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Like People in Prehistory Thomas A, Dowson World Archaeology, Vol. 29, No. 3, Intimate Relations. (Feb., 1998), pp. 333-343. Stable URL http: flinksjstor-org/sici%sici= 13-8243%28199802%2929%3A3%3C 3ALPIP%3E2.0,CO%3B2-1 World Archaeology is currently published by Taylor & Francis, Ltd, Your use of the ISTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR’s Terms and Conditions of Use, available at bhupulwww.jstororg/about/terms.hunl. JSTOR’s Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of « journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial us. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use ofthis work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at hupswww jstor-org/journalstaylorfrancis. html Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission, JSTOR is an independent not-for-profit organization dedicated to ereating and preserving a digital archive of scholarly journals. For more information regarding JSTOR, please contact support @jstor.org, hupslwwwjstonore/ Fri Nov 24 11:05:58 2006 Like people in prehistory Thomas A. Dowson Abstract, ‘The interpretation of shamanic art runs into a number of hermencutic problems. Most noticeably, hallucinatory images are perceived as graphic metaphors produced simply to explain shamans’ experiences in the spirit-world. Interpretations along these lines downplay the vast diversity of shamanie expression as well as diminishing the role these images play in structuring social relations, ‘Shamans’ experiences, which include relations with supernatural beings, are at the heart of those shamans’ identities. For shamans, then, these supernatural relations are as real as the everyday social relations we all recognize and accept. In this paper I take a specifi set of rock paintings and ‘demonstrate how politically prominent shamans use supernatural relations and their depiction in rock att images to underwrite social relations, and viee versa, Keywords ‘Shamanism; South Africa; rock art; San, In The Seven Visions of Bull Lodge George Horse Capture and Fred Gone give us a very detailed and moving story of a great warrior and medicine man, Bull Lodge. They not only describe how the Supreme Being came to him in a succession of visions, and how he received the Chief Medicine Pipe, but also how he used this spiritual wisdom to become a powerful and highly respected medicine person within his community. I give a short quote: Bull Lodge followed his customary ceremonies for three months, from late spring into the summer. Then one summer day... he lay in the grass on his back with his arms out flat on the ground, elbows bent... As he gazed up at the sky, an object appeared. It was a shield, with a string or fine cord attached to it leading up into the sky. ...'Then Bull Lodge heard a voice. The sound came from behind the shield . .. My child, look at this thing, I am giving it to you from above. It is for your living. In times of danger when you need my help, you must always say, “Help me Thunder Sing.” I will always hear you when you pronounce my name: Thunder Sing. Now I will instruct you con- cerning what you must do, There are seven buttes on this earth that you must sleep on. ‘You must do this in imitation of me, for I too have done it’ (Horse Capture 1980: 32-3) World Archaeology Vol. 29(3): 333-343 Intimate Relations © Routledge 1998 0043-8243 334 Thomas A, Dowson Bull Lodge's relationship with his spiritual mentor was one that lasted for some time; from twelve years old to when he was twenty-three, although such a relationship never really ends. Its easy for Western academics to take this account of a great and uncompromising warrior and shaman simply as an ethnography of the A’aninin ~ the White Clay People of Montana, or even as a contribution to our understanding of shamanism, This account may in fact give an insight into the A’aninin and their spirituality. There may also be aspects of Bull Lodge's experience that shed light on shamanism worldwide. But to see this life history exclusively in these terms is to ‘turn experience into abstract concepts’ (Horse Capture 1980: 14), Rock art scholars writing interpretative accounts of the visual expression of shamanism frequently draw on ideas of spirits and spirit-helpers. More often than not, very real experiences are effectively written about as abstract concepts, where experience becomes nothing more than a ‘metaphor’ to explain shamans’ relationships to their spirit-worlds. Bull Lodge's story, like so many others, shows us that such a perception is not only insen- sitive, but also somewhat naive. In this paper I explore the implications of this insight drawn from Bull Lodge’s exper- ences, in a very different context, [ ask what it means for our understanding of certain aspects of San shamanism depicted in rock paintings of southern Africa. I argue that supernatural relations are at the very heart of a shaman’s construction of self. Conse- ‘quently, shamans’ relations with their spirits and spirt-helpers are indeed very intimate, and every bit as real as their relations with other people. Metaphor and ageney In much of the interpretative research on southern African rock art of the last two decades the concept of metaphor has come to structure the meaning offered for most, if not all, rock art imagery. The metaphors derive from shamans’ (both men and women) experi- ences