67 pages • 2 hours read
David Graeber, David WengrowA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Key Figures
Themes
Index of Terms
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Tools
In this chapter, the longest of the book, the authors discuss the origins of the nation-state—the most common form of political and social organization across the globe today. Specifically, they argue that there really is no single origin for the inception of the state as an organizing political force, that there was no inevitable march toward what might appear to be a foregone conclusion. In fact, as their subtitle “The humble beginnings of sovereignty, bureaucracy and politics” implies, the actual story is prosaic. Peoples in separate regions came up with different ways in which to govern and create culture. Like their arguments regarding agriculture, the authors claim that various peoples experimented with forms of government and social organization, sometimes changing their political behaviors over time. They also remind the reader that, in addition to the fact that the nation-state was not inevitable, early forms of bureaucracy and politics often allowed ordinary people a great deal of autonomy.
First, the authors point out that there has never been a consensus on the definition of a state, and many scholars simply assume “that any large and complex society necessarily required a state” (361). This is a notion that the authors refute, arguing that all their previous examples about early foraging societies and the earliest cities provide evidence for various outcomes. However, they also admit that, where large and powerful cities arose, “kingdoms and empires also eventually emerged” in many places (362). Thus, they set out to understand why this was so.
They put forth a theory of three principles that they believe set the stage for the emergence of a state in some form: “control of violence, control of information, and individual charisma” are the foundation of social and state power (365). These link, respectively, to the “sovereignty, bureaucracy and politics” of the chapter’s subtitle.
In a state, these three principles operate in varying degrees. Some places emphasize violence (as in absolute imperial rule), while others emphasize bureaucratic systems (as in colonial enterprises). The authors are careful to note that the ways in which these three principles are formed change according to regional differences. That is, one might find that a city might need a strong administration (bureaucracy) to organize agricultural surplus or technological advancement, which then leads to sovereignty and charismatic politics. But, as their previous arguments suggest, it might also happen that a strong administration pushes another group (as in “heroic societies”) to charismatic politics through the process of schismogenesis before that society adopts a form of sovereign government. In other words, there is no single pathway to becoming a state or empire.
The authors provide archeological evidence from several early societies—from the Bronze Age to ancient Egypt to 16th century Mesoamerica—to support their claims about conquest. They begin with the Mesoamerican cultures and their encounter with the Spaniards in the 15th and 16th centuries. They characterize both the Incan empire and the Aztec culture as organized in a hierarchical fashion, albeit in very different ways. The Incan empire was organized around the sovereign figure of the Sapa Inca, or the Sun King, whose authority was divine and absolute. The Aztecs, in contrast, were managed by a loose oligarchy of families (though Moctezuma would wield the most power at the time of the Spanish encounter).
Both systems of organization left them vulnerable to conquest: “Both were organized around easily identifiable capitals inhabited by easily identifiable kings who could be captured or killed and surrounded by peoples who were either long ago accustomed to obeying orders or, if they had any inclination to shrug off power from the centre, were likely to do so precisely by joining forces with would-be conquistadors” (375-76). Speakers of the Mayan language, in contrast, were a decentralized group of settlements throughout the Yucatan and into Central America; thus, they were much more difficult to conquer entirely. In fact, the authors argue that the history of rebellion in these territories reverberates still yet today in the form of the Zapatista movement for Indigenous rights in the Mexican state of Chiapas.
The authors then return to their continuing objection over the use of certain terminology to describe historical periods or events: “History and archeology abound with terms like ‘post’ and ‘proto,’ ‘intermediate’ or even ‘terminal’” (379). They argue that these terms encourage readers and scholars to view history as a teleological set of progressions toward an inevitable end, that civilizations are either blossoming into being or falling into chaos and decline. The truth, they protest, is much more complicated, and the use of such nomenclature reveals the bias of the (usually European) observer.
For a brief example, they mention the Middle Kingdom period in Egypt, which is often portrayed as a golden era, with the stability of government and the flourishing of artistic achievements. They argue, however, it could just as easily be portrayed as a period in which succession was disputed with violence, taxation was levied in burdensome ways, forced labor was increasingly the norm, and the suppression of ethnic minorities was brutal (381-82).
Last, they suggest that these biases are true of space, as well. That is, when historians and archeologists look to the distant past, they focus on cities, burgeoning states, and empires; they conveniently overlook the fact that most humans of the time were organized in “‘tribal confederacies,’ ‘amphictyonies’ or (if you’re an anthropologist) ‘segmentary societies’—that is, people who systematically avoided fixed, overarching systems of authority” (382). An examination of these liminal (in-between) spaces might be a more “radical account” of human history (382).
