Cannibalism has often been referred to as a taboo, in line with incest and murder as an unspoken universal evil. What has been most fascinating from reading the anthropology of cannibalism however is how cannibalism can challenge the concept of universal morals. It can be considered to be a taboo in one culture, yet can be considered a moral duty or sacred act in another.

One of the major themes to emerge from my research is that cannibalism is almost always associated with the cosmology and worldview of the culture that practices it. This can be social and spiritual meaning but it can be explicitly religious. Fijian sacrificial cannibalism  for example is considered a “communion” between gods and kings, and is a profoundly spiritual occasion. It struck me that this held at least superficial similarities to the Christian theology of the Holy Communion.

 

Christian Theology

In the Catholic Church the Communion bread and wine is believed to literally become essence of the blood and body of Christ, via transubstantiation. In the Anglican Church it is considered a powerful metaphor. This metaphor sits at the heart of Christian theology; the idea of participating in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ in order to “buy in” to the salvation that the sacrifice brings.

Within the deeper Anglican theology there is an understanding the the partaking in Communion is the consumption of the essence of God, an essentially cannibalistic metaphor. On a day to day basis however, it is unlikely that most people consider Mass to be an act of spiritual consumption. I think this highlights how archaeologists and anthropologists should be wary of a separation in understanding between theology and practice. Just because a person is supposed to be thinking or feeling something during a ritual or spiritual act, doesn’t mean that they will.

 

Cannibalism and Morality

Whether as a complex metaphor as in Anglicanism, or a pseudo-literal event as in Catholicism, the cannibalistic reference at the heart of Christian theology is undeniable. However, despite it forming such a central element of Christian theology, that of salvation, it’s is never acknowledged as cannibalistic. There is great resistance, in Catholicism especially, to the clearly cannibalistic metaphor being recognised as such. I am in no way stating that the Christian communion is literally cannibalism. It obviously is not. It is interesting, however, that the negativity associated with cannibalism, even as a metaphor, is so strong that the mention of it is brushed aside even as it sits at the theological heart of a major religion.

The moral viewpoints on cannibalism are infinitely complex. It can be reviled, celebrated, inconsequential, or unfathomably important. It can be immoral even when it is accepted (as in the Bimin-Kuskusmin), or it can be ignored even when it is conceptually central (as in Christianity).

Cannibalism can challenge core beliefs of the universality of morality and belief, and as such, the study of it should not be conducted at arm’s length, but should instead pick up on what a incredibly complex behaviour can tell us about ourselves and the way we see the world.

 

Get in touch!

I hope you’ll agree that cannibalism, and what it tells us about people and morality, is incredibly interesting. Have I got it wrong about theology? Do you disagree with me? Have a source or a topic I should write about? Please let me know! Comment using the “leave a comment” button below, or via Facebook or Twitter.

I am indebted to Reverend Stephen Goundrey-Smith for contributing to my understanding of Anglican theology.

This is the second installment of a multi part summary of my dissertation research. The first covered the why and the how of my research – my reasons for researching prehistoric cannibalism, and how I went about it. This half gets into the exciting stuff: what I found! In particular here are the themes and associations that were common between the anthropological case studies.

 

Themes/Associations

As a recap from Part 1, I examined 7 cultures where they practiced institutional cannibalism, that is, cannibalism that was permitted and formed part of the social system, for example, the Fijians and the Wari. From this I drew out 6 themes or associations. The first three are major themes that were present in most of the cultures. The other three were minor themes that were less strongly associated, but have still proved just as useful.

 

Cannibalism is practiced under a framework of rules

All cultures expressed some degree of regulation of the practice of cannibalism. This ranged from a lack of general rules where only the eating of kin was prohibited, through to complex considerations of gender, status, and kinship.

 

Cannibalism is linked to the culture’s cosmology or worldview

The practice of cannibalism in all cultures bar one was linked in some way to the way to their cosmology or worldview. In some cultures this was very explicit, with the practice of cannibalism being a central element of ethnic identity, where in other cases the link was less explicit but still clearly there.