in altered states of consciousness during trance or curing rituals (Plate 1; see Mar: shall 1969; Lewis-Williams 1982). Lewis Williams and Loubser (1986) in fact outlined a ‘metaphorical model’ that not only isolated relationships within the art, but also between art and other forms of expression such as myth and ritual. Metaphors of trance experi ence are thought to have constituted the structure that constrained shaman artists and their symbolic work. ‘The painting of a trance dance reproduced here in Figure 1 clearly illustrates this posi- tion, A large, central shaman has two long ‘streamers’ issuing from his head that usually represent a person's spirit leaving on out-of-body travel (Lewis-Williams 1981: 95). This figure also has lines on his face, some of which probably depict the nasal haemorrhage associated with trance performance (Bleck 1935, 1936). On either side of him are seated figures; their breasts indicate they are women. The women are depicted in clapping pos- tures, their fingers being individually drawn. (Seated, clapping figures can also be seen in the photograph of a trance dance, Plate 1.) These are the people who clap and sing the medicine songs, while the dancing shamans enter trance to journey to the spirit-world (see Figure 3 for details) Like people in prehistory 335 Plate 1A trance dance in the Kalahari (1950s, Photo: L, Marshall) ‘To the left of the central figure, and facing him, are thr that suggest feline affinities; the bottom figure also has enigmatic ‘tusks’. I believe these figures depict the frightening spirits of the dead that often take on the form of lions and gainst whom Kalahari [Kung San shamans struggle in the spirt-world of trance experi- ence. During a trance dance, these spirits of the dead are believed to hover in the dark- ness beyond the light of the fie. There are also numerous bags painted around the central figure; nineteenth-century southern San myths suggest that these bags are probably symbols of trance experience (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1989; 116-17). In the left-hand section of the panel (Fig. 2) are some extremely weird depictions that represent hallucinations from very deep stages of trance. Four of the figures have both animal and human characteristics. The one on the extreme left has a human hind leg (cather than an animal leg) and a human foot with three nails as well as cloven hooves. ‘There is also a snake with tusks (see Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1989: 66-7) like those on one ofthe therianthropes. These hallucinations, set off to one side, represent the spirit world experiences of the dancer in the centre of the right-hand section (Fig. 3). Lewis-Williams and Loubser's metaphorical model provided a methodological back- bone to the large body of interpretative research on southern African rock art. But, metaphor is only afforded such prominence by virtue of structuralist/post-structuralis theoretical positions. For the structuralists, itis essentially through the use of metaphors 336 Thomas A. Dowson Figure IA rock painting ofa trance dance from the south-eastern mountains, showing the actual positions of the two panels (Figs 2 and 3) which make up the painting Figure 2 Detail of the left-hand panel of Figure 1 ~ the hallucinatory experiences of the large central shaman in the right-hand section that ‘myths operate in men’s minds without their being aware of the fact’ (Lévi-Strauss 1966: 12). In the context of southern African rock art the artist and the image are passive, the enigmatic images are simply graphic metaphors that explain a shaman’s experience in the spirit world. Or, as Lewis-Wiliams (1982: 438) once put it, ‘the painted symbols of trance experience provide a permanent backdrop to the daily social relationships point- ing to the social and economic order which the medicine men (sic) worked to maintain More recently researchers have attempted to move beyond such objectivistinterpre- tations by thinking about individuals as more active agents who create as well as parti pate in the communities in which they ive (Dowson 1994, 1995, in press; Lewis-Williams 1095). It follows then, that the images themselves play an active role in day-to-day social relations: they are no longer seen as passive props. These studies rely on such theoreti approaches as Bourdieu's (1977) theory of practice or Giddens's (1979, 1984). structuration theory, as well as related theoretical approaches to the social production of art (Wolff 1981). A key feature of these theories is the knowledgeable, active individual For Giddens ‘every social actor knows a great deal about the conditions of reproduction of the society of which he or she isan actor (1979: 5). Individuals’ actions are both enabled and constrained by the rules and resources they manipulate. Individual artists, then, used the production of rock art actively to negotiate their position in communities in which they lived Agency and the production of rock art To be able to discern exactly how the art played this role I demonstrate how the depic- tions were produced, The cognitive structure of the art was socially produced in that Like people in prehistory 337 onl yt el Mth pV Figure 3 Detail ofthe right-hand panel of Figure 1 ~ the ‘real’ trance dance. ‘meanings attached to specific combinations of formal attributes, such as colour or size, come out of day-to-day