Abstract
This essay examines the anthropology of Russia and Eastern Europe two decades after the end of the Cold War. It discusses how the ideology and political pressures of that era continue to influence and distort the discipline, hindering social science advances in the comparative study of empires and the development of cultures and social systems. The essay reviews a representative book in the field and uses it as a take-off point for examining the politicization and stagnation (or disintegration) of a discipline, which should be both a comparative and predictive science as well as a “humanities” subject that answers basic questions about how to improve human societies and define “development” and “progress.” This review also offers a set of guidelines on how anthropology can be improved to refocus on meeting human intellectual and social aspirations.
Keywords
Introduction
It is now two decades since the end of the Cold War and the classification of the world by social scientists for the political purposes of fighting that war. The classification schemes created during this period worked not only to assure the political loyalty of scholars in what was described as the “free world,” the “First World,” and “capitalist” countries. They also frustrated the comparison study of imperial and industrial societies that challenged these political labels. Without such comparative objective work on development and change processes, many “social sciences” stagnated during that period. Pressures were also brought to bear on scholars who did not follow the Cold War line (Berman, 1958; Diamond, 1992; Duncan, 1995; Meyer, 1990; Price, 2004).
During the Cold War, social scientists turned political labels like “Communist” into explanatory variables. They substituted these subjective soft variables for hard, measurable variables, suggesting that entire cultural systems were imposed and accepted overnight by government fiat. In doing so, they reversed the basic tenets of disciplines like anthropology (and evolutionary biology), including the tenet that belief systems evolve as appropriate to environments and material culture within a particular environmental and geographic context, rather than arise independently. The previously established perspective on cultural change was also replaced and reversed by the dogma that ideological slogans themselves could be imposed in a way that would define and change cultures.
Today, a generation later, with the Cold War over, and many of the Cold War ideological distinctions now revealed as meaningless, scholars entering the field hardly remember that period. Yet the same politicization and use of ideological labels characterizes the field and may even be stronger than before. While the end of the Cold War offered a chance to challenge the politicization of anthropology and to move towards objective and scientific study, it appears the opposite has happened. The discipline has remained not only as ideological as before, but it now lacks any semblance of disciplinary standards at all.
Since many societies on the other side of the “Iron Curtain” were closed to study by Western anthropologists as a result of the Cold War, there were few ethnographic studies of the Russians, the Chinese, and the cultures within their empires. Restrictions on fieldwork, the key methodological approach of anthropology, left the study of those cultures to other social sciences and reinforced the political biases and ideologies that those disciplines imposed. Although anthropology was never free of ideological bias, one might argue that its early history as a discipline serving empires and the classification of the peoples within them, nevertheless allowed for a scientific approach in the study of the “developing” or “primitive” societies of the “Third World” and “Fourth World.” *
As a result of the influence of other social science disciplines on area studies, when Russia and the cultures under its influence began to open up for ethnographic study two decades ago, the Cold War ideological pressures influenced anthropologists in the competition for research funds and to publish articles in the area studies journals. * Instead of focusing on the “Russians,” “Germans,” “Vietnamese,” or “Chinese,” there were pressures to study “Soviet culture” or “capitalism” and to avoid any kind of systematic comparisons and scientific analysis that were not compatible with the Cold War paradigms.
Twenty years later, the results are apparent in the field and are discussed, perhaps for the first time in this article. Many anthropologists either continue to promote the Cold War ideology and politics in ways that distort research or they have opted out of undertaking critical studies altogether. They avoid the holistic framework and the critiques of their own cultures that were in the past hallmarks of the discipline. Many anthropologists now pursue approaches that are for the most part journalistic, hedonistic, avoid the holistic study of culture that is the key to anthropology, and are of little relevance to the important political, economic, and social issues of our time and the future of humanity. In doing so, they are failing the discipline and the goals of human intellectual and social progress, substituting short-term political and individual interests.
This essay attempts to examine what went wrong and to discuss the measures that could be taken to hold anthropologists and social scientists again to intellectual and disciplinary standards and to benefits to humanity rather than ideological politics and hedonism. It starts with a general description of the phenomenon currently affecting ethnographic study of Eastern European urban cultures, takes a case study in the form of one recent anthropological work on Russia that is representative of what is happening in the field, and uses it as a springboard for discussion and recommendations for return to a rigorous, objective, and socially responsible discipline promoting understanding and choices in society and development.
Almost 20 years ago, at the founding of a new journal in Political and Legal Anthropology, that journal, PoLAR: The Political and Legal Anthropology Review, invited my critique of the political pressures on post–Cold War anthropology at that time. In an invitation to examine what had changed, more than a decade later, they selected a book for me to review that they saw as representative of the legal and political anthropology of urban Russia today: Melissa Caldwell’s Not by Bread Alone: Social Support in the New Russia, published by the University of California Press (2004). *
Caldwell’s book in my view is neither anthropology nor social science. It is a journalistic account of her volunteer work in a foreign staffed soup kitchen in Moscow. It relies on a framework of ideological labels and slogans about “socialism” and “newness” with few hard variables, little data, and little connection to the constructs of holistic anthropology, models of culture and cultural processes, or comparative scientific analysis. It raises questions about how this kind of study even describes “Russian” culture.
The early version of this essay surveyed the state of the field and offered a constructive outline for improvement. Yet, that constructive critique was denied by current editors of PoLAR and elsewhere throughout the discipline of anthropology. I weave the reasons that were given for rejecting the critique into this essay since they reinforce my criticism of what has gone wrong in the discipline; the stripping of the discipline of real standards and the substitution of ideological politics and unchecked subjectivity. * I suspect that among most contemporary university academics in anthropology, there is an interest in avoiding this critique and in preventing the application of disciplinary standards to current work in the field.
