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Anthropology of Our Times: An Edited Anthology in Public Anthropology
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Edited by
SINDRE
BANGSTAD
Anthropology
of Our Times
An Edited Anthology
in Public Anthropology
Anthropology of Our Times
House of Literature, Oslo. Photo courtesy of Andreas Liebe Delsett
Sindre Bangstad
Editor
Anthropology of Our
Times
An Edited Anthology in Public Anthropology
Foreword by
Thomas Hylland Eriksen
Editor
Sindre Bangstad
KIFO, Institute For Church,
Religion and Worldview Research
Vinderen, Norway
ISBN 978-1-137-53848-2 ISBN 978-1-137-53849-9 (eBook)
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-53849-9
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017936702
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifcally the rights
of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction
on microflms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and
retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology
now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specifc statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and
information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication.
Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied,
with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have
been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published
maps and institutional affliations.
Cover illustration : © Andrew Cribb/Alamy Stock Photo
Printed on acid-free paper
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature
The registered company is Nature America Inc.
The registered company address is: 1 New York Plaza, New York, NY 10004, U.S.A.
For Thomas, whose work taught me what public anthropology could be.
For Marianne G. for lessons in personal and professional integrity.
vii
Foreword
In this Foreword, Professor of Anthropology at the University of Oslo
Thomas Hylland Eriksen refects on the ebbs and fows of the relationship of anthropology to the wider public sphere since the last turn of
the century. Starting with Bronislaw Malinowski, Marcel Mauss, Franz
Boas and Margaret Mead, Eriksen argues that public anthropology is not
something new, and that there has not been any straightforward movement from openness to closure with increasing professionalisation of
anthropology as an academic discipline.
The relationship of anthropology to the wider public sphere has gone
through a series of ebbs and fows. In the nineteenth century, anthropology scarcely existed as an independent intellectual endeavour, but
was largely a gentlemanly pursuit or an unintended, but not unwelcome
side-effect of exploration and colonisation. Those who contributed to
the emergence of anthropology as a distinctive feld of scientifc knowledge, from Lewis Henry Morgan in the USA to Henry Maine and E.B.
Tylor in England, positioned themselves in a broader ecology of ideas
and the pursuit of knowledge. The professionalisation of anthropology as
an academic discipline began in earnest around the last turn of the century, enabling later practitioners to withdraw increasingly from political
concerns and other scientifc approaches to human culture and society.
While many nineteenth-century anthropologists were not public anthropologists in the contemporary sense, they communicated with a broader
viii Foreword
public in their writings—from lay readers to policy-makers—than most
academic anthropologists of the early twenty-frst century.
In addition, many early anthropologists, especially in the USA,
were involved in what would today be called radical advocacy or action
anthropology. Luke Lassiter notes that
[l]ong before Bronislaw Malinowski insisted that anthropologists move
‘off the verandah’ and into the everyday lives of the natives … many BAE
[Bureau of American Ethnology] ethnologists had moved into Native
communities and were participating in people’s everyday lives, doing
feldwork in collaboration with Indian informants, and, in some cases,
following in the tradition of Morgan, acting on behalf of their ‘subjects’.
(Lassiter 2005: 86)
The increasing institutionalisation of anthropology as an academic discipline in the twentieth century enabled many anthropologists to effectively withdraw from the surrounding society (Eriksen 2006, Low and
Merry 2010). Concerns voiced by some, such as A.R. Radcliffe-Brown,
to make anthropology a ‘real science’ modelled on physics and biology,
encouraged this kind of retreat into the ivory tower, and as the internal
demographics of anthropology soared after the Second World War, the
professional community grew large enough to begin to spin a cocoon
around itself. Like a growing empire, it increasingly became self-contained, self-reproducing and self-suffcient, until the sheer demographic
growth, decades later, again led to porous boundaries and defections.
There has been no straightforward movement from openness to closure. Important anthropologists who contributed to the institutionalisation of the subject were engaged in broader societal issues, and Franz
Boas himself was an important public critic of racist pseudoscience.
Among his students, Margaret Mead, the author of forty-four books
and more than a thousand articles, keeping the steam up until her death
in 1978, was the public anthropologist par excellence in the twentieth century. There were also many others whose work was read outside
the academy, and who engaged in various ways with the world at large.