 

Cannibalism is a method of constructing or deconstructing identity

Cannibalism is used to construct or deconstruct identities, be that ethnic, gendered, ritual, or personal. In all cultures bar one cannibalism is used as a way for people’s identities to be formed, changed, or removed.

 

Endo- and exo-cannibalism are not mutually exclusive

Two cultures practiced both warfare and funerary cannibalism. A common anthropological description of these is “exo cannibalism” and “endo cannibalism”, where “endo” means those within a group, and exo means those outside it. I do not consider this to be a useful way of describing cannibalism however. The fact that cultures can practice both suggests that the two types are not mutually exclusive, and thus highlights the weakness of using the terms exo- and endo- cannibalism in a binary opposition.

 

Gendered language or division is associated with the practice of cannibalism

The cannibalistic practices of several cultures was marked by gender divisions, or were described in gendered language. This included only men or women consuming the dead, or the practice focussing on gender identities.

 

Cannibalism is practiced as a response to social change

The cannibalism of a few cultures appeared to be a response to a social change of some kind. This includes a shift in the balance of power with neighbouring groups, or a change in leadership as described in legend by the Fijians.

 

Next steps

So those are the 6 things I drew out of the anthropology of cannibalism. They are common themes and associations that I then applied to three archaeological sites where evidence of cannibalism had been discovered. Some worked, and some didn’t as much, but that formed the final part of my research methods, and will be coming soon!

Long known as “The Cannibal Isle”, the island of Fiji in the Pacific has a well established presence in the anthropology of cannibalism. Visitors nowadays can even buy replicas of the “cannibal forks” used in the ritual consumption of people up until the conversion of the Fijians to Christianity in the early 19th Century.

So why did the Fijians eat people? The reasoning was entwined with their myth and legend, and formed the basis for their social hierarchy. It was believed to be a literal “communion with the gods”, and as such was a sacred, arcane act.

Rituals

While cannibalism was a ritual and spiritual occurrence, it was by no means infrequent. Cannibalistic feasts occurred whenever there was a cause for a ritual, such as the visit of a friendly chief, a royal marriage, or the construction of a temple, or chiefs house. Captives from war were cooked in earth ovens, with the process overseen by priests. The victim was given divine status and the body was referred to with special terms. No contact could be made with the flesh as it was considered divine, hence the use of special “forks” to hold the flesh. Chiefs had priority for the cooked flesh, with priests, men, women and children also eating if enough remained.

The ritual was a spiritual event, believed to be a communion with the gods. It also had social meaning however. The victims were always either captives from rival tribes, or rebels who had opposed the chief. The consumption of them was therefore believed to be an act of revenge and aggression, reinforcing dominance between rivals, and between social classes.

Myth and Legend

The Fijians believed that their chiefs were “foreign”, while the people were native. In the legend telling the origin cannibalism, it was said that the chiefs came from a land across the sea, and upon their arrival promised “cooked men” in return for “raw women” (native wives). The cannibal feasts were therefore one half of an exchange cycle that formed the basis of Fijian society. Sahlins (1983, 83) writes that “the developed Fijian chiefdom is organised by an elaborate cycle of exchange of raw women for cooked men between a basic trio of social-cum-cosmic categories: foreign warriors, immigrant chiefs, and indigenous members of the land”.

What Sahlins means is that for the Fijians, cannibalism was a way of life. It defined social hierarchy and was a crucial part of religious connection. Cannibalism in this society was not metaphorical, it was real. While the Wari ate their dead as a mark of respect and mourning, for Fijians it was part of war and religion.

If you want to know more about Fijian cannibalism (there is so much more detail to this than the whistle-stop tour here) then the esteemed Marshall Sahlins is your guy. I have also written a piece looking at some of the debates around cannibalism and morality – including the sacrificial cannibalism described here and the Holy Communion in Western Christianity.

