Bill
Longacre, New Archaeology, and Bob Dylan: AN Essay of Appreciation
April 13,
2001
SAA 2001
Special session honoring Dr. William A. Longacre
Bion
Griffin and Dave Tuggle
(Posted on my Blog “Wandering With An Old Anthropologist” just for fun and historical memory.
An update from another 20 years on would be fun. We'll see.)
The
Times they are A-Changin’ Things Have Changed
Bob
Dylan, 1964 Bob Dylan, 2000
This paper is history from a
personal perspective. It is a history of Bill Longacre’s impact on us and the
areas in which we have worked in the Pacific. It is a history of an era when
times were changing. Our main intent is to suggest something of the climate of
those times, the early years of New Archaeology. As everyone who attends the
past is well aware, it is difficult to grasp the social atmosphere of an
earlier time, but historical novelists and screenwriters get it right when they
say, “ don’t let facts stand in the way of the truth.’’ So, we present this as
truth.
Strange
days have found us
Strange
days have tracked us down…
Strange
days have found us
And
through their strange hours
We
linger alone…
Memories
misused…
The
Doors, Strange days, 1967
We are the same generation, Bill and
the two of us—all born just before WWII. So clearly the mid-late `60’s was the
most turbulent era of our remembered experience. This turbulence, which shook
along deep social fault lines, was the historical context for what became known
as the New Archaeology. One of these fault lines was the age, the young vs the
old; the generation of the veterans of WWII and the generation of Vietnam war
protestors; expressed in a hundred ways, as establishment vs
anti-establishment; as alcohol vs drugs; in sloganeering as “question authority”
vs “obedience to the law is freedom”
Archaeology, as were many sciences,
was part of all this… caught up in the culture of the new (i.e., of the young),
and young scientists commonly found their scripture of justification in Thomas
Kuhn’s book The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, which could be
simplistically read to articulate scientific advance in terms of young versus
old.
On the national level, SAA meetings
were raucous affairs, not the boring clock-managed deals they are now. There
was a great deal of argumentation about the New Archaeology at various levels,
with Jimmy Griffin holding court in one
hotel and denouncing it all as bullshit, while Sally Binford would be making
the opposite point in her own iconoclastic way in a hotel room party across the
way. And always there was talk of the War (Vietnam), again often as schism;
including rumors about which American archaeologists working in Southeast Asia
were spies for the CIA.
Today, every time we walk by the
placid corner of Park and University at UA, waiting for fraternity men to drive
through the intersection in their Miatas, we begin to see shadows from the
past, as
Tim Robbins does in Jacob’s Ladder. Universities were the center of the
turbulence, and a walk to the classroom was to walk by the corner of Park and
University milling with Hippie panhandlers, Black Muslims, hawkers for a dozen
alternative newspapers, protestors with a dozen causes, drug dealers, and
street musicians. Student discussions concerned not only archaeological theory
and comprehensive exams, but the latest rules for the military draft (which
seemed to change weekly), war resistance, and whether 2001 and MASH
were about present, past, or future.
But for one us (Tuggle), the
introduction to Bill Longacre was not in the Campus classroom, rather it was in
the field classroom at the Grasshopper archaeological camp in the 1965. Bill
was joining the Anthropology staff of the University of Arizona, and had come
to the Grasshopper to co-direct with Ray Thompson that year, in preparation to
take over the field school full time the following year.
Bill began talking about archaeology
as anthropology, about Carter Ranch, Lew Binford, hypothesis testing, cultural
adaptation, social organization, and about the cultural theorists relevant to
archaeology, particularly White, Service, and Sahlins. Much of this was not
really new in the sense that one could find elements of these things in
previous work, but it was being put together in a new way, and
perhaps
the most exciting thing was that it emphasized the potential, not the
limitations, of archaeology. The most negative reaction to this discussion came
from the student-staff at the field school, but discussions among students
indicated that most felt we were getting the best of both possible worlds, on
one hand solid grounding in field techniques and the prevailing views of
culture history and classification presented by Ray Thompson, and on other
hand, a view from Bill Longacre that gave us the framework to expand our
conceptual horizons. Bion Griffin first encountered Bill and the New
Archaeology when Longacre began teaching at UA in the fall of 1965, and he
began his field archaeology with Bill at Grasshopper the following summer.