The Journal of Developing Societies has offered me the opportunity to present this essay as a constructive critique of ethnographic and other social science approaches to the study of large industrial cultures like Russia. The hope is that this piece will provoke a vigorous interdisciplinary discussion of how to revitalize the scientific study of large social systems and the meaning and direction of “development” itself (beyond technology, are cultures “progressing” or “regressing”?).
The Anthropology of Russia and Eastern European Cultures Today
In mid-April of 2011, Yale University held a conference entitled “Post Socialist Continuity and Change,” a title that strikes me as absurd. How can ideological labels that may never have had any real content or scientific definition now be used to frame the study of “continuity” and “change” in contemporary cultures? What has happened to the traditional anthropological study of continuity and change in cultures (for example, “Russian culture”)? Culture without such ideological labels was once the subject of study in the discipline of anthropology but not today.
According to the conventions of anthropology, the Russians (a Slavic people, defined by their environment, language, and strategies in that environment) have been a continuous imperial culture for centuries and continue to be, today. The “Soviet” period was simply the name used for certain forms of that empire during the twentieth century when the Russians industrialized and changed their relationship with other European cultures. Other cultures under Russian influence would properly be described as being under Russian cultural (imperial) influence, with those cultural changes examined, rather than simply given another label. To call those under their influence “communist” rather than “Russian influenced” or to call the Russians “socialist” is really just a euphemism for “when they were the 20th century enemy of Western Europe and the U.S.” Similarly, “post-socialist” is a euphemism for “no longer enemy” or “now trading with Western Europe and the U.S.” or “now subject to Western and U.S. hegemony.” That is ideological, one-dimensional, labeling of relationships, not anthropological definition of culture in its complex dimensions and continuity over several generations.
This phenomenon is not limited to just one conference or one journal or even to anthropology. The area studies interest group in anthropology called Soyuz previously focused on what was really the study of the Soviet Russian Empire and its internal colonies and nearby client states. But it has now redefined itself as the “Research Network for Post-Socialist Cultural Studies,” while in a previous incarnation it was the “Post-Communist Cultural Studies Interest Group.” *
Indeed, it may be impossible to do research, teach, or publish scholarship today on Russia or on Eastern Europe if one does not agree with these political labels. Academic publishing today is highly segmented with only a few publishers specializing in disciplines and regions in order to more “efficiently” serve the market. Cold War political and ideological conventions continue to influence the review and publication process. *
The premise of anthropology as a discipline was that it focused on studying “cultures,” which currently number some 6,000, which belong to identifiable human groups distinguished by language and survival strategies within particular environments that have been transmitted over many generations. Among these groups are the “Russians” and the peoples with whom they have historically interacted such as the Poles, the Lithuanians, and the Finns, which have states, and the Yakuts, the Buryats, the Sami, and others, which are stateless. In the former country called the Soviet Union as in the former country of Imperial (Tsarist) Russia, there were Russians, Uzbeks, Estonians, Ukrainians, Jews, and several dozen other cultures. Although the names (and borders) of countries change and groups change religions or ideologies, a basic tenet of anthropology has been to focus on the study of cultural groups like the “Russians.” To do this, one needs to look at cultural groups as a whole, at their strategies of survival in their territories over generations. That has been one of the basic standards of the discipline and it is my starting point for examining any of the books in the field, including Melissa Caldwell’s book. *
The Disappearance of Discipline and History in the Anthropological Study of Russia
Imagine an anthropologist heading off to Samoa without reading Margaret Mead’s seminal work on Samoan culture. Would a dissertation committee approve the research? Imagine a dissertation on the Navajo being submitted without a reference to Clyde Kluckhohn, one of the first ethnographers of the Navajo. Would it have any chance of being approved? Imagine submitting the same proposal on the Navajo from a center that Kluckhohn founded, without even knowing of his work. Imagine a major university press publishing works on anthropology without any mention of recent books written by anthropologists of that university in the same area and other relevant previous work on the subject.
Melissa Caldwell’s Not by Bread Alone represents a new generation of university professors and university publishing that seems entirely unaware of what has gone before and perhaps that is by design. Its long-term consequences over a generation could effectively destroy the discipline or force it elsewhere.
Caldwell has spent years in Russia and in anthropology departments from Harvard to the University of California, Santa Cruz, asking much the same research questions that Margaret Mead asked and wrote about in her research on Russia (Mead, 1952, 1971) and that Clyde Kluckhohn, the founder of the Russian Research Center at Harvard wrote about (Kluckhohn, 1955; Inkeles, Bauer, & Kluckhohn, 1961) – questions about the role of individuals and the State and social networks in Russia. Yet, Caldwell makes no mention of them or of the relevant anthropology of Russia that was written prior to the year she undertook her own fieldwork.