Bronislaw Malinowski gave lectures on primitive economics to anyone
who would care to listen; Marcel Mauss was engaged in French politics
as a moderate socialist; and one could go on.
Moreover, applied anthropology has been a subfeld—often unjustly
disparaged by those involved in ‘pure research’—since well before the
Foreword ix
war. As noted by David Mills (2006: 56–57), anthropologists had, since
the early twentieth century, tried to ‘convince the Imperial government that anthropology served a useful purpose and deserved funding’.
Although applied research was funded by the Colonial Social Science
Research Council until 1961 (Pink 2006), little basic anthropological
research received such funding (Goody 1995). Anthropological methods and anthropological knowledge have nevertheless, at various times,
been deemed useful by governments and business leaders, most recently
in the Human Terrain System of the US military forces in Iraq and
Afghanistan, where practitioners from anthropology (and other subjects)
were drawn upon to enhance knowledge of local circumstances in war
areas. Deeply controversial among American anthropologists, studied
and criticised thoroughly by one of the anthropologists interviewed by
Sindre Bangstad in this book (Price 2011), the HTS was denounced in a
statement issued by the American Anthropological Association in 2007.
The fundamental ethics of anthropological research is not compatible
with legitimation of wars, nor are the ethics of feldwork compatible with
spying.
In a sense, anthropologists have always engaged with publics outside
of anthropology. Sometimes, this has led to their academic marginalisation—one could easily be written off as intellectually lightweight if one
got involved in advocacy or applied work, say, for development agencies—and there has, as noted by many (e.g. Pels and Salemink 1999,
Borofsky 2011), been a clear, and arguably unproductive, tendency to
rank pure research above applied research. Similarly, the hierarchy ranking tough academic writing for people in the know above lucid writing
for the general public, is also debatable. Most of the anthropologists
who are widely read by students may have put most of their intellectual energy into basic research and theory, but they have coexisted with
other, no less important anthropologists, who either went out of their
way to establish a broader dialogue about the human condition, or who
actively sought to mitigate suffering and contribute to social change.
Public anthropology as such is, in other words, not something new.
Nevertheless, the problematisation of distinctions that were formerly
taken for granted, notably between ‘pure’ and ‘applied’ work, and the
development of a refexive and critical discourse about the ways in which
anthropology can be made relevant outside the academy, has been on the
rise in recent years. This development cannot be attributed to isolated
initiatives such as Borofsky’s Public Anthropology project, but must
x Foreword
be understood as a broader structural tendency. Already in the 1980s,
anthropologists working in the Global South noted that many of the
people they came into contact with had highly articulated and refexive views of their own history, culture and identity. They certainly did
not feel the need for anthropologists to identify who they were; in many
parts of the world, local intellectuals had indeed read some anthropology
and were familiar with its concepts. They were able to identify themselves
and use some of the tools offered by anthropology to develop their own
existential and political agendas, and did not see why they should need
foreigners to do the job for them.
In our world of multiple transnational networks and global fows, the
fction of ‘us, the knowers’ and ‘they, the objects of study’, which was
always objectionable, has now become untenable, and anthropologists
now venture into felds, and delineate their topics of inquiry, in ways
that were unheard of only a generation ago (see MacClancy 2002 for a
sample). As Sam Beck and Carl Maida (2013) put it, the contemporary
world is in every sense borderless. The consequences of the destabilisation
of boundaries for the anthropological endeavour are many, and some of
the most important consequences become evident in the debates around
public anthropology: Who can legitimately say what, and on whose behalf
can they say it? What are the benchmark criteria for good ethnography?
What can anthropologists offer to the societies they study? And—in a very
general sense—what is the exact relationship between anthropological
research and the social and cultural worlds under study? These questions,
which were always relevant, have become inevitable, and increasingly diffcult to answer, in the borderless world of the twenty-frst century.
