Revolution and Witchcraft.

The Code of
Ideology in Unsettled Times Gordon C.
Chang
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/revolution-and-witchcraft-the-code-of-ideology-in-uns
ettled-times-gordon-c-chang/
Revolution
and Witchcraft
The Code of Ideology in Unsettled Times

Gordon C. Chang
Foreword by Richard Biernacki
Revolution and Witchcraft
 Gordon C. Chang

Revolution and
Witchcraft
The Code of Ideology in Unsettled Times
Gordon C. Chang
Department of Sociology and Anthropology
Western Illinois University
Macomb, IL, USA

ISBN 978-3-031-17681-4    ISBN 978-3-031-17682-1 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-17682-1

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2023. This book is an open access
publication.
Open Access This book is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-­
NonCommercial-­NoDerivatives 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/
licenses/by-­nc-­nd/4.0/), which permits any noncommercial use, sharing, distribution and
reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original
author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons licence and indicate if you
modified the licensed material. You do not have permission under this license to share
adapted material derived from this book or parts of it.
The images or other third party material in this book are included in the book’s Creative
Commons licence, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not
included in the book’s Creative Commons licence and your intended use is not permitted by
statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly
from the copyright holder.
This work is subject to copyright. All commercial rights are reserved by the author(s),
whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation,
reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in
any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic
adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or here-
after developed. Regarding these commercial rights a non-exclusive license has been granted
to the publisher.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the
publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to
the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The
publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and
institutional affiliations.

Cover illustration: Tithi Luadthong/Alamy Stock Photo

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
 Dedicated to Hugh “Bud” Mehan,
who has made the world positive and different
 Foreword

Socio-cultural investigators who take their task as that of unmasking the

historical peculiarity of putatively universal terms, including “the human,”
will surely be provoked by the very opening of this book. For Gordon
Chang thinks he has license to ponder “human beings” as such, or at least
the building blocks of their inferences and meaning-making. The great
accomplishment of his comparisons of discursive derangements in wildly
different cultural contexts is to make good on that methodological con-
ceit. He does not say that American political discourses leading to the
invasion of Iraq are “like” those leading to his other showcases of collec-
tive madness, the Maoist Cultural Revolution, and the early modern witch
hunts in Europe. He discloses merely how the dimming of public reason-
ing in the American polity of our day represents a more insidious merger
of discursive maneuvers that had remained disjoined in other episodes of
craziness. “Anatomize, then historicize!” might be his credo. That com-
prises Chang’s novel invitation for analysts of discourse to think big again.

Berkeley, CA, USA Richard Biernacki


May 2022

vii
 Acknowledgments

Several journal editors in the field of discourse analysis have helped to

publish early pieces in this book, including Charles Briggs of Pragmatics,
Teun van Dijk of Discourse and Society, and Ruth Wodak of the Journal of
Language and Politics. Ivan Leudar translated one of the articles into
Czech for Biograf. I thank these individuals for their positive reception of
my early work, as well as the respective journals for their kind permission
to reprint modified versions of the articles in this book.
The core part of this book was written during a one-year sabbatical
leave awarded by Western Illinois University between 2017 and 2018. I
spent the year as a visiting scholar at the University of California, San
Diego, my alma mater. UC San Diego, from the late 1990s and 2000s, is
where I developed my interest and training in qualitatively oriented, theo-
retically driven sociology. I have had the good fortune to encounter and
interact with scholars of various disciplines in sociology as well as in other
departments. There are too many people to mention, but some notable
examples are Carlos Waisman, Kwai Ng, Richard Madsen, Ivan Evans, Jeff
Haydu, Martha Lampland, Harvey Goldman, Susan Yonezawa, Makeba
Jones, and George Lipsitz. Among them, Charles Thorpe and Isaac Martin
have provided understated but much appreciated critical support.
Ultimately, I could not have been more fortunate than to have selected
Hugh Mehan, Bennetta Jules-Rosette, Richard Biernacki, Gary Fields,
and Masao Miyoshi as members of my doctoral dissertation committee in
2008. Rick had been my honest, supportive figure in every stage of my
work; Gary is the right kind of humanistic scholar needed for every con-
troversy. The late Masao Miyoshi is responsible for delaying this book for

