War is astaple Of civilization. Its mass, rationalized, chronic presence has increased as civilization has spread and deepened. Among the spedfic reasons it doesn't go away is the desire to escape the horror of mass-industrial life. Mass society of course finds its reflection in mass soldiery and it has been.this v.:ay from eiliiy civilization. In the age of hyper-developillg technology, war is fed by new heights ofdissociation and disembodiment. We are ever further from a grounding or leverage from which to oppose h (while too many accept paltry, symbolic "protest" gestures).

How did it come to be that war is "the proper work of man," in the words of Homer's Odysseus? We know that organIZed warfare advanced with early industry and complex social organization in general, but the question of origins predates even Homer's early Iron Age. The explici t archaeological/anthropological literature on the su bject is surpri si ngly sl ighL

Civilization hus always had a basic interest in holding it, subjectS captive by touting the necessity of official armed force. 11 is a prime ideological claim that withQut the state's monopoly on violence. we would be unprotected and insecure. After all. according to Hobbes, the human condition hus been and will always be that of "a war ofall against all." Modem voices, too, have argued that humans arc innately aggressive und violenl, and so need to be constrained by am1ed autholity. Raymond Dart (e.g. Adventures with the Missing link, J959), Robert Ardrey (e.g. African Genesis, 1961), and Konrad Lorenz (e.g. On Aggression, 1966) are among the bcst known, but the evidence they put

GREEN ANARCHY #21

forth has been very largely discredited.

In the second half of the 2l)<h cen­rnl)', this pessimislic view of human nature began to shift. Based on archaeological evidence, it is now a tenet of main­stream scholarship that pre -ci viliza­tion humans Jived in the absence of viole nee-more specifica1ly, of or­ganized violence. Ei b)- E ibesfel dt referred to the !Ko­Bushmen as not bellicose: 'Their cullu ral ideal is peaceful coexist­ence, and they achieve thi s by avoiding conflict, lhat is by spHtting hp, andby emphasjz­iog and encou.mging the numerous pat­terns of bonding.'" An earlier judge­ment by WJ. Perry is generalJy accurate, if .somewhat ideal­

ized: "Warfare, immoral.ity, vice, polygyny. slavery, and the subjection of women seem to be. absent among our gatherer-hunter ancestors:"

The current literature consistently reports that unti Ilhe final stages of the PaleolitiJic Age-until just prior to the present IO,OOO-year era of domestication-there is no conclusive evidence that any lools or hunting weapons were used against humans at alP "Depictions of battle scenes, skinnishes and hand-La-hand combat are rare in hunter-gatherer art and when they do occur most often result from contact with agriculturalists or industrialized invaders," concludes Ta<;oll and Chippindale's study of Australian rock art,4 When conflict began to emerge. encounters rately lasted more than half an hour. and if a death occurred both parties would retire fit once.'

The record of Native Americans in California is similar. Kroeber reponed that their fighting >Va.<l "notably bloodless. They even went so far as to take poorer arrows to war than they used in economic hunting."6 Willlu people of Nonhern California called off hostilities once someone was injure<j,J "Most Californians were absolutely nonmilitary; they possessed next 10 none of the traits requisite for the military horizon, acondition Ihat would have taxed their all but nonexisient social organization too much. Their societies made no provision for collective political action:' in the view of Turney-High.s Lorna Marshall described Kung' Bushmen as celebrating no valiant heroes or tales of battle: One of them remarked. "Fighting is very dangerous; someone

Page 12

iii

might get killed !"~ George Bird Grinnell's "'Coup . and Scalp Among the Plains Indians"lo argues that counting coup (striking or touching an enemy ·with the hand or a small stick) was the highest point of(essentially nonviolent) bravery. whereas scalping was not valued.

The emergence of institutionalized warfare appears to be a.<lsociated witb domestication, and! or a drastic change in a society's physical situa­tion. As Glassman pUIS it, this comes about "only where band peoples have been drawn into the warfare of honiculturalists or herders, or driven into an ever-diminishing teni tory." ,, The first reliable archaeological evidence of warfare is that of fortified, pre-Biblical )ericho, c. 7500 B.C, In £he early Neolithic a relatively sudden shift happened. What dynamic forces may have led people (0 adopt war as a social i'nstitution? To dute. this question has not been explored in any depth by archaeologists. . Symbolic culmre appears £0 have emerged in the Upper Paleolithic; by the Neolithic it was finnly established in human cultures everywh~re.