Other than Caroline Humphrey’s ethnography of a collective farm, published in 1983 (whose more recent book in 2002, “The Unmaking of Soviet Life: Everyday Economics After Socialism,” follows or helps set the ideological line for Caldwell’s work), the other seminal ethnographic works on Russia that would be essential reading for anyone in this field and that offer evidence on many of the issues that Caldwell studies are entirely ignored (Balzer, 1992; Dunn, 1967; Lempert, 1995). Earlier accounts of Russian culture prior to the Soviet period are also ignored; either contemporaneous studies (Custine, 1839/1951) or historical cultural studies (Black, 1960; Kingston-Mann, 1991). * Experts in urban studies and human geography that follow a holistic approach to the study of Russian cities, also do not merit her attention, though she situates her study in a Russian city (Cottell, 1968; French, 1979; Morton, 1984; Ruble, 1990). Other related works are short-shrifted (Wedel, 1998; Willis, 1985). *
How could such omissions and disregard have happened at the many different levels of screening that have been built into the discipline specifically to prevent them? Caldwell’s book reflects a profoundly troubling and deeply disturbing phenomenon in anthropology, today. * In the past, anthropology’s predecessors sought to understand and bridge the gaps with the “other” culture by including other social science disciplines that anthropologists Mead, Sorokin, and Kluckhohn bridged when they sought to open the fields of Russian (and Soviet Russian) studies. The work that Kluckhohn authored with political sociologists, Alex Inkeles and Raymond Bauer (1959), was the very essence of this approach and fits perfectly with Kluckhohn’s mission at Harvard in establishing the Russian Research Center. Harvard’s acceptance of Pitirim Sorokin’s (1937, 1944) crossover from law to sociology was a boon to the social sciences and to Russian studies at Harvard. But for Caldwell and many anthropologists today, these founders of the discipline are ignored or erased, in State socialist fashion.
Caldwell’s book on social policies in Russia towards the elderly and the “socially unconnected” touches on important topics in anthropology (on the individual and collective), social welfare (concepts of aid and “poverty” and state versus “private” responsibility) and in development (relation between States and relations between States and “donors”) and Russian culture. But the approach of her book abandons the standards of the discipline of anthropology. Lost are the discipline’s central goals, including those not just of scientific explanation but also of humanistic interpretation and critique. Lost are its holistic methodology, hypothesis testing, and uses of data. Lost is its very definition of “culture” and focus on “Russian culture” as the object of study. Lost are its relations to other disciplines in advancing knowledge as part of a collective human effort. And lost are the forms of presentation (mapping and charts that were once staple in the field). What makes a discipline is its attempt to build on foundations of principles and proof as well as noting previous data, successes, and failures. Without memory and foundations, what remains is simply play or politics. *
What seems to have happened in anthropology is that the conventions were thrown away, perhaps as a consequence of their being politicized, with no objective principles established in their place (Andrade, 1995; Hymes, 1972). According to Andrade, “moral models” (subjective ethics) were introduced into the field in place of science and discipline as a response to the politicization. This is a process that has been ongoing now for more than two decades, and perhaps for double that time. Now, the objective standards of the discipline are gone, replaced by political conformity and personal favoritism. The same politics and ethical lapses that anthropologists said they were fighting have now reappeared, perhaps in an even more dangerous form.
The harsh reality of this book, and many others in contemporary anthropology (including a number of books that Caldwell cites), is that take away the footnotes citing like-minded people and what is left is not really an ethnography. It does not reflect the attributes of a professional discipline. It is much more like the personal journal of an overseas field trip commonly found on the Internet in a web-log or “blog.”
Caldwell’s book sends the unintended message that the discipline of anthropology, and possibly other post–Cold War social sciences, need to go back to basics and recall what the founders of the discipline were trying to do. Members of the field need to both hold themselves and be held by others to a standard that sets them apart from other disciplines and from other professions like journalism. They need to be clear on what it is that makes political or legal anthropology different from the study of law and politics in terms of questions it answers and how those answers promote human progress. Caldwell’s book is, unintentionally, a wake-up call on the influence that the Cold War continues to have on social science, and how politics has perverted and distorted academic discourse. On the specific issues and problems Caldwell sets out to address on social services, on the process of globalism, and on Russian (not “socialist”) culture, her book can be used as a lesson on how to search for answers and how not to.
The Ideological Politics that Substitute for Discipline
Though it may seem overly dramatic to describe Caldwell’s neglect of almost all of the classic and traditional anthropologists who came before her as evidence of a “purge” of the discipline and to write that the paradigms that she and many other anthropologists are using when they refer to countries that were formerly the enemies of the United States (the so-called “socialist cultures”!) are indicative of this “purge,” the impact is largely the same as a purge. Anthropologists have been following an approach that has its roots in the anti-Communist blacklisting which took place in universities at the beginning of the Cold War and that continues in different forms today. The problem is acute in the study of Russia (see Duncan, 1995). Caldwell’s work is an example of how anthropology has been politicized and how publishers and a clique in the discipline are reinforcing this politicization. *
The idea that a political ideology such as “socialism” is actually a “culture,” that cultures can change overnight, that there is now something such as the “New Russia” (the subtitle of Caldwell’s book), and that something like soup kitchens and bread can be the basis of a cross-cutting subdiscipline, are all political creations of the Cold War and now, the post–Cold War period. They are antithetical to the very principles of the discipline of anthropology. The fact that they are still in vogue for so long after the end of the Cold War and are now being passed on to students as the models to copy, is also reason for alarm.
“Socialism” as a Culture
During the Cold War, most of the American social science on Russia and the former Soviet Union was directed towards studying what Harold Berman called the “Devil and Soviet Russia” (1958). “Socialism” and “communism” (and “Stalinism”) became the labels that scholars were to use to define the Russian Soviet period empire as something sui generis; entirely different from and non-comparable to other empires of the United States, France, Britain, and Germany (the Nazis), among others, and entirely different from anything that existed before. Using this label served a political purpose. It detached the earlier period of the Russian Tsarist Empire, in which there was collusion with French, British, and partly American companies and their empires, from the later period. It drew attention away from imperialism as a cultural trait worthy of study. It focused the moral criticism and social scientific critique of various forms of genocide that continue to occur and of planetary destruction (lack of sustainability of “developed” countries and cultures or of weaker “undeveloped” countries and cultures) on ideological slogans and on the “enemy” rather than on the reality of cultural processes, in general, and on the US and its allies.