As ever if you have thoughts, comments, or questions please let me know, always happy to talk and to hear different ideas. You can find me here using the “leave a comment” button below, or on Facebook or Twitter using the buttons on the right.

This is a summary of my dissertation research, and so gives a bit of context to the blog, and why I am writing about cannibalism. My research aimed to “open up” cannibalism as a source of information for archaeologists, focusing on sites in prehistoric Europe.

Why did I research this?

1) There is increasing evidence for prehistoric cannibalism, such as sites of burial and massacre, across Europe, and across prehistory. There is also genetic evidence that suggests that epidemics spread by the consumption of brain tissue in the prehistoric period have left a genetic marker on the genome of modern Europeans. (See the Archaeology reading list for details)

2) Cannibalism is  bound up with deep and complex social and cultural meaning. The anthropology of cannibalism has revealed how deeply it is bound up with ideas of identity, emotion, family, power, and other important social issues. The Wari are a particularly good example of this. 

3) Yet is not currently integrated with other forms of archaeological evidence. Archaeologists generally simply state “its cannibalism” if they find evidence of it, and at most offer some kind of statement regarding the type of cannibalism: “ritual” or “violent” etc.

It appeared to me that there was a paradox going on here. Cannibalism was clearly happening in the prehistoric past, and is linked to rich social meaning, yet currently archaeologists aren’t using cannibalism to gain deeper understanding of the societies they were studying. Cannibalism in effect sat in isolation as a form of evidence.

So I set out to assess whether evidence of prehistoric cannibalism could tell us anything about the society in which it occurred. My official research question is: “To what extent can evidence of cannibalism be used to understand prehistoric societies”

How did I answer this?

My research basically consisted of applying anthropological evidence to archaeological sites. I chose to use anthropological data as it contains much more detail on the methods, practice and motivations behind cannibalistic activity than is possible from archaeology alone.

1) Anthropological Case Studies

I looked at 7 different groups who practiced institutional cannibalism in the recent past. They included the Wari and the Fijians, as well as multiple groups from Papua New Guinea.

2) Themes

I extracted common themes from the  anthropological accounts, regarding how and why the cannibalism was practiced. For example, all groups had some kind of set of “rules” regarding what was permissible practice, and there were frequent associations with gender concepts and roles.

3) Archaeological case studies

These themes and associations were then applied to 3 archaeological case studies. These case studies are the best evidence of cannibalism across Europe for the Prehistoric period, and ranged from Middle Paleolithic sites occupied by Neanderthals, to Neolithic sites occupied by early farmers.

4) Integration

The challenge then was to assess if the case studies and anthropology told me anything about the prehistoric people at these sites. This was most easily achieved by engaging with arguments that are already being debated about these cultures. For example, there is a debate over the extent to which the LBK culture (early European Neolithic) had a “crisis” before it ended. The evidence for cannibalism at the site of Herxheim easily forms part of that debate.

Found this interesting? If you want to know what my findings are on this topic then check out this summary of my results. Or follow the links in the text for more detail, check out the reading lists and follow on Facebook and Twitter using the buttons on the right.

The Wari people of the Amazon, Brazil, are known for practicing compassionate funerary cannibalism as recently as the 1960’s. It was their cultural norm for the in-laws of the deceased to consume the body at the funeral. Why did they do this? It was not to do with taking on the essence, knowledge or power of the dead. Nor was it nutritional. Nor was it aggressive. Instead it is to do with radically different way that the Wari see the body and a person’s identity.

Last week I wrote a piece debating the extent to which we own our ourselves, particularly our own bodies.  Now this wasn’t just some self-indulgent arty nonsense, it was to get people thinking that the way the body is viewed in our society is not the only way.

So, what did the Wari practice? What do they believe? How does it differ from our worldview?