The authors continue to make their argument that there was no singular or inevitable pathway to the state by examining several early societies. They provide detailed evidence regarding the Olmec, particularly their development of competitive ball games, to suggest that they had enormous cultural influence over later kingdoms in Mesoamerica, including the Mayans and the Aztecs—but that the Olmec were not, in fact, a “state” or “kingdom” as later societies would become.
Another example from the Americas, the Chavín people, provide a different example of how societies could organize themselves: their influence throughout the Andes region can be found in “the form of images [. . .] rather than in the spread of administrative, military or commercial institutions and their associated technologies” (387). Based on the archeological evidence, the Chavín people developed a shamanistic society, with an emphasis on “retaining control over certain kinds of knowledge” (390). Thus, these are “first-order regimes,” employing only one principle of “social power,” charismatic politics in the case of the Olmec and control of information (in the form of shamanistic knowledge) for the Chavín (391).
The authors also use the example of the Natchez in North America and the Shilluk in the South Sudan region of Africa to demonstrate that, in some societies, there could be kings without real authority over their subjects. That is, “[b]oth the Great Sun [of the Natchez] and the Shilluk reth [king] could act with total impunity, but only towards those in their immediate presence” (396). Their reach extended no further than their personal environs; indeed, their subjects typically operated with a large degree of autonomy.
The authors next turn their attention toward ancient Egypt and how it moved from a city-state to an imperial kingdom. Remarkably, it appears as if Egyptian rule was cemented through the rituals accorded to the dead. First, early kings (before the term “pharaoh” was applied to the role) required that their courtiers, relatives, and others be buried with them. There is archeological evidence for the sacrifice of dozens to hundreds of consorts and subjects in the tombs of these very early rulers. The authors surmise that this practice represents a paradox: “On the one hand, we have a ritual that appears to be the ultimate expression of love and devotion [. . .]. At the same time, these burials are the ultimate demonstration that for a ruler, even his most intimate subjects could be treated as personal possessions” (401-02). Ultimately, the practice represented the ways in which “a ritual designed to produce kinship becomes a method of producing kingship” (402). As dynasties become more established, the practice of human sacrifice trailed off though the elaborate burials continued, replete with the mummified bodies of humans and animals.
In fact, the authors argue, the consolidation of the early Egyptian fiefdoms into one resplendent empire was likely linked to their culture’s reverence and concern for the dead. It was decided, at some point, that ancestors should be fed, so all families were obliged to provide foodstuffs for the deceased. This ritual meant that wheat farming became essential not just for sustenance but also for ceremony; the bread and beer made from grain was in perpetually high demand. This also marked the coming of class distinctions, as some people were forced to borrow money or trade their labor in exchange for enough grain products to care for themselves and their ancestors. This is yet another example, the authors claim, of how the formation of a state (in this case, in the form of an empire), is dictated by specific cultural and regional concerns.
The authors investigate Shang-era China (pre-dynastic China), Classic Mayan civilization, and the Old Kingdom period of Egypt to emphasize their point. In these “second-order regimes,” “two of the three principles of domination were brought together in some spectacular, unprecedented way. Which two it was seems to have varied from case to case” (413). Egypt mixed (often brutal) sovereignty and bureaucracy, while the Mayans “fused heroic politics with sovereignty” (413). The Shang Chinese did something even more unique, relying on divination—the use of oracular bones—to make administrative decisions. In addition, these early regimes did not always follow one straight path toward the state; sometimes they changed course and back again. That is, the fluidity with which these early expressions of government operated is notable. Again, as with the case for agriculture, some of these kingdoms were, in fact, seasonal operations.
The authors also reveal how bureaucratic administration sometimes preceded even the founding of cities. Using the example of Tell Sabi Abyad in present-day Syria, the authors discuss the archeological evidence that shows “central storage facilities, including granaries and warehouses,” as well as proof of how residents kept track of such stores (420). Not only was this society not organized into anything resembling a modern city-state or nation-state, but it also seems to have actively resisted doing so. In other words, the citizens of Tell Sabi Abyad, among other settlements of the time and in the region, elected to retain local rather than sovereign control. There is evidence to be found that this occurred in other regions, as well, as in the Andean village assemblies known as ayllu.