Anthropologists were implicitly trained, as I was during the end of the Cold War, not to sell out the discipline or our integrity for the sake of the militaristic and elite control objectives of Cold War politics or exploitation of cultures. The tenets of the field as applied to those cultures open to anthropological study (that is, not including Russia and Eastern Europe) were to look at political choices as embedded in contexts of geography, climate, economics, and history as both dependent and independent variables or as choices forced by outside pressures. The training was to focus on what people said and what they did, not on slogans or labels and to consider as absurd any belief that a political ideology could define or transform a culture overnight; overriding established practices and beliefs driven by geography and environment. The great Russian authors like Nikolai Gogol, Leo Tolstoy, and Anton Checkov, who wrote about Russian bureaucracy and its officials, and other Eastern European writers like Franz Kafka and Karel Capek, who wrote about their societies “before socialism,” are not treasured today because they were documenting a forgotten era that today’s anthropologists would call “pre-socialist.” They are treasured because their insights into their cultures are timeless; as much alive today as they were during “socialism” or “before socialism.” Russians and Eastern Europeans are aware of the cultural continuities in the behavior of their leaders and their institutions that defy international political labels that euphemistically denote whose enemies they were, when.
Anthropologists have long stood against the simplistic tarring of peoples with broad labels. We knock sense back into those on the warpath against whatever devil they name, showing that not all Arabs are terrorists, not all “socialists” are Stalinists, and that not even all “capitalists” are colonial imperialists. Cultural groups have long traditions that take generations to change. Even if some leaders say they adhere to an ideology, ideologies are largely twisted by cultures to fit into an already existing context that is closer to what they have been doing for generations than the other way around. Collapses of political ideologies are largely the reassertions of underlying traditions or evidence of cultural unsustainability, not failure of political choice. In Russia, the supposed ideology of “socialism” probably disappeared as early as the 1930s, with the behaviors of the Russian empire reasserting itself under Stalin, rather than continuing until the US declared “victory” in the Cold War some 50+ years later. There are good anthropological studies that show that “socialism” actually died in Russia following the death of Lenin (if it even existed then under the “New Economic Policy”) and the purge of the first generation of revolutionary rulers. The rule of Stalin is probably closer to the traditional Russian feudal imperial system than it is to anything one can find in the writings of Marx or Lenin, and many of the “Soviet” symbols and institutions were actually substitutions and transpositions of earlier Russian institutions. (The hammer and sickle, for example, is a transposition of the Russian orthodox cross.)
Nevertheless, rather than look for continuities in Russia that would help understand how Russian culture works, Caldwell accepts the American Cold War dogma painting all “socialist” countries (that is, countries resisting American and European imperial hegemony and siding with the Russians) with the same brush. Rather than looking at earlier ethnographies of Russia, Caldwell consistently references other “socialist cultures” for comparisons and explanations of Russia. To note the absurdity and the strength of the ideology, in Caldwell’s study Cuba, North Korea, and Vietnam are potential sources of explanatory data on what is happening in Russian culture, even though these cultures are all completely different. *
Some of these “socialist” countries are in Eastern Europe and there may be similarities for the reasons that classical anthropological ethnographies would reveal – similar environments, material culture, and histories. But all of these comparisons are lost in the work of anthropologists who study “socialist culture” because the variables are thrown out and the only variable of comparison left is “socialism.” In Caldwell’s concluding chapter, “Socialism Revisited,” she hardly writes on Russian culture at all, but speaks of the “persistence of socialist practices and ideologies” into the “second decade of post-Soviet life,” of “neo-socialism” and even of a “socialist worldview…that will continue to color everyday social life into the future” (p. 203).
Despite making these comparisons, Caldwell never defines what “socialism” is, or what makes one country appropriate for comparison with Russia and why it is that she assumes that all “socialist” countries are alike. Is Germany a “post-socialist” culture because of the Nazi (National Socialist) period, that the Nazis, themselves, called “socialist” and that many Russians see as an exact parallel to their system (“white” and “red” “fascism”)? Were there really suddenly two German cultures, a socialist (east) and a capitalist (west) culture that were something other than examples of imperial control and cultural diffusion from other, stronger, cultures whose names are being hidden? Does this trump the idea of a German culture? How many Vietnamese or Korean cultures are there? How long does a country have to be socialist to have a socialist culture? Is Cambodia “post-socialist” because of the short Pol Pot era or is it still possible to study Khmer culture? Are there “fascist cultures”? Are there “capitalist” cultures, and if so, which ones and how are they defined? Is the US a “socialist” culture today if it can be demonstrated that the political powers of its State (military, police), its economic elites and its productive and social institutions are managed much like those in the Soviet Union before its fall? Is the US itself a culture or just an empire that destroys its internal cultures, and is the difficulty of resolving this question why anthropologists want to project the loss of cultural identity and definition on others?
In anthropology, we can talk about the Russian empire influencing half of Germany and the US (empire) influencing the other, and look at cultural change through culture contact. But if we follow the principles of the discipline rather than play ideological politics, we do not simply label cultures by whether they are “enemy” or “non-enemy” and substitute ideological euphemisms to hide the hegemony of cultures (empires). We call things what they are.
The approach that Caldwell takes polarizes our world rather than promotes the anthropological mission of human understanding and protection of deeply rooted differences. We need to be extremely vigilant on the terms and classifications we use or we not only defy our principles as social scientists, we also violate our moral oaths to the peoples we study and who fund our work and our teaching, if not to humanity.
