Between the Napoleonic Wars (1792–1815) and the First World War (1914–18), we see the rise of modern Europe – and of the modern world. This was, above all, the age of the Industrial Revolution. In the 1700s, profound transformations had taken place in agriculture and manufacturing, particularly in Britain. Steam power and spinning machines had become widespread, and a growing class of landless peasants and urban labourers began to make themselves heard. But greater changes were ahead. In the 1830s, the first major railways were built; a decade later, steamships crossed the Atlantic on a regular basis; in 1838, Samuel Morse demonstrated the first functioning telegraph. It was becoming possible, on a scale the world had never seen before, to move vast quantities of information, raw materials, commodities and people across global distances.
This, in turn, meant that production could be increased both in agriculture and manufacturing. Europe was made able to feed more people than ever before – by increasing production and expanding imports. In 1800, Britain had 10.5 million inhabitants. By 1901, there were 37 million, 75 per cent of whom lived in towns and cities.
Peasants deserted the countryside, forced out by population pressure and rationalisation of agriculture, and migrated to urban centres like London or Paris, where they were re-socialised as workers.
Conditions in the rapidly growing cities were hardly optimal:
epidemics were common, and when the first British law against child labour was introduced in 1834, it affected only children under the age of nine. But conditions in the countryside were often even worse, as during the Great Famine in Ireland in 1845–52. In time, protests against these changes increased in frequency and scale. The most dramatic example was the French Revolution, but the Chartist revolt in Britain in the 1840s, the French, Austrian and Italian Revolutions in 1848–49, the Paris Commune of 1870, indicate the potential for violence that industrialisation unleashed.
Along with the protests, a new, socialist ideology emerged. Its roots went back to social philosophers such as Rousseau and the proto-socialist Henri de Saint-Simon (1760–1825), and to the German
neo-Hegelians, but its decisive formulation came with Karl Marx, to whom we shall shortly return. For the nineteenth century was also the century of the working class. In 1867 male British workers won the franchise, and soon they would achieve even greater gains in the class struggle.
But the success of the labour movement would hardly have been possible without the train and the steamship. More than 60 million European emigrants were transported by rail and ship to the USA, Australia, Argentina, South Africa, Siberia and elsewhere, relieving population pressure, and permitting a long-term rise in standards of living for those who remained. Meanwhile, in the colonies, admin-istrations spread European culture and institutions. This grand process of diffusion had variable effects. New power relations arose – between colonial administrator and Indian merchant, between plantation owner and black slave, between Boer, Englishman and Bantu, between settler and Australian aborigine. In the wake of these new manifold relations of dominance and dependence, new philosophies, ideologies and myths rose to defend or attack them.
The campaign against slavery is an early example, and slavery was successfully abolished in the British and French dependencies in 1833. But racism, which first emerged as an organised ideology during the nineteenth century, was a response to the same processes.
So was the internationalised science that now emerged. The global researcher becomes a popular figure – the prototype being Charles Darwin (1809–1882), whose On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection (1859) was based on data collected during his famous six-year circumnavigation of the globe.
EVOlUTiONiSm AND CUlTURAl HiSTORy
Global research demands global communications, hence it is hardly surprising that anthropology emerged as a discipline in these years.
So did sociology. If anthropology was an outgrowth of colonialism, sociology arose from the changing class relations that industrialisa-tion brought about in the West. All the classical nineteenth-century sociologists speculated on the nature of modernity and contrasted it with premodern conditions. Both disciplines shared a basic evolutionist orientation. Both studied society. And empirical data on premodern societies were delivered to both by anthropologists.
Despite such common interests, a deep split ran between the two subjects throughout the nineteenth century. The split expressed itself most profoundly in the German tradition. As we have seen,
the first ethnographic museums were established in Germany and Austria-Hungary, and this was where the foundations of German anthropology were laid. Here, the discipline was defined in Romanticist and humanistic terms, as a branch of cultural history rather than a social science, and the classical sociology that was also emerging in Germany at the time was deemed irrelevant and ignored.
British anthropology developed later, was less museum-based, and identified more closely with the natural sciences. This undoubtedly stimulated greater openness toward the social sciences as well; on the other hand, little of note was happening in British sociology.