The symbolic has a way of effacing particularity, reducing human presence in its specific, non­mediated aspecL~. It is easier to direct violence against a faceless enemy who represents some officially defined evil or threat Ritual is the earlieiit known form of purposive symbolic activity: symbolism acting in the world. Archaeological evidence suggeslS that there may be a·Iink between ritual and the emergence of orglUJized warfare. During the almost timeless era when humans were

not interested in dominating their swmuodings, certain places were special and came. to be known as sacred sites. This was based on a spiritual and emotional kinship with the land, expressed in various forms of lotemism or custodianship. Ritual begins to appear, but is not central to band or forager societies. Emma Blake observes, "Although the peoples of the Paleolithic practiced rituals, the richest material residues date from the Neolithic period onward, when se.dentism and the domestication of plants and animals brought changes to the outlook and cosmology of people everywhere."12 It was in the Upper Paleolithic that certain strains and tensions caused by the development of s;pecialization first became evident. Inequities can be measured by such evidence as differing amounts of goods at hearth sites in encampments; in response, rimal appears to have bogun to playa greater social roie. As many have noted, ritual in this context is a way of addressing deficiencies ofcohesion or solidari ty; j t is a means, of guaranteeing a social order that has become problematic. As Bruce Knauft saw, "ritual reinforces and puts beyond argument or question certain highly general propositions about the spiritual and human world .. ,[and] predisposes deep-seated cognitive acceptance and behavi oral campi iance with these cos­mological propositions:") Ritual thus provides the original ideological glue for societies now in need of such legitimati ng assistance. Face-lo-face solUlions beoome ineffective as social solutions, when communities become complex and already partly stratified. The symbolic is a nOll-solution; in facl, it is a type of enforcer of relationshi ps nnd world-views characterind by inequality and estrangement.

~-

Ritual is itself a type of power, an early, pre-state fonn of politics. Among the Maring people of Papua New Guinea, for instance, the con ventions of the ritual cycle speci fy duties or roles in the absence of explicitly political authorities. Sanctity is therefore a functional allernati ve to politics; sacred conventions, in effect, govern society. I. Ritllalization is clearly an early strategic arena for the incorporation of power relations. Further, warfare can be a sacred undertaking, with militarism promoted ritually, blessing emergent social hierarchy.

Rene Girard proposes that rituals of sacrifice are a necessary counter to endemic aggression and violence in society.'~ Somelhing nearer to the reverse is more the case: ritual legiti mates and enacts violence. As Lienhardt said of the Dinka herders of Africa, to "make a feast or sacrifice often implies war."'6 Ritual does not substitute for war. according to Arkush and Stanish: "warfare in all times and places has ritual elements." 17 They see the dichotomy between "ritual battle" and "rcal war" to be false, summarizing that "archaeologists can expect de­structive warfare and ntua! to go handin hand."'8

It is not only among Apache groups, for example, that the mOSt ritualized were the most agricuhura I, '0 but that so often ri lual ha~ mainl y to do with ugriculture and warfare, which are often very closely linked.:<J Jl is not uncommon to find warfare itself seen a~ a means ofenhaocing the fertility of cultivated ground. Ritual regUlation of product ion and bell igerence means that domestication has become the decisive factor. "The emergence of systematIc warfare, fonifications, (iIld weap­ons 0 fdestruction," says Hassan, "follows the path of agriculture."21

Ritual evolves imo religiolls systems, the gods come forth, sac­ri fice is demanded. "There is no doubt that all the inhabitants of {_ the unseen world are greally interested III

human agriculture," notes anthropologist Verrier Elwin." Sac­rifice is an excess of domestication. involving domesticated animals and occurring only in agricultu ral societi es. Ritual killing, including human sacrifice, is unknown in non-domesticated cultures.'!'