Cultural “Newness”
Along with the idea of “socialist” countries as cultures is the belief, in Caldwell’s work and that of other anthropologists, that countries that now agree to accept the conditions of what US President George H.W. Bush described in 1991 as the New World Order (post–Cold War globalization under US hegemony with the US and former Soviet Union becoming trade partners) are somehow no longer what they once were (or even subject to cultural genocide) and can be labeled euphemistically as “new.” In Caldwell’s subtitle, she describes her study not of the “Russians” or “urban Russians” but of the “New Russia.” What does that mean? Anthropologists know that there is no such thing as a “new” culture overnight. Cultures can adapt or they can be forced to change by more powerful cultures exerting different forms of hegemony, and the goal of our discipline is to study these processes of evolution, influence, and diffusion. The labeling of cultures as “old” or “new” in this context is a code for Cold-War political distinctions that defines countries as “friends” or “enemies” based on how they fit into American economic or strategic interests. By accepting 1991, the year that the Soviet Russian empire disintegrated, as a break between an “old” and a “new” Russian culture, and by purging anthropological studies that look at the cultural continuities that go back to the Tsarist period, Caldwell demonstrates her allegiance to the Cold War political pressures on the discipline.
What is “new” in Russia is the influence of Europe and the US. Caldwell mentions the changes but does not identify their cultural origins or explains the processes of influence. Traditional Russian culture and Russia’s urbanization is being influenced by Western European political, economic, social, and religious institutions, and Caldwell’s soup kitchen is part of that phenomenon. New to Russia are the World Bank’s ideas on the role of government and the IMF’s structural adjustment policy that largely dismantles welfare states and social safety nets. New to Russia is the foreign idea that social welfare functions of government should be dismantled so as to reduce the interdependence between a country’s rich and poor. This is an actual disruption of social networks, rather than their reinforcement, and is counter to what Caldwell seems to be studying. The foreign approach is to put weak and uncoordinated nongovernmental organizations in the place of government. * New to Russia is also the UNDP’s idea of “poverty alleviation” through a checklist of Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). The UNDP’s approach undermines the cultural essential of sustainability and the agreements of international law that are supposed to assure sustainability but do not (partly due to anthropologists not holding these institutions accountable to international laws on culture protection and agreements on sustainability).
Caldwell’s reluctance to use statistical and quantitative measures may also be a sign of the impact of post–Cold War politics on anthropology. It reinforces the idea that some things are “new” by preventing actual comparisons with and study of the past. What is not measured and linked to the past cannot be used effectively as a criticism of the present. It is the destruction of history and memory that substantiates a myth that the New World Order is an improvement over the exploitation of the old order. *
Ironically, despite the title of Caldwell’s book, the reality is that Caldwell actually concludes that very little seems to be changing in Russia beneath the surface. There is a new subculture (or strata) of nouveau riche who seem to be intermediaries for the West or who are copying Western styles as they use their influence to amass resources. Nevertheless, her general sense seems to be that living strategies and networks are not very different now from what they were before. In other words, her anthropological research is confirming the discipline, but the ideological straitjacket she feels compelled to use to present (or sell) her work, overrides the tenets of the discipline to turn anthropology into journalistic accounts of what is “new.” *
Soup Kitchens as an Anthropological Subfield
This idea of soup kitchens as an area of study is also a politicized one. Caldwell could study the entire spectrum of social responsibility, attitudes, and policies towards the poor, or towards the elderly, with the soup kitchen as one example in the larger context. She could study Western institutions and their role in changing Russian culture, using the soup kitchen as an example. But, instead of starting with a segment of the culture, itself, or even of a cultural function or issue (class or valuation of members of society or social roles), she starts with an institution. The institution becomes the community instead of the actual larger community itself, and the institutions that serve it or in which people play roles, become the subject.
A look at Caldwell’s bibliography makes it clear that this is not an isolated case of a weak choice of a research topic. * Probably, Caldwell went to the library and looked up every book she could find on soup kitchens, famines, bread, social services, and consumer behavior and then took them out of their cultural contexts to unify the study of a specific type of institution across cultures in the way that political scientists do and that anthropologists used to step in to correct.
This seems to be evidence of a “safe” and trendy copycat anthropology, where studies are repeated and carried out in other cultures where they are inappropriate. The context of the culture critique is lost, but comparisons are assumed to be acceptable because of the approval of the earlier work. Caldwell, herself, says that instead of starting with existing ethnographies of Russia, or of empires, or following a hypothesis and a research question, she was motivated by newspaper accounts of impending famine in Russia. She took her cue from the newspapers, the same way that journalists find stories.
Probably the way Caldwell came to study soup kitchens was also by following the model of what is now acceptable “research” in the universities. Though laboratory, field social sciences courses are few and far between (they mostly disappeared during the Cold War in favor of courses that indoctrinate students with theory in factory and dictatorial settings) and have yet to return, what has taken their place is the “service learning” and “internship” model for credit. Students work in organizations in lackey jobs where they are unable to conduct social experiments, innovate, or test a range of hypotheses, due to their subordinate positions. They only observe and then write papers that are mostly in diary or journal form, for credit. This is exactly what Caldwell has done but on a larger scale – a dissertation, for a year’s work, in a foreign country. It is perfectly safe and politically acceptable. Caldwell does not challenge major international institutions or the Russian government on their aid policies, because she is safely ensconced among the most marginalized Russians in a foreign run charity.
Where will this lead? Will we have the “Anthropology of Soup Kitchens” as a new discipline or subdiscipline? Will there be “Anthropology of Consumer Behavior” to serve corporate marketing firms? (There may be. This is another topic heavily referenced in Caldwell’s bibliography and one of her recurrent concerns.) Will there be courses in “Anthropology of Factory Work” (another area that seems to be emerging) or “Anthropology of the Rich and Famous”? *
The Standard: What Makes Something Political or Legal Anthropology?