The authors end by commenting on the potential role of women in the formation of early civilizations, defining civilization as not just political organization but also “extended moral communities” (433). The authors suggest that “women, their work, their concerns and innovations are at the core of this more accurate understanding of civilization” (433). Examining Minoan Crete, the authors find an artistic tradition replete with images of powerful women, “depicted at a larger scale than men, a sign of political superiority” (435).
There appear no signs of absolute monarchy or despotic rule. Rather, this Minoan Crete matriarchy focused on “scenes of play and attention to creature comforts” (436). In contrast to the warring city-states of mainland Greece, Minoan Crete eschewed politics for playfulness.
As the authors conclude, “[t]he process usually called ‘state formation’ can in fact mean a bewildering number of very different things” (439).
In this chapter, subtitled “On the historical foundations of the indigenous critique,” the authors return to the ideas in Chapter 2. They reexamine how the encounters between the Indigenous peoples in the Americas influenced European Enlightenment thinking.
On the one hand, the result was that ideas about individual freedom and political autonomy are transformed, leading to political and philosophical revolutions. On the other hand, there was “a backlash among European thinkers which produced an evolutionary framework for human history that remains largely intact today” (441). This casts Indigenous thinkers as “innocent children” (441) and cements the notion that history progresses in teleological fashion toward what the world looks like today.
The authors analyze the work of political scientist James Scott, whose studies on states and their opposite (the “barbarians”) reveal the weaknesses in some of the traditional ways of thinking about civilizations. When grain becomes the primary source around which a society organizes itself, people inadvertently leave themselves vulnerable: “the grain-based kingdoms were fragile, always prone to collapse under the weight of over-population, ecological devastation and the kind of endemic diseases that always seemed to result when too many humans, domesticated animals and parasites accumulated in one place” (444).
Further, during this period of history—from “about 3000 BC to AD 1600”—“it was a Golden Age for the barbarians, who reaped all the advantages of their proximity to dynastic states and empires (luxuries to loot and plunder) while themselves living comparatively easy lives” (445). After AD 1600, after the European incursions into the Americas and the rise of colonial empires, political and economic systems came under a global order. Thus, it is difficult to speculate how the processes that led to the modern nation-state could have developed otherwise—unless one investigates what occurred in the Americas prior to the arrival of the Europeans.
The authors next examine clan systems in Amerindian societies, noting that this system “appeared to be designed to maximize people’s capacity to move, individually or collectively, or for that matter to reshuffle social arrangements” (457). They use what is known as the “Hopewell Interaction Sphere” to examine how early Amerindian societies might have functioned. The vast geometrically precise mounds at Hopewell were created and occupied over centuries, but never organized into “any sort of ongoing village or town” (460). Rather, Hopewell represented a place in which ritual activities and large gatherings occurred at specific times of the year, presumably a time when clans would gather, trade information and goods, and participate in specific rituals. The archeological evidence at Hopewell reveals a variety of distinctive art forms and elaborate burials, a “celebration of difference” (462). These practices come to an end around AD 400, and according to the authors, it may be because Hopewell had served its purpose, bringing together disparate groups to forge “a shared idiom for personal diplomacy, a common set of rules for interacting with strangers” (463). The diplomatic ties between various tribes had been established, and now they were free to develop their own standardized forms of art and expression.
The authors suggest that Hopewell was the model for the emergence of later gathering places, such as Cahokia in the Mississippi Valley. They argue that Cahokia might be considered the first “state” in America, though it began much like Hopewell. However, some groups of people began to settle there, depending on maize farming for their sustenance, and gradually, these groups exhibited hierarchical social organizations; as the authors observe, “[a] few came to resemble tiny kingdoms” (464). The population of Cahokia grew exponentially around AD 1050. The surrounding communities were either engulfed by the city-state or disbursed into single homesteads; thus, the population was almost entirely under the control of Cahokia proper. As the authors observe, “[w]hat’s so striking about this pattern is its suggestion of an almost complete dismantling of any self-governing communities outside the city” (466). Further, as the power of Cahokia grew, violence became more prevalent, and by AD 1150, the city was walled in. Archeological evidence suggests that a long period of warfare and destruction began at this point, and the city was eventually abandoned within a couple of centuries. Whatever happened at Cahokia was enough to keep people away from it for centuries afterwards.