Corn in the Americas tells a parallel story. An abrupt increase in corn agriculture brought with it the rapid elaboration of hierarchy and miJitarizat ion iul arge parts of bOlh contlllenb.'< One instance among many is the northward intJusion of the Hohokams againstlhe indigenous Ootanls!~ of soutllem Arizona, introducing agri­cuJrure and organized warfare. By ahout 1000 A.D. the farming of maize had he<:ome dominant throughout fhe Southwest, l'1)mplete wi tIl year·round

ritual observances, priest­hoods. social conformity, human sacrifice, and ean­nibalism. 26 It is hardly an understatement to say, with Krocbcr, that with maize agricu \ture, "all cultural values shifted.""'

Horses are another instance of the close connection between domestication and war. First domesticated in the Ukraine around 3000 B.C., their objectification ~

fed m i Ii larism di rectly. Almost from the very be­ginning they served as machines; most impor­tantly, as war machines. lS

The relalively harmless kmds of inlergroup fighting described above gave way 10 systematlc killing as domestication led to mcreasing competition for land. 2Y The drive for fresh land to be exploited is widely accepted as the leading specific cause of war throughout the course of civilization. Once-dominant fed ings ofgratitude toward a freely givj-ng nature and knowledge of the crucial interdependence of alII ife are replaced by the ethos ofdomesl icalion: humans versus the natural world. :rhis endunng power struggle is the template for the wars it constantly engenders. There was awareness of the price exacted by the

paradigm of control, as seen in the wide­spre ad prac tice of symbolic regulation or ameli oral ion of domestication ofani­mals in the early Neolithic. But such gestures do not alter the fundamental

i dynamic at work, . any more than they

preserve m iiI io ns of years' worth of g(lt herer- Ilu n ters' practices that bal­anl;ed population and subsistence.

Agricultural intcn­sification meant more warfare. SubmiSSion to this panern rcqu ires that all aspects of society form an IIlle­grated Whole from which there is lillIe

or no escape. With domestication, divi sion - of labor now produces full-time speciali SIS

tn coercion: for example, definitive evidence show~ a soldier class established in the Near East by 4500 B.C. The Jivaro -of Amazonia, for millennia a harmonious com­ponent of the biotic community, adopted domestication, and "have elaborated blood revenge and warfare to a point where these activities set the tone for the whole sociely:'-'" Organi zed viol ence beco mes pervasive, mandatory, and normative.

Page 13

Expl1:ssions ofpower are the essence ofcivilization, wi th its core priilciple of patriarchal,rule. It may be that systematic male dominance is a-bY'producl of war. The ritual subordination and devaluation of women is certainly advanced by warrior ideology, wluch increa.~ingly emphasized "male" activities and downplllyed women's roles.. The initiation ofboys is a rilllal designed to produce

a certain type of man, an outcome dIat is not at all guaranteed by mere biological growth. When group cohesion can no longer be taken for granted, sym.bolic inslirutions are required----especially to further compliance .with pun;uits such as warfare. LemmOltier's judgment is that "male initiations ... are connected by their very essence with war."·11

Polygyny, the practice of one man taking multiple wives, is rare in gatherer-hunler b<1nds, but is the norm for war-makmg village societies:" Once again, domestication is the decisive factor. It is 00

coincidence lhat circumcision rinlals by the Merida people of Madagascar culminatc<l in aggressive military parades.'J There have been instances where women not only hunt but al~o go into combat (e.g. theAmaz.ons ofDahomey; certain groups in Borneo), but it is clear that gender consuucrion has tended t(Jward a masculinht, nulitaJist direction. With slate formation, warriorship was a conunon requirement of citizenship, cxdurJing women from poUtical1 ife,

War is not only ritualistic, usually with many ceremonial featufCs; it is also a very fOlmali:r'w practice. Like ntual itself, war is performed via strictiy prescribed movements, gestures, dress, and forms ofspeech. Soldiers are identical and slrUctured in a stllndllrdiz:ed display. The formations of organized vi olence, with their columns and lines, are lik~ agriculture and its rows: files on a grid." Conlroll\nd discipline are thus served, returning to lhe theme of ritualized !:Jehavior. which is always an increased elaboration of authority.

