This is the third in a series of posts looking at the way Yolŋu people consider issues of blame and responsibility. You can find the introduction here, and the case study, here.
In the following, part three, I will work back through the anatomy of events in the case study using the Bernard Wiener’s framework for ‘the responsibility process’ – who was rebuked or punished? Who was considered blameworthy? And finally, what did people determine was the cause of the event that triggered reparatory action in the first place?
Who was rebuked or punished?
The first question to ask is who was rebuked or punished. Recall that Gaymarani’s younger brother, Ḏikarr, was physically attacked by his two older brothers out on one of the community streets. The following day Gaymarani’s alleged lover, Ḻäwuk, was given a public hiding by her two older sisters. Of subsequent note is that Ḻäwuk was shamed by Gaymarani’s mother, Batjikali, who was then, in turn, reproached by her older brother, Rawala. The punishment handed out to Ḻäwuk and Ḏikarr, as we will see, reflects the allocation of blame as marked by commentary at the time. This, along with the public nature of hidings and the fact that the victims did not fight back, nor onlookers come to their defense, suggests to me that these were acts of what Basil Sansom refers to as moral violence (1980: 92-102). ‘Acts of moral violence’, Sansom writes, ‘have a judicial character. They are due punishment, executed with due attention to formal witnessing by others’ (1980:92). Continue reading →
The anthroblogosphere is still a pretty quiet this week, but some (like Merrill Singer and Agustín Fuentes) have seemingly picked up some of the slack. Definitely give their articles a read, as they have some pretty important messages to impart. If you have an important messages to impart, preferably in the form of blogs or news articles, send them my way for next week’s digest at email@example.com or on Twitter at @dtpowis.
[This is the second in a series of posts looking at the way Yolŋu people consider issues of blame and responsibility. You can find part one here.]
The setting for this case study is a remote island community in Arnhem Land, Northern Australia. The population of the community is approximately 2,124. This is one five larger central communities in a region characterised by networks of significantly smaller remote Aboriginal Homeland communities.
‘There had been gossip for some months that Gaymarani, who is married with twin boys (around six years old), had been running around with a secret lover. Gaymarani’s wife, Gayit, had been jealousing and arguing him about the rumours for months. Despite Gaymarani insisting that there was no truth to these claims, the rumours persisted and gained currency.
On this particular morning Gayit crossed paths with Gaymarani’s alleged lover, Ḻäwuk, out on one of the well-worn community streets. There was a heated verbal exchange between the two women, witnessed by the ever-public community of kin. The story was and the word spread that Ḻäwuk had called Gayit a ‘skinny’ woman. Gaymarani did not want Gayit anymore, Ḻäwuk claimed, and was going to throw her in the rubbish. She – that is, Ḻäwuk – was his rumbal (true, torso, trunk) woman. The situation was dhukun-mirri (spoiled, soiled, a mess’d). Continue reading →
Anthropologists are good at critiquing other anthropologists and themselves. We have a lot to be guilty about and we do a good job of pointing that out. The politics of anthropology, and the politics of the politics of anthropology are a major part of what we do. In fact, we’re so good at doing it that I think at times we forget what we have actually done wrong. We spend more time reading dismissals of our ancestors than we do the ancestors themselves.
One of my most memorable moments in graduate school was when Fredrik Barth — who I have a lot of respect for — came to give a talk to our department. The highlight for me was when he was describing how much he enjoyed spending time with people in Papua New Guinea during his fieldwork there. They were, he said, friendly and “the most wonderful shade of brown.” I think he was trying to be provocative and he succeeded — there was an audible gasp from the brown anthropologists in the room, as well as from pretty much everyone else.
[Savage Minds welcomes guest blogger Bree Blakeman. Bree recently submitted her Ph.D. through The Australian National University in Canberra, though you may know her from her more usual online incarnation, as author of the blog Fieldnotes and Footnotes. This is the first in a series of posts looking at the way Yolŋu consider issues of blame and responsibility.]
I have been thinking a lot about comparative concepts of responsibility lately, particularly in light of recent publications on morality and ethics. Given this, and the fact my political and theoretical views get airing-enough elsewhere, I thought I would take this opportunity to share one of my favourite ethnographic case studies to give a sense of the way that Yolŋu people consider issues of blame and responsibility. To this end I will present an unfolding ethnographic drama over a series of posts.
The case study itself describes a big ‘blow up’ fight between a young married couple which ends with responsibility being attributed in a way that seems counter-intuitive to the observer or reader. The exegesis will take the reader back through the anatomy of events to show how the attribution of responsibility actually makes complete sense when cast or couched in local terms. The last post will be a few brief concluding remarks on the notion of causality. Continue reading →
Hello folks. May I present to you the weekly review of the internet’s best (or most interesting) articles and materials for your consumption. If you have something that you want to share for next week, hit me with an email (firstname.lastname@example.org) or on Twitter at @dtpowis.
Shore, Bruce M. 2014. The Graduate Advisor Handbook : A Student-centered Approach. Chicago: University of Chicago Press
I’m a big fan of the University of Chicago Press’s series on academic life (disclosure: this may be because I went there for graduate school). Their series on writing, editing, and publishing features several of my favorite titles, and their younger series on ‘the academic life’ has also gotten off to a good start. So I was optimistic about Bruce Shore’s The Graduate Advisor Handbook: A Student-Centered Approach. Having read it (disclosure: I received a free review copy), I don’t feel like it’s the Final Statement In Human History About Advising Graduate Students. But I do strongly recommend that you read it, especially if you are new faculty or a new graduate student trying to get a grasp of what good advising looks like. Continue reading →
That being said, the conversation on BDS is far too important to be fully covered in four short blog posts. We would like to thank everyone who took the time to read carefully and respond respectfully, either in the comments or privately, to seek out further clarification on these important issues.