After Cahokia, Amerindian groups organized themselves into smaller, more egalitarian communities, it appears. While many scholars attribute this to “shock of war, slavery, conquest and disease introduced by the Europeans,” the authors argue that, actually, this could be “the logical culmination of processes that had been going on centuries before that” (471). That is, the lessons of Cahokia led Amerindian groups to self-consciously scale down and create societies in which individual autonomy was paramount.
Next, the authors turn to the history of the Osage, examining their complex cosmology and how it contributed to the organization of their villages and ritual gathering places. They relay an account of Osage mythology and how it reveals a desire to “neutral[ize] arbitrary power” and to view their social structure “as a series of legal and intellectual discoveries—even breakthroughs” (480).
The authors compare this to European thought, specifically the French philosopher Montesquieu and his influence on America’s Founding Fathers. Montesquieu set forth ideas about personal liberty and the idea that laws should govern rather than charismatic (and, typically, autocratic or aristocratic) men. As the authors argue, “precisely this sort of thinking was commonplace in North America well before European settlers appeared on the scene” (481).
Last, the authors insist that these complex philosophical notions and political organizations that the Osage and other Amerindian peoples demonstrated were not the result of some state of original innocence, nor were they accidental. Instead, what these tribes were engaging in were self-conscious and sophisticated ways of self-determination.
Even within the general movement away from authoritarian forms of government in Indigenous Amerindian societies, there were exceptions. There is no totalizing method that can be found anywhere. Still, the legacy of Cahokia and the tradition of thoughtful political debate among members of many Amerindian tribes dominated the landscape. And, the authors point out, the ideas expressed by Kandiaronk and others, prevailed: “It would be impossible for a European today, or anyone, really—whatever they actually thought—to take a position like that of the seventeenth-century Jesuits and simply declare themselves opposed to the very principle of human freedom” (492).
In the final chapter (subtitled “The dawn of everything”) the authors summarize their primary arguments, continue to counter long-standing assumptions, and provide a framework for optimism in imagining a new path forward for humanity.
In the opening paragraph, they point out that two myths continue to dominate discussions about the supposed “origins of inequality” within human societies: the Rousseau-esque notion of “a fall from grace” with the advent of large-scale civilizations or a Hobbesian view that, given humanity’s essentially violent nature, civilization “was itself redemptive” (493). Following that, they note that, if Western civilization had really been so attractive, there would have been no need to use brute force and systemic oppression to establish it elsewhere.
The authors go on to again confront the narrative surrounding the Enlightenment, that it represented “a fundamental break in human history”: “The Enlightenment is seen as introducing a possibility that had simply not existed before: that of self-conscious projects for reshaping society in accord with some rational ideal” (495). As they have demonstrated throughout the book, these ideas are embedded throughout human history—they are not, in fact, revolutionary ideas that happened to originate with white male Europeans—and throughout the globe. The authors work to dispel the myths that pre-Enlightenment societies and early human hunter-gatherer societies were necessarily simple and in thrall to supernatural superstitions and entrenched customs. Rather, these societies were extraordinarily diverse, complex, and self-consciously experimental.
In addition, the reason why myths about pre-Enlightenment societies persist is that the social sciences themselves are founded on the flawed premise that its proper area of study is about “the ways in which human beings are not free: the way that our actions and understandings might be said to be determined by forces outside our control” (498). Therefore, “most ‘big histories’ place such a strong focus on technology” (498). Many historians focus on the materials that were used to define an age—stone or bronze or iron, for example—or on a technological revolution that changed society—agricultural or urban or industrial, for example—rather than noting that similarities existed between societies using different materials or technologies (498-99). Knowledge was gained collectively (and, as they argue, much of it amassed by women) and incrementally, not via the achievements of sole geniuses.
The authors make the case that “ritual play” was, in fact, the foundation for many life-altering discoveries by early humans. For example, ceramics were employed as ritual decoration before they were used as practical vessels for cooking and storing; mining was originated by the need for pigments in ritual displays before it became key to extracting metals for tools and weaponry. As the authors state, they were struck by “how, time and again in human history, that zone of ritual play has also acted as a site of social experimentation” (501). Just as certain technologies had their roots in ritual play, so too did the concept of private property. It also informed the ways in which early human societies exercised an extraordinary amount of fluidity—living in vastly different social arrangements at different times of the year—and freedom of movement, of disobedience, and of self-determination.
