The object of archaeology?

What does an archaeologist do? What, exactly, is it that one studies? More poignantly, why do we care? This is seemingly at the core of a self-reflective archaeology as alluded to by Ian Hodder in "Archaeological Theory in Contemporary European Societies; the Emergence of Competing Traditions" and Ann Brower Stahl's "Introduction: Changing Perspectives on Africa's Past."

Importantly, Hodder concludes that there is a certain level of objectivity whereby our understanding of the past in the present time is informed by the remains from the past: "...the experience of the archaeological data and the patterning observed in the past do more than resist our ideas; they help create them" (22). However, is this a satisfying response to his previous statement that "The past is undeniably social, as is the practice of archaeology" (20)? He seems to claim that there is indeed some middle ground between the objective presence of material remains from a past existence and the socially-affected discipline of archaeology. However, with considerations such as "...the history of theories used in archaeology cannot be separated from the concrete conditions of practical research or from the social functions of archaeology in society" (21), how in fact can this objective-subjective dichotomy be mediated? Hodder claims that "The continuities we claim with the past have in part been created by that past. Archaeological science involves a dialectical relationship between past and present. The hermeneutic circle is not a vicious one" (22). This seems to be a logical fallacy, however, if the continuities we claim to have with a given past are in fact up to an interpretation of that past. Where does the science come into archaeology? How is that dialectic any different than the discourse that Said discusses on the matter of Orientalism?

If the object of archaeology is a past that is uncovered and interpreted in the present, is not any continuity drawn between this present and that past merely a structure of rhetoric and interpretation? The process that Hodder seems to rectify as in some way objective is anything but. It is a reflexive discourse, as is Said's Orientalism. We are the present, they are the past. We observe and study them through our lens. As the speakers for the past, we describe it and analyze it. Where, exactly does the data come in? How is this any different than an Orientalist discourse?

To be fair to Hodder, he does acknowledge this to an extent by inscribing: "The attempt to embed material events within the whole framework of meaning in which they were once situated clearly involves the analyst in a double hermeneutic in which 'their' and 'our' understandings are gradually accommodated in a moving double circle. This process of double reading has to be critically aware" (18). Is this not a method of navigating the vicious hermeneutic circle that Hodder eventually rejects? Poignantly, the process of archaeology is, indeed, a moving, reflexive discourse. It seems that there is no mere moment of archaeological objectiveness, but more so an ongoing, reflexive, discursive, hermeneutic enterprise. Is this not the history that Hodder so sensitively describes of his account of European archaeology?

So, this does not give an answer to any question asked originally as to what and why archaeologists study. There is seemingly no object of archaeology. The only objective to be found here is that it is a discourse among as many interpreted evidences as possible, characterized as 'data,' and with that to define, redefine, and question a past that is interpreted in the present. Likewise, these are the sorts of systematic problems that Stahl faces in prefacing an account of African archaeology. She considers knowledge to be always interested; i.e., the object of an analysis is determined "... by the social, political, and economic contexts..." of the subject (2). The conclusions drawn from such analyses are presented as universal, objective conditions, or 'knowledge,' but really "...the universal emerges NOT from widely documented shared features, as we might at first imagine, but rather from the elevation of a shared instance or example to stand for the universal" (6).

As for a capacity for archaeologists to do some study of worth, as heretofore they have been perhaps unfairly treated in this reflection, they consider sources--or perhaps objects--of a past, some of which are privileged over others. The direct sources are those privileged over indirect ones, having been produced in the temporal realm of concern. These data points that Hodder perhaps designates too much of an objectivity for, are by no means such. However, their presence and usage in an archaeological endeavor is not to be unsubstantiated, but reconsidered. To reckon with these qualms, Stahl wisely places such archaeological 'data' in its rightful place by claiming, "Archaeological sources...provide valuable independent evidence against which to assess models of the past." The insistence here is on her use of the term models. To bring this discussion to a more hopeful end with regards to the place and function of archaeology, if we are to study 'the past' as models of such rather than an objective sort, and the evidence from which as artifacts to be questioned, analyzed, and interpreted for or against certain models, than in fact archaeology can have an exuberant worth insofar as it acquires and exploits data while questioning it and the meaning thereof.

