Social Reconstruction

Stari Most, 16th century Ottoman bridge that was destroyed by Bosnian Croat soldiers in 1993. It was rebuilt in 2004, and is now a UNESCO world heritage site and a prominent symbol of social repair in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Photo by Erin Jessee.

For our final class, we’ll consider anthropological approaches to the subject of social reconstruction in the aftermath of political violence. We’ll begin with Hariz Halilovich’s “Beyond the Sadness: Memories and Homecomings Among Survivors of ‘Ethnic Cleansing’ in a Bosnian Village,” which relates the post-genocide experiences of Edita Hegić to create a “written memorial to all those who perished and an affirmation of those who survived but whose stories would not have been otherwise heard and remembered” (p. 43). Halilovich asks researchers to consider whether – in the course of genocide – memories cannot be perceived as forcibly displaced, and whether this effect is not something that researchers can counter by listening and bearing witness to individual experiences of social suffering. Next, we’ll look at Carolyn Nordstrom’s chapter “The Tomorrow of Violence,” which identifies the various “enduring legacies” of political violence in terms of its impact on individual civilians’ physical and mental health, increased incidences of domestic violence within families, and increased crime rates within communities (p. 224).

But what is largely missing from these very valuable discussions of the long-term legacies of political violence is sustained consideration of individual and communal acts of resilience, social repair, and social vitality. Why might this be the case? To what extent is it perhaps influenced by modern ethnographers’ efforts to resist anthropology’s past trajectory: namely, Nancy Scheper-Hughes criticism that early ethnographers oriented their readers “like so many inverse bloodhounds on the trail and on the scent of the good and the righteous” while ignoring the violence that impacted the daily lives of their participants [1]. And how does this ultimately influence ethnographic understandings of political violence?

Finally, just a polite reminder to please complete your course evaluations before the April 10th deadline, if you haven’t done so already…

[1] Nancy Scheper-Hughes. 2002. “Coming to Our Senses: Anthropology and Genocide.” In Annihilating Difference: The Anthropology of Genocide, ed. A. Hinton, 348-381. Berkeley: University of California Press: 348-349.

Social Death

The Stonetown Anti-Slavery Monument, Zanzibar. Photo by Erin Jessee.

The concept of social death was first articulated by Orlando Patterson in his book Slavery and Social Death to encapsulate the phenomenon whereby slave owners, over time and through the process of complete subjugation, disconnected and alienated their slaves from their origins and heritage. Patterson summarizes slavery as a form of social negation through which slave owners uprooted allegedly inferior peoples from their cultural, historical, political, and environmental contexts, and introduced them as slaves within the slave owners’ communities. Social death then emerges from the realization that the slave’s community and previous way of life no longer exists, and that as a “threat to the moral and social order” of their master’s society, they enjoy only liminal status as symbols of their community’s defeat (Patterson, Slavery and Social Death, 47). Patterson then articulates a four-stage ritual of enslavement that people are forced to go through in becoming slaves, including:

1. the symbolic rejection by the slave of his or her past and former community;
2. a change of name;
3. adoption of a visible mark of servitude; and
4. the assumption of new status within their master’s household.

Claudia Card’s article “Genocide and Social Death” applies this theoretical framework to lived experiences of genocide, arguing that social death is one of the defining features of genocides wherever they may occur. Card argues that genocide poses a particular threat to social vitality because it destroys the multifaceted relationships that create and reinforce individual and community identity. Linda Green’s chapter “Living in a State of Fear,” then examines the “invisible role of fear and intimidation” (p. 105)  and the ways in which civilians and researchers alike can become “socialized to terror” (p. 109), even years following the formal cessation of hostilities. While Green does not speak to the subject of social death, her chapter does contain several important clues to how social death is, at least in part, created and maintained within a community, with devastating long-term effects.

Possible questions for discussion include: How might social death emerge within a community? And how convincing is Card’s argument that social death is a defining feature of genocide? Can social death result from other forms of political violence as well?