How did societies became stuck in the current systems of hierarchical governance and the limited freedoms afforded by modern nation-states? First, the authors point to the “gradual division of human societies into what are sometimes referred to as ‘culture areas,’” wherein “[i]dentity came to be seen as a value in itself, setting in motion processes of cultural schismogenesis” (504). This eventually leads to warfare, though the authors are careful to note that warfare between societies was not inevitable and, at various points throughout human history, it seems to be absent.
In their dissection of why and how war became a relative constant, the authors look back to notions enshrined in Roman law—which can also be found in other empires, such as the Han or Aztec. Roman law states that property rights imply that owners of property have absolute rights over it—including the right to destroy such property. This conception of property has its roots in slave law, as the authors reveal in looking at the work of sociologist Orlando Patterson. Thus, rights and freedoms are viewed through the lens of domination, e.g., enslaved people are property and can be destroyed by slave holders at will. Further, this comes to define the household itself: the “very word ‘family’ shares a root with the Latin famulus, meaning ‘house slave,’ via familia, which originally referred to everyone under the domestic authority of a single paterfamilias or male head of household” (510). In this instance, the authors show that the emergence of patriarchal forms of governance, both within the household and outside in the political realm, lead to violence and warfare.
This need not be the case. The authors use an extended analogy, comparing the behavior of the Wendat peoples to the French during the 17th century. While the Wendat also engaged in torture and executions, they only did so against captives of war (and only to male captives; women and children were taken into the tribe). The Wendat noted, with horror, that the French tortured and executed their own peoples. Thus, in the West, violence and dominance are intimately bound up with domestic concerns; that is, men could dominate their wives and children, so too could the state exercise violence over its own people. This was exactly contrary to Wendat ways of thinking.
The authors then return to the conventional argument that the reason why human societies had to organize themselves into hierarchical patterns was the result of scale. When groups of humans become large enough, the reasoning goes, they must create institutions of administration and bureaucracy (institutions of control) to maintain stability and peace. However, as the authors counter, this conventional wisdom does not apply to any number of early settlements; it was simply not the case that the establishment of large urban centers necessarily engendered the need for sovereign, bureaucratic, or political control. Some urban centers relied on one (first-order regimes) or two (second-order regimes) of these forms of control, in varying combinations, but the permutations are many.
Last, the authors reflect on the fact that the reasons why these anomalies throughout human history have not been discussed more thoroughly is that scholars do not have the language with which to describe these different strands of development. Many words writers rely on to describe human relationships and societies—terms like “democracy” or “republic” or “city” or “civilization” itself—are “freighted with historical baggage” that distorts whatever they describe (522).
Thus, the authors try, instead, to ask different questions and to look at seemingly anomalous events in human history as if they were just as crucial to social development as the grand monuments, great temples, and proto-nations most often touted as the foundations of modern social and political arrangements. They end by refuting the myths that inform the understanding of modern society and global inequality.
Not only do the authors point out that there “is no consensus among social theorists about what a state actually is” (359), but also that, if there is such an entity that can be defined as “the state,” its beginnings were, in many places, based on the autonomy of the people and their self-conscious will. Contrary to popular understandings of the origins of the current nation-state, its early iterations were organized in various forms, shifting between modes in different moments of history, and not at all inevitable.
The teleological version of human history—which claims that foraging societies discovered agriculture and then grew their populations to the point where administrative bureaucracy and sovereign rule were necessary—is not supported by the archeological and anthropological evidence. In fact, early civilizations employed various methods of governance, with differing degrees of control, while also experimenting with different political and social arrangements. They also investigate the liminal moments in early human societies—the in-between times that many historians write off as moments of “chaos” or merely ignore—to explore the ways in which early cultures defined and re-defined themselves. Indeed, as the authors remark, speaking of ancient Egypt as an example, “as is so often in history, significant political accomplishments occur in precisely those periods (the so-called ‘dark ages’) that get dismissed or overlooked because no one was building grandiose monuments in stone” (418). There is more to understanding how early human civilizations developed than relying only on what can be found in temples or tombs.
The authors conclude, after comparing evidence from early societies in Mesoamerica, Africa, Ancient Egypt, and China, that the rise of the state took many detours along the way, and that the prevailing understanding of how the contemporary geopolitical order came to be elides the heterogeneity of experience that underlies the process: “Where we once assumed ‘civilization’ and ‘state’ to be conjoined entities that came down to us as a historical package (take it or leave it, forever), what history now demonstrates is that these terms actually refer to complex amalgams of elements which have entirely different origins and which are currently in the process of drifting apart” (431). That is, a more complete understanding of the past, and its relevance to the present (and future), has real-life implications for nation-states today. They argue, convincingly, that people’s lives today are more impacted by forces outside of governmental control, such as credit-rating agencies and NGOs (non-governmental organizations like the International Monetary Fund or World Trade Organization). Capitalist imperatives and corpocratic domination over the movement of money and goods are far more impactful to everyday life than political parties or government edicts.