With this in mind, Stahl puts it far better than I could attempt to here, and will therefore end as she does. Her considerations are universal, however. For archaeology to succeed and have relevancy, it must be a subjective study of the subjective. As one would advise the insecure and miserable pubescent boy, accept and pride in who you are. For archaeology to reach the level of adulthood, it must accept what it is and what it is not. It is an anarchical endeavor, no right or wrong, this or that, us or them. Archaeology is, indeed, the study of everything. It is only different insofar of its perspective. Thus, perhaps archaeology is more suited as a frame of mind than a discipline unto itself. Anyway, rather than belabor this point, Stahl has some words to comfort us all in the throes of archaeological existential crises:

"Africa's pasts speak to us--conceived as an encompassing 'circle of we'--not for what they tell us about teleologically conceived universal progress, or quintessential difference and diversity conceived as a departure from an ever-present phantom standard of 'us-ness.' Rather they offer insight into our humanness; to the struggles of humans as social actors to feed and care for family, to express commonalities and differences, to impose or resist power and hegemony, in short, to make our way in a world of entangled and changing natural and cultural circumstances" (16).

Hybridity within the Archaeological Record

            Based on Edward Said’s characterization of colonialist thought in Orientalism and Matthew Liebmann’s definitions of postcolonialism in the introductory chapter of Archaeology and the Postcolonial Critique, the primary difference to me between these two paradigms is the tendency to dichotomize versus hybridize the cultures of colonizer and colonized.

            According to Said, encounters of Western colonists with “the Orient,” which he defines in this book as India and the Levant, caused them to assert their distinctive Western-ness. Of course, the distinction of “Western” is vague and arbitrary and, by definition, can only be made relationally; something/someone can only be “Western” with respect to something/someone else. Therefore, “the Orient” is a concept developed by Western colonists as a foil for themselves. It existed only as an Other by which they could define the Self. Orientalism as a field of study, then, is problematic not only because of the outright racism expressed in some of the literature, but because it is inherently Eurocentric. Indian and Levantine cultures are studied as a means by which “the West” can be understood rather than as an end in of themselves. Said expresses the positive feedback cycle that dichotomization initiates:

            When one uses categories like Oriental and Western as both the starting and

            the end points of analysis, research, public policy…the result is usually to

            polarize the distinction – the Oriental becomes more Oriental, the Westerner

            more Western – and limit the human encounter between different cultures,

            traditions and societies (45-6).

            However, the act of colonizing did the exact opposite; rather than isolating the cultures of “East” and “West,” it brought them into constant contact. To me, refutation of this binary in favor of cultural interaction is one of the most important contributions of postcolonalism. Liebmann identifies this “investigation of hybridity in the constitution of postcolonial cultural formations” as one of the three major tenets of this theoretical framework (4). I am interested in how the archaeological record can be used to explore this notion of hybridity, which Liebmann defines as “the new, transcultural forms produced through colonization that cannot be neatly classified into a single cultural or ethnic category” (5). Thus, the whole is greater than the some of its parts and, as Liebmann emphasizes, these parts can be in constant conflict, resulting in instances of anticolonial resistance.

            A zooarchaeological study I am currently working on can be used as one lens through which hybridity can be identified archaeologically. The site of Dixon, New Mexico was first occupied by the Spanish in 1725; however, it had been inhabited by the Tiwa people for centuries prior to European arrival. The entire assemblage is believed to date from the post-colonial period, and yet there is evidence of traditional indigenous hunting techniques occurring contemporaneously with traditionally European domesticates such as sheep, goat, cattle and pig. It is unclear whether or not the coexistence of these two distinct subsistence strategies is due to Spanish appropriation of indigenous techniques, indigenous appropriation of Spanish domestication, or cohabitation, as all have seemingly occurred at other Spanish colonial sites in the area; likely, it is a combination of the three. Regardless, each is a form of hybridity that can be explored within a postcolonial theoretical framework.

            This is just one of the many ways in which archaeology can be used in combination with postcolonial theory to identify instances of hybridity and reconstruct the history of colonization in a non-binary fashion. In fact, in the second chapter of Archaeology and the Postcolonial Critique, Liebmann identifies additional material examples of hybridity from the Spanish colonial Southwest, focusing on the fusion of Catholicism with Puebloan traditions. All of these remarkable histories of confluence and conflict, much more interesting and varied than the colonial “East” versus “West” archetype, would be missed if not for the rejection of these binaries by postcolonial theory.

References:

Liebmann, M. and Rizvi, U. Z., eds. 2008. Archaeology and the Postcolonial Critique. Lanham, MD: 

            AltaMira Press.

Said, E. 1979. Orientalism. New York: Random House.