ix
x ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

several years by—through his insistent, vivacious, inspiring critique—com-

pelling me to connect social constructionism with critical theory.
For many years, I have been part of the Art, Culture, and Knowledge
(ACK) research group coordinated by Bennetta Jules-Rosette. I have ben-
efited deeply from exchanging ideas on topics related to the sociology of
culture, art, and knowledge with several long-term members in this com-
munity for more than two decades. These members include Lea Ruiz-Ade,
Wayne ‘J.R.’ Osborn, Lorna Lueker Zukas, Alex Zukas, Ricardo Guthrie,
Erica Fontana, Pierce Flynn, and Eduardo Santana. J.R. Osborn, in par-
ticular, has been a terrific peer who adds wonder to every one of our con-
versations as he challenges my logic and assumptions.
I want to thank several anonymous reviewers who have shown a warm
interest in the initial book proposal, and one key reviewer for this manu-
script has especially shaped the fate of this book by his support and detailed
review. Elizabeth Graber from Palgrave Macmillan, by judiciously mediat-
ing author’s and publisher’s needs, has been a wonderful editor to work
with. Outside of Palgrave Macmillan, Ramon Battershall has magnificently
copyedited multiple early drafts of this manuscript. Chris Buchanan, Noah
Faingold, and Bennitta Rector have provided insightful, pragmatic feed-
back as this book’s beta readers. In ways more than I initially realized, the
friendship and companionship of Erik Borowitz, Sean Dinces, and Alex
Jong-Seok Lee, as well as my interactions with the ethnomethodology and
interactionist communities, have helped me sustain the energy needed to
complete this book.
There are, however, three individuals without whom my thoughts in
this book would never have come to fruition.
The late John McNeil, former professor of education at UCLA, has
been a spiritual anchor throughout my academic career. I was lucky
enough to have had the invaluable opportunity to meet and converse with
him regarding the theory of humanistic education since 2001, and he has
watched this book project develop step by step into its current form. John
has read and commented on all the chapters of this book when they were
in their fledgling versions and provided incredibly frank and pertinent
feedback during many critical junctures of my writing process. It should
be added that he was still actively commenting on my drafts at the centen-
nial age of 100 in 2020! I am forever grateful and indebted to him for his
support, trust, and generosity of spirit.
Bennetta Jules-Rosette has been an important mentor, companion, and
friend. Besides involving me in her ACK group and the African and
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS xi

African-American Studies Research Center (AAASRC), she has deeply

influenced my interest in the worlds of qualitative sociology and sociology
of knowledge. During 2017–2018, she helped to coordinate a visiting
scholar arrangement with the AAASRC and the Department of Sociology
at UC San Diego, during which I completed the core part of my research
and writing. Our habit of holding extensive multi-hour conversations
dates back many years; some of the key ideas in this book originate from
those extended conversations, especially as they pertain to semiotics and
ethnomethodology.
Hugh ‘Bud’ Mehan, who I first met in 1998, initially introduced me to
the fascinating world of sociology. He showed me the sheer intellectual
power and promise of qualitative sociology, and subsequently took the
practical actions required to help me develop an academic career so that I
could work in this immersive field. This book project, as well as my whole
orientation toward sociology, is owed to the insights he had developed
over the course of many years. I hope that readers can see my appreciation
of the depth and genius of his academic approach through the parts in
which his framework is referenced. For the many years of support he has
extended to me, I owe him more than I could possibly articulate. This
book is dedicated to him.
Lastly, politics is a fickle thing; great differences can emerge between
moral and intelligent people; I hope this work captures something con-
stant. Although many individuals have been mentioned in this acknowl-
edgment, this book has not been written with their direct approval.
Therefore, the defects and shortcomings are entirely my own.
 Contents