This is not a time for complacency. Anthropology has, in the past, succeeded spectacularly in combating racial prejudices and biological determinism, accounting for—and, at least in the case of Margaret Mead,
contributing to—cultural change, and throwing unexpected analogies
and thought-provoking contrasts into the world, sometimes succeeding in ‘making the exotic familiar and the familiar exotic’. Our failure
to defne a single public agenda over the last decades—and I am using
the word public loosely, to include the media, politics, students and general intellectual debate—is actually quite serious. It does not mean that
anthropologists are, generally, working with useless and irrelevant topics, that they are engaged in a self-enclosed activity of high sophistication
akin to the ‘glass bead game’ described in Herman Hesse’s last and most
important novel, Das Glasperlenspiel, translated into English variously
Foreword xi
as The Glass Bead Game and as Magister Ludi. The glass bead game has
no ulterior point beyond that of allowing its players to display their dazzling skill and intellectual dexterity, and as the novel shows so clearly, the
single-minded commitment to the game demanded of its players make
them unft for living in the world. Among other things, Hesse’s novel
was clearly a comment on self-enclosed, self-congratulatory academic
pursuits with little relevance beyond the academy. Novelists and poets
have been known to regard literary studies, not least in their poststructuralist versions, in such terms. But anthropology? Well, clearly no. What
attracted many of us to anthropology in the frst place—the possibility to
raise fundamental philosophical questions while simultaneously engaging
with the world of real existing people—is still there.
It is on this background that Sindre Bangstad’s public conversations
with renowned anthropologists, which are presented in this volume, represent such an important intervention. The people encountered in this
book, all of them highly regarded for their purely academic production,
have in common an explicit existential engagement, something which
is at stake beyond knowledge production for its own sake. Perhaps it is
true that all good research has an existential dimension; in the case of the
contributors to Bangstad’s book, it is not only driven by curiosity, but by
a wish to use knowledge to make the world a slightly better place. When
Eric Wolf famously, but ambiguously, spoke of anthropology ‘as the most
humanistic of the sciences and the most scientifc of the humanities’, he
may well have had this aspect of the anthropological endeavour in mind.
The nature of ethnographic research presupposes an attitude in the
researcher which goes beyond scientifc curiosity, but rather entails and
indeed requires personal investment into and moral commitment to the
lives of the people with whom the ethnographer engages. It is this moral
dimension, usually understated in published work, that provides anthropology with its privileged position as a tool for interpreting and acting
upon the injustices of the world. This book demonstrates the breadth
and depth of moral engagement in anthropology, but in doing so, it also
shows that the value of views and opinions is rather limited unless backed
by knowledge, and that the kind of high-octane knowledge anthropology offers at its best, is unbeatable when coupled with a strong humanistic moral engagement.
Oslo, Norway Thomas Hylland Eriksen
xii Foreword
References
Beck, Sam, and Carl A. Maida, (eds.). 2013. Toward Engaged Anthropology.
New York: Berghahn.
Borofsky, Robert. 2011. Why a Public Anthropology? Kindle Book, Center for
Public Anthropology.
Eriksen, Thomas Hylland. 2006. Engaging Anthropology: The Case for a Public
Presence. Oxford: Berg.
Goody, Jack. 1995. The Expansive Moment: Anthropology in Britain and Africa
1918–1970. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Lassiter, Luke Eric. 2005. Collaborative Ethnography and Public Anthropology.
Current Anthropology 46 (1): 83–116.
Low, Setha, and Sally Engle Merry. 2010. Engaged Anthropology: Diversity and
Dilemmas. Current Anthropology 51(2): 203–226.
MacClancy, Jeremy (ed.). 2002. Exotic No More: Anthropology on the Front Lines.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Mills, David. 2006. Dinner at Claridges? Anthropology and the ‘Captains
of Industry’, 1947–1955. In Applications of Anthropology: Professional
Anthropology in the Twenty-First Century, ed. Sarah Pink, 55–72. Oxford:
Berghahn.
Pels, Peter, and Oscar Salemink (eds.). 1999. Colonial Subjects: Essays on the
Practice of Anthropology. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.
Pink, Sarah. 2006. Introduction: Applications of Anthropology. In Applications
of Anthropology: Professional Anthropology in the Twenty-First Century, ed.
Sarah Pink, 3–26. Oxford: Berghahn.