There seems to be an assumption in Caldwell’s book and among many anthropologists today that simply by using one, specific “methodology” of anthropology – the idea of qualitative field observation – and applying it to something like politics, that they are doing “anthropology.” By writing about her “own” experiences and being part of the group that she studies as a “participant,” Caldwell believes that she has satisfied the professional requirements and obligations of the discipline. But, good investigative journalists, good essayists, good journal (diary) authors, and good “blog” correspondents do this, too. In “Oz,” they would all be anthropologists if they did this work at universities, sprinkled their work with a heavy dose of jargon and footnotes, and found department wizards to give them pieces of paper with the stamp of an anthropology degree. Is an anthropology doctorate really no more than an authoritative piece of paper that reflects no requirements or standards? Below are some frameworks to reestablish bright line rules where the lines have become blurred.
Anthropology versus Journalism
Today, when it is possible to collect all kinds of data and to even conduct social experiments in Russia in anthropological field work, Caldwell deliberately chooses a personal, journalistic approach without data and defines this as the essence of ethnography. Why? *
Though the difference between social science and journalism (or between social science and theology) does not seem to be written down anywhere, it is worth trying to put down on paper what the characteristics are that make a “discipline” disciplined. What is joyful about anthropology is that it actually offers tremendous flexibility in methods and approaches and can be remarkably creative. One can choose to use the discipline as either a science or as humanity (for culture critique). At the same time, both of these paths require adherence to some basic rules.
The Social Science Route
There is a paradox in the anthropology of Russia in the past and today that goes to the heart of the issue as to whether one methodology is enough to define the discipline. It reinforces why Caldwell’s purging of history is so important. Caldwell lived and worked in an internationally funded soup kitchen, physically in Moscow, and became a member of the soup kitchen community. She sees her “participant observer” status, alone, as her claim to being an anthropologist, not the framework required for analyzing culture or the kinds of questions about culture that the discipline seeks to answer. By contrast, Margaret Mead and Clyde Kluckhohn wrote about the Russians without actually observing Russians or participating in activities with them, and even sought to invent a way of studying “culture at a distance” (Mead, 1953). Are Mead and Kluckhohn ignored today because they are no longer anthropologists, by today’s definition? That is what Caldwell’s book and many others seem to say.
To Mead and Kluckhohn, and other classic anthropologists, tools, alone, do not and cannot define the discipline. It is the holistic approach, the theoretical perspectives on cultural processes and change, and questions about culture and humanity that define it. The tools are only a means to answer important questions, not the ends in and of themselves. To those who see anthropology as a social science, there is no contradiction at all between using the “hard facts” and data that Caldwell and many others shun, and other kinds of data, comparisons, or social experimentation and hypothesis testing in complement with or even in place of participant observation. A social science discipline like anthropology can and should have a scientific component and a humanities component and they can work together to raise and answer questions. Scholars need to understand and defend their approach and contribution to this endeavor. *
Table 1 offers one quick way of looking at the different approaches (or functions) in a social science discipline like anthropology depending on whether a researcher starts with a scientific perspective (second column) or humanistic one (third column) and whether the approach is comparative (first row), applied (second row) or simply a single case study (third row). Caldwell’s work is a value laden case study and that falls into the category of journalism or propaganda. Without comparative work either as science or humanities, it is neither social science nor culture critique. Nor is she doing applied work, where different concerns can be raised (the choice of values determines whether the application leads to harms or benefits and is developing methods or reinforcing dogma).
Reasoning Methods and Approaches Used by Different Academic and Non-academic Fields
Source: Developed by the author.
What made Mead and Kluckhohn social scientists, in contrast to Caldwell and many others today, is that they followed the discipline of the scientific method. Mead wanted to understand the same phenomena that Caldwell studied – social support and the role of the individual versus the collective in Russia. Part of Mead’s work was to look at child rearing practices and to generate scientific hypotheses about “swaddling”; a form of binding that connected children with care-givers and reinforced their sense of dependency, while also creating a cultural connection to the environment (its harsh winter cold that created a need for social interaction and interdependency). Mead started with a psychological methodology and analyzed photos (spatial relations), curricula, and newspaper accounts. Kluckhohn worked with sociologists to collect household budget and time use data, to reconstruct daily lives as a way to understand survival, interconnections and the working of the culture.
Mead and Kluckhohn’s works and those of others defined culture within a particular environment. They analyzed behaviors as part of a system, with humans and environment (a system of nature, genetics, and material culture). They began with research hypotheses about variables in that environment and then collected data that helped to test those hypotheses. They maintained a sense of distance and objectivity about their subjects. They analyzed and presented data in ways that could be used and understood by others. Generally, their presentations include maps of space and geography; kinship charts; time analysis; relational and network analysis; diet and material culture analysis; and overall diagrams of how the system works, which were once the standard descriptive tools used in ethnography but have also disappeared; replaced by the same block prose of journalism. If previous anthropologists did not wish to follow the works of predecessors, they at least took pains to distinguish why and to offer challenges in the spirit of disciplinary challenge, rather than to simply avoid or ignore. If there were demands to laboriously cite works by others as a way simply to demonstrate political loyalty to the clique, as many anthropologists today demand as a condition of publication or advancement (in the form of academic political patronage), the scientific method offered a way to challenge this politicization. Stripping away the scientific method today leaves and reinforces the patronage system with nothing to challenge it, and perhaps this is what is really happening in Caldwell’s work and that of other anthropologists today.
Caldwell does not use scientific methods. She does not begin with a research hypothesis. She does not process data. She does not use any of the kinds of data presentations that are unique to anthropology or any other social science. Moreover, she is not really comparative in the sense of defining what the entity is that she is studying – urban Russia, Russian culture, international development agents – and what she is comparing it against, by what set of variables.