Exchange hetween bands in the Paleolithic I'llnctioned Jess as trade lin the Cl:on0 mic sense) than a~ exchange of infomlatlOl1. Periodic inter­group gatherings offered marriage opportunities, and insured against resource shortfalls. There was no cle<lr differentiation of social and eco­nomic sphere,. Similarly, to apply our word "work" is misleading in the absence of pro­duction or commodities. Wbile ten'itonality was parI of forager-hunter activity, there is no evidence that it led to war.'-'

(~ol\til\\!eJ 0)\ po.'je IS)

FALLIWJNTER '05-'06 ISSUE

, ~- -

We are, as Griffin puts it, divided against our- J

selves. Where does this, then, leave women? Are we, as some male philosophers would have it, less capable of rational and symbolic though1? The idea of astrict division between genetical and social is severely symptomatic of western polarized thinking, There exist no absolute ge­netical predispositions, The concept of inherited traits has meaning only in a specified context; genotype is inextricably linked to fenotype; in isolation, the former is amere abstraction, One might also point out that even if statistical differences were found between men and women, the fact that even afew individuals might not be correctly described by the statistical model, would be an argument against imposing societal norms that would limit the individual freedom of (at least) these individuals.

On the other hand, a complete denial of any dependence upon the biological conditions of the human organtsm is absurd. Humans have evolved dUring hundreds of thousands of years, and the evolution has been fully determined by the physical surroundings. Our eyes have gotten their form in dialogue with caribou, mayfly and nuthatch; our tongues are a product of clear spring water and ripe plums, All that we experience as meaningful, even the most abstract construction, we experience using thought that took form during millions of years on vast savannas, and under wet rocks. To, like Judith Buller and other postmodernist feminist thinkers have, take astance of complete physiological relativism does nothing to resolve the constructed gap betwl;len mind and matter.

It is clear that women are to a great extent participating in upholding and recreating patriar­chal structures. Women's liberation is by many feminists identified with the masculinization of women. In general, though, vvomen are not as en co uraged to build th eir pe rsonal identiti es around domination and transcendence of nature. Instead, we are generally brought up to develop capabilities of listening and sensing. In patriar­chal society, however, a most tu ndamental capacity is taken from us, the capacity to listen to ourselves. We are taught 10 fill the needs of

,. .I \ men, rather than to acknowledge those of our own. In reclaiming this capacity, though, we

j might also be able to use the values that have' been laught to us in creating a world that is

, j i I undivided, undenied, livable,

(~ol'l.f,Y\uecl fro", pll.se I:;)

by John Zerl3nOn the Origins Of War Domestication erects the rigid bound<lrics of

surplus and private properly, with concomilaJJl possessiveness, enmity. and struggle for owm:r­ship. Even conscious mechanisms aimcd at mitigating the new realities cannot remove their ever-present, dynamic force. In The Gift, Mauss portrayed exchange as peacefulty resolved war. and war-as the result of LJ ns ucce",ru) transilt'lions: he saw the polJateh as a SOI1 of sublimated w'ufare.'"

Before domestication, boundaries were fiuid, The freedom to leavl:: one band for another was an integral pal1 of forager life. The more or less forced integration demanded by cOlllplex soci eties provided a staging ground conduei ve to organized violence. In some, places. chiefdoms <Irose from ihe suppression of smaller eOfTllTIunities' independence. PI'OlO­political centralizatIOn wa~ at times pushed forward in the Amelicas by tnbcs desperately trying 10 confederate to flght European invaders. Ancient civilizations spread a> a result of war,

and it can be said that warfare IS both a c<lllse of statehood, and its result

Not much has changed since war was first instituted. renlW in ritual and given full-growth potential by domesticalion. Marshall Sahlins first poinled out that increased work folJo\Vs develop­ments in symbolil: culture. It's also the c<lse that culture begets war, de~pile claims to thecontnny. After all, lhe im~onaJ character of CI vi liz<llion grows With the ascendance of the symbolic Symbols·(e.g. nalional flags) allow our species to dehumanize our fellow-humans, thus enabl ing systematic intra-species carnage.