Wari Funerals

Before contact with Brazilians in the 1960’s, Wari funerals were affairs of compassionate funerary cannibalism. When a person died, word was sent out so that relatives could travel to the funeral. The body was washed and cut up by non-relatives, before being roasted on a grill. The attendant non-kin were asked repeatedly by the kin of the deceased to eat the body, they protested that they could not. Eventually they relented, and the body was consumed using wooden picks,  carefully, slowly and delicately.

 

How do the Wari see the body?

The cultural reasoning behind this funerary behaviour is all to do with the way the Wari believe the body and identity work. They consider that a person’s personality is not held in their spirit, or a consciousness, or in their brain. They believe that a person is angry or friendly or shy, because “that’s the way their body is”. Now this is not simply a difference in where this identity is located, but how it came to be. The Wari believe that a person is formed through a kind of bodily essence. This essence can be exchanged between people through various means. Having sex, breast feeding, and sharing food all cause this exchange. For this reason, a person’s“blood” relations can change.

 

For example, a man can be “related” to a woman who is genetically unrelated, but who nursed him as a child, because she gave him his bodily essence at a crucial stage in life. Those people with whom you live, sleep, and share food, are those most close to you, because of this frequent exchange of ‘essence’.

 

So why do the Wari eat their dead?

It is this view of bodily identity that is central to Wari funerals. Although the person is dead, their body, the essence of what makes them who they are, remains. Unlike in the Western world, this is not an empty shell. Therefore the body must be destroyed so that the dead person’s spirit can truly move on, and the relatives no longer have to grieve.

 

Why must the body be eaten?

The Wari believe that the earth is polluting and cold, and so burial is not an option. While cremation was sometimes considered a suitable alternative, consumption was preferable as it was associated with positive social interactions like sharing and eating, rather than solely death and destruction. The body must be consumed by in-laws as the ‘essence’ of the deceased is so like that of their kin. For the kin to eat the deceased, would therefore be like eating themselves.

 

So, what’s next?

As you can see, the Wari practice of cannibalism is complex in both the practice itself, and the reasoning behind it. If you’re interested in the Wari, then check out Beth Conklin’s book “Consuming Passions”, I wrote a piece on it and other literature here. As always, if you have questions or comments, please leave a comment for me, and like and follow on Facebook and Twitter to stay up to date.

Cannibalism is, I hope you’ll agree, an incredibly interesting subject. Whether it occurs in the past, in the present, or in our fiction, it always draws attention. One thing this blog is aspiring to achieve is communicate the anthropological accounts of cannibalism, the “true” cannibalism that has occurred all over the world, in very controlled social situations. Type “cannibalism” into google however and you’re likely to be disappointed if you’re looking for any kind of objective account. So I’ve put together a ‘beginner’s guide’ to the literature around cannibalism, that will hopefully direct you to what you find interesting. This is an extension of the reading lists you can find under the “Learn More” tab at the top of the page.

Cannibal: The History of the People Eaters – Korn, D., Radice, M. and Hawes, C.

This is a fairly gentle starting point for the literature on cannibalism. The write up of a Channel 4 documentary on the subject, it takes you through cannibalism in all its forms, from the archaeological, to survival stories, to Hannibal Lecter. With references to esteemed archaeologists and anthropologists, this book still has serious academia behind it, but is highly accessible.

 

Consuming Grief: Compassionate Cannibalism in an Amazonian Society – Beth Conklin

A really excellent book, accessibly written with great intellectual depth. Conklin recounts first hand her experiences of learning  from the Wari people of the Amazon, who are known for practicing compassionate funerary cannibalism. She explores the themes of death, grief, family, and the body with great sensitivity and clarity. A highly recommended starting point for the anthropology of cannibalism. A step up from The History of the People Eaters.

The Man Eating Myth: Anthropology and Anthropophagy – Arens, W

Very much a product of its time, this is hugely influential and controversial book. Arens argues the view that there is no “adequate documentation of cannibalism as custom in any form for any society”. Now rather debunked, it is still widely referenced, if only in a cautionary manner.