With the exception of a few photographs, Caldwell’s book, like much anthropology today, is almost entirely block text without a single chart, diagram, or figure. Her photographs are not scientific comparisons and are mostly snapshots of places she visited and worked; some of the pictures were actually taken by her mother and father.
The question then is, is Caldwell’s work and that of other anthropologists who reject the social science approach, culture critique, journalism, or is it dogma, or some combination?
The Humanity Route (Cultural Critique)
If anthropologists choose not to view their work as social science, but as humanity and a way of gaining other perspectives and insight into the nature of human activity and thought, the disciplinary approach is that of cultural critique or interpretive anthropology. The idea of culture critique is to use the experiences of other cultures to challenge the views of what is possible or morally right in one’s own culture. Good anthropology exposes contradictions in values and exposes rituals that blind people to good information that could otherwise change their choices or views of how people actually behave. It tries to understand pathways of change and explain whether alternatives are possible, whether they might be desirable, how they could be attained if they are, or why they are not being pursued.
The idea of many anthropologists today, including Caldwell, seems to be that the methodology and form of the product – participant observation and then footnoted essay format – are enough to qualify as cultural critique or, if there are enough references to one’s own feelings and sense of self in the foreign culture, to qualify as interpretive or reflexive anthropology. But unless there is really a direct cultural critique or perhaps just a phenomenological discovery (that can be anything from ingesting local substances to undergoing rites and observing the changes in perception that occur), what distinguishes it from essay or journalism or just diary?
Table 2 offers one way of thinking about the differences.
Categories of Critical and Reflective Writing by Academics and Non-academics
Source: Developed by the author.
Indeed, the study of Russia has offered a wonderful chance to do culture critique because the Russian and then the Russian “Soviet” empires have been partly different and partly similar to other recent empires, and because Russia is uniquely placed in Europe and Asia, with peculiar climate and geography. Though few scholars have been bold enough to do real comparative critiques of the Russian–Soviet empire with the American empire or others (French, German-Nazi, or English) and have been more likely to force comparisons with China, the opportunity for such comparison has always been there. There was something anthropological in the way of thinking of some political scientists and economists from John Kenneth Galbraith (an economist writing on the “new industrial state,” 1967), Harold Berman (a legal scholar writing on “the Devil and Soviet Russia,” 1958) and Alfred Meyer (a political scientist who worked with Kluckhohn at Harvard’s Russian Research Center). *
Today, with Russia becoming a colony (or feudal barony) in the New World Order, studies of Russia offer an excellent opportunity for critiques of the process of globalization, particularly if one studies the interaction between foreign aid institutions or foreign elites and Russians. Caldwell partly tries to do this in examining how “hunger” is defined, and offers some observations on how “corruption” and exchange are defined but she does not really gather enough information or make any consistent argument that would place her work in the category of a critique. *
If Caldwell’s book is not culture critique and not reflective anthropology, because it does not fit those categories, what is it? * Caldwell’s book seems to fall somewhere in the category of a feature story and a diary of the workings of a social service agency in Moscow, with vignettes on some of the recipients. *
There is nothing wrong with anthropologists turning into essayists, diarists, or investigative journalists. They can be good ones. Such work can also be useful to anthropologists as a source of reliable information. With American media largely shut down in presenting the reality in countries like Russia, books that report a different view and are able to be published (something that is not easy today with academic presses since screening criteria largely weight “marketability” and “acceptability” rather than objectivity and reliability) can be especially useful. Even if authors might have to end up self-publishing on the Web or going overseas to do so, they offer a real service. *
The problem here is that this book claims to be anthropology but does not ask the questions or link to the disciplinary standards and past work that define the discipline. Instead of offering and testing something new, it is replacing the scientific work and culture critique that were the basis of the discipline with ideological and hedonistic journalism. By claiming to be what they are not, anthropologists are not expanding the categories of work but driving out those that are the basic responsibility of the discipline.
Political Anthropology versus Political Science
Caldwell paraphrases Malinowski towards the end of her study to the effect that “the power of ethnography emerges from the connections that are drawn between the most minute and mundane aspects of daily life…and the larger social fabric in which they are embedded” (p. 196), but it is important to look at this statement very carefully. It is actually a distortion and a revision of Malinowski and the anthropological mission. Caldwell is not alone in redefining the discipline.
What makes political anthropology different from political science is that anthropology places all phenomena back in a systemic whole. The same goes for all of the sub-studies of anthropology – economic anthropology, legal anthropology, medical anthropology, and so on. The goal of ethnography is to explain this cultural holism – to study a culture in a geographic setting and over generations, with a look at how a whole set of variables (political, cultural, social, natural, biological) interrelate and interact. * The key to the anthropological way of thinking is not only this holism and the inclusion of a larger set of variables cutting across disciplines but also some very different assumptions about causality. Political scientists think that ideologies are a political choice and that a society can simply become “socialist” or “capitalist” with the passing of an order. Anthropologists understand causality in a richer way. We either reverse the arrow (determining that an “ism” is something that comes OUT of the culture and is influenced by it, in a kind of Darwinian sense of cultures evolving to fit their environments) or posit that causality is two-way and interactive.
Caldwell is defining the links of social relations only to the “social fabric” and not to the material culture and workings of the overall Russian system. That violates the precepts of the discipline. *
Something else that Caldwell’s book and others like it indicate is that training in anthropology departments today may not be adequate for field work in complex urban societies like Russia. Political anthropology and legal anthropology are largely an addition to the disciplines of political science and legal studies in the study of complex, industrial societies. In a small society, it may be possible to observe material culture and to simultaneously study the political and legal aspects of culture. But studying an urban society requires specific tools. Caldwell does not think she needs to collect data on the Russian economy, on poverty, on Russian administrative agencies, or on legal entitlements, and that her “tribe” is the people who work or receive aid from the soup kitchen. But, even with Russian language skills, if she does not have at least one other professional or social scientific skill, she is really not that different from a Russian child trying to make sense out of Russian society. * Good financial or legal journalists know that they need those degrees to perform effectively. Good archaeologists know that they sometimes need to be experts in fields like astronomy or material construction or botany to really make contributions. Anthropologists like Caldwell are sent to do doctoral research in a complex system with simply language skills and a notebook; not much different from a journalist and possibly not as savvy. The belief that this is sufficient and constitutes scholarly preparation is a naïve and dangerous assumption that undermines rather than builds the field. We need more training and more collaboration with colleagues, rather than more ignorance and arrogance.
Constructive Alternatives
If Mead, Sorokin, and Kluckhohn were still alive, they probably would advise Caldwell to open herself up to the methods and studies of other disciplines or even to team up with an economist or sociologist or political scientist or legal scholar in her future work on Russia. She has scratched the surface of many important research questions, but needs the tools, perspectives, and discipline of anthropology and other fields to find answers. Some of these issues are as follows:
Networks and Their Place in Russian Society
Caldwell concludes that networks are important in Russia and more important in Russia than elsewhere. But she has not really mapped out networks in Russia (past and present) and compared them to other industrial or industrializing societies in different and similar environments. * If she masters the discipline’s old and new techniques or teams up with a sociologist, this would make a valuable book.
Vulnerability within Russian Culture and Distrust for Formal Procedures
Caldwell says that the Russians rely more on networks than other cultures because their system is more precarious and offers little security. She describes a recent economic crisis but does not do the economic or political analysis to explain whether crises are a fundamental feature of the Russian political culture. In the past, famines were a part of Russian life that reinforced the idea of group behavior and a strong State (well before “socialism”) and can be seen as the reality of Russia’s poor soil and cold climate. It would be interesting to take a closer look at this phenomenon and to try to model Russian culture to see what would need to change in order for the system to be able to provide better security. Perhaps it cannot, perhaps it can. * What are the costs, benefits, and risks to the society if it switches over? If Caldwell were to team up with an economist, they might come up with some interesting answers.
Social Class and the Role of Poverty in Russia
Poverty and social class issues are morally and politically charged topics and are perfect for anthropological study. Caldwell makes some assumptions about poverty and social inequality going hand in hand with individual rights and freedoms. Many political scientists dispute this as a false ideology. Some theorists say that poverty actually serves social functions of social order (creating fear among the poor and middle class). Others describe how the poor are “regulated” (Piven & Cloward, 1986). Meanwhile, international lenders in Russia are offering policy advice on how much poverty and inequality is “acceptable” and how these are defined. She might find partners in economics or sociology that would value her perspective combined with their techniques. *
Individual and the State in Russia
The issue of the individual and the State and the State’s role or obligation in providing entitlements is largely a legal culture question, though Caldwell has largely ignored the “rights” debate that has often been central to studies of Russia and that is now a key issue in foreign relations with Russia (particularly in the idea of “economic rights,” and partly in human rights). Caldwell does not really tell us why the Russian State is not providing aid today, especially if it is still “socialist” and paternalist, as she suggests. Why is it that foreigners are taking over the State’s role through church charities? Is this part of an attempt by foreigners to weaken the Russian State and break the culture? Are there any attempts by the needy to assert the idea of rights to assistance? There is a long track of literature on Russian legal culture and the idea of justice, and some on Russian concepts of morality that can link jurisprudence with anthropology (Berman, 1950/1963; Butler, 1983; Hazard, 1953; Lempert, 1995).
The New World Order and Its Concepts of the Role of the State in Russia
Caldwell’s study really begs for an examination of the processes of outside (neocolonial) influences on Russia from the major international lenders like the World Bank, from international aid agencies of the UN, and from other development projects, in the ways described earlier in this essay. Caldwell’s description of Russian’s attitudes towards aid does not make it sound particularly “socialist,” though it is very similar to requests in recipient countries throughout the world. If Russia is becoming a “dependent” or “colonized” country, with outside agencies now serving as the paternal “State” in an international form of “socialist” “dependency,” that is much the same as before but simply with another level of hierarchy above replacing the powers and functions of the Russian elites, this process is worthy of anthropological study. *
Environmental Relations
Given that Caldwell’s most interesting and most anthropological chapter is on Russian relations with the natural environment and given Russia’s unique environment for an industrial country (including the tremendous poisoning and threat to this environment), the relationship of Russian urban culture to its environment could make a full-length study. *
Conclusion
Overall, the real questions that Caldwell and contemporary anthropologists should be asking are not about “socialism” and “post-socialism” but about models of industrial society and about the number of potential alternatives there are, as well as whether different alternatives can maintain their distinctiveness in the New World Order. *
Caldwell and other anthropologists need to understand and build on the disciplinary work and models of Mead and Kluckhohn and others, recognizing that systematic study and comparison, not the writing of blogs, is the role of anthropology in the study of urban cultures like Russia. They need to recognize that their “moral models” that have replaced scientific, and ideally scientific humanistic, ones, may reflect the same biases and may be even more ideological, arbitrary, and immoral than what they sought to replace. Evading larger questions about modern empires and globalization and human progress with micro or journalistic accounts, or framing debates in tired and inappropriate Cold War rhetoric does not further the great enterprise of anthropology, the anthropology of Russia, or our human goals of understanding processes of development and change so we can understand ourselves and build a better world.
If anthropologists are no longer able to do this, alternative disciplines will need to do the work that anthropologists do not do and perhaps replace the field from within the disciplines of human geography, development studies, and others.