In the United States the initial situation was similar, then German anthropology became the dominant influence, and sociology made no impression at all until much later. The split between the disciplines was least pronounced in France, and it was a Frenchmen who would finally restore the connection between them.
Theoretical discourse also differed markedly, though there were points of contact as well. Outside the German sphere of influence, anthropologists continued to develop the evolutionary ideas of the eighteenth century, proposing ever-new variations on Vico’s theory of stages. As we have seen, the idea that non-European societies were ‘less developed’ goes back to the 1500s, thus, the evolutionism subscribed to by nineteenth-century anthropologists was hardly breaking news, though their theories gained in complexity and their data in detail. The added stimulus provided by Darwinism after 1860 did little to change this. We should note that at the time, evolutionism was not associated with racism. On the contrary, like all the leading anthropologists of the day, the evolutionists subscribed to the principle of the ‘psychic unity of mankind’, first formulated by the German cultural historian Adolf Bastian (see below). This principle states that human beings everywhere belong to the same biological species, and genetic differences between cultures are cosmetic. In fact, the entire anthropological project rests on this tenet. Social evolutionists and cultural historians alike based their work on systematic cross-cultural comparison. If cultural differences were biologically determined, anthropologists were out of a job.
Meanwhile, Continental sociology followed the lead of Kant and Hegel, and explored the ‘socially constructed reality’ opened up by the two philosophers. The founding sociologists realised this project in various ways, but they shared the idea of society as an autonomous reality that must be studied on its own terms and with its own methods, not as a branch of natural science. Like
the anthropologists, the sociologists asserted the psychic unity of mankind and deferred to some variant of evolutionist theory. Unlike the anthropologists, who classified and compared the external char-acteristics of societies all over the globe, sociologists were concerned with the internal dynamics of Western, industrial society. Unlike the anthropologists too, nineteenth-century sociologists engaged in a sophisticated discourse on the dynamics of social systems, This would have a fundamental impact on anthropology as well, but only in the early twentieth century.
Here we shall illustrate the differences between these two emerging traditions with the work of two of their most prominent pioneers: the American anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan and the German sociologist Karl Marx.
mORGAN
Lewis Henry Morgan (1818–1881) grew up on a farm in New York, in the America of equality and opportunity that the French sociologist Alexis de Tocqueville would describe so prophetically in 1835 and with such ambivalent feelings. He was educated as a lawyer, and became a prosperous and active participant in local politics. An early champion of Native American political rights, he had been fascinated by Native Americans since his youth. In the 1840s, he lived with the Iroquois for some time, was adopted into one of their clans and given the name Tayadaowuhkuh: ‘he who builds bridges’. Morgan may in this sense be considered the first anthropological fieldworker.
Morgan witnessed the destruction of Native American society – notably their political and economic institutions – as a result of the massive influx of European settlers, and believed that most of their immaterial culture would soon also be irretrievably lost. He considered it a crucial task to document traditional culture and social life before it was too late. This attitude, often referred to as urgent anthropology, was shared by the second great American anthropologist, Franz Boas (Chapter 3), and is widespread in research on indigenous peoples.
Morgan had close contact with the people he studied, sympathised with their problems, and published detailed accounts of their culture and social life. But he also made substantial theoretical contributions, particularly in his pioneering work on kinship. Morgan’s interest in kinship dated back to his stay with the Iroquois. Later, he discovered surprising similarities and differences between their kinship system
and others in North America. He devised a large-scale comparative study of Native American kinship, eventually including other groups as well. Morgan created the first typology of kinship systems (cf.
Holy 1996), and introduced a distinction between classificatory and descriptive kinship that remained unchallenged until the 1960s. To simplify greatly – descriptive systems (like our own) differentiate kinsmen in ways that closely approximate biological kinship.
Classificatory kinship (as with the Iroquois) distributes individuals among broad kinship categories that may bear little or no relation to biological relations. In the first case, your in-laws never become family; in the second, they automatically do. But Morgan did more than formulate a theory; he grounded it in years of intensive study of existing kinship systems around the world. In his influential Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity of the Human Family (1870), the results of this research are presented, defining kinship, once and for all, as a primary anthropological concern.