social practice. The art was thus intimately implicated in devetop- ing social relations and the reproduction and transformation of social forms. Generally, and very briefly, I show how these processes came together and how the art negotiated San ideology, particularly shaman ideology. ‘The proximity of Bantu-speaking farmers generated a new set of social relations in which the San in general and the shaman in particular were implicated. Farmers recog- nized the San as the original inhabitants and custodians of the land. The relationship, posited essentially on land ownership, came to centre on rain-making. The farmers, more than the San themselves, were dependent on rain; even minor droughts and, perhaps more important, delayed rains, affected their crops and herds far more than they did the San’s, antelope and plant foods. The mediator between the San and the farmers thus turned out to be the shaman, Part of the shamans’ symbolic work was rain-making (Lewis-Williams 1981: 103-16, 1982; Campbell 1987). Even though the farmers had occupied the land, they ‘were unable to farm successfully without rain. The farmers requested San rain-makers to perform rituals and gave them cattle in return. Thus the shaman exercised ideological control over the farmers’ economy. Because the shamans were paid for their rain-making services with cattle, presumably among other things, they acquired a new status as procurers of meat, and no doubt they achieved power through a newly developed right to distribute the meat. With the deple- tion of antelope herds by white hunters and the extermination of the San by white com: mandos, San shamans were forced to become more dependent on the farmers: the shamans had to tighten their grip on the farmers. This resulted in San families going to live with black farmers (Peires 1981: 24). It could be that these people were acknow- ledging the farmers’ control of the land, but, at the same time, trying to retain some pos tion of spiritual power and status Within San communities, diminishing traditional resources and, at the same time, new sources of wealth resulting from new social and economic relations with the farmers engendered competition between shamans. People looked to them as their go-betweens with the farmers and, increasingly, as the most reliable procurers of food. Shamans thus 338 Thomas A. Dowson began to compete with one another and with important non-shamans ofthe group for pos- itions of influence. These power strugales, as well as the stresses of cultural contact between farmers and hunter-gatherers, were negotiated (not just reflected) in the art, The art, produced by shamans, became active and instrumental in forging new social relations that developed out of these power struggles. People negotiate personal and social identities by means of stylistic statements (Wiess ner 1984, 1989). Social identities become important during situations of intergroup com: petition and the need for co-operation to attain social, political or economic goals. ‘Competition among individuals and an increase in options for individual enterprise result, in strong. personal identities. Contact between Bantu-speaking farmers and the San created situations where both social and personal identities were implicated in social relations, and both of these are negotiated in the art, according to the social regime of a given time and place. I give two examples of how this happened. First, the south-eastern mountains contain the most variation in styles’, but, at the same ‘timo, itis in this region that the diversity of animal depictions is less marked than else where in southern Africa. Eland and thebok are by far the most frequently painted animals. The limiting of animal diversity in the paintings of this region was one result of new interest in projecting a social identity and a social unity during changing social con- ditions. At least one San community of that area spoke of themselves as being ‘of the land’ (Vinnicombe 1976; Lewis-Williams 1988). The paintings of eland found through- ‘out the south-eastern mountains suggest that using the art to negotiate a group identity ‘was in fact a region-wide response to changing social relations. But careful attention to a second theme, that of trance dances and the way in which shamans are painted, shows there were also differences within this region ‘One way of painting trance dances found throughout the south-eastern mountains shows all the human figures uniformly painted: the figures are all more or less the same size, and none depicts @ person who is more elaborately decorated or dressed than any of the others, shamans or non-shamans. I suggest that these paintings point to social cir- cumstances in which a number of people in the community were shamans and no one was pre-eminent; even though shamans could contact the spirit-world, heal and make rain, they were no ‘better’ than anyone else (Dowson 1994). Service to their community was a privilege not a power base. A situation of this kind is described by Marshall (1969), Lee (1968, 1979), Biesele (1978) and by others for parts of the Kalahari in the 1950s and 1960s. At that time, about half the men and a third of the women in any camp were shamans ‘Communal healing dances to which everyone came were held frequently when there were ‘enough people present. Although some shamans earned reputations for being especially effective healers, they