1 Introduction  1
The Spontaneous Formation of Ideological Ideas   2
Scholarly Engagements with “Ideology”   4
Utilities of a System Perspective   7
Considering the Dynamic Part-Whole Relations   8
Delineating Causal Relationships   9
Identifying Situated, Competent, Artfulness Ideological Works  10
Definition and Characterization of Idea Systems  12
Invisible Control of Building Block Patterns  12
Observing and Deconstructing Codification  13
Seven Domains of Components for Idea Construction  16
Social Actors Who Design, Manipulate, and Activate Idea
Systems  17
Active, Grand-Scale Manipulators or Designers  18
Small-time Manipulators  18
Passive, Conduit-Like Users and Activators  19
Methodological Choices to Study Idea Systems  19
Three Cases of Idea Systems  22
Academic, Humanistic, and Practical Connections  23
Engaging Ideological Problems in the Present Time  24

xiii
xiv Contents

Part I The European Witch Hunts  27

2 Making Compact Symbolic Structures 29

Preexisting Knowledge  32
Compact Symbolic Structures  36
Seven Domains of Components  36
Pre-coding Assembly  41
Compactness of Idea Sets  42
Structures of Idea Sets  42
Diverse, Intricate Justification Structures  44
Flexibility and Restrictedness of Empirical Referents  45
The Case of Anna Fessler in Langenburg  47
Causal Linkage from Repeated Associations, Copresences, and
Correlations  50
Data Set: How Much Correlative Evidence Is Enough?  53
Using Language to Organize Copresent and Sequential
Correlations  53
Causal Linkage from Experiments and Miscellaneous Testing
Mechanisms  55
Backstage Manipulation  58
Interpretive and Design Manipulations  59
Types of Definitive and Uncertain Signs  61

3 Building Internal Coherence 65

A Common Code System and Its Set of Coded Things  67
Defining a Cohesive Pool of Qualifying Evidence  67
Converged Matching Evidence as Seen in Confession Accounts  69
Remarkable Account Convergence and Detail-Congruity  70
The Trier Episode  71
Backstage Processes and Internal Coherence  76
Coercion, Seen and Unseen  77
Narrative Shell and Other Institutional Elicitation Structures  81
Undisclosed Informational Leakage  85
Material Verification and the Loudon Possession Episode  87
The Loudon Possession Episode  88
 Contents  xv

4 Building External Coherence 93

Relational Bridges: Thin Versus Thick Parallels  94
Multiple Voices and Multivocality  98
Preemptive Design and Secondary Elaboration 100
Parameters of Acceptable Contradictions 101
External Coherence with Competing Knowledge Systems and
Authorities 105

5 Stepwise Inferences and Chain-Complexes of Ideas109

Two Types of Stepwise Inferencing 110
Step-by-Step, Chain-by-Chain Constructions 111
The Bizarre, Brutal Acts Toward Magdalena Bollmann 111
Long Chain Extensions: Unto the Very Far 112
Portal-Like Chain Extensions: Unto the Very Fast 118
Extending and Multiplying Errors: Unto the Very Wrong 120
The Chain-Complex that Entrapped Magdalena Bollmann 122

6 Ideas as Chemical and Biochemical Reactions127

Empirical Rigor: A Physical Safeguard or Chemical Poison? 128
Catalysts and Inhibitors 131
Catalysts 132
Inhibitors 136
Poison or Medicine?: The Intricacy of Chemical Reactions 139
Creative Agency: By a Hair’s Difference 140

7  Five-Tier Model of Idea System and Ideological

A
Creativity143
Believability 143
Resilience 145
Adaptability 146
Developmental Potential 147
Ease of Use 149

Part II The New Revolution in China 151

8 Compact Symbolic Structures in a Futuristic Idea System153

An Ideal Vision as Preexisting Knowledge 164
Theoretical Contents 165
xvi Contents

Compact Symbolic Structures: Based on Fitting Images 167

Clear Categories and Categorical Aggregates 173
Categorical Versus Continuous Thinking 173
Aggregation 176
Categorical Aggregates as Filters 176
The Idea System in Basic Use 178
Enumeration 184
Escalation, Redirection, De-escalation 188

9 Totality as Internal and External Coherence199

Totalistic: Ideationally, Spiritually, and Institutionally 200
Purity-Focused and Pollution-Conscious 201
Outwardly Collective and Public 204
Preemptive Design and Secondary Elaboration 206
The Chicken Lot Example 208
The Tsinghua University Example 209

