Suchergebnisse

"What if we could imagine hierarchy not as a social ill, but as a source of social creativity and hope? In Nobody's People, Anastasia Piliavsky takes us into the world of thieves, the Kanjars, in the Indian state of Rajasthan. Introducing us to wily policemen, quirky aristocrats, and resourceful goddesses, she shows that locally hierarchy is a potent normative idiom through which they imagine better lives and pursue social ambitions. A community once patronized secretly by aristocrats and now precariously in the service of farmers and the police, Kanjars try and fail repeatedly to find a way into hierarchic relations rather than out of them. In a world where to be is to belong, they are nobody's people, who can be murdered with no moral restraint or remorse. Following Kanjars on their journey between death and hope, Piliavsky invites readers to see in hierarchy - not inequality - a viable ethical frame instead of an archaic system of subjugation. Doing so, she suggests, will help us understand not only rural Rajasthan, but also much of the world, including settings stridently committed to equality. Challenging egalo-normative commitments, Piliavsky asks scholars across the disciplines to consider hierarchy as a major intellectual resource"--

Patronage is a structural pivot of social life in South Asia. Drawing on the ethnography of relations between a caste of professional thieves in rural Rajasthan, known as Kanjars, and their patron-goddesses, I show that patronage is also, crucially, a normative formula which encompasses a set of values. I examine the nature of these values, and why the Kanjars value them such a lot, to show an alternative sense of hierarchy, based neither on substantive values (like purity or auspiciousness) nor on transactions, but on a set of relational values (like attachment and generosity) that may have cardinal provenance beyond the given context.

AbstractThis paper challenges the broad consensus in current historiography that holds the Indian stereotype of criminal tribe to be a myth of colonial making. Drawing on a selection of precolonial descriptions of robber castes—ancient legal texts and folktales; Jain, Buddhist and Brahmanic narratives; Mughal sources; and Early Modern European travel accounts—I show that the idea of castes of congenital robbers was not a British import, but instead a label of much older vintage on the subcontinent. Enjoying pride of place in the postcolonial critics' pageant of "colonial stereotypes," the case of criminal tribes is representative and it bears on broader questions about colonial knowledge and its relation to power. The study contributes to the literature that challenges the still widespread tendency to view colonial social categories, and indeed the bulk of colonial knowledge, as the imaginative residue of imperial politics. I argue that while colonialusesof the idea of a criminal tribe comprises a lurid history of violence against communities branded as born criminals in British law, the stereotype itself has indigenous roots. The case is representative and it bears on larger problems of method and analysis in "post-Orientalist" historiography.

AbstractThis paper contributes to the history of 'criminal tribes', policing and governance in British India. It focuses on one colonial experiment—the policing of Moghias, declared by British authorities to be 'robbers by hereditary profession'—which was the immediate precursor of the first Criminal Tribes Act of 1871, but which so far altogether has passed under historians' radar. I argue that at stake in the Moghia operations, as in most other colonial 'criminal tribe' initiatives, was neither the control of crime (as colonial officials claimed) nor the management of India's itinerant groups (as most historians argue), but the uprooting of the indigenous policing system. British presence on the subcontinent was punctuated with periodic panics over 'extraordinary crime', through which colonial authorities advanced their policing practices and propagated their way of governance. The leading crusader against this 'crisis' was the Thuggee and Dacoity Department, which was as instrumental in the 'discovery' of the 'Moghia menace' and 'criminal tribes' in the late nineteenth century as in the earlier suppression of the 'cult of Thuggee'. As a policing initiative, the Moghia campaign failed consistently for more than two decades. Its failures, however, reveal that behind the façade-anxieties over 'criminal castes' and 'crises of crime' stood attempts at a systemic change of indigenous governance. The diplomatic slippages of the campaign also expose the fact that the indigenous rule by patronage persisted—and that the consolidation of the colonial state was far from complete—well into the late nineteenth century.

Common sense commodifies the secret, alienating the value of its content from its social context. But a secret perfectly kept dies in its circle of initiates. Few secrets, however, are dead on arrival, since their seduction lies precisely in their revelation. Most things said to be hidden are in fact nurtured through the processes of calculated concealment, allusion, and revelation, the secrets propagating themselves through circles of conspiracy, rumor, and gossip. As Tim Jenkins observed, "What is concealed, and the reasons for its concealment, serve to distract attention from the dynamic of the secret: what at first sight appears to be static and indeed dead, possessed by and known to only a few, kept in some dark place, in fact has a life and movement of its own; the secret propagates itself through a structure of secret and betrayal" (1999: 225–26).

« Despite a rich history of ethnographic research in Middle Eastern societies, the region is frequently portrayed as marginal to anthropology. The contributors to this volume reject this view and show how the Middle East is in fact vital to the discipline and how Middle Eastern anthropologists have developed theoretical and methodological tools that address and challenge the region's political, ethical, and intellectual concerns. The contributors to this volume are students of Paul Dresch, an anthropologist known for his incisive work on Yemeni tribalism and customary law. As they expand upon his ideas and insights, these essays ask questions that have long preoccupied anthropologists, such as how do place, point of view, and style combine to create viable bodies of knowledge; how is scholarship shaped by the historical context in which it is located; and why have duration and form become so problematic in the study of Middle Eastern societies? Special attention is given to understanding local terms, contested knowledge claims, what remains unseen and unsaid in social life, and to cultural patterns and practices that persist over long stretches of time, seeming to predate and outlast events. Ranging from Morocco to India, these essays offer critical but sensitive approaches to cultural difference and the distinctiveness of the anthropological project in the Middle East. « (Verlagsbeschreibung)