In this last post, we will attempt to answer some of the most common questions we have received. If you have a question that is not answered below, please leave a comment and let’s continue to have this serious conversation about how best to respond to ongoing Israeli mass violations of human rights. Continue reading →
Last week I sent out a job app, well, internship app to be truthful. After all I’m a grad student again. But its significant to me because it was the first one I have applied to in the field of archives. I am just now wrapping up an internship at a museum library and being that this is the first time I’ve written a cover letter for an archives position I sought out one of the senior archivists for advice. We talked about what sort of language to use, making sure I could describe the work I had already accomplished with the proper jargon.
Then he said, “And you should say something about your heritage. You’ve probably already got a couple of lines you’ve worked out. Make sure you put that in there too.” I knew exactly what he was talking about.
I think, maybe this is a defining quality of white ethnicity in the US: in certain circumstances you have the option of unlocking minority status or else opt to coast on white (male) privilege. Which version of “me” do I want to deploy in such-and-such a context? In the case of a job letter without a name that marks you as “other” it is your privilege to have the agency to chose the minority identity. Such as it is.
I did, indeed, have a couple of lines already worked out from previous letters. But to be perfectly honest I haven’t really used that language in years. This was a letter writing strategy that I employed very reliably as an ABD, particularly in the days when I was applying to everything. As time passed, I changed, my letters changed. I had other things to say. Continue reading →
I’m starting the process of relocating, so thanks for your patience. Here’s what you may have missed: a digest of some of the best of what the internet has to offer anthropologists this week. If you have something that you’d like me to share next week, send me an email at email@example.com or on Twitter @dtpowis.
In our previous posts, we made the argument that the American Anthropological Association (AAA) ought to endorse the united Palestinian call to boycott, divest from, and sanction Israel for its ongoing occupation of Palestinian territories and systematic legal discrimination. Over the past few weeks, we have unfortunately received more horrifying reminders of why this sort of external pressure needs to be brought to bear and urgently. The situation requires the sort of exigent and effective external pressure that BDS can provide, and so the AAA ought to do what it can. Full stop.
That said, as a great many anthropological writings remind us, we should still look to our past as an organization – both our successes and our failures – to guide our response to the present situation. In the last of our regular posts, then, we will argue that endorsing the united Palestinian call for BDS represents a continuation of the best principles and traditions of the AAA. Continue reading →
[This is an invited post by John Postill. John is a Vice-Chancellor’s Senior Research Fellow at RMIT University, in Melbourne. He is currently writing a book titled Hacker, Lawyer, Journalist, Spy: Freedom Technologists and Political Change in an Age of Protest. He blogs at media/anthropology.]
Two and a half years ago, TIME magazine declared 2011 to be The Year of the Protester. From the Arab Spring or Spain’s indignados to the Occupy movement, this was undoubtedly a year of political upheaval around the world.
But 2011 was also an important year for a new global vanguard of tech-minded citizens determined to bring about political change, often in connection with national crises. Let us call these citizens, at least for the time being, freedom technologists.
Consider, for instance, the loose network of freedom technologists who spearheaded the Tunisian uprising. On 28 November 2010, after long years of struggle under one of the world’s harshest regimes, the lawyer and blogger Riadh Guerfali created the site TuniLeaks. A WikiLeaks spin-off, this site released US diplomatic cables that were highly embarrassing to Ben Ali’s autocratic regime. These leaks helped to prepare the protest ground. The trigger came through the actions of another freedom technologist, veteran activist Ali Bouazizi, who recorded on his smartphone the self-immolation of his cousin Mohamed, a street vendor. He then shared the video via Facebook, where it was picked up by journalists from Al Jazeera – barred from entering Tunisia – and broadcast to the whole nation (and the rest of the Arab world). Al Jazeera’s freedom technologists relied on blogs and social media to bypass the official restrictions and report on the fast-moving events on the ground. When the government censored Facebook, the transnational online group Anonymous launched Operation Tunisia, carrying attacks against government websites via dial-up connections provided by Tunisian citizens.
This post isn’t just another lament about the sorry state of the job situation in the academy. The US is undoubtedly undergoing a crisis on that front, accentuated by the huge increase in the numbers of people completing PhDs in liberal arts subjects and the scale of student debt. The effects of this crisis spill over into what is now a global market in academic jobs. This is clearly evident in the UK where the numbers of applicants for academic posts in anthropology frequently reach well over one hundred, compared to perhaps fifty or sixty only a decade previously.
The problem is partly structural- the mismatch between numbers and posts on the one hand, and the impacts of selective shrinkage in the University sector on the other. But demand is also a factor. People continue to study at graduate level because they are motivated by research as much as anything. Doctoral study isn’t only about entry into formal academic employment, in any discipline. And, while the casualization of higher education is a concerning trend, in the US and beyond, it’s not the only issue. It’s hard to imagine under what economic system there could ever be sufficient secure jobs in the university sector for those with higher degrees at a time when it seems that more people than ever are pursuing postgraduate research.
This doesn’t mean giving up and not trying to get a university post, if that’s what you really want. But it does entail a healthy dose of realism combined with the practical career building tips of the sort offered so eloquently by Karen Kelsky aka The Professorisin whose site I wholeheartedly recommend. Having been on the other side of the job process over the past year, as a search committee member and chair of a department, I’m going to offer a few of my own. The first is optimistic, if you are an anthropologist at least.
I survived Georgia, and it appears that it’s been another slow week on the anthroblogosphere. Here’s what I’ve managed to put together for your reading pleasure. If you have an article you’d like me to review for next week, shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org or on Twitter @dtpowis.