10  etailed, Rigorous Thinking in a Complex Chain of

D
Elastic Codes211
Theorizing Elasticity: Using Elastic Constructs 211
Elastic Constructs Versus Visual Symbols 212
From Resemblance to Equivalence 214
Substantiating Elastic Constructs with Evidence: The Case of
Peng Zhen 215
Other Creative Inferencing 228
Forging Connections: Cognitive Portal and Chain-Like
Complexes 228
Using Deep Theories: Example of a Volleyball Match Incident 230
Assessing the Great Leap Forward at a Time of Terrible
Aftermath 233

11  estabilizing Contradictions and Implosions I:

D
Synchronic Contradictions241
A Catalogue of Elastic, Approximated Categories 242
Basic Origins of Unresolvable, Built-In Contradictions 244
The Case of the Background Theory Debate 249
 Contents  xvii

12  estabilizing Contradictions and Implosions II:

D
Diachronic Contradictions269
Accumulating Diachronically Developed Contradictions 269
Series of National Dramas of Inversal and Reversal 270
External Sources of Contradictions: The Accumulation of
Counterimages 279
A. Technical Inefficiency and Limitation 280
B. Hypocrisy and “Other” Truths 281
C. Relative Cruelty 282
D. Growing Personal Competence 283

13  Five-Tier Assessment287
A
Believability 287
Resilience 290
Adaptability 291
Developmental Potential 292
Ease of Use 293

Part III The War on Terror 295

14  ncoding the War on Terrorism297

E
From 9/11 to the War on Terrorism Script: Using the American
Civil Religion 298
Days 1 and 2 300
The 30 Days Following 9/11 301
Establishing the Case for the War in Afghanistan 301
Equivalence Through Common Group Membership 302
Streamlining the Mode of Reasoning 304
The Design of Political Demands 305
The Design of “Draining the Swamp” Policy Metaphor 306
Maneuvering over Contesting Epistemic Conventions 309

15  xtending the Idea System to the War on Iraq311

E
The Threat of Iraq: Codification in the Face of Empirical
Ambiguity 312
Secretary Powell’s U.N. Presentation 314
Intelligence Sources as a Superior Kind of Information 315
xviii Contents

Detailed Congruity and Account Convergence from a

Polyphony of Authorities 316
Accounting and Displaying Patterns in Ambiguous
Empirical Materials 317
Defectors’ Accounts: Detailed Congruities 322
Using Ambiguous Signs in Stepwise Inferencing 326
Hybrid Codification Processes: Imbricating Ideational
Codification into Empirical Codification 328
Displaying Nation-Terrorist Connections 330
Integrative Arguments Delivered to the American Public 331

16  ncoding the Prisoner’s Abuse Scandal333

E
Outbreak of the Abu Ghraib Scandal on CBS 60 Minutes II  333
Early Codification by the Bush Administration 335
Varied Codification by Republicans 338
Tentative Idea One: Technical, Systemic Failure to Blame 340
Tentative Idea Two: A Few Bad Soldiers to Blame 341
Varied Codification by Democrats 343
Tentative Idea One: Critiquing Anonymous Authorities and
Administrative Incompetence 345
Tentative Idea Two: The Fault of Secretary Rumsfeld 347
Policing the War on Terrorism Script Parameters 349

17  ncoding the Absence of Weapons of Mass Destruction355

E
Timeline of the Iraq Weapons Search Scandal 355
Tabulating Threat from Summative Capability 357
Tabulating Threat from Uncertain Signs 361
Stepwise Division in Constructing Threat 362
An Alternative Theory of Threat: Iraq’s Chaotic Environment  363
Further Extrapolations: Judgments Encoded in “the
Language of Washington” 367
The Hybrid Codification of Costs and Benefits 370
Demarcating the Causes and Nature of National Errors 372

18  Five-Tier Reflection377
A
Believability 377
Resilience 379
Adaptability 382
Developmental Potential 383
Ease of Use 384
 Contents  xix

19 Conclusion387
Idea System as a Matrix 387
Academic Recapitulations 389
A Three-Stage “Life Cycle” of Idea Systems 390
Basic Mechanisms of Idea Systems 391
Typologies and Mixtures of Idea Systems 393
Humanistic Recapitulations 396
Intensified Vestiges from Past to Present 396
The Limitation of Scientific and Rationalist Mentalities 398
Fair-Mindedness as a Thought Ability, Attitude, and
Principle 405