Alternative Rememberings

“Monument to the International Community” from the “Grateful Citizens of Sarajevo.” Image taken from Reuters.

On Thursday, we’ll continue our conversation on commemoration by considering alternative forms of remembering as practiced by individuals and community-based organizations (CBOs) during and in the aftermath of mass atrocities. Erin Baines and Pilar Riaño-Alcalá’s article “The Archive in the Witness: Documentation in Settings of Chronic Insecurity” compares strategies used by individuals and CBOs in northern Uganda and Colombia to create and maintain a “living archive” of war and related subjects (p. 412). Next, Anna Sheftel’s piece “‘Monument to the international community, from the grateful citizens of Sarajevo'” examines dark humor as a form of “counter-memory” (p. 145) that is used by Bosnian artists, activists and civilians to resist official narratives of the Bosnian War from 1992 to 1995.

Together, these articles present some alternatives to the commemorative strategies typically privileged as part of the transitional justice toolkit, such as international criminal tribunals and other formal legal institutions, truth and reconciliation commissions, and memorial sites and events. But where do the strengths of these approaches come from? And how well might the proposed models then be applied to other post-conflict settings?

Finally, one of your classmates is working on an online project for her course on Ethical Witnessing. If you have time, please consider visiting her blog / website Are You Idling? and sharing your thoughts on Idle No More, First Nations rights, and related issues of (neo)colonialism, racism and sexism.

Nationalized Commemoration

Wood carving at Murambi Genocide Memorial Centre. Photo by Erin Jessee.

Commemorative events and sites are generally regarded as an essential part of the transitional justice toolkit to be applied in the aftermath of genocide, war and other periods of mass violence. As stated on the International Center for Transitional Justice (ICTJ) website, “victims of human rights abuses cannot forget, and states have a duty to preserve the memory of such crimes.” But when states take control of commemoration events and sites of remembrance, what is being preserved? And to what end? Theorists warn that just as memorialization as a process can promote social reconstruction, it can also “crystallize a sense of victimization, injustice, discrimination, and the desire for revenge” (Barsalou and Baxter, 1).

On Tuesday’s class, we’ll consider processes related to nationalized commemoration, whereby transitional and post-conflict governments – often with the support of the international community – facilitate the creation and maintenance of memorial sites and events that are intended to make public the range of atrocities endured by the population. Judy Barsalou and Victoria Baxter’s report on “The Urge to Remember: The Role of Memorials in Social Reconstruction and Transitional Justice” articulates the often-ignored challenges inherent in commemorative practices in the aftermath of mass atrocities. Rachel Ibreck’s journal article “The Politics of Mourning: Survivor Contributions to Memorials in Post-Genocide Rwanda” examines the varied ways that survivors of the 1994 Rwandan genocide have contributed to the process of nationalized commemoration.

In addition, if you have the time, I’d highly recommend watching Chimamanda Adiche’s Ted Talk ” The Danger of a Single Story,” and browse through the online resource: Genocide Archive Rwanda.

Guest Lecture with Lara Rosenoff: Arts-Based Research Methods Amid Political Violence

Her name is Beatrice. Photo by Lara Rosenoff Gauvin.

On Thursday, Lara Rosenoff – an artist, activist and anthropologist – will be providing a guest lecture on her work in northern Uganda. Lara uses arts-based research methods, collaborating with Acholi youth and elders to create new ways of representing their worldviews and experiences of political violence. The accompanying readings – Lara’s “Rational Witness No More: Social Documentary and War in Northern Uganda” and Ian Crouch’s “The Exchange: Susie Linfield on Photography and Violence” – speak to the challenges of using photography, social documentary and other artistic media to engage with narratives of war and other forms of violence, and disseminate them to an often depoliticized public.

Lara will be giving us a brief overview of her work in northern Uganda and then leading a class discussion. As a starting point, she asks that you frame your blog comments around any questions/hesitations/critiques/confusions you have regarding representation in settings of insecurity and violence.