Journal Articles

Journal article tend to focus on one particular aspect of an academic discipline, but can still be a good starting point. For non-academics they are also largely behind pay-walls, so if you don’t have the benefits of a university log-in then take a look at Cole (2006) below.

Lindenbaum, S. (2004). Thinking About Cannibalism. Annual review of anthropology 33:475–498.

It’s not short but it is comprehensive. Great for an introduction to the depth in which anthropologists have been discussing cannibalism.

Cole, J. (2006). Consuming Passions: Reviewing the Evidence for Cannibalism within the Prehistoric Archaeological Record. Assemblage [Online].

Available at: http://www.assemblage.group.shef.ac.uk/issue9/cole.html.

Available free via the University of Sheffield’s student journal ‘Assemblage’ (https://assemblagejournal.wordpress.com), this article take you through most of the archaeological evidence for cannibalism in Prehistoric Europe. It also discusses a little bit of the theory and genetic evidence for prehistoric cannibalism.

And of course there is this blog! If you’ve read any of the literature above, please share your thoughts in the comments.

Please subscribe, like and follow on Facebook and Twitter using the buttons on the right if you want to keep updated.

Do you own your body?

Most of us would probably say yes, or at least, no one else damn owns it. But as with all definitions, the idea of ownership gets a bit hazy around the edges. Do you own your hair? Even once it has been cut?

The reason I have asked this is to demonstrate how we don’t normally think about it. It is the sort of question that is only answered when it is directly asked (by some archaeology blogger normally) or when we are challenged by something. Something that makes us think. In my case, it was a work of art.

The relationship between art and archaeology is an interesting one that I won’t go into detail on. But what is important to me is the way art can make us think.

“The primary use of ethnographic parallels…is simple. It is to widen the horizons of the interpreter”

• Peter Ucko (1969)

The above quote from the anthropologist and archaeologist Peter Ucko, summarises well how being exposed to different viewpoints improves and broadens your own. While Ucko was referring explicitly to the relationship between archaeology and anthropology, I believe the same mindset can be applied to archaeology and art. We are taught that the realms of Science, Humanities, and Arts are entirely separate. That someone cannot possibly be both an artist and a scientist. They are all facets of the same goal however, to learn about the world. The arts have enormous capacity to broaden our minds and expose us to viewpoints very different from our own, often without us even realising it.

It was in this mindset that I went looking for works of art to expose me to different ways of seeing the body, in order to “widen the horizons” as Ucko puts it.

‘Mine’ or ‘Me’?

The photograph below is by Jo Spence from the collection “The Picture of Health”. The image was taken in response to the way she was handled by doctors while undergoing treatment for cancer. The statement “Property of Jo Spence?”, written onto her left breast, I thought was interesting, not least because it was phrased as a question. It led me to think that in this context – responding to another person claiming authority over her body – she asked whether her body was truly hers. To my mind, this poses a further question: Is the body our property? And therefore, is it still us? Can we own ourselves?  

This is all terribly philosophical of course, but it does expose how we think of the body in very particular ways that often go unchallenged. The problem then appears when we assume that people in the past think in much the same way as we do.

Identity in the Past

The issue of identity is an important one in archaeology, especially that of the dead. Who were they? Powerful? Knowledgeable? Feared? What did they see themselves as? A leader? A mother? A slave? Where is this identity held however? In a spirit? In a consciousness? In the brain? I am interested in whether that personal identity, whatever it may be, is believed to be held within the physical body. In relation to my research on cannibalism, what happens when that body is consumed…

This post is the first of (hopefully) several more to come, regarding my experiences with using art to “widen the horizons” of the archaeology of death, burial, and the body.

If you’re interested in reading those posts, then please subscribe. If you have thoughts on this topic or know a work of art that’s made you think,  let me know in the comments.