Notes: IJ£ibJ~£jt"l=...... rr;Jt. "i\U rt~ IOflln lr.c: !Ko-B~l1men .." ll1 M<Udn A N-:='II :tcil1Jp. ed...... l-\0J, j/~· C(lH.~S GIrd tiJrre!H!I.':f (llie HfJ.g\1C Mnul0n, 1975)., p }In

~ Wj. Perry. "l""he Gokk:n Agt::· In 7Jw Hif)l~"f )numal X v ~ I r91 h P 44­) Anh-.l( F~rrill. TJu: On.tlJm oflVur fnltU r/u.' Stone Af!1! rrl ,11~·.TotlJer

11i~ Gt"t"aI {New York Tllol'('lf':'" ,'f,I"),j lJud~lln J985).. p. J6 ~ f'aul T(J~oo:J.IId Ch.r~opl1CrChlrplnthdt.. "'A~l:(tm1Ja'~ I\oejo:nl WaJTio~~

Cl1.-t.n,ging Dcpjc~io:n!'. 01 Flghling In lh.c Rock An of Arnll.el'l"l Lund.. NT,," Camhridf,t' I1rchaeo!u.~k(J1 }olJr1J..a! 4:2 (I~), P 2J I. ~ Mauncc: R ~\'IC::, Th~' £,'O(utlOu IJ{Wlir. /1 Sw,h of 't~· Rrdt' ill ~l.JrI\

S(J{'I~(Jl.'.\" (New Hayen; YllJ.::: UnJvto-r:-'lty P[e~~, 1929), p. ?47J te, A.L. Kroe~r, Hfl/Jdboo/.. (Ii Ihe /ru/iml.<; oJ'ClliJl.ll"Itid: IJulle:lffI 18

(WaslltTl~[On. D.C.. BllT-:("IU of AIlI~T'call r..1 h.n.ulogy" 1923), p, 152 ~ Chri~lorhrr Cllo~e·Dunn JJ1d Kelly!l,,\ Mon. T1le W;ntu (IUd rlleir NI'r8hWr.; (T\Ic..:;on L·f1Iv-e~II.'r' 1)1 Ar[7,(lrl.:J. Pre~~, r(J98-). p JOt ~ Han)' Holben TlUT.C)'-HIP"J.P'III,:m·~ WlJ"/· 111 ProC{J/c(mdCom·t'pl...

(CoIUlnhl<J, L'niverSIIY O(SllUlh Camlillfl Pl"e::.~, 19~9), p, 2:;'9. 1 Lorna r-.-br~J"!.:~J, "Kung~ 8LL,htl')l-I1l B;)nd.~,," in RDrwlJ Cohen ~JI1c1 Jpl.lIl r"liddlettJOl. Od...... , c."ompar"(lfh'(" Prl!llr('al S\'.\·tfrlll,<; (Gan]en City: NalUI'<l1 Hj ~or)' Pre.,. 19~ 71. r 17

Page 15 FALLIWlliTER '05-'OS ISSUE

'(I G~)Q;.e Blru Gnon('l1 "Coup .and SC<l.Ip ar'l'long Ihc Plo'n~ Indian.s.," ,l!JI¢'i"lutl/ AnflJmpm()}!,'sl 12 (J9101, pr ~St(j..J.JO Jon" Snmds If) TimocI .11',.: .\-bl:gtlt Llbe(1yrmlkelht=.'>i!flle: !llJinl m(JJC1faJe,-eun~M('mon ...·.y(Ncw H::J."<,."I:" Y;',:,;;- Unh'('~lty Prr-~:..., I%7~, rp 61..{jJ, Al~, Tl1Ll"t::'y-High. up. 6,... W,141.1>:6,

II ROIl.ilkl It (il;,J....."rlliU1.lJelllrJ('r(l(·\ mid fJe.l"pVlf.'mJ lit P"lIf1itM.' &x:u.'f7f?S, ~11/IIJrrt"O!l('"rMirtwl);x.I, f\1;:,wY(')li.:.. A~cx.·l<:l.lcd f"ooculty ~'\., 1?S6).p III

I? Emma BhJh, ·...(be 1"1 :.Jt":-l1~l' f::.xP1"C~)Orl uf Cult. Rlt II Lll. anJ F~l;.l$lm g::' In clilmOl BI<J~'>= ,Iml ,,\ .R.~m::J.rd Kll~pp .. eili., The Archu(.'olo;:y (If MedJU'rmlltwl Prr,!J('t(uYI' .:Nc..... York: m4l.{'h~il. 2005), p, lQ9 1.\ BrtlCl::: M, Kn<.l.un, "CuILure and CuupcL.lIJQn in Hum.ar1,Evolutkm,"

In u?'ht' Spons-:I olld 'ThQrn~s a~gnr. ed:-.. The Aftlhmptl(o!!,v ofhlJct: f!lld NUlll'il!l'-'I/("r· rBmllder, L. Rii:Jlner.. 1994). r -45

IJ Roy A. R'1ppapml. p,'JI,..'i.Mrtilc AJ1I'~'.H()r.\"· Rifual m 111 1' £':~~{"k.~'n.f

(l N"II (IJI//II:"(/ Pt'fJp/f' (f',lew H<J"Ien- Yak LrLlvcrsity P~s..... , 1967), PI} 2;L6~2.H

1.\ R~llc GlrJf..:! .. VirJl('tl("{' dud 1111.' Sutrt'd, lriJJ1.s1mcd by Palnek. Gregory

(:B:J.JllI~lort', JOhfl.~ I·ll'pkln;\ Ull;~'er:"iIlY Press.. 1977) Like:: Ardrey LInd l...oren!, Clranl ...t;m.o;; fr(W"llbc I:lb~tll'tl VI~W 'ha.l all ~w.llife lB[e(:jX"d

in Vll,kIIC':;. It. 0 llenh'm..h. OimUI\' dJld £..qH:rU-1JN'· 'flit. Rd(~mfr of the Dinf({J ~O;(,(U[iJ Oxford lInLversily Pros..~ 1961). p. 2.!\l

17 EII~.aoc\h Arkw;,h anti Ch;.arles Slar~l:ih, "lnlerprC{lng Confhcl III Ihe

AI1.cI~:1I1 Andc-s Jrnrllcunor,.~ fn( (he:: A.rcMoolon of W.:..lil<)Tt," Ci~f!"eIlJ

Amhmpolo,(\ ~16 1 (Fel1(\lllry 2(05). p l6. I~ Ihl(/" P '4. I~ J::llnt::~ L. tL::JIf')', (l,/JO('I("S'''~ HfJ"'(lyr (JuJ Ctdtll~ f-'n,.lfGJh (Gilrderl CllY, !\ly: ~Hlbkd<lY.. J~P,ll, pp 95-96.

~'R:;pp:.lpol'l, fJ/J.Of, p 2."\.4, fl" o.i.lmrk:. !l Quoled by Rohen Kllhlken. "Wi.irtarr Ilnd JntC'nsi~ Agriculture In

Fiji," in Chi1~ Gl):,-dell Mid JU:1 H~ttr,.cr. rJ.$., 'nit: Prt'11lJirrlrl flf f('lO(i'

IIpfJt-lifc., fi" Ch(mxC' (t\~w York' i~(lulbjge. 1(>99). p. 271 Works ~u~·1l 'I.~ Lr1wl~ILI.,:c H Keele-y, ~l{tr 81/fH? Ch'flil,tJIIOfT rNoI:'w York

Oxford Uni~"CT.SIlY Pr~::-.s, I 99tl) ~Il(j Picrre ClaSlfl:~.. ArchamJo!.)' oj"

VIv!t'Itf"C" (:'J~w Yurk SeJlIllJloex1(C' J.. 199-4) ,;om~hOw mi.lllage 11' Dverr

J0tl!t..ttn·.. po;nr !~ Vt:rrl~r Elwm flu- R~Ii,'~io" O!ff/l IJlJwrr Tf"/b~ (London. Oxford Unl ~'CrsL,Y ~s:.-... J9:'i:50, r 300 :'1 JOnlllhan Z SmIth. ""The O('lntCstlc3tlOfl of Sacrilice," I" Roberl G. Hilmt:nl~n-Kdly" cd ... Frolr!;{Jr Orfl-:IILT (SlanJ\lrd Sianfurtl Unj.... r:r.sLC)' PTe». 19N7l. pp, 191. 21l1. . !l Cnri5c~nc A. 11(151or[ Mld .)ls.'>C"1 Jol1i.JnrrE::~s.ert, "'Becoming COfn­E,iUCr:o:; If'l P"rehj;'tiwrk Allll;'"rU,,'il.,'·Il) Jull;u\nC\..o;cr. LInd rhJSolorf. e.b." Com (lnrl Crdlurt' In Iii" fH:fiJ.\"torj{" lYe-II mHW' (Bo\.l]d.el" Wt::~YJtw" Pres~,

IStY4) .. ~q)(x·kJ.lJy rl' ·:3:l8-4J3. '<" CharJ~~ Oi Peso, 'l7rt:. Ur~fl(!r Pilltf/ of $<Ut CCI)'efW/(J df' Tumw·o,vri (Or;l,gwn .. AZ ArHtrm-d hl~IIIU-::3HOfl, I95(i), pp IY, 104" 252" 260 ·~ChfJ:->lyG.l11mer((and Ja~G:llehneA,1\lrner.Mml Com' Cannrbn!L'·m

(itU'1 "'~Of~/H'~' ijJ f!t( In'IIJ,\·/rJl'ic t1nJ~'nn/11 SOld!r\I'l."SI (Salt Lil.ke CLCy,

LLnl"VCHlty or l!t.;Ih Press, 19S1'4)). pp J, 400. 484

~) A.L KrC'lClx:r. Crllilmil mtd NlJfum! !1.r.:'CfJ· tlf ";mh'e No,.//I AnI~ri('"{J

r&rkclcy' Unlv~~HY oJ"Ci.\.JifumiLi Pre~:.., 1963}, p 214. :.. HumId B. B:.m,'I'ly, {II(' Ro!(' oj the lIon'r:' Itr MaTT 's CI~}lw·-e

(LondoJl J.. A. Allen, 1980)" c.g. r 21 l'J Ru:hard W Howell.. "WlJf Wl1hour Conllict:" (Il Ne-tl!t;shLp, np.("rl"

~r 68.'-£84 'J) Bel[)' J Me-ggc". /lm((l,QHlct. Mara ~tld CulturfJ itl CdlurlL'rftll

PUfTldiY-t.' (ClIK·(.IgU. Aldlfle Alherlon, 197 J) .. pp 100, 1580, 11 Pjc:m; Lem.monic::r. "'Plg~ i:l!> OrdlIJary Wt:ullh.~ in Pierre Lemonniec, cod ... 7€'dal(JIO,~'('{jJ ClIW("(J Ti~/II.Tj()f"ljI0//01t In Mmuiat OrJ(lH"(!.~ s;'Ke

11I~ Nt'IJ/r/lJi( (l...ondofl' R"llllcclSe.. 1993),'p J~Q.

l~ K.rii..luf1 .. op.r1I., P 50. "kLrVIn H.:.LiJ~:>, C(lIl1iihal.J (JW! Kr'1'/1J~ (New

Yorio: R,lnoom HI1US~, I 977}, r 39, B M:lurict= Bloch. Prf"V mfo HlJ1f/~r, TJit' Pnflf,,·.\ (~! Rclr,'i!,J(JH.1

I?x/'~'dcl~~·" (COII')Qrlugc C,nlr.ndge L1n;\'c~)ly Prr,~:o:. 1992), p, 88 U The "rank'ond-file" ot o~:lniz(:<1 labor tS ao()(he{" prodlXI ot

Ihc::,c\lrlf,lflill;...,

l~ Ruben L. C:.Jm!:'l[o.. '·W;.ar and f'eac~,"· In S.P Rcynu :lnd R.E Down.~.

cds., SIN,~h'il/,~ l%JI' 1!IIIIirtl{)olosinr( Pt'I"~l1-(o{Ft'S (L.:ll1gJl0m, PA:

GorGon !IlHr Bl"C<:lch. 1994), P 12.

"\>.. C!lcd and Ij;,~cu~.~cd ill M'l~h.illl Sahlin.:,: .. )f01rC A.ge ";("{IIIOJJJrl:J

(CllH,:iJ~U: :A.ldill...... J97:::: pp 174. 18~