did not assume positions of more general leadership or political influence. It is arguable that these uniformly painted trance dances were implicated in social pro- cesses that limited the development of personal power. The art did not simply reflect social conditions, any more than it merely pictured the use of artefacts and the presence of certain animals. It was part of active material culture that negotiated social relations and statuses, Imbued with potency, these images of ‘equality’ helped to reproduce specific kinds of social relations. As ‘potent’ statements of what happened in the ultimately real spirit-world, they were coercive in the sense that they presented a supernaturally Like people in prehistory 339 sanctioned social, indeed cosmological, order in which shamans were numerous and no one was more powerful than the other. Paintings pointing to an elaboration of power roles are, apart from a few outliers, found in a comparatively small area of the south-eastern mountains. This area, known to the colonists as ‘nomansland’, was the last southern refuge of comparatively independent San communities. Given the acknowledged San occupancy of the area, the name ‘nomansland” is grimly ironic. Here there are paintings of trance dances in which there is one promi- nent shaman figure, often larger, often highly claborately decorated and with facial fe tures. The political centrality of one striking, pre-eminent shaman figure, supported in his spiritual tasks by other members of the community, is, I argue, suggested by the painting reproduced in Figure 1 ‘A comparable, but not identical, trajectory has been observed in the Ghanzi area of the Kalahari. Here the land was appropriated by white farmers, and the San were forced to accept employment with them, When wage-labour restricted the San’s movements in this, way, the shamans (who did not make rock art) became fewer and itinerant, moving from farm to farm to perform their healing rituals. Today, their enhanced social status is undei written by their possession of potency, their prestige as well-known healers, and the politi~ cal implications of the small herds of cattle they keep at a home base (Guenther 1975, 1975/6, 1986). They are emerging as political, not just spiritual, leaders. Hallucination and shamanic representation Figure 1 and other similar rock paintings (see Fig. 4) that depict pre-eminent shamans show that painters were not ineluctably governed by artistic conventions and metaphori- cal structures. Rather, we should, as Giddens (1984) has suggested, think of structure as part of the resources, both material and non-material, on which individuals can draw. Artists manipulated design elements such as size, colour and detail, as well as graphic Figure 4A portion of a larger panel showing a pre-eminent shaman and ‘his’ rain-animal in a trance ritual 340 Thomas A, Dowson representations of hallucinations to suit specific political purposes (see also Dowson 1994, 1995, in press). ‘As Thave argued, the association of at least some of the images with supernatural ele ‘ments and the spirit world (clearly suggested in Figure 1 by the elawed figures) imparted an incontrovertible factuality to the images and to the kind of cosmos they depicted. Manipulating the art was therefore not far from manipulating the universe itself. The potent essence of the rock art images imparted a factuality to the social relations and cos- mology that they depicted. A shaman’s hallucinations are then more than just manipu- latable non-material resources. They are, in fact, an important part of the construction of 4 shaman’s personal identity ‘An important part of a shaman’s socio-political praxis involved communicating the experiences of the spirit-world to people in the real world. A shaman’s identity then is, in part, dependent on a representational confrontation with a non-shaman. Hallucinations, experiences of shaman as opposed to non-shamans, therefore provide the apparatus of shamanic representation, As Giddens remarks, ‘the self is the agent as characterised by the agent’ (1991: 242). Shamans identify themselves with specific spirit-helpers, supreme beings or visions — and itis these hallucinations that create a shaman and his or her know. ledge. ‘The large, central shaman in Figure 3, although located in the ‘real’ context of a trance ritual, is linked to his spirit-world. His legs and back are painted in two colours, red (black in the illustration) and ochre (stippled), much like some of the other human figures around him, But, unlike these other human figures, red lines are painted on the ochre sections which resemble the markings on some of the hallucinatory beings in the left-hand portion of the panel (Fig. 2). The artist in this instance, chose a fairly simple visual marker to link the shaman on the right with his spirits on the left. In so doing, that person has captured, the essence of the individual shaman’s identity. Because colonial tensions heightened competition amongst these pre-eminent shamans, there were marked differences in the personal identities of these shamans. Their familiarity with the spirit-world provided a focus for these differences. The way in which this knowledge was drawn into modes of signification legitimated the power these shamans exercised, The pre-eminent shaman illustrated in Figure 4 is not only markedly

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