For Morgan, kinship was primarily a point of entry to the study of social evolution. He argued that primitive societies were organised on the basis of kinship, and that terminological variations among kinship systems correlated with variations in social structure. But he also supposed that kinship terminology changed slowly and unevenly, and therefore contained clues to an understanding of earlier stages of social evolution.
In his magnum opus Ancient Society (1877), Morgan attempts a grand synthesis of all this work. He distinguishes three major stages of cultural evolution: savagery, barbarism and civilisation (with three sub-stages each for savagery and barbarism). His criteria for these divisions are mostly technological: his ‘savages’ were hunters and gatherers, ‘barbarism’ was associated with agriculture,
‘civilisation’ with state formation and urbanisation. In hindsight, it seems clear that Morgan’s synthesis did not succeed. Even if his basic evolutionary scheme is accepted, the details remain hazy. At times, isolated technological features are accorded unreasonable weight – for example, pottery is the criterion of the transition between two sub-stages. Where does that leave the Polynesian chiefdoms, with their complex political systems, but not a trace of pottery?
It is only fair to add that Morgan himself was conscious that his conclusions were often speculative, and critical of the quality of his (mostly secondary) data.
Morgan had considerable influence on later anthropology, particularly on kinship studies, but also on American cultural materialists and other evolutionist anthropologists from the
mid-twentieth century onwards (Chapter 5). But Morgan was read by sociologists as well. When Marx discovered Morgan toward the end of his life, he and his collaborator, Friedrich Engels, attempted to integrate Morgan’s ideas in Marxian evolutionary theory. The unfinished results of this work were published by Engels in The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State, in 1884, a year after Marx’s death.
mARX
The scope and aims of Karl Marx’s (1818–1883) work contrast sharply with Morgan’s, despite their shared commitment to materialist explanation. Marx’s writings on non-industrial societies are scattered and tentative. It was through his analysis of capitalist society in his foundational work, Das Kapital (vols 1–3, 1867, 1885, 1896; Capital, 1906), that he made his lasting contribution to social theory. Though the political influence of Marxism has waxed and waned, Marxian theory has remained an important academic influence.
Born in the same year as Morgan, in an inconspicuous German town, into a wealthy Jewish family – his parents eventually converted to Lutheranism – Marx completed a university education in philosophy before embarking on a career as social theorist, pamphleteer, editor, journalist, labour organiser and agitator. He was actively involved in the revolutionary wave that shocked the European establishment in 1848–49, and in the Paris Commune of 1870. After the Commune, he became known as the leading theorist of the international labour movement.
Marx is beyond doubt the most influential social theorist who ever lived, and his influence may be traced in innumerable analyses in most of the humanistic and social sciences. Simultaneously, Marx was a prominent political actor who contributed substantially to the formation of the nineteenth century’s labour movements and their offspring, from social democrats to Stalinists, in the twentieth century. The confluence of social theory and political activism runs deep in Marx, and gives his entire project a paradoxical and thought-provoking character (Berman 1982). Marx was an idealist Hegelian before he became a materialist, and his life’s project consisted, it is tempting to say, in unifying these contradictory impulses. From Hegel he had the idea of development toward a utopian goal, but he replaces the evolution of the world spirit with social evolution from (simple) classless societies to (complex) class societies, broken by an
apocalyptic transition to the new, classless society of Communism.
Here, it is not difficult to hear Rousseau between the lines. Marx also derived from Hegel the idea that evolution is driven by dialectics, that is, by conflicts – or ‘contradictions’ – that merge into higher unities, which again enter into conflict, and so forth. But in Hegel the conflicts are spiritual; in Marx they are material and social:
between the diverse factors that participate in material production;
between the social organisation of the system of production as a whole (‘infrastructure’) and the ‘superstructure’ of power and symbolism that the infrastructure sustains; between classes with conflicting relations to the system of production; between differing systems of production that collide.