Price, David. 2011. Weaponizing Anthropology: Social Science in Service of the
Militarized State. Oakland: AK Press.
xiii
Acknowledgements
This anthology is the result of extensive collaboration between a wide
range of scholars from various felds and disciplines based at a great number of institutions and departments in Norway and affliated with various civil society organisations. Among these institutions are the Centre
For Studies of Holocaust and Religious Minorities (the HL-Centre)
in Oslo, the Department of Social Anthropology at the University of
Oslo (SAI), the Department of Social Anthropology at the University
of Bergen, the Fafo Institute For Applied Social Research in Oslo, the
Norwegian Centre For Human Rights in Oslo, the Faculty of Theology
at the University of Oslo, the Norwegian Institute For International
Affairs (NUPI), the Peace Research Institute Oslo (PRIO), the Centre
For Development and The Environment (SUM) at the University of
Oslo and Oslo and Akershus University College (HiOA), Minotenk,
NorLarNet (Norwegian Latin-American Research Network), the
Norwegian Council For Africa and the Norwegian Centre Against
Racism (ARS). My frst thanks go to former senior editor Mireille Yanow
at Palgrave MacMillan New York for taking this monograph on in the
frst place, and for her successor Alexis Nelson for steering the ship
towards completion. The Fritt Ord Foundation, which provided the core
funding for the series in public anthropology on which this anthology
is based from 2009 through to 2014, deserves to be acknowledged, as
does the House of Literature in Oslo, which hosted the series. It was
Thomas Hylland Eriksen—or rather the energetic public image of
Thomas Hylland Eriksen on Norwegian television—who spurred my
xiv Acknowledgements
interest in pursuing a career in anthropology. He deserves to be singled
out for special praise for not only providing an excellent preface to this
edited volume on short notice, but also for providing an untiring and
unsparing embodiment of and commitment to public anthropology not
only in Norway but also internationally over the years. Like so many
other Norwegian social anthropologists, I owe a tremendous debt of
gratitude to Thomas for providing a bright, original and playful example
of what public anthropology can be over many years.
In developing this series as well as the resulting anthology, I have had
the immense privilege of working with a tremendously dedicated and
distinguished group of scholars. My thanks go to Matti Bunzl, John L.
and Jean Comaroff, Magnus Marsden, Salwa Ismail, John R. Bowen,
Arzoo Osanloo, Richard Ashby Wilson, Claudio Lomnitz, David H.
Price, Didier Fassin, Ruben Andersson, Angelique Haugerud and Parvis
Ghassem-Fachandi.
I am also extremely grateful to Didier Fassin, Ruben Andersson,
Angelique Haugerud and Parvis Ghassem-Fachandi for agreeing to the
time-consuming work of responding to my extensive questions on e-mail
on relatively short notice.
Among my co-operating ‘partners in crime’ in Norway have been,
Thomas Hylland Eriksen, Kristian Berg Harpviken, Oddbjørn Leirvik,
Sevda Clarke, Knut G. Nustad, Marit M. Melhuus, Benedicte Bull, Bjørn
E. Bertelsen, Paul Wenzel Geissler and Karin Kapadia.
For their extensive co-operation and support, I also wish to thank
Cora Alexa Døving, Rune Flikke, Linda Noor, the late Amin El Farri,
Michael R. Seltzer, Bjørn Olav Utvik, Morten Bøås and Halvor Berggrav.
Special thanks are due to Cato Fossum and Eric McKinley for diligent
work on transcripts.
Last but not least, thanks to my wife and daughters for light and
laughter in dark times.
Due to copyright issues, three articles in these series meant to have
been included in this volume had to be left out. These were published as:
Sindre Bangstad and Matti Bunzl (2010) ‘Anthropologists Are
Talking About Islamophobia and Antisemitism in the New Europe’,
Ethnos 75 (2): 213–228;
Sindre Bangstad, Thomas Hylland Eriksen, John L. and Jean
Comaroff (2012) ‘Anthropologists Are Talking About Anthropology
and Post-Apartheid South Africa’, Ethnos 77 (1): 115–36;
Acknowledgements xv
Sindre Bangstad, Oddbjørn Leirvik and John R. Bowen (2013)
‘Anthropologists Are Talking About Islam, Muslims and Law in
Contemporary Europe’, Ethnos 79 (1): 138–157.
In addition, this series created the impetus for an interview published as:
Sindre Bangstad and Lila Abu-Lughod (2016) ‘Ten questions about
anthropology, feminism, Middle East politics, and publics’, American
Ethnologist (Online), Nov 22, 2016. Available as: http://americanethnologist.org/2016/lila-abu-lughod-interview/.