(This was Bion’s first field archaeology, except for some site visits under the
wing of Jim Ayres, who likely wondered about an archaeological grad student who
had never seen and archaeological site!) Grasshopper was a breath of fresh air
in more ways than one! The discussions, arguments, and sites/sights were
exhilarating… and then, of course, there was the gender integration of the
showers, but, we won’t go there, so to speak. The heat of the debates continued
to be felt in and out of the field, especially over a campfire, with Wetherhill
stew, red eye, and Emil Haury – “Solve it with a shovel!!!!” Not only dirt had
to be shoveled.
In the classroom, in the cultural
environment of Park and University, Bill began giving a seminar on archaeological
method and theory, and it was the seminar that really molded our directions for
a lifetime. In Griffin’s case, it opened
up the realm of ethnoarchaeological and what became a dedication to the
cultures of SE Asia (and we will neither confirm nor deny that he was a spy),
and for Tuggle, it de-regionalized his thinking and produced his one abiding
interest in the field, the epistemology of archaeology. The success of that
seminar lay partly in the energy of the era—New Archaeology and the universities’
participation in the events leading to Tet and Kent State were clearly linked in
this energy field, and in the excitement of new material and new ideas, in the
related excitement of looking at older material with fresh perspective, from
the work of A.V. Kidder to that of W.W. Taylor. At every meeting of the
seminar, there were new draft manuscripts from people such as Binford, Deetz,
and Hill, and we looked forward to each new issue of American Antiquity
and the caustic exchanges that had made it to print.
Those days were like a bullish stock
market; many if the papers ideas were likely high inflated IPOs, but the
intellectual day-trading was just great fun, and over the long-haul (as
stockbrokers always say) a number of ideas retained their value and have
appreciated and been appreciated over time. The energy and enthusiasm of that
era led graduate students at UA (in archaeology and cultural anthropology) to
create a seminar on evolution in order to argue with each other and “visiting”
professors. When we later taught at the University of Hawai’i, attempts to
create similar seminars were successful in content, but not in spirit; the time
had passed, and the post-Vietnam malaise had set in.
Interest in Bill Longacre at the
University of Hawaii was directly responsible for the positions we obtained
there after completing our degrees, and, certainly for some of the changes that
then infected Pacific and Asian Archaeology. UH attempted, in 1969, to hire Bill
away from UA. Seriously. Of first interest is that this Pacific outpost
understood enough of the New Archaeology to make such an attempt.
Remember, this is well before Bill
began his Kalinga project. But, Dick Pearson, an East Asia Specialist and Yale
Ph.D. and Roger Green, a Harvard Ph.D. and well- established Polynesianist,
made the attempt. Failing miserably, they asked, at the 1969 SAA meeting, if he
had an acceptable student (protégé). With rash indiscretion Bill recommended
then hopefully-to-graduate PBG. Griffin, a fan of Hawaiian music and long dark
hair, hied off to Honolulu. A year later, seeing the need for reinforcements,
he invited HDT to join him. The rest is (unwritten) history. We are older, less
wise and more mellow, but have not set aside much of the enthusiasm that led to
prefacing a paper aimed at the “Old Archaeology;” quoting from The Space
Child’s Mother Goose_(Winsor 1958:1).
Probable-Possible, my black hen,
She lay eggs in the Relative When.
She doesn’t lay eggs in the Positive Now
Because she’s unable to Postulate How.
An interesting dialectic was
developing in Hawai’i, centering on a tension between University of Arizona
graduates and graduates of east coast universities, particulary Yale. Bill
Solheim was the first archaeologist from UA to join the faculty at UH; Solheim
preceded New Archaeology, but he did shake the Pacific staidness out of the
place with his revolutionizing Southeast Asian archaeology and the origins of
the Neolithic! And, he got an Arizona
Ph.D. in 1960 and with a beard, in spite of Emil! Anyway, back to Yale. Early
in Hawai’i’s colonial history, Yale became a destination of choice for
Hawai’i born whites, many of them
descendants of the original colonizing missionaries. Now, one may recall that
Yale was not a hotbed of New Archaeology. KC Chang’s Rethinking Archaeology (properly
noted as “Retarding Archaeology” by Lew Binford – we forget the reference or
bar side personal communication) fit well as the Old Pacific hands’ approach to
archaeology,- it was all good stuff, and necessary, but not where the New
archaeology was headed. Archaeology in the Pacific and Hawaii at that time was
very different from that of the mainland US.