Index409
 About the Author

Gordon C. Chang (郑志达/鄭志達) is an associate professor in the

Department of Sociology and Anthropology at Western Illinois University.
His main areas of interest are theory and the sociology of knowledge.

xxi
 List of Figures

Fig. 2.1 Non-compact and compact symbolic structures 43

Fig. 4.1 An orbit with three potential explanations operating within
parameters of acceptable contradictions 103
Fig. 5.1 Three linear distortion dynamics 121
Fig. 9.1 An orbit with four potential explanations operating within
parameters of acceptable contradictions (regarding shortfalls in
the revolution) 207
Fig. 10.1 Steps of connection between events and meaning over the
coffin dilemma in The Little Red Guards (1992) 229
Fig. 11.1 Exclusive categories; nonexclusive categories; approximated
categories246
Fig. 15.1 Image display of an unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) spraying
simulated anthrax 324
Fig. 15.2 Incremental idea extension through multiple ambiguous signs 327
Fig. 15.3 Hybrid codification of Iraq’s threat 329
Fig. 16.1 An orbit with four potential explanations operating within
parameters of acceptable contradictions (regarding the Abu
Ghraib incident) 350
Fig. 17.1 Presentation of dual-use equipment in The Duelfer Report
(Volume 3, “Biological Warfare,” p. 31) 359
Fig. 17.2 Divided, stepwise construction of Iraq’s threat after ISG
codification363
Fig. 17.3 Orbit of potential explanations consisting Iraq’s threat 365

xxiii
 List of Tables

Table 2.1 The relative flexibility of evidence pertaining to witchcraft cases 46

Table 2.2 A simple theorization model based on sequential correlations 51
Table 2.3 Types of definitive and uncertain signs 62
Table 3.1 Eight levels of coherence-construction activities in witchcraft
cases66
Table 3.2 Ordering of questions in Mallelus Maleficarum84
Table 4.1 Polyphonic coherence between parallel voices, adapted from
Willumsen’s Witches of the North99
Table 5.1 Stepwise dynamics in prosecutions of extraordinary crimes 115
Table 8.1 A timeline of selected campaigns and events during the Mao
Era, in five phases 156
Table 8.2 Ideational codes in an overarching narrative of the Revolution 170
Table 8.3 A basic model of an ideational mode of codification 171
Table 8.4 Recalibration of fitted images after President Liu Shaoqi was
redefined as an enemy during the cultural revolution
campaign (1966–1969) 172
Table 8.5 Aggregate categorical filter and pre-filtered and post-filtered
realities177
Table 11.1 A collection of intermediary ideas, as elastic codes, in the
Little Red Book242
Table 11.2 Sequential equivalences with elastic categories and resulting
contradictions247
Table 11.3 A model of aggressive equivalences in the background theory
debate252
Table 14.1 The War on Terrorism script and its fitting images 302
Table 15.1 Arrangements of uncertain signs—and circumstantial
evidence—in Secretary Powell’s 2003 U.N. presentation 318

xxv
 CHAPTER 1

Introduction

一念天堂一念地狱
One Thought [Could Lead One To] Heaven;
One Thought [Could Lead One To] Hell.
失之毫厘 谬以千里
Miss a Centimeter; Wrong by a Thousand Miles

Ideas, by their nature, are prone to abuse.

Human beings, by their nature, are prone to abuse ideas.

Although this work can be read as a cross-disciplinary theory book, this

entire project originated from an interest in answering some key questions
about the human condition: Why do people end up doing what they do, and
why do things happen in society the way they do? An answer is sought through
an exploration of ideas.
Ideas shape the thought processes of entire societies. Powerful sets of
ideas provide the tools and methods that enable humans—groups of peo-
ple, not simply individuals—to travel much further and faster in thinking
than otherwise possible. In situations when ideologies and idealogues run
rampant or amok, extreme mass-scale social mishaps occasionally follow,
and in such unfortunate circumstances many efforts to contain these situ-
ations are rendered futile. This book utilizes three cases to demonstrate

© The Author(s) 2023 1

G. C. Chang, Revolution and Witchcraft,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-17682-1_1
2 G. C. CHANG

how ideologies, as idea systems, operate within the contexts of human soci-
eties and shape human behavior.
The first case (Chaps. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7) covers a variety of witch-hunt
movements in early modern Europe (1450 to 1750). It demonstrates a
model of an idea system that is highly evidentially driven (or factually or
empirically driven).
The second case (Chaps. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13) is the futuristic,
Communist Revolution led by Mao Zedong and his devoted followers in
China from 1949 to 1976. It demonstrates a model of an idea system that
is highly ideationally driven.
The third case (Chaps. 14, 15, 16, 17, and 18) is the U.S. War on
Terror from 2001 to 2004, a far-reaching but somewhat nebulous project
enacted by the George W. Bush administration. This case demonstrates a
model of an idea system that is an eclectic, but extremely well-­
integrated, hybrid.
Using these three examples as a guide, this book demonstrates how
slight differences in ideas, slowly but steadily accumulating, can misdirect
not only our lives’ trajectories but also whole societies’. Such differences
are not marked in the degree of logical rigor, in the quality of available
evidence, or in the techniques of its acquisition. They cannot be described
with simple dictums or maxims. These differences can be found in the
principles unveiled in this book pertaining to how whole idea systems work.
They can be found in the intricate codification decisions that people made
in real-life contentious contexts.1

The Spontaneous Formation of Ideological Ideas

Ideas proliferate wildly in today’s fast-paced public political discourse. A
condition of extreme openness seems to mark the circulation of ideas—an
openness that now includes ubiquitous manipulation. Pervasive and effi-
cient manipulations, paradoxically, could mean closing minds to any
objective truth while opening them to other possibilities. A guarding
mechanism against intellectual anarchy has been a liberal ethic of uncen-
sored public discourse and private deliberation. Conceptually, discursive
participants are encouraged to battle openly to expose and detail the
manipulative techniques used by others; audiences, for their part, are

1
Here, I am referring to the profound differences that lie between a centimeter and a
thousand miles, and between “heaven” and “hell” as referred to in the epigraph.
 1 INTRODUCTION 3

encouraged to take an active role in processing the ideas circulated, exer-

cising “critical” and “independent” thinking.
Mechanistically, this ethic of a self-policing public discourse falls short,
given the professional, systematic manipulation operating on a massive
scale and the broad social range constituting the public. With the appear-
ance of almost every new controversy, people’s ideas have converged, rap-
idly falling into mutually segregated camps. Actors on every side can
quickly draw upon a reservoir of information, worldviews, and expressions
that are loosely but systematically organized. Furthermore, there are often
exemplary figures who comprehend the whole scale, the most compelling
aspects, and the most dexterous uses of all resources within that reservoir.
Certain figures—such as those who have exclusive informational and insti-
tutional access—could even exert disproportionate control over what
flows into the reservoir. Even though most participants feel they are equal
participants or active players in the discourses—including in the domain of
idea manipulation and defense against manipulation—their roles and their
ideas seem somewhat limited, or even predestined. It is easiest to build
their ideas within established systems—and those systems are already
partly designed and coordinated. Any attempt to depart from the system
will be harder, thus positioning the individual to be much less equipped—
and much too slow—to best other idea circulators in fast-paced conflicts.2
The ways people are manipulated into generating particular ideas with
a great deal of spontaneity and free will—rigorously and passionately—
relate to the contemporary and historical puzzle of “ideology.” Ideologies
have never merely been small, private opinions; they are highly meaningful
ideas—associated with methods of thinking and speaking, as well as emo-
tional conduct and ways of living3—that potentially bind, divide, and
motivate various institutions and collectives—especially affecting social
changes during critical times. In crucial ways, ideologies condition the

2
For a discussion of how the current mode of public political discourse is mediated by
“mediatization,” or what David Altheide calls “media syndrome,” in which the public is
profoundly constricted and manipulated, see David Altheide, The Media Syndrome (London
and New York: Routledge, 2016); Caja Thimm, Mario Anastasiadis, and Jessica Einspänner-
Pflock, eds. Media Logic(s) Revisited: Modelling the Interplay between Media Institutions,
Media Technology and Societal Change (Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018).
3
“Ideologies are Symbolic, Affective, Behavioral, and Relational.” Gary Alan Fine and