The theory is so ambitious, and in many respects so ambiguous, that it was bound to raise problems when confronted with real-world complexities. An example is Marxian class analysis. Marx postulated that property holders and the propertyless constitute discrete classes with particular interests. The objective interest of the working class consists in overthrowing the ruling class through revolution. But the working class is only partly conscious of being exploited, since the true power relations are concealed by an ideology that justifies the existing order. Superstructural phenomena such as law, religion or kinship are typically infused with an ideological ‘false consciousness’
that pacifies the population.
But, asks the anthropologist, is this model applicable to non-Western contexts? How does it fit with Morgan’s dictum that kinship is the primary organising principle in primitive societies? Is kinship part of the infrastructure? How can that be, if kinship is an ideology that conceals the infrastructure? Must the entire distinction between infra- and superstructure, the material and the spiritual, be abandoned? In what sense, if any, is ideology ‘less real’ than matter? Such issues have been raised with fervour and sophistication in anthropology, and a significant part of Marx’s attraction today lies in his ability to generate questions such as these.
Marx himself was not oblivious to such problems. His extensive discussion of value formation is proof of this. The value of an object in itself, its concrete use value, its correspondence to real human needs, is transformed, under capitalism, into an abstract exchange value, its value as compared to other objects. ‘Material’
objects are transformed into ‘spiritual’ commodities, and the further this continues, the more abstract, absurd and alienated does the world seem. In such passages, ‘value’ becomes a deeply ambiguous concept, in which power and ideology, the material and the spiritual
merge seamlessly. Nevertheless, it remains doubtful whether Marx actually solved the problem he posed for himself. As anthropolo-gists we note that his difficulties with bringing materialism and (Hegelian) idealism together are reminiscent of Morgan’s problem with the materialist causes of kinship terminology. Only in the 1980s do we see a concerted effort to resolve this paradox.
BASTiAN AND THE GERmAN TRADiTiON
The decades before and after 1800 saw an unprecedented blossoming of German culture and science – in part inspired by Kant’s philosophical revolution, in part by the national renaissance stimulated by Herder, in part by innovations in linguistics (Herder had an impact here too), and in part by Goethe’s overshadowing presence as a poet, scientist and cultural paragon. Aside from poet-philosophers like Fichte and Schiller, the epoch saw many scientific advances: the theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834) gave the hermeneutic method its first modern formulation; the brothers Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm founded folklore studies;
Alexander and Wilhelm von Humboldt revolutionised German natural science and established the basis of modern linguistics.
The philosopher Friedrich von Schlegel (1772–1829) established comparative linguistics, whose success in untangling the history of the Indo-European languages was almost as sensational at the time as Darwin’s evolutionism.
The common denominator for this milieu was a commitment to humanism. Some, with Goethe, sought a unified science, whose humanist outlook would provide an esthetic-emotional counterweight to ‘hard’ sciences such as physics. In this spirit, Schleiermacher expanded hermeneutics, an ancient method for interpreting texts, into a method for interpreting the world, equally applicable to the natural sciences as to philology.
The Germans were sceptical to evolutionism, with its universalistic claims and scientific pretensions. Here, even at its high point, the evolution was always seen through the lense of particularism of cultural history. This is clearly seen in the work of Adolf Bastian (1826–1905), known as the father of German anthropology. In 1851, Bastian, a polymath educated as a medical doctor, departed on his first great expedition to Central America, Eastern and Southern Asia, Australia and Africa. The eight-year journey confirmed Bastian’s interest in ethnography, and on his return he published a famous three-volume treatise, Der Mensch in der Geschichte (1860, ‘Man
in History’; see Koepping 1983), which promoted views on human psychology and cultural history that shared little common ground with the evolutionists, who studied a universal movement and ignored the concrete events of cultural history. Bastian completed nearly a dozen great expeditions, accumulating a quarter-century of travel that carried him several times around the world. Back home, he authored long, learned works, was appointed Professor of Ethnology at the University of Berlin, and became Director of
in History’; see Koepping 1983), which promoted views on human psychology and cultural history that shared little common ground with the evolutionists, who studied a universal movement and ignored the concrete events of cultural history. Bastian completed nearly a dozen great expeditions, accumulating a quarter-century of travel that carried him several times around the world. Back home, he authored long, learned works, was appointed Professor of Ethnology at the University of Berlin, and became Director of