The University of Hawaii was in come
some ways a gradual transition between the two worlds, and in some ways it was
at a sharp boundary. There were number of graduate students from elsewhere in
the Pacific, and they came with training in different traditions: French,
British, Japanese, or local New Zealand-Australian. Many of the areas where
they had worked had seen limited archaeology and they were still puzzling over
basic space-time archaeological boundaries, equivalent to SW archaeology in the
1920’s, and they saw New Archaeology as an intellectual luxury. Many graduate
students from the US mainland had come to study with Bill Solheim, but his was
not research with a major theoretical orientation. We were the
pre-post-post-modernists.
The irony of Yale/Arizona influences
is amusing when one looks at the small world of archaeologists’ interactions.
In 1968 Kenneth Emory, (Yale /Bishop Museum) visited the University of Arizona,
giving a talk in the Arizona State Museum. Not only did he interest us, but he
captivated Rob Hommon, who nearly immediately got a job under Emory at the Bishop
Museum, abandoned Tucson, and became Hawaiian archaeologist obsessed (we put
this positively) with evolution of the Hawaiian state. We had all known of
Sahlin’s Polynesian Social Stratification and Services’ Primitive
Social Organization from Bill, and off Rob Hommon went. Sahlins had written
his book in the Bishop Museum and taught at Michigan, influencing Binford.
William Kikuchi left Hawai’i after his MA and work at the Bishop Museum to
study at Arizona. Others in teaching and the CRM field over the years have
moved
from
Tucson to Hawai’i. The flow continues (and we suggest that this Yale-Arizona
tension resulting from the ideas of Bill Longacre still casts a large shadow
over Hawaiian and all Polynesian archaeology). Bill himself is in the mix,
having been a visiting professor at UH, and hopefully we can get him there
again and learn how to properly mix a martini.
The resident archaeologists of the
Pacific (regardless of their national origin) got little caught in the foment
of the era (neither that of the US or the equivalent movement in the mother
England). Regardless of age, many were resentful of the issues raised by the
New Archaeology, seeing at as demeaning their efforts in culture history. At
the same time, many of the issues that Bill and the New Archaeology had raised
began to be obliquely addressed in the research of the early 1970’s in Hawaii
and the Pacific, where there was a significant expansion of the questions asked
of the archaeological record, and efforts to determine how to measure
variables, not just artifacts. In one example, a prominent archaeologist was
giving a lecture on settlement pattern of an era he had studied, and was asked
about population density. He railed about the impossibility of determining
population numbers from archaeological data, but later in the published report
devoted many pages to population and its importance in the process of cultural
change.
The influence of Longacre and New
Archaeology in Hawai’i today can be seen in a direct way. The early 1970’s saw
the implementation of the National Historic Preservation Act with the formation
of a Hawaii State historic preservation office and the beginning of what is now
called CRM archaeology. In the early regulations promulgated by preservation
staff, the necessity for problem solving and hypotheses testing in carrying out
archaeological contract work was explicitly laid out. The head of that office
had just graduated from UH. Bill Longacre, Lew Binford and the New Archaeology
were not mentioned by name, but their influence was clearly there. The legacy
remains in current state regulations that direct 95% of the archaeological
research in Hawai’i.
Longacre’s influence is hardly
restricted to the Pacific Islands. The University of Hawai’i looks as much to
Asia as to the Pacific Islands; witness the lead of Bill Solheim. The germ of
ethnoarchaeology planted in Griffin’s mind in 1965 in fact was instrumental in
his acceptance of the UH position – the Department OK’d creation of a project
among hunter-gatherers in Southeast Asia, as long as some Hawaiian archaeology
was accomplished. Griffin’s first love, work among the Agta in the Philippines,
began at the same time Bill initiated his Kalinga ethnoarchaeology. We should
point out that this not only spread the ideas of ethnoarchaeology and the New
Archaeology into Asia, but also ultimately led to two more faculty hires of
Bill’s students – Michael Graves and Miriam Stark.
The
following is a modest re-phrasing of
Bob
Dylan, My Back Pages, 1964;
Crimson
flames run through our ears
Rollin’
high and mighty traps
Pounced
with fore on flaming roads
Using
ideas as our maps…
Yes,
our guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too
noble to neglect
Deceived
us into thinking
we
had something to protect
Good
and bad, we define these terms
Quite
clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah,
but we were so much older then,
We’re
younger than that now.
Bill provided us with many of the
ideas that we have used as maps, helped us identify those abstract threats and
to define the terms quite clear, and for this we are most appreciative. As
Dylan says, yes, things have changed; the archaeological landscape is different
from what it was 35 years ago, and Bill is responsible for much of that change.
We will not forget being there when those times were changing.