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Power, Persuasion, and Language: A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East Steven C. Caton International Journal of Middle East Studies, Vol. 19, No. 1 (Feb., 1987), 77-101. Stable URL htp:/flinks jstor-org/sii sici=0020-7438% 28 198702%29 19% 3A 1%3C77%3APPALAC%3E2.0,CO%3B2-M_ Inuernational Journal of Middle East Studies is currently published by Cambridge University Press, ‘Your use of the ISTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR’s Terms and Conditions of Use, available at hup:/www,jstororglabout/terms.hml. ISTOR’s Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www jstor.org/jounals/cup html, Each copy of any part of @ JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the sereen or printed page of such transmission. STOR is an independent not-for-profit organization dedicated to creating and preserving a digital archive of scholarly journals. For more information regarding JSTOR, please contact support @jstor.org, bupswww jstor.org/ Wed Fan 12.08:32:45 2005 Int. J. Middle East Stud. 191987), 77-102 Printed in the United States of America Steven C. Caton POWER, PERSUASION, AND LANGUAGE: A CRITIQUE OF THE SEGMENTARY MODEL. IN THE MIDDLE EAST INTRODUCTION A famous definition of power reads: In studying politcal organization, we have to deal with the maintenance or establishment of social order... by the organized exercise of coercive authority through the use, or the possibility of use, of physical force.' In this article 1 will criticize this definition in relation to the study of segmentary societies in the Middle East, by reviewing some of the justly celebrated ethno- graphies of tribal societies in this region. My intention is to demonstrate that force is only one aspect of the total picture in which power must be viewed. More specifically, I will argue that a concept of power as persuasion (and not just physical compulsion) is needed in order to analyze certain ethnographic facts ‘contained in these works. Not only is such a concept warranted for empirical reasons, but, as 1 will argue, various theories in the light of which segmentary systems have been cast would be greatly illuminated by an understanding of the way in which power is exercised through persuasion, Two different theoretical approaches are scrutinized: the functionalist model variously developed by Evans-Pritchard, E. Peters, and Ernest Gellner;’ and a structuralist accounting of the seamentary lineage system, to be found in the recent work of Raymond Jamous on the Berbers of Northern Morocco.’ In addition to the ethnographics on which these theoretical approaches are based, I will also look at some data from Barth’s analysis of South Persian Nomads.* In the last part of the article, ways in which this kind of power can be analyzed will be discussed. Clearly, persuasion entails communication, and my claim is that the form of this speaking is to be grasped, on the one hand, according to the model of dialogue and on the other, according to a model of form illluminated by poetics—in particular the theories of Roman Jakobson’ and Kenneth Burke,” which try to wrestle with the relationships among esthetics, language, and diverse functions of communication. There seems to be an increased awareness in political anthropology that thetoric, or oratory, is a neglected problem of study; witness, for example, the relatively recent appearance of Bloch’s edited volume of articles entitled Political Language and Oratory in Traditional Society.’ Although the author finished this article before he had a chance to read Said S, Samatar’s intriguing book,” it is © 1987 Cambridge University Press 0020-7438/87 $5.00 78 Steven C. Caton clear that this work is founded on the same theoretical principle to be argued at length here: “Speech is the vehicle of politics in so highly a segmented society as the Somalis’, and he who would lead others must persuade rather than coerce.”” What I hope to do in this article is to demonstrate that the theoretical model of the segmentary tribal society must be changed if power as persuasion is to be given its due, and, furthermore, that the Somali case is not isolated in the ethnography of the region but exemplifies a more general phenomenon. In addition, Samatar’s book ably demonstrates the need to understand the instan- tiation of power in verbal discourse, a point that I will develop by looking at other ethnographic cases. | will, though, go beyond Samatar by urging that the analysis of power be placed at the intersection of sociolinguistics (or the ethnography of communication’) and political anthropology. FUNCTIONALIST ANALYSIS: EVANS-PRITCHARD AND ERNEST GELLNER A comprehensive discussion of the contributions each theorist in the literature hhas made to the functionalist model of the segmentary system is not possible here, Discussion in this section will be limited to Evans-Pritchard and Gellner, because their work bears most directly on our concerns with power and persuasion, and reference to Emrys Peters’s work will be made only in passing, though his important criticism of the functionalist model of the segmentary system will be taken up in the section on Jamous. As portrayed by Evans-Pritchard, the Nuer seem to exemplify a society in a Hobbesian State of Nature that has no “person to keep them all in awe” to curb the conflict of individual wills. “When a man feels that he has suffered an injury, there is no authority to whom he can make a complaint and from whom he can obtain redress,”"* because there is no central government, no Hobbesian Autocrat, to formulate decisions and make people comply with them. When an injustice has been committed against an individual, it is seen as a wrong perpetrated against his kinsmen, who seek restitution by vigilante action—that is, by taking matters into their own hands and using force (or threatening to use force). This manner of solving disputes came to be known in the functionalist ‘model as the “principle of self-help.” Clearly, in such a model a person or a group possesses power to the extent that they can mobilize fighting men in defense of their interests (measured in land, cattle, women, water, and so forth). This power qua force is propagated in the feud. The Explanation and Importance of the Feud: Force and Mediation In Evans-Pritchard’s functionalist model, feuding is viewed as an “institution” whose sociological function is to maintain the “balanced opposition” of tribal segments and hence preserve social order. Let us review the basic concepts of the segmentary system to understand this point. Social groups are organized in such a manner that they unite (or “fuse,” according to the functionalist terminology) under certain circumstances, such as the threat of external aggression, to form more inclusive groups (for example, A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 79 sections of a tribe fuse to form a tribe); alternatively, they divide (undergo “fssion”) under different circumstances, such as seasonal migrations, to form a multitude of exclusive groups (sections of a tribe splitting up into subsections). Thus, at the highest level of the system, the Nuer constitute one block in opposition to their traditional enemies the Dinka, another East African people, but on the next lower level and in different contexts are internally differentiated into “primary sections,” and so forth down the hierarchical ladder until the lowest rung of the individual household is reached Paradoxically, the feud is a mechanism for the maintenance of order in an “anarchie” environment. That is, order is understood as solidarity or unity of the ‘group and is achieved mainly in opposition to another group in the system—an opposition expressed through violence, or the feud. In Evans-Pritchard’s ethnog- raphy, the opposition of groups at the highest level of the system—between the Nuer and Dinka—is played out in pitch-battles wherein adult males are often Killed and women and cattle are captured. However, the lower the level of the system on which groups are opposed to each other, the less violent the feud, so that intatribal segments may be hostile to each other but will never go to war ‘When we get to the level of the individual household, payment of compensation and other peaceful means of setling disputes are in evidence. Peters was able to make this correlation between structural groups and violence more precise for the Bedouin of Cyrenaica." How would one explain the fact that at the lower levels of the system the violence by which the feud is propagated becomes less intense? Evans-Pritchard gives two different answers to this question. The first, which appeared in his book The Nuer,"” is based on utilitarian arguments. On the lower levels of the system, groups are more dependent on each other for essential social and economie services (such as cooperation in herding and farming, participation in rituals, and so forth), and therefore cannot afford to disrupt their social relations without imperiling the existence of these services. The second, more interesting explanation appears in an article Evans-Pritchard wrote for the book African Political Systems: Within a tribe there is law: there is machinery for settling disputes and moral obligation to conclude them sooner or later.... Between tribe and tribe there is no means of bringing together the parties to a dispute and compensation is neither offered nor demanded." ‘This passage has a decidedly Durkheimian ring to it, The tribe is defined as a ‘moral community whose members are obligated not only to fight in defense of the group against outside aggression, but also to mediate disputes among themselves. The utilitarian argument gives way to a symbolic/moral one—that is, it is part of the definition of the Nuer tribesman that he mediate disputes peacefully with other Nuer tribesmen. Whichever explanation we choose, the basic point remains the same. There is ‘more to understanding the concept of the feud in the functionalist model than ‘mere force: ‘The balanced opposition between tribal segments and their complementary tendencies towards fission and fusion, which we have seen to be a structural principle, is evident in 80 Steven C. Caton the institution of the feud which, on the one hand, gives expression to the hostility by ‘occasional and violent action that serves to keep the sections apart, and, on the other hhand, by the means provided for setlement, prevents opposition developing into complete ‘fission. The tribal constitution requires both elements of a feud, the need for vengeance ‘and the means for setlement, [italics added)” We are told that a feud is not merely the exercise of force in war, raiding, blood- vengeance, and an old-fashioned fist fight. It is also waged through peaceful means of settling disputes—in other words, mediation. One could alternatively say that the process of mediating disputes is a peaceful way of continuing the feud and thereby avoiding the bloodier consequences of armed conflict. This ‘means that mediation, in effect, can resolve disputes only temporarily; it puts the brakes on conflicts as they threaten to careen wildly out of control, but it cannot ever completely stop them. They may lie dormant for years until an incident suddenly causes them to erupt again. As Peters has remarked with Aeschylean fatality, “The feud knows no beginning, and it has no end." Power, the Mediation Process, and Language ‘Whereas Evans-Pritchard defines power in terms of force, Gellner affirms that his book is about power and belief, defining the former as “the manner in which [society] controls its members.""” Perhaps the vagueness of the definition is intentional, leaving the reader to determine whether the manner in question is force and/or something else. It appears, when one examines the text, that Gellner views power essentially in terms of force, even though his obvious concern with mediation suggests that this definition is insufficient. For example, ‘one way in which the Central High Atlas Berbers resemble the Nuer is in not having powerful chiefs who oversee the various tribal sections and subsections, ‘or so Gellner claims.”” The reasons for their relative impotence must be sought in the way in which the chieftaincy is rotated among the eligible groups and the way in which the chiefs are elected, both processes insuring that no Hobbesian Autocrat will rise from their ranks. Gellner then makes this telling. remark: “Within the rules of the game, he [the chief] cannot aspire to becoming a tyrant, to usurping permanent and real power” (italics added).”! What exactly is meant by “real” power? In the context of the discussion, it can be presumed that Gellner is talking about force, since tyrannical power would be founded on coercion. To the extent, however, that mediation is important in the functionalist model, it stands to reason that any definition referring solely to force is inadequate. Mediation implies “controlling” society's members through persuasion; hence persuasion, and not the exercise of force, becomes the basis of power. This point can be demonstrated by internal analysis of the Nuer and Central Atlas Berber ethnographies. We are told, for instance, that the Nuer “leopard- skin chief” is “concerned with the settlement of blood-feuds, for a feud cannot be settled without his intervention, and his political significance lies in this fact.” His authority is surrounded by a sacred aura, for he is a ritual expert whose powers to curse people can be, and occasionally are, used to sanction A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 81 mediated settlements. (This is a symbolic force, not a physical one, and the distinction is crucial for the argument.) However, he is not an incipient autocrat. ‘Apart from his peculiar ritual status, he is thought to be an effective mediator because he stands outside the system of structural relations encompassing the disputants and therefore can be trusted ‘The Nuer adamantly resist coercive authority and it is not surprising to find that the leopard-skin chief lacks any “real” power in the sense that the function- alist model entails: He has no means of compelling people to pay or to accept blood-cattle. He has no powerful kinsmen or the backing of a populous community to support him. He is simply ‘a mediator in a specific social situation and his mediation is only successful because community ties are acknowledged by both parties and because they wish to avoid, for the time being at any rate, further hostilities... It is true that a leopard-skin chief has always in these circumstances to persuade, by exhortations and threats, the kinsmen of the dead man to accept compensation, but this pressure must not be regarded as a command. It is quite clear from many Nuer statements on the matter that the chief's threats are encouraged to their furthest point in order that by yielding to his persuasion. the kinsmen of the dead man may not dishonour themselves to exact a life for the life of ‘their kinsman, [taies added)” Persuasion is the key term in the above passage. The leopard-skin chief has power insofar as he can persuade the disputants to resolve their differences peacefully and to agree to his judgment. Just as the Nuer mediators, in the guise of the leopard-skin chiefs, are sacred personages, so are the mediators of Berber disputes in the Central High Atlas— the descendants of a famous saint whose blessing (baraka) is passed down to them and is potent in curing sickness, providing mystical insight into religious knowledge, and helping to mediate between rebellious tribesmen who fear the power of their curse. These igurramen in the Atlas build their lodges around the sacred shrine of the saint, which in turn is located, not surprisingly, on tribal boundaries, a space that is liminal, ambiguous, dangerous, and always fraught with potential turmoil since tribal boundaries are frequently the subject of acrimonious disputes. The igurramen are ideologically pledged to a peaceful existence, s0 their occupation of the boundary space is charged with symbolic significance. Upon entering their sacred precinct, the tribes must fight their battles with the word, not the gun. The function of the saints—or rather of their descendants, according to Gellner—is to maintain some semblance of order in what he describes as an anarchic environment of “feud-addicted” tribes. Specifically, they act as mediators in the negotiations among Berber tribesmen for the election of a new chief. In line with their ideological image as peacemakers, they may not threaten force to compel tribesmen to accept the choice of the tribal council. Only in the last resort may they, like the Nuer leopard-skin chief, pronounce a curse on recalcitrant tribesmen (which again is symbolic force). Otherwise, they rely on the power of persuasion: 82 Steven C. Caton In these negotiations, mediation, persuasion and pressure by the saints plays an essential role (as it does in the setling of inter-group disputes and in legal cases)... Thus the necessity ofthe jgurramen is manifest: itis they who, as benevolent hosts and outsiders to the fissions of the tribe, smooth over the election and persuade reluctant electors to accept the emergent trend, [italics added] But is this a type of power that the segmentary model, as Gellner defines it, would recognize as such? Certainly not, if power is understood as the actual or threatened use of force, for persuasion operates in lieu of foree. To understand thoroughly the mediation process and the exercise of power in it through persuasion, we must carry out a symbolic analysis of action: what is said in the discourse between disputants on the one hand, and the disputants and mediators on the other? By what kinds of metaphors, images, and value-laden terms, as well as nonverbal signs, do speakers hope to be persuasive for their audiences? Because we rarely hear persons speak in the ethnographies, we can therefore only give partial answers to these questions. ‘The reason that Evans-Pritchard never inscribed the “said” of discourse is that he never actually observed a dispute mediation carried out by the leopard-skin chief. His descriptions are all garnered from informant testimony: | was told that a man who has a cow stolen may ask a leopard-skin chief to go with him to request the return of the cow... The owner of the animal gives his view and the man who has stolen it attempts justify his action. Then the chief, and anybody else who wishes to do S0, expresses an opinion on the question, When everyone has had his say the chief and elders withdraw to diseuss the matter among themselves and to agree upon the decision... It was clear from the way in which my informants deseribed the whole procedure that the chief gave his final decision as an opinion couched in persuasive language and not as a judgment delivered with authority. Moreover, whilst the sacredness of the chief and the influence of the elders carry weight, the verdict is only accepted because both patties agree to it, No discussion ean be held unless both parties want the dispute settled and are prepared to compromise and submit to arbitration. ...Ifthere is any doubt about the facts, certain oaths, which are in the nature of ordeals, may be ‘employed, such as swearing statements on the chiefs leopard skin. For a dispute to be setled in this way not only is it necessary that both parties should want the matter amicably settled, but itis also necessary that they should themselves reach agreement during the decision, and indeed, a decision cannot be reached unless there is unanimity, since the elders are of both parties to the dispute. They go on talking, therefore till every one has had his say and a consensus is reached. [italics added] | cite this passage at such length because it underscores several important points. First of all, it reiterates that the leopard-skin