Returning to the past, the authors investigate alternatives to the typical story of how civilizations and states came to be. They conduct an in-depth analysis of the early Amerindian city-state, Cahokia, and its legacy on Amerindian society up until the encounter with Europeans. As they note, ominously, “[w]hatever happened in Cahokia, it appears to have left extremely unpleasant memories. Along with much of its bird-man mythology, the place was erased from any later oral tradition” (468). Further, the territory in which Cahokia once resided was “referred to in the literature as the Vacant or Empty Quarter” and became “devoid of permanent human settlement” (468). The archeological evidence suggests that Cahokia ruled through violence and domination, and ultimately, collapsed in a sudden and total manner. In the aftermath of this failed experiment with authoritarian rule, it appears as if the Amerindians returned to living in smaller settlements, making the conscious decision to enact forms of government that prevented hierarchical control and promoted democratic debate.
Thus, by the time of the European incursions, the Amerindians had developed “indigenous doctrines of individual liberty, mutual aid, and political equality” (482). These doctrines greatly influenced Enlightenment thinking, as reports from missionaries, explorers/invaders, and intellectuals alike made their way back to France and elsewhere in Europe. However, what followed was a misinterpretation of how the Amerindians had reached this state of affairs. As the authors argue, the processes “were neither [. . .] the way all humans can be expected to behave in a State of Nature. Nor were they (as many anthropologists now assume) simply the way the cultural cookie happened to crumble in that particular part of the world” (482).
In the first instance, this reversion to romanticized, Rousseau-esque visions of an Edenic, innocent pre-civilized culture undermines the intellectual capacity and sophisticated political traditions of the Amerindians. In the second instance, it erases the individual and regional specificity in which these philosophical and political traditions arise; the lessons of Cahokia loom large. As the authors argue, these doctrines are “the product of a specific political history: a history in which questions of hereditary power, revealed religion, personal freedom and the independence of women were still very much matters of self-conscious debate, and in which the overall direction, for the last three centuries at least, had been explicitly anti-authoritarian” (482).
In the concluding chapter of the book, the authors continue to explore the problematic question of how most societies today came to be stuck in a single political formulation (the nation-state), which ultimately promulgates systemic social inequality. One of the reasons, they suggest, is how the West embraced Roman Law, with its roots in systems of slavery and patriarchy. That is, structures of violence and care (for slaves as well as for family) are intimately intertwined in Western culture: the husband can dominate and punish the slave, or the wife, or the children, just as the state itself can dominate and punish its citizens. This is in direct contrast to some Amerindian societies, like the Wendat, whose use of domination and violence is reserved only for outsiders, those captured in battle or conquest. For them, “[p]risoner sacrifice was not merely about reinforcing the solidarity of the group but also proclaimed the internal sanctity of the family and the domestic realm as spaces of female governance where violence, politics and rule by command did not belong” (513). The Wendat were no less violent than their European counterparts, with men, women, and even children participating in the torture of captives; it is just that their violence was exercised for vastly different purposes—the strengthening of communal bonds rather than the domination of cultural equals.
The authors conclude by suggesting that many scholars simply do not want to grapple with these complicated issues because there is “the lack of an appropriate language” (522). Some terms, like “equality” or “democracy” are vague, while others, like “civilization,” are freighted with the historical baggage of imperialism, colonialism, and the racist assumptions that accompanied those European projects. Still, they insist that attempting to find the language to describe the implications of recent discoveries in archeology, along with new interpretations of anthropological studies, will allow historians, scholars, and laypeople alike to look past the mythologizing of human history and see the possibilities—for egalitarian cooperation, for individual autonomy, for more humane systems of governance—inherent in the actual historical record.
Anthropology
View Collection
Business & Economics
View Collection
Class
View Collection
Class
View Collection
Community
View Collection
New York Times Best Sellers
View Collection
Philosophy, Logic, & Ethics
View Collection
Politics & Government
View Collection
Science & Nature
View Collection
Sociology
View Collection
The Best of "Best Book" Lists
View Collection