig 261
Dürr 637
Erckenbrecht 275
Emy 658
Ganzer 294
Gittinger 273
Goodrum 593
Greifeid 628
Gronenbom 299
Gronover 300
Hahn 264, 642
Hanna 618
Hays 640
Heeschen 322
Henke 622
Heredia 321
van der Heyden 635
Hicks 661
Hock 655
Hombacher 575
Igunma 626
Jones 329
Kamir 281
Kasprycki 608
Klein 660
Kosack 284
Krönke 297
Kvaeme 624
Laamann 247
Laburthe-Tolra 656
Launey 319
MacDonald 627
Marschall 256, 331
Meyer 254
Mischek 633
Möhlig 306
Mückler 663
Müller 302
Müller-Wille 2853
Murray 615
Neudorf er 578
Nieswand 638
Nowack 282
Osterie 636
Otnes 292
Pandian 229
Pawlik 596, 617
Preston-Whyte 659
Pries 652
Price 619
Quack 279
Raabe 597
Reinhard 268
Reithofer 610
Riese 238
de Rijke 304
Rivière 607, 629
Rödlach 263, 651
Röschenthaler 267, 311, 327
Rosengren 259
Rosihski 289
Rossbach de Olmos 591, 606
Rössler 288
Roth 308
Salmen 595
Savary 597
Schäfer 312, 313, 585, 594
Schäuble 612
Schindlbeck 621
Schmidt 611,631
Schneider, F. 647
Schneider, J. 278
Schomburg-Scherff 600
Schröder, I. 330
Schröder, P. 318, 649
Schröder, Ph. 332
Schröter 641
Schürings 602
Schwarzer 615
Seib 286
Sharma 253
Siebelt 248, 657
Smith 269
Streck 323
Sykes 277
Thiemer-Sachse 604
Thiessen 329
Troll 590
Turner 310
Villar 630
Volz 258, 325
Wardlow 589
Watson-Franke 326
Werthmann 315
Wiesenbauer 271
Wörrle 257, 650
Znoj 644
Zuckerhut 586
Anthropos 101.2006
GEOGRAPHISCHER INDEX*
Afrika
Afrika am Museum für Völkerkunde zu Berlin, 1873-
1919 327
Fashioning Africa. Power and the Politics of Dress
585
Das Frobenius-Institut unter Eike Haberland 329
Geschichte Afrikas. Von 1800 bis zur Gegenwart 306
Maize and Grace. Africa’s Encounter with a New
World Crop, 1500-2000 301
Readings in Gender in Africa 594
Nordafrika
Daughters of Tunis. Women, Family, and Networks
in a Muslim City 624
Islamische Stammesgesellschaften. Tribale Identitäten
im Vorderen Orient in sozialanthropologischer
Perspektive 294
Ostafrika
Cattle Bring Us to Our Enemies. Turkana Ecology,
Politics, and Raiding in a Disequilibrium System
636
Creative Writing. Translation, Bookkeeping, and the
Work of Imagination in Colonial Kenia 316
Cyclicité, histoire et destin dans les systèmes de
classes d’âge de l’Afrique de l’Est 81
Development-induced Displacement. Problems,
Policies, and People 599
L’éducation au Rwanda au temps des rois. Essais sur
la tradition culturelle et pédgogique d’un pays
d’Afrique centrale 602
Inside West Nile. Violence, History, and Representation
on an African Frontier 633
Leben mit AIDS. Krankheit, Tod und soziale Bezie-
hungen in Afrika 263
* Seitenzahlen in kursiv weisen auf Artikel oder Berichte und
Kommentare hin.
Order in a Disordered World. The Bertha House
(Western Ethiopia) 379
Umleavyo - The Dilemma of Parenting 313
Westafrika
Affliction and Moral Order. Conversations in Yamba-
land (Cameroon) 278
Ancient Kingdoms of West Africa. Africa-Centred and
Canaanite-Israelite Perspectives 299
L’art du cuir en Mauritanie, ou le raffinement nomade
597
“Been-To”, “Burger”, “Transmigranten?” Zur Bildungs-
migration von Ghanaern und ihrer Rückkehr
aus der Bundesrepublik Deutschland 638
Bejo, Curay und Bin-Bim? Die Sprache und Kultur
der Wolof im Senegal 254
Cent ans au village. Chronique familiale gouin
(Burkina Faso) 596
Diviners, Malams, God, and the Contest for Para-
mount Chiefship in Mamprugu (Northern Ghana)
21
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies. Spirit
Possession, Sickness, and the Search for Wealth
of Nigerian Immigrant Women 429
The Establishment of the Princes’ Society in Oku,
Cameroon. An Enhancement of Traditional Culture
or Its Adulteration? 55
Festmusik als Arbeit, Trommeln als Beruf. Jenbe-
Spieler in einer westafrikanischen Großstadt 642
Die Frauen von Maroua. Liebe, Sexualität und Heirat
in Nordkamerun 284
Gallery Bundu. A Story about an African Past 656
Imagined Power Contested. Germans and Africans
in the Upper Cross River Area of Cameroon,
1887-1915 311
Inherited Rules and New Procedures in Three Trials in
Canton Bo, Southwestern Cote d’Ivoire 9
Islamisation and Ethnic Conversion in Nigeria 37
Landlords and Lodgers. Socio-Spatial Organization
in an Accra Community 315
Litigants and Households. African Disputes and
Colonial Courts in the French Soudan, 1895-1912
646
Anthropos 101.2006
Geographischer Index
719
New Gender Studies from Cameroon and the
Caribbean 267
Des sites sacrés à incendier. Feux rituels et bosquets
sacrés chez les Bwaba du Burkina Faso et les
Bassar du Togo 413
Westlich der Kälberleine. Nomadische Tierhaltung
und naturkundliches Wissen bei den Wodaabe
Südostnigers 325
The Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World 606
Zu kalt um aufzustehen? Einflüsse von Identität und
Weltbild auf die Entwicklungszusammenarbeit
mit Fulbe-Viehhaltern im Liptako (Burkina Faso)
297
Zentralafrika
Colonial Response to Population Depletion in Early
Congo, ca. 1890-1936 403
Lengua y ritos del Palo Monte Mayombe. Dioses
cubanos y sus fuentes africanas 611
Südafrika
“Adieu ihr lieben Schwarzen.” Gesammelte Schriften
des Tiroler Afrika-Missionars Franz Mayr (1865 —
1914) 279
Im Schatten der Apartheid. Frauen-Rechtsorgani-
sationen und geschlechtsspezifische Gewalt in
Südafrika 647
Medicine Murder in Colonial Lesotho. The Anatomy
of a Moral Crisis 312
Sozialer und religiöser Wandel in Afrika. Die Tonga
in Zimbabwe 651
Trying to Survive in Times of Poverty and AIDS.
Women and Multiple Partner Sex in Malawi 659
Witchcraft, Violence, and Democracy in South Africa
249
Amerika
Nordamerika
Coming to Shore. Northwest Coast Ethnology,
Traditions, and Visions 308
Documenting Transnational Migration. Jordanian Men
Working and Studying in Europe, Asia, and North
America 588
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab
Communities in the United States 111
Geister in der Diaspora. Haitianische Diskurse über
Geschlechter, Jugend und Macht in Montreal 600
Handbook of North American Indians; vol. 14: South-
east 608
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese.” Berthold
Läufer, Franz Boas, and the Chinese Exhibits at the
American Museum of Natural History, 1899-1912
123
Die Indianer Nordamerikas. Geschichte, Kultur,
Religion 248
Offenbarung im Westen. Frühe Berichte aus der Neuen
Welt 637
The People of the Buffalo. The Plains Indians of
North America. Military Art, Warfare, and Change
657
Powhatan Lords of Life and Death. Command and
Consent in Seventeenth-Century Virginia 330
Soulside. Inquiries into Ghetto Culture and
Community 618
Tiyospaye. Politische Gruppen der Plains-Indianer
in der Vor-Reservationszeit 635
Zentralamerika
Crafting Tradition. The Making and Marketing of
Oaxacan Wood Carvings 258
The Dialogue of Earth and Sky. Dreams, Souls,
Curing, and the Modem Aztec Underworld 631
Dictionary of Maya Hieroglyphs 238
Drei neue Maya-Hieroglyphen Kataloge 238
Geister in der Diaspora. Haitianische Diskurse über
Geschlechter, Jugend und Macht in Montreal 600
Lengua y ritos del Palo Monte Mayombe. Dioses
cubanos y sus fuentes africanas 611
The New Catalog of Maya Hieroglyphs. Vol 1: The
Classic Period Inscriptions 238
New Gender Studies from Cameroon and the
Caribbean 267
Nueva Maravilla. Eine junge Siedlung im Kontext
massiver indianischer Migration nach San Cristóbal
de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexiko 632
Palaces of the Ancient New World. A Symposium at
Dumbarton Oaks 10th and 11th October 1998 604
Reading the Maya Glyphs 238
Where Men Are Wives and Mothers Rule. Santería
Ritual Practices and Their Gender Implications
591
The World Below. Body and Cosmos in Otomi Indian
Ritual 271
The Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World 606
Südamerika
El anuncio de los pájaros. Voces de la resistencia
indígena 630
Bildungsbürger im Urwald. Die deutsche ethno-
logische Amazonienforschung (1884-1929) 293
Brazil’s Indians and the Onslaught of Civilization.
The Yanomami and the Kayapó 318
Anthropos 101.2006
720
Geographischer Index
Crónica Mexicayotl. Die Chronik des Mexikanertums
des Alonso Franco, des Hernando de Alvarado
Tezozomoc und des Domingo Francisco de San
Antón Muñón Chimalpahin Quauhtlehuanitzin
319
Ideología, simbolismo y relaciones de género en la
construcción de la persona chacobo 145
Inca Copacabana. A Reconstruction from the
Perspective of the Carved Rocks 179
In Darkness and Secrecy. The Anthropology of
Assault Sorcery and Witchcraft in Amazonia 661
The Jesuit and the Incas. The Extraordinary Life of
Padre Bias Valera, S. J. 282
“Le jour où Páwa, notre Père à tous, a abandonné la
terre ..Le bricolage religieux chez les Ashéninka
de TUcayali 541
Los mundos de abajo y los mundos de arriba.
Individuo y sociedad en las tierras bajas, en los
Andes y más allá 259
Offenbarung im Westen. Frühe Berichte aus der Neuen
Welt 637
Palaces of the Ancient New World. A Symposium at
Dumbarton Oaks 10th and 11th October 1998 604
Peruvian Street Lives. Culture, Power, and Economy
among Market Women of Cuzco 326
A Religiosidade popular na cultura caiçara. A Festa do
Divino Espirito Santo em Iguape 169
“Tranca Ruas schlachtete seine Katze, wollte aber
nicht alleine essen ...” Deixis, Ritualgesänge und
die Glaubwürdigkeit der Geistverkörperung in der
brasilianischen Umbanda 529
The Urban Manchinery Youth and the Social Capital
in Western Amazonian Contemporary Rituals 159
Die Xingu-Expedition (1898-1900). Ein Forschungs-
tagebuch 290
The Yoruba Diaspora in the Atlantic World 606
Asien
Westasien
Ancient Kingdoms of West Africa. Africa-Centred and
Canaanite-Israelite Perspectives 299
Docurftenting Transnational Migration. Jordanian Men
Working and Studying in Europe, Asia, and North
America 588
The Dynamics of Identity Reconstruction among Arab
Communities in the United States 111
Islamische Stammesgesellschaften. Tribale Identitäten
im Vorderen Orient in sozialanthropologischer
Perspektive 294
Israels Religionsgeschichte aus ethnologischer Sicht
99
Kognition am Beispiel einer erweiterten Verwandt-
schaftsgruppe in Teheran 653
Power vs. Consent in Tribal Political Systems in Iran:
Salzman on the Basseri Khan. Comments on an
Extreme View 564
Die Wahrnehmung von Wohlstand und Armut.
Geistesgeschichtliche Entwicklung und indigene
Women in Israel. A State of Their Own 281
Zu kalt um aufzustehen? Einflüsse von Identität und
Weltbild auf die Entwicklungszusammenarbeit mit
Fulbe-Viehhaltem im Liptako (Burkina Faso) 297
Südasien
Bicultural Versatility as a Frontier Adaptation among
Paliyan Foragers of South India 272
Caturmâsa. Celebrations of Death in Kathmandu,
Nepal 624
Christians of India 321
Development-induced Displacement. Problems,
Policies, and People 599
Documenting Transnational Migration. Jordanian Men
Working and Studying in Europe, Asia, and North
America 588
Stories about Posts. Vedic Variations around the Hindu
Goddess 253
Zentralasien
Der Alltag der Transformation. Kleinuntemehmerinnen
in Usbekistan 332
Geburt und Jugend des Helden im Gesar-Epos der
Monguor (VR China, Provinz Qinghai) 473
Männlichkeit und Weiblichkeit. Wahrgenommene
soziale Akzeptanz bei jungen Kalmyken 221
Vorislamische Glauben der Kirgisen 250
Nordasien
People and the Land. Pathways to Reform in Post-
Soviet Siberia 285
Properties of Culture - Culture as Property. Pathways
to Reform in Post-Soviet Siberia 285
Rebuilding Identities. Pathways to Reform in Post-
Soviet Siberia 285
Ostasien
“To Inculcate Respect for the Chinese.” Berthold
Laufer, Franz Boas, and the Chinese Exhibits at the
American Museum of Natural History, 1899-1912
123
Islam, Law, and Equality. An Anthropology of Public
Reasoning 256
New Year Celebrations in Central China in Late
Imperial Times 247
Anthropos 101.2006
Geographischer Index
721
Siidostasien
Betel-Chewing in Vietnam. Its Past and Current
Importance 499
How Friarbird Got His Helmet. Some Novel Features
in an Eastern Indonesian Narrative 570
Iban Ritual Textiles 273
The Lao. Gender, Power, and Livelihood 626
Medium oder Message? Wayang Kulit zwischen
Technik und Kunst 575
Monsoon Traders. Ships, Skippers, and Commodities
in Eighteenth-Century Makassar 288
Multiple Centres of Authority. Society and Environ-
ment in Siak and Eastern Sumatra, 1674-1827
252
When the Bird Flies. Shamanic Therapy and the
Maintenance of Worldly Boundaries among an
Indigenous People of Riau (Sumatra) 644
Two Is Enough. Family Planning in Indonesia under
the New Order 1968-1998 641
Europa
Balkan Ghosts Revisited. Racism - Serbian Style
559
Bedürfnisse und der Umgang mit Dingen. Eine
historische Ethnographie der Ile d’Ouessant,
Bretagne, 1800-2000 264
“Been-To”, “Burger”, “Transmigranten?” Zur Bildungs-
migration von Ghanaern und ihrer Rückkehr
aus der Bundesrepublik Deutschland 638
Documenting Transnational Migration. Jordanian Men
Working and Studying in Europe, Asia, and North
America 588
Embodied Powers, Deconstructed Bodies. Spirit
Possession, Sickness, and the Search for Wealth of
Nigerian Immigrant Women 429
Freie Bürger und Freimaurerinnen. Lokalpolitik am
Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts 300
Imagined Power Contested. Germans and Africans in
the Upper Cross River Area of Cameroon, 1887—
1915 311
Joseph the Smith and the Salvational Transformation
of Matter in Early Medieval Europe 451
Museums, Anthropology, and Imperial Exchange 621
Neanderthals and Modern Humans. An Ecological and
Evolutionary Perspective 269
Das nordalbanische Gewohnheitsrecht und seine
mündliche Dimension 329
Notes from the Balkans. Locating Marginality and
Ambiguity on the Greek-Albanian Border 612
Offenbarung im Westen. Frühe Berichte aus der Neuen
Welt 637
Der Sarotti-Mohr. Die bewegte Geschichte einer
Werbefigur 615
Sexualisierte Gewalt. Weibliche Erfahrungen in
NS-Konzentrationslagem 586
Ozeanien
A History of the Pacific Islands 270
Österreichische Spuren in der Südsee. Die Missions-
reise von S.M.S. ALBATROS in den Jahren 1895-
1898 und ihre ökonomischen Hintergründe 663
Australien
Going the Whiteman’s Way. Kinship and Marriage
among Australian Aborigines 304
Rêves en colère avec les Aborigènes australiens.
Alliances aborigènes dans le Nord-Ouest australien
274
Melanesien
Un chapelet sur le caducée. Tentatives
d’évangélisation catholique et protestante des
Asmat (Papouasie occidentale) 519
Law and Empire in the Pacific. Fiji and Hawai’i 310
Materializing the Nation. Commodities, Consumption,
and Media in Papua New Guinea 610
The Name Must Not Go Down. Political Competition
and State-Society Relations in Mount Hagen, Papua
New Guinea 286
One Head, Many Faces. New Perspectives on the
Bird’s Head Peninsula of New Guinea 640
Österreichische Spuren in der Südsee. Die Missions-
reise von S.M.S. ALBATROS in den Jahren 1895-
1898 und ihre ökonomischen Hintergründe 663
Pathways to Heaven. Contesting Mainline and
Fundamentalist Christianity in Papua New Guinea
627
Women as Unseen Characters. Male Ritual in Papua
New Guinea 589
Mikronesien
Under Heaven’s Brow. Pre-Christian Religious
Tradition in Chuuk 275
Polynesien
Beach Crossings. Voyaging across Times, Cultures,
and Self. Philadelphia 597
Identity and Development. Tongan Culture,
Agriculture, and the Perenniality of the Gift 277
Law and Empire in the Pacific. Fiji and Hawai’i 310
Museums, Anthropology, and Imperial Exchange 621
Anthropos 101.2006
All the worlds of anthropology
www.journals.uchicago.edu
Editor, Benjamin S. Orlove
Sponsored by the Wenner-Gren Foundation for
Current
Anthropology
Anthropological Research, Inc.
ISSN: 0011-3204
At the forefront of anthropological research and debate, Current Anthropology
encompasses the full range of humanistic and scientific anthropological scholarship,
studying human cultures and other primate species. CA interprets a wide variety of
areas including social, cultural, and biological anthropology, as well as ethnology and
ethnohistory, archaeology and prehistory, folklore, and linguistics.
Increased Frequency
Beginning in 2006, Current Anthropology will begin publishing an additional issue—
bringing the total to six issues per year. The features that have distinguished CA will
remain, and will be enhanced by an updated layout and cover design.
Current Anthropology Online
Read a sample issue online and sign up for our ®-T0C tables of contents alerts at
www.journals.uchicago.edu
Sign up for Current Anthropology RSS Feeds!
RSS is a free, easy, and automatic way for you to be informed when new journal
issues or articles are published. RSS delivers new article abstracts, simply and
automatically. Sign up for new article abstracts today at www.journals.uchicago.edu.
Online orders: www.journals.uchicago.edu
E-mail orders: subscriptions@press.uchicago.edu
Phone orders: (877) 705-1878 (USA/Canada) or (773) 753-3347 (International)
Fax orders: (877) 705-1879 (USA/Canada) or (773) 753-0811 (International)
щ
The University of Chicago Press
Journals Division • Box 37005 • Chicago, IL 60637
11/05
Augustin
BuchbiNdEREi LiENiQ
PappeIaIIee 64
10457 BerÜn
TeI. 28591172
.oWt-Ln7^N
V '
* Univereitatsbifaifwitefc *j
S3 BerUlL
#ANTHROPOS
Internationale Zeitschrift
für Völker- und Sprachenkunde
International Review of
Anthropology and Linguistics
Revue Internationale
d'Ethnologie et de Linguistique
IsOmii
ANTHROPOS INSTITUT^
LA: W