chief cannot command disputants to accept a judgment—he may only persuade them. It is unfortunate that when Evans-Pritchard was told that the chief's final decision was “couched in per- suasive language,” he was unable to elicit the discourse. ‘The above passage also reveals a pattern or set of procedures followed by the participants in the mediation that we will find recurring in descriptions of similar processes from other tribal societies. Thus, not only does each opponent have a chance to air his grievances and justifications, but even members of the audience and distinguished clders may express their views on the case. As a result of this canvassing of opinions across the community, a consensus is reached, which the A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East $3 leopard-skin chief must have the insight to grasp in the discussions. But this consensus is not handed down to the disputants on engraved tablets of stone— they may reject it, unless the chief can persuade them to do otherwise. In other words, the mediators bend over backwards to respect the political autonomy of the actors, who always have the right to back out of the agreements if they feel their honor is being compromised. Although Gellner does give us a detailed and quite interesting analysis of the collective oath, he does not tell us much about the verbal ways in which igurramen are persuasive, While saints may be asked to intercede in a number of different tribal matters, one of their most'important tasks is to oversee the election of tribal chiefs “The discussions and negotiations constituting the election or its preliminaries may of course have gone on for days: the clections take place during the period when the tribe, or other larg representative part oft assembles a the zawya, the village of the igurramen, sometimes for as fong as eight days Thus the necessity for igurramen is manifest: itis they who, as benevolent hosts and outsiders to the fisions of the tebe, smooth over the election and persuade reluctant electors to acept the emergent trend * ‘They are also often called in to help arbitrate disputes: ‘The igurramen are there as the court of appeal when the settlement fails at the level of the chief... Moreover, if it comes to trial by collective oath, all important matters, those requiring ten or more co-jurors, automatically go up to be sworn at the shrine of the igurramen, While the saints’ intent is to ascertain the “emergent trend” in the negotiations leading up to the election of the chief, or to hear all parties in the dispute in order to grasp the general opinion on the case, they, like the Nuer leopard-skin chief, must work through a consensus, to be reached only through lengthy bouts of discussion. It is also clear that once a consensus is expressed, the saints “cannot enforce their verdicts, but depend on the acceptance of that verdict by the tribesmen." It would be nice to know how they persuade the tribesmen to accept the decision. In summary, we have seen how the concept of power as force, oF the threatened use of force, is intrinsic to the functionalist’s model of the segmentary system. Specifically, this power is tied to the principle of “self-help” in a system where there is no ruler or governmental agency to keep the conflict of individual wills in check, and in which a person has no recourse for reclaiming his rights except through the feud, In my analysis of the feud, I have emphasized that functionalists such as Evans-Pritchard and Gellner view the exercise of force and the practice of mediation as being interconnected, indissociable processes. Furthermore, it was noted that the Nuer notion of the tribe is understood as @ moral community obligated to mediate its internal differences and to fight to preserve its corporate interests when these are threatened. Both the concept of the feud and that of the tribe, then, require that the model focus on mediation as an important political process. Having brought out the significance of mediation, I then argued that one needs another concept of power in the functionalist 84° Steven C. Caton model—namely, the power of persuasion. In the textual analysis of Nuer and Berber mediation processes we saw how the leopard-skin chief and the saintly igurramen may not command the disputants to accept the decision arrived at by consensus, but must persuade them, Unfortunately, what precisely is said and done by the mediators in accomplishing this task is quite obscure in both ethnographies. Without such data we will never understand how power is exercised over men in dispute mediations. It is well known that Frederik Barth” challenged the theory of segmentary lineage systems in his celebrated studies of political organization among the Swat Pathans of West Pakistan.” He has been taken to task for his analysis by several writers,” but it is not my intention here to review his arguments, the criticisms raised against them, or his subsequent defense." 1 have chosen instead to concentrate on a less famous, though equally important, example of Barthian analysis—that is, his study of the Basseri Nomads of South Persia, What is the Basis of the Headman’s Power in the Basseri Herding Camp? ‘The Basseri camp has at least one headman or leader. In his analysis of camp politics, Barth asks the fundamental question: What is the source of the camp leader's power? For the sake of brevity, let me summarize Barth’s answer to this question. The headman is unlikely to obtain much support from a “central” authority such as the Basseri tribal chief.”” Wealth and military coercion’ are not considered by Barth to be instrumental to the headman’s power, which leaves Barth, by a process of elimination, with kinship, and, specifically, with affinal tes." Let us, therefore, focus on this aspect of his argument. ‘There are reasons to doubt that patrilineal kinship is an effective means by which a headman can spread his authority over camp followers. For one thing, “the genealogical knowledge that is necessary to make such an extension effective is poorly developed,”” and for another, it turns out that in spite of the “ideal” of solidarity that is projected on patrikin, lineal cohesion is greater than lateral ties.” Other than mentioning the fact that bonds of solidarity exist between men who are “matrikin” (e.g., MBr and SiSo), Barth does not analyze the significance of such relations for the headman’s power, so there is little we can do to evaluate its importance. But he is far less equivocal when he turns to affinal relations, which he claims “appear to be most effective in establishing political bonds between tents."” Barth analyzes the system of relationships in one herding camp to support his argument that affinal ties are crucial to a camp leader's power, yet the evidence is ambiguous, to say the least. Figure | shows a modified chart of some herding units belonging to a camp in question, taken from Barth's Figure 10." The test of affinal relationships came in a critical situation, a falling-out among camp members over pasturage. The cleavages are predictable according A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 85 4 2 10 cts Tt op 8. 4 5 | iGURE 1. A Basseri camp. Key individuals vying (5) (10) hae lied hirsei wo (2) group by afinal anal relations ower are (I), who isthe headman; (10; and fons. The headman has allied himself to (3) by to Barth's hypothesis; that is, (2) and his sons supported (10), whereas (3) supported (I). Now let us consider the opposition of (5) to (1)'s leadership, for inthis ease the importance of alfinal ties in group alliances seems less clear-cut, Herding unit (5) is related to (9) through two alfinal ties: the wife of (5) is one of (9)'s cousins and (5)'s daughter is betrothed to (9)'s brother. One would predict that (5) and (9) would be allies in a dispute with (1) over leadership, according to Barth's hypothesis, but is this in fact what happened? ‘At some point (5) challenged the headman’s leadership by defecting from the camp, hoping to take with him (9)'s group. Instead, “when No. $ defected from the tribe to spend the summer in the Arab sarhad near Fassa, he failed in spite of all his efforts to carry others from the camp with him, and had to separate his flock from the larger herd of his herding unit and leave by himself."*" ‘The evidence then is ambiguous. Affinal relations may to some extent be important in acquiring a camp following but they cannot be determinant. Is it possible, then, that there is an additional source for a headman’s power— namely, what we have been calling persuasion? To attempt an answer to this question we must carefully examine the decision-making process in the Basseri herding camp. Persuasion and the Power of the Camp Headman Barth has a tendency to view the decision-making process as being divisive: Every day the members of the camp must agree in their decision on the vital question of Whether to move on, or to stay camped, and if they move, by which route and how far they should move. These decisions are the very stuff of a pastoral nomad existence; they spell the difference between growth and prosperity of the herds, or loss and poverty." A curious paradox exists in Barth's view of this decision-making process. On the ‘one hand, he perceives the herders’ participation as an expression and continua- tion of their sense of common “groupness”: “a camp community of nomads can only persist through continuous reaffirmation by all its members.”*” On the other 86 Steven C. Caton hhand, a process that is supposedly so essential to the group's survival “every day retests the cohesion of the group."*' Why does Barth view the decision-making process in divisive terms? Although Barth does not explicitly say so, primarily because he seems to be defining power strictly as the use or threatened use of force, it seems clear that the headman relies on the power of persuasion to achieve a unanimous agreement in this process. That Barth has at least an implicit understanding of this point can be demonstrated by several quotations from the text ‘The camp leader is dependent on his ability to influence camp members, to guide and formulate public opinion inthe group. ‘The camp leader depends on influence for his position of leadership, and to prevent the fragmentation of his eamp he is continually concerned to achieve unanimity, without To analyze persuasion one must examine a society's political rhetorie—that is, the use of verbal and nonverbal signs by leaders, their opponents, and audiences in public events of communication, It behooves us, then, to take a long and close look at the decision-making process in camp assemblies. When Barth tries his hand at analyzing the verbal agon of these camp discussions, he appears to be at a loss to understand it. It is worth quoting his description in full: ‘Though most speakers seck to reveal the trend of their preference, they always retain counter-arguments in their statements. The opinions of other persons seem to be evaluated by their differential response to the frst speaker's various arguments implying the different alternatives, and not necessarily by the conclusion implied by the balance of “opinions expressed by them. In such fashion no person ends up having clearly committed himself to what may tura out to be a minority opinion; his own statements have consistently contained arguments both for and against, and their relative weight has never been fully revealed, Lack of agreement is revealed by continued conversation around the subject, never flat contradiction, And the “arguments” presented in such conversations need not be factors of real relevance to the decision, but are often just convenient ways in ‘which one or another decision may be implied, Not only does the frustrated anthropologist remain in the dark whether he will have to pack his stu and move on next morning; he cannot even learn about herding and nomadic life from these hour-long discussions, when points which are bandied about and emphasized by all urn out to be without substantive relevance to the problem. A gross example is the frequent argument heard in sueh discussions that there is no water available ahead, and so itis difficult to move on next ‘morning. My naive questions the fist time I heard this, of how this might improve during the next few days, or else how we would {sic} ever be able to proceed, were dismissed by all as irelevant and itrtated rather than embarrassed the speakers." Barth’s interpretation of the agon is essentially utilitarian: itis meant to lead to a decision, one that after all, we are told, is vital to the survival of the herd and thus to the camp's well-being, Yet the means by which the decision is reached, if itis reached, are decidedly irrational and therefore, the argument continues, they must serve additional, though noninstrumental purposes. These aims are cast in a negative light. For example, if speakers never simply present their own opinion A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 87 oor directly argue against or contradict another speaker's view of the problem, but always try to incorporate the plethora of proposals in their public statements, then Barth gives these ways of speaking a negative interpretation—that is, as strategies for saving face: “In such fashion no person ends up having clearly committed himself to what may turn out to be a minority opinion.” This attitude explains his setting arguments within quotation marks in the above passage, for the debate does not proceed in an orderly manner whereby the issues are clearly outlined, the solutions criticized and evaluated, and a final decision reached. It is, revealing that the one time Barth attempted to join the discussion, interjecting the cold, clear light of European rationalism into what seemed to be confused proceedings, he was peremptorily told that his point was irrelevant. Clearly, his Basseri companions were right, because he tended to view the discussion essentially in utilitarian terms. There are other, more symbolic interpretations of this important communi- cative event. Take, for example, the conversational form of Basseri debate: “Though most speakers seek to reveal the trend of their preference, they always. retain counter-arguments in their statements." By referring to other arguments made in the debate, the speaker could be alluding to and respecting the autonomy of the other actors. By mentioning his opinion in the same breath that he repeats the arguments made by others, he may be symbolically asserting that all individuals are equal, that no one’s opinion counts more than that of another. It would appear that the purpose of these hour-long discussions is not only or necessarily one of arriving at a decision instrumentally important to the group's survival, but also it is a symbolic expression of personal autonomy, wherein each person attending the tribal meeting has the opportunity to voice his own opinion. There is not enough careful description of this communicative event in Barth’s ethnography to ascertain the headman’s participation in it, but presumably he ‘must at least outwardly respect the right of everyone to voice his opinion, while all the time steering the discussion toward a group consensus. It is, after all, by consensus that the headman rules. This still places him squarely within the arena of political rhetoric, and one would expect that oratory would be one of the important skills that a camp leader cultivates. Barth does not seem to understand this point; he certainly does not consider it in his analysis of the headman’s power. Because he views the camp discussions with a jaundiced eye, he cannot begin to consider the possibility that the power of the headman may be instantiated in them through persuasive forms of speaking, and instead looks when all else fails—at the kinship system for the source of his power. We have already seen, however, that this analysis is not very convincing in that the cases he cites are open to ambiguous interpretation. We might well ask, then, why a new approach to understanding power as persuasion in the symbolic form of rhetoric is not attempted, ‘As another example of an analysis of leadership that purports to be influenced by a Barthian perspective of man maximizing his “assets and options,” let us briefly turn to William Lancaster's wonderfully rich ethnography, The Rwala Bedouin Today. 88 Steven C. Caton As Lancaster makes abundantly clear in his analyses of child socialization, economic choices, social organization, and domestic relations, a fundamental value of Rwala social action is autonomy: ‘This emphasis on autonomy starts at an extraordinarily early age; no baby is put to the breast until it yells; a one-year old is expected to feed itself from the communal dish and ‘no one will bother to see that it gets enough—itis up to the child itself.” The issue of individualism in Bedu society is frequently misunderstood, ... but that individualism is rel is fundamental to the Rwala version of the segmentary system.” Camels have the great advantage that itis possible to subsist on them for long periods of time with little oF no reference to any outside body,” Each autonomous individual is entitled to his/her opinion but modifies it for the good of the group. If they won', they ean always leave.” Given the importance of this value to an understanding of the cultural system, ‘one would expect it to be crucial also in the analysis of politics. And to his credit, Lancaster fully realizes that such an analysis logically entails an examin- ation of the sheikh’s power to influence others: In a system where every man is equally fre to follow his own bent and where there is no mechanism for coercion, the only political power available isthe ability to influence the decision of others.” [AC its crudest the sheikh has no authority to treat on the tribe's behalf, for there is no legal framework nor coercive force available to him. All the sheikh ean do is represent the tribe and bank on knowing what the tribe want in any particular circumstance, He then thas to persuade the tribe 10 accept the results of his negotiation. (ualies added)" Whereas Lancaster is insightful enough to realize that the sheikh’s power cannot ultimately reside in his wealth or his use of coercive force but must be explained by his persuasiveness, he does not make the crucial analytical connec- tion between this persuasiveness and rhetorical events of communication. No transcripts of actual dialogue are given, no examples of a sheikh’s eloquence are heard. At best, we are given (on p. 88 of his ethnography) a description of the way in which a sheikh mediated the discussion of a party of smugglers on what to do about guards on the Jordanian border. In order to assure personal autonomy, each member of the sheikh’s party, including even the anthropologist, ‘was allowed to speak and voice his opinion, regardless of experience or vested interest. The sheikh then forged a consensus and persuaded his audience to accept it. What have we here except another instance of a verbal rhetorical [process so essential to the segmentary societies in the Middle East?” JAMOUS'S STRUCTURALIST ANALYSIS OF NORTH MOROCCAN BERBERS. At this juncture in my overview of the segmentary lineage model I will consider Peters’s® criticisms of it, Why it is more appropriate to bring up his work in discussing Jamous’s analysis than in discussing the theories of Evans- Pritchard and Gellner will become clear shortly. A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 89 The gist of Peters’s criticism seems to be that the functionalist model is, in actuality, a native “folk theory” of social action rather than a scientific, socio- logical one, It has been pointed out that the merit of Peters's criticism lies in distinguishing between the two types, whereas previous work tended to merge the two into one undifferentiated whole.” The point is certainly well taken, though it begs a fundamental question that Jamous addresses—namely, what does the analyst do with the native model? We cannot see that Peters does very much with it at all, for his scheme leaves us with a set of “objective” material components such as land, food resources, water, etc., and a (Western) assumption that comes very close to Barth's own of the native “maximizing” his assets by manipulating, among other things, the native ideology. Unfortunately, there is not enough space here to give a close reading of Peters’s texts, but they reveal, in my opinion, a closer relationship with a Barthian model than either may wish to acknowledge or than other theoreticians, to my knowledge, have heretofore suspected of being the case. My position in this article is that the indigenous model should be given far more emphasis in explaining social action than Peters is apparently willing to ‘grant it. That is to say, when one examines the ethnographic record to determine ‘what it is that Middle Eastern tribesmen are doing in political acts, one finds that they are talking to each other probably more than they are fighting, and that this has to be explained by a native model of the person as an autonomous actor in aan egalitarian society, with the consequent or attendant belief that the basis of power is persuasion rather than the exercise of force. However, in an important sense, Peters’s criticism of the segmentary lineage system has cleared the way for an anthropologist such as Jamous to, in fact, reanalyze the system as an explicitly native or ideological model of social organization. I say “reanalyze” because Jamous has had to lay bare the totality and internal structuring of that ideology, which was obscure in the functionalist work of ethnographers in the Moroccan context. Similarly, and antedating Jamous, Michael Meeker has also analyzed the lineage system as a cultural ‘model in terms of which he argues that social actions (such as the feud, marriage, and so forth) are structured. In other words, Peters's criticism represents an important moment in the emergence of a developing “cultural” interpretation of the segmentary lineage system, and this article is intended as a contribution to that developing model insofar as it treats of ideological constructs (autonomy and egalitarianism) and political action (persuasion), which have been neglected by Jamous, Meeker, and others. No less important for understanding the twists and turns in the development of a “cultural” model of the segmentary lineage system is the critique of functionalism, particularly of Gellner's variety,” that has developed in Moroccan ethnography. On one level, this critique has argued that Gellner’s notion of social organization is too narrowly concerned with the corporate group, when the ethnographic facts suggest that a notion of person-centered networks of political alliances may be more germane to Morocco and perhaps to other Middle Eastern settings as well. In all fairness to Gellner, this ethnography is, bbased on urban rather than tribal societies; nevertheless, the suggestion might be 90 Steven C. Caton put forward that even tribal societies are not so neatly analyzed in terms of ‘group categories. At least the question should be posed. To avoid misunder- standing one has to bear in mind that this argument of person-centered social organization goes hand in hand with a cultural interpretation of reality. Failure to understand this point might lead one to conclude that there is little difference between Barth and, say, Geertz in the way they conceive of individuals as being at the hub of social relations. Barth imports a Western notion of the individual into his analysis of Swat society,” whereas Geertz, as well as Eickelman and Rosen, insist that this is a Moroccan category that must be fleshed out by local systems of meaning." In Moroccan Islam, especially Chapter 5, “Impermanence and Inequality: The Common-Sense Understanding of the Social Order,” Eickelman explicitly attempts to grasp the reality assumptions on the basis of which Moroccans construct relations with cach other, an interpretive account that has since been further developed by others.”” Therefore, what we find in Jamous’s work ia structuralist model that owes a great deal not only to Peters's criticisms but also to those of various cultural anthropologists concerned with systems of symbols and their meanings in Moroccan society. To help us keep our bearings in the discussion of Jamous's analysis, let me repeat a quotation of L. Dumont that is cited in the introduction, La théorie politique persiste & sidentfer avee une théorie du «pouvoiry, cest-i-dire & prendre un probléme mineur pour le probléme fondamental, lequel se trouve dans la relation entre le wpouvoirn et les valeurs ou Vidéologie.” For Jamous one of the key problems of the analysis is to illuminate the relationship of power as exhibited in the careers of the amghar, or “big men,” to the value of honor in Berber society. He thus rests his analysis of action on symbolic values rather than on functionalist, utilitarian self-interest. What 1 will suggest is that this relationship implies perhaps a more subtle understanding of power than mere force—namely, persuasion. In other words, I will show how the theoretical approach Jamous takes from Louis Dumont leads us to new avenues of inquiry beyond what Jamous has foreseen. The Concept of Honor Honor (rird in Berber) is rather vaguely defined as “cette vertu, cette «forcen, cette qualité, cette valeur attachée & un groupe ou a un individu particulier. I est lune «substance» que Pon ne peut saisir en elle-méme, mais seulement appréhender par ses signes extérieurs."* Jamous claims that these signs are to be found on two levels possession and control over certain social domains on the one hand, and participation in exchanges of violence on the other. ‘An honorable person among the Berber Iqar°iyen is one who, for example, possesses land that, if he is to retain his honor, he must resolutely defend against any encroachment by enemies. The segmentary system, therefore, is understood in relation to the honor that is attached to the possession and protection of land: a tribe identifies its honor by ownership and defense of a territory against the encroachment of other tribes; a section of a tribe is endowed with honor insofar A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 91 as it jealously guards against the possible takeover by rival sections; and so forth, down to the patriineage and the individual household, each with its identification with plots of land. Thus, itis not simple economic self-interest that motivates the Berber tribesman to guard his territory; what he is protecting is above all its symbolic value. Another domain that the Berber protects and controls is the woman and the household. A man's honor depends on the sexual propriety of the woman’s conduct, which, for various reasons, she is not thought capable of managing herself. Hence, there is expressed the need for external controls imposed on her to avoid a scandal, controls that protect a symbolic value—a man’s honor. Apart from control over certain social domains, honor is also signified by what Jamous calls “exchanges of violence.” We are not talking here of “brute force” necessarily, but of symbolically interpreted aggression manifested in murder, oratorical bouts, and ostentatious displays of expenditure (which will not be considered in this discussion). Murder is more than brute force. Jamous reveals that there is a definite symbolic intention behind the act. It has the effect, of Killing its vietim, to be sure, but, as we shall see, if it is not ritualized, choreographed violence carried out in precisely the right manner, it will entirely miss its symbolic target. Oratorical bouts and lavish displays of hospitality (among other acts of conspicuous consumption) are “violent” in the sense that they are intended as a challenge of the honor of the recipient. Jamous considers the exchange of murder between groups in competition for honor as the most interesting type of symbolic behavior. He docs not simply accept the idea of murder (what would have been “feud” in the functionalist model) as the exercise of force, but shows how subtly its modalities signify various cultural meanings. A Berber man of honor bent on vengeance, for example, must show patience, discipline, and stealth by ambushing his vietim when the vietim least suspects foul play and then hitting his target squarely between the eyes as evidence of marksmanship, Having carried out the deed, he ‘must signal it as an act of counter-defiance (as opposed to sheer murder) by rising from his cover for witnesses to see and then brandishing his rifle in the air. Jamous points out the metaphorical equivalence between the act of physical violence in this case and the ways of the hunt. Both entail the idea of a trap or snare into which the victim stumbles or is lured, and the hunter must be clever in the way he makes himself invisible to his victim by blending with the environ- ‘ment. But what crucially separates the two acts is the witnessed gesture of raising the rifle in the air, for this distinguishes an act of sheer killing from one in which. ‘a man’s honor is engaged, The same point about interpreting violence symbolically can be made with regard to the engagement of entire groups in “mock combat.” Raids were conducted reciprocally between sections of a tribe and often led to loss of life and destruction of property. Unfortunately, Jamous does not mention whether there existed certain prescribed modalities of raiding that were heavily invested with honor, as in the case, for example, with Arabian Bedouins reported by Burckhardt.’ This becomes more apparent in his analysis of what he calls “mock combat.” Two groups that have been feuding with each other try to avoid a zeneral massacre by calling on their allies in the leff" system for support: 92 Steven C. Caton La bataille a lieu dans un espace ouvert, les groupes prenant position Tun en face de autre, mais & distance, Elle commence par des joutes oratoires. Chaque groupe vante ses propres mérites et insulte son adversaire.” To be sure, who precisely does the vaunting and insulting is not unimportant. We discover that it is only the younger men of the tribe who engage in these oratorical bouts, and to understand the significance of this fact we must delve into Berber conceptions of how honorable men “should speak” in public. ‘There are basically two diametrically opposed kinds of speakers, only one of, whom exemplifies the man of honor. The person who is loud, speaks brashly before thinking, is boastful, and tries to dominate conversations may be brave but is not esteemed: He is considered immature, ignorant, and irresponsible. In contrast with him is the man of honor, who doit se contrbler et peser chaque mot qu'il prononce. Il sat ee qui se dit et la fagon dont il faut le dire, et aussi ce qui ne se dit pas. Son discours est précis, concis et prononcé avec calme et mesure, Plus encore, il lui faut connaitre parfaitement la langue et se singulariser én uilisant les mots et ls phrases qui ont du poids, du shag. Cette maitise de la parole suppose un long apprentissage. Lthomme d'honneur écoute ses, ainés, éudie leur com- portement, sinstrut longuement avant de pouvoir tenir son rang.” The young participants in the oratorical bouts do not exhibit in their speaking the “control” and “even” tone required of a man of honor, and for this reason their speaking is deemed a parody of the serious rhetorical contests in which the real men of honor engage. In what context, then, do the men of honor engage in the verbal agon? Lors des assemblées de patrilignage ou de 1a communauté, des hommes d'honneur peuvent s'engager dans des compétitions de cette nature. Chacun exercera son talent ‘montrer le plus dhumilité et & vanter autre, Dans ee cadre, il faut savoir tourner ses phrases, utiliser avec soin les mots sens multiples, riches de signification. Limprovisation imagée, le sens du rhythme, de la formule poétique et Iyrique, sont trés appreciés. Dans ces échanges, qui peuvent durer des heures et sont parfois suvis par une foule passionnée, deux hommes peuvent ainsi se mesurer. Celui qui saura le mieux jouer la modestie en utilisant avee art les finesses de la langue berbére acquerra du prestige, un renom auprés des Iqr’iyen, Mais, par la méme, il sera jalousé, et il ui faudra subir les défis des autres.” From this passage it is clear that the councils mentioned by Montagne” but never described in detail represent a crucial stage of social action for the public exhibition of the man of honor. And it is no less clear that verbal means are employed in this agon—the bon mot and not the bullet. Unfortunately, as in the case of the oratorieal bouts between the leff mentioned above, there are no sample texts given by Jamous of these assembly sessions, so we are not able to follow up his lead by a more careful sociolinguistic analysis. But while itis clear that the assemblies are viewed by Jamous as arenas in which honor is signified, itis not the case that he views them as an organ of any power: “Il nous parait exagéré de prétendre, comme ont fait certains auteurs, que ces assemblées soient un organe legislatif analogue & ceux de la Gréce antique ou de Rome."”" There is thus a hesitancy on his part to entertain the possibility that besides the obsession with gaining public recognition of one’s A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle Fast 93 honor, what may be behind these rhetorical contests is the winning of power by persuasion, I will return to this point after the discussion of Jamous's analysis of honor and the segmentary system has been completed. The Rise of the Amghar: Is Power Based Only on Force? Being @ man of honor, the amghar would be expected also to participate in what Jamous has previously called “exchanges of violence”—that is, physical attacks on other amghar, ostentatious displays of hospitality, and certain ‘modalities of speech. The last is the most interesting from my point of view: Un «grand» est un orateur. It doit non seulement connaitre tous les raffinements de la langue berbére, mais savoir comment les utiliser... devant Tassemblée du lignage ou devant celle de la communauté territorial; il pourra ainsi obtenir des résultats et non des fateres.”= But we might well ask: How does he obtain results? 1 convogue l'assemblée et cherche & provoquer un consensus sur la décision & prendre. Tout son art est d'apparaitre comme le porte-parole du patrilignage. On dit que Fautorité du wgrando vient de ce quion lui a délégué et reconnu le droit de représenter le groupe. Cest le consensus, non la coerction, qui lui permet d’eccuper cete position.” In this passage Jamous comes very close to asserting what I have been arguing all along—that the leader in tribal society is a man who must know how to persuade an audience by rhetorical means as opposed to coercing them by the use or the threat of force. And yet, Jamous holds back from this conclusion. In fact, without directly saying so, he seems to consider this power of persuasion a mere mystification when he asserts in the very next sentence: En fait, nous le verrons, le pouvoir est loin tre négligeable chez les Igar’iyen. Le grand» détient un pouvoir coercitif rel. Mais tout doit se passer comme si les agnats Iui remettaient, pour un acte volontaire et de plain gré, le droit de les guider, de les ‘gouverner, ‘Are we to assume here that power defined as force is somehow “real” whereas the cultural interpretation of power as persuasion is somehow “unreal,” being merely a masking of reality? If this is what Jamous is asserting, then we might well remind ourselves of Dumont’s salutory dictum: It is not the understanding of power as force that is the fundamental problem of our analysis, but rather the relationship of that power to symbolic values and concepts. In other words, if a cultural ideology constrains the ambitious man from exercising power as force, it stands to reason that power must be understood in this kind of society as inhering in something else and I would suggest that this something else is the act of persuasion exercised by the more subtle means of rhetoric. My argument now continues. We have explored the meaning of honor in Igar’iyen society and have shown how the amghar, in order to be the quintessence of the man of honor, must control land and women and must participate in exchanges of violence, including oratorical contests, Throughout his argument Jamous is careful to note the relationship of certain “facts” (such as murder, 94 Steven C. Caton marriage, and land) to social values, but we have noted that he stumbles in his analysis of power, for here force is somehow more “real” than persuasion, even though, as we shall see, egalitarian concepts and values of Iqar’iyen society would suggest that persuasion is dominant over force. To bring home my point, let us now turn to the final part of Jamous’s discussion of honor and the segmentary system, found in his Chapter 9 In this theoretical chapter Jamous explicitly opposes his view of the segmentary system to that of the functionalists, especially Ernest Gellner. We have seen that the institutional form of the feud was explained by its “function” in keeping groups in opposition, the principle of “balanced opposition” being the sole means by which order is maintained in an anarchical environment. For Jamous the explanation of the feud is in its being a form of social exchange: La violence institutionnalise [feud] n'est pas seulement un moyen pour les groupes solidaires de défendre leur patrimoine en sanctionnant leurs agresseurs, elle est aussi et surtout le iew de Féchange social sans lequel il n'y a pas de sezmentarté. C'est bien ainsi ue le comprennent les Igar°iyen quand ils afirment que chaque groupe segmentaire ne peut se contenter de gérer et de défendre son patrimoine commun, son domaine de Finterdit, mais quil doit aussi affronter les autres groupes dans V'aréne publique par les changes de violence. ... C'est au niveau idéologique qu'il faut la comprendre, ces dire comme un ensemble de teprésentations et de valeurs qui ordonnent et orientent Vaction des membres d'une société. Il en est bien ainsi cher les Igarviyen, ou la segmentarté est une manifestation de Thonneur.”” In other words, if one begins the explanation at the level of ideology where the concept and value of honor hold sway, then one can easily account for the fact that the two aspects of the defense of and aggression against social domains of honor are logically entailed, for, as we have seen, honor impels men into both actions. But there are other relations that define the universe of men besides those of honor and violence, and itis here that we come to the problem of understanding. equality (or what I have been calling autonomy’) Par ailleurs, cette réplesegmentaire est normative, car elle défnit un univers de relations en terms d’égalité. Ine s'agit pas, comme dans nos sociétés moderes, d'une idéologie universaliste pronant Mégalté de nature et de principe des individus. Dans la socigté seamentaice, les individus ne peuvent pas revendiguer un droit absoly, mais une idemtite relative en fonction des positions verticals qu'ils occupent dans les differents groupes segmentares. De plus, 'égalité snserit dans une structure particulire qui minBare pas tous les membres de la société: chez les tqariven les groupes religieux, les famille de protégé, ls jus et les musiciens sont exclis du jeu segmentair.”” ‘The problem is that the ambitious struggle for power of the Berber “big men” leads to a hierarchical ordering that contradicts the ideology of egalitarianism, and the question that Jamous poses is: How does one deal theoretically with such a contradiction? Let us recall that according to Jamous, “real” power in this society is to be analyzed as “force,” which is exemplified by the amghar in his struggle to realize his ambitions, There is, of course, no denying that such power exists in the system; the question is whether it is the only kind of power that exists and, if A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 95 not, what the relative importance of the two kinds of power may be. We saw in Jamous’s description of the patrilineage and community assemblies that the amghar must give public recognition to the segmentary ideology of egalitarianism; that is to say, he must rule as if by consensus. We have seen that in the context of his discussion Jamous seems to imply that this is only a pretense, a mystii- cation of “real” power as force and that the amghar, along with his followers who collude with him in this histrionie business of self-deception, tries to appear essentially powerless. But it stands to reason that in Jamous's model, force would have to be dominated by a concept of power as persuasion and not the other way around, In other words, it can be concluded that there is not only a notion of power (persuasion) in this type of society distinct from that of force, but that it must also be, according to the logic of “segmentary equality in effect (englobing) authority,” ideologically dominant Germane to this point is the Aith Waryaghar's concept of democracy: “The egalitarianism of individuals and of segments or groups acts as the effective check on the power aspirations of one and all.” In his rich and quite detailed analysis of the political organization of this Moroccan tribe, Hart makes clear that this egalitarianism in part explains why the powers of the Berber chiefs are held severely in check by the councils,” and that furthermore, there is a ‘murderous competition between individuals, which Jamous ascribes to the value of honor alone. In other words, not only honor must be examined in the cultural system, but also autonomy (or egalitarianism; the terms, though not synonymous, are close enough in meaning for the purposes of the argument), and there are facts Jamous is concerned with that can be explained as easily in terms of one concept as the other. Once we realize and accept that power as persuasion is just as real as power understood in terms of force, we are in a position to reconsider some of Jamous's analysis of speaking and its importance to the man of honor. According to Jamous, the reason that Berber men of honor cultivate a deep understanding of their language and a rapier-like facility in its use is in order to engage in social exchanges of honor. There is no denying that this view of speaking is to some extent correct and important, but I would deny that we have necessarily come to the bottom of the matter by resting it on the notion of honor alone. If the dominant ideology is egalitarianism, then it follows that a Berber leader would ty to use speech in tribal assemblies in order to persuade autonomous individuals, and this usage is properly understood as political rhetoric. This view of speaking helps to explain why, for instance, the man of honor speaks humbly, respecting the dignity of the other and avoiding brash self-glorification, because in this manner he is affirming the equality of the other with himself. If he verbally abuses and browbeats the other by using threats, as the younger Igariyen do in their oratorical bouts, he is demonstrating coercion in his discourse and contravening the principle that one must persuade persons who, ideally, are free and should not be compelled. The younger Iqariyen have learned only the more rudimentary rather than the more refined and subtle exercise of power; they have mastered coercion and not persuasion. | would suggest that itis by learning how to be persuasive—how to become an orator 96 Steven C. Caton that an Igar*iyen then becomes a man of honor. If we have not the slightest inkling of how persuasion is learned, it is because power has been conceived of only as force and because there is as yet no study of oratory in Berber society. A NEW APPROACH If we place emphasis on persuasion in our political model, it stands to reason that action must be culturally interpretable in terms of the concept and value of autonomy. I say “culturally” interpretable because I am not talking about Western notions of individualism to be imposed on the data. Persuasion must be explained in light of cultural notions such as autonomy because an actor would only try to persuade someone whom he could not or should not compel. In other words, actors must believe that they are in some sense free to accept or reject political policies and that their opinions matter in the decision-making process. Of course, it may be the case that in any given situation there are factors at play mitigating the voluntariness of action (wealth, military force), but one cannot simply reduce the process of persuasion to “mystification” by claiming that such factors are somehow more “real.” One can only proceed by weighing the given factors in a particular case alongside the use of persuasion and then ranking them, if possible, in the analysis, However, insofar as political analysts rarely if ever pay attention to the variable of persuasion in their analysis, itis impossible to determine in the literature what kind of significance it has. Apart from some cultural notion of autonomy to explain political action, the literature also reveals that the processes by which persuasion is exercised are distinctly verbal ones. We have seen that these processes share certain structural features regardless of the society in which they may be instantiated. What I would like to explore in this section is the question of whether we can describe the form of speaking in these processes that is relevant to our concerns of autonomy, persuasion, and decision-making, Ic is remarkable how often in the travel and ethnographic literature of the Middle East the observation is made that men of power are said to possess “speech,” which metaphorically means that they have access to important contacts in all sorts of wide-ranging networks and therefore can get things done for their followers, but which literally also means that they are persuasive and are orators. Montagne says of the head of the Sous families (southern Morocco) that “il est bon, en outre, d’étre habile au gouvernment et de «savoir parler dans les assembiées.»"” It is also worth citing Burckhardt’s observation of Arabian Bedouin that “a sheikh, however renowned he may be for bravery, or skill in war, can never expect to possess great influence over his Arabs without the talent of oratory."*” Even more remarkable than the constant repetition of this theme is the fact that no analytical study of Middle Eastern tribal leaders has attempted to link power with verbal persuasion in any serious way. At a time when political anthropology is experiencing an interest in oratory or political rhetoric (thanks in no small part to the publication of the collection of papers edited by Maurice Bloch, entitled Political Language and Oratory in Traditional Tribal Society, A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 97 cited n, 7), students of the Middle East should begin to pay attention to modes of discourse connected with the creation and maintenance of power. To say that persuasion is a type of power instantiated in discourse is still too vague a formulation, so let us adopt a model of dialogue—the interchange of talk—to be one ideal type in which the form of this discourse may be analyzed. We have seen it over and over again in the discussions, brief as they have been, of conflict and mediation. The Nuer leopard-skin chief must get all the parties to express their opinions in a case and then draw out the consensus. How else can fone interpret the seeming polyphony of voices in the Basseri herding camp rmectings except as the framing of argument and counterargument, which is dialogue tuned to the high pitch of debate? And is there any better way to understand Jamous’s concept of exchange where the thetorical contests of the “big men” in the assemblies are concerned than in terms of dialogue? Besides involving at least two but often a plethora of voices engaged with each other, dialogue also invokes the notion of autonomy—in fact requires it. A command is not part of a dialogue; a suggestion or a question is. If I have no right to refrain or dissent or agree, I cannot engage in a true dialogue. I do not have to remind the reader that autonomy has been one of the most important themes of sociopolitical action among the Nuer and the Moroccan Berbers. Dialogue, as a sociolinguistic act, is thus perfectly congruent with autonomous action in these kinds of societies. Dialogue is related to a third notion that is important for persuasion— dialectics. It is not enough that a plethora of voices be opposed to each other for a true dialogue to take place; they must also listen and hear in their medley a common chord that keeps them in harmony. If there is not the slightest recognition of mutuality and common ground, the bond of dialogue will snap and the parties disperse. As in dialectics, wherein oppositions are mediated by a third term that has something in common with both, so in dialogue there must ‘be mediation of the opposed points of view. The mediator in tribal conflicts is, in fa sense, a third term who tries to find the common ground in the dialogue of disputes, and then to expand it. Dialogue, then, is a process whereby seemingly opposed spokesmen have their points of view mediated on the basis of mutual ‘consensus, This dialectical process inherent in dialogue is evident in the way in which the tribal leader steers discussions, for he must know how to extract, from all the divergent opinions of his followers, a common group consensus. He is the dialectician par excellence. Power as persuasion is thus instantiated in dialogue, entailing a balance among a plethora of voices, all of which are autonomous and all of which can be mediated through some dialectical process Our understanding of the form of speaking in which the power of persuasion is exercised is not complete, however, if we cannot account for its eloquence. This is the quality remarked upon by Jamous in the speeches given by the “big men” before the assemblies; the rhythmic cadences, the euphonic sounds, the sparkling bon mot, the dexterous metaphor, the architectonic structure of an argument, the stylistically precise choice of words—these are the elements that 98 Steven C. Caton the skillful orator must command to influence his audience's opinions. They are the figures of speech that analytically speaking are best handled by the discipline of poetics, ‘One last issue remains to be addressed in our cultural model: symbolic (as opposed to physical) compulsion, Clearly, the leopard-skin chief and the igurramen possess the power of persuasion as well as the power of the curse, but the latter is used only as a last resort—that is, if persuasion fails. Persuasion and not symbolic compulsion (the curse) is the primary basis of power. In the Igar?iyen case, the younger generation prefers the symbolic compulsion of verbal abuse, whereas the older generation respects the persuasive word in the assembly In all cases, persuasion and not symbolic compulsion is the preferred means of settling disputes. ‘One must try to ascertain in what circumstances power as physical force is invoked as opposed to power as persuasion, and to recognize that there is often a subtle dialectical interplay between the two. In the context of Nuer intratribal relations, the ideal is for persons and groups to resolve their differences through persuasion, whereas in intertribal situations just the reverse is the case and persuasion may not even be possible. Something rather similar seems to occur among the Basseri nomads: intracamp relations are governed ideally by per- suasion rather than physical force, though it is harder to determine from the available facts whether such force becomes more prevalent outside the camp. ‘Among the Iqar?iyen physical force is resorted to by the “big man” but not in the context of the assemblies, where persuasion prevails. CONCLUSION In this article it has been suggested that we rethink the notion of power in terms of persuasion, To carry out such an analysis of power would require, of course, linguistic data of a sort anthropologists do not usually collect. For various reasons, which are not always the fault of the ethnographer, we have bbeen left entirely in the dark as to whar has been said and how it has been said in fa variety of social contexts where the decision-making process takes place, whether these be the zawiya of the High Atlas saint, Igar’iyen political assemblies, or herding camp meetings. To their credit, Barth, Geliner, and, to a greater extent, Jamous provide us with some data bearing on notions and ways of speaking in these social contexts, but these data were collected with other problems in mind and are barely enough to serve even the most piecemeal analysis. Sometimes the reason for the paucity of such data must be explained by the lack of linguistic competence on the part of the ethnographer who, as in the case of Barth, may rely largely on an interpreter and will thereby miss the nuances of linguistic usage so crucial to the problem at hand. But this is not always the case; it is not always a lack of linguistic competence that is the problem so much as it is a shortcoming of the analysis—the failure to realize that persuasion is at least as important as force in comprehending political action, A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle Fast 99 Fluency in a ficld language may be sufficient for collecting the data, but it is not sufficient as far as the analysis is concerned, which requires a grounding in linguisties, political rhetoric, and poetics beyond what most students of political action possess. The benefit of interdisciplinary work in tackling the problem set forth in this article accrues not only to students of Middle Eastern tribal politics but also to scholars interested more generally in the relationship of speech and society. As we have already stated, observers have long ago remarked on the cultural importance of eloquence in defining leadership qualities among tribes of, the Middle East, Our model helps us to understand that this valuation of speech is related, and crucially 50, t0 a central model of social organization—the segmentary system—and to one of the key problems of sociological analysis— namely, the question of maintaining social order. In other words, exploring our problem of understanding power as persuasion presents an opportunity to bring together the study of speech and of society in some of their most profound and important forms, which will help us to enrich and strengthen the field of sociolinguistics as well as Middle East studies. LINGUISTICS PROGRAM HAMILTON COLLEGE ores Author's note: | am most grateful to the readers selected by the journal, whose insightful comments and bibliographical suggestions helped immensely to sharpen my argument. 1 would like to thank Michael E. Meeker for his extensive comments on an earlier version of this article. Among. other things, he brought to my attention the need to talk about force in symbolic terms and also ireted me toward Said S. Samatar's book Oral Poetry and Somali Nationalism (Cambridge, 1982). 1am also grateful forthe criticisms of Joshua L. Simonds, which inflenced my’ revisions Mi Fortes and F, E. Evans-Prichard, eds, African Political Systems (London, 1970), . Xi 2, E, Evans-Pritchard, The Nuer (New York, 1974), “The Nuer of the Southern Sudan,” in African Poltical Systems, pp. 272-96, and The Sanusi of Cirenaca (Oxford, 1949}; E. L. Petes, “The Proliferation of Segments inthe Lineage of the Bedouin of Cyrenaica,” J. R. Anthrop. Inst, 89 (1959), 29-53, and *Some Structural Aspects of the Feud Among Camel-Herding Bedouin of, CCyrenaica," Africa, 37,3 July, 1967), 261-82; Enest Geller, Saints ofthe Atlas (Chicago, 1969}. Raymond Jamous, Honnewr et baraka. Les structures sociales tadiionelles dans le Rif (Cambridge, 198). “Frederik Barth, Polical Leadership among Swat Pathans, London School of Economics Mono- fraphs on Social Anthropology, No. 19 (London. 1959), Features of Person and Society in Swat: Collected Essays of Frederik Barth, Vol. 2(London, 1981), and Nomads of Souh Persia: The Baseri Tribe of the Khamseh Confederacy (Boston, 196), “Roman Jakobson, “Concluding Statement: Linguistics and Poetics” in Thomas A. Sebeok, ed Sipe in Language (Cambridge, Mas, 197), pp. 350-77 "Kenneth Burke, 4 Rhetoric of Motives (Berkeley, 1969), and Philosophy of Literary Form (Berkeley, 1973), See also Jan Mukafovskj, The Word and Verbal Art (New Haven, 197), and Structure. Sign and Function (New Haven, 1978). ‘Maurice Bloch, ed. Pollical Language and Oratory in Traditional Society (London, 1975) Various anthropologists doing reearch in the Middle East have been aware of the significance of, ‘oratory. See, for example, Dale F. Eickelman, "The Art of Memory,” Comparative Studies in Soviets and History, 20, 4 (1978); and Clilford Geert2, “Aras a Cultural System,” in his Local Knowledge (New York, 1983), pp. 94-120. 100 Steven C. Caton id, Samatar, Orel Pocry amd Somal Nationalism (Cambri, 1982) {Bid pp. 2425. liam Bright, ed, Sociolinguistics (Mouton, 1966: Dell Hymes, Fondant Socolnustis (Philsdetpia, 1978); John G. Gurmpere and De Hymes, eds The Etronraphy of Communication (Washington, D.C. 1968), and Directions in Sacolgustis: The EXinopraphy of Communication (New York, 1972) Richard Bauman and Joel Scherzer, eds, Explorations inthe Ethnography of Speaking (Cambridge, 1974; Michal Siversin,“Shifers. Linguistic Categories, and. Cultural Description." in Keith H.Baso and Henry A Selby, eds Meaning Amhropoogy (ATbaguerge, 1976), pp. 1-55, nomas Hobbes, Leviathan (1681), especialy Pat Ch. XL “Esane Prichard, The Nur 1S ibid p18 “eters Siructral Aspects ofthe Feu.” "p. 186: "The Corporate ies ncompal ‘enue of Southern Sudan.” 278 tear. he Nuer. 16. peters, "Structural Aspects the Feu,” p 268 "Gener Saino the Alas, For erica of Geliners thes sce Abdelsh Hammoud, “Seementari,seatification soca, pouvoir poltigue et sine. Refecions sur les théses de Geller” Hespris-Tammuda, 15 (197), 147-80; Hired Geers, “Review of Saint ofthe Ala” Jounal of American Socolegs, 161971). 163-66, "Gener Sams of he Aas, p82 vans-Pritchard, The Muer. 13 toa .15. “id, pp. 85-86. Evans Pritchard, The Nur pp 16-64 Getine, Saints ofthe Ads 86. bd bid. p29. See note for Bart's work Barth claimed that inthe Sma stem, individuals belonged to speifeknship or descent groups but would establish contractal rsatons ith landowning chief for exentilly econome and politeal reasons, and that these chiefs would compete for power i the potical stem. The basic Politelstrture of Swat society, according to this argument «dyadic bond between cent and Patron: viewed another way. the political stem const of «fld of competing patrons "See Talal Asad, "Market Model, Caw Structure and Consent. A Revomidration of Swat Polat Organization,” Man, 7,1 (1872), 79-96, Akbar Ahmad, Millenium and Charisma among Pathans (London, 1976) Charts Lindbolm, Generosity and Jealousy (New York. 1982, For erga of Barths Nomads, see Emrys Pees, “The Paucly of Ritual Among Middle Eastern Pastoral in Flam in Trio Soviie, AKDar S. Ahmad and David M. Har eds. (London, 1984), pp, 87-219. "Frederik Barth, “Swat Pathans Reconsidered,” in Features of Person and Saciety in Swat, pe, 21-81 "are, Nomads, p27. “td oid. p28 “ibid p32 ti p30 le with a state of feud.” bid, p32. “yi 160. “bids p37, ‘bid. pp. 28-26, id p25 A Critique of the Segmentary Model in the Middle East 101 “iid, p.3. “thi pp. 29 and 8 “ti. pp. 4-45, Wid, pat “william Lancaster, Te Reale Bedouin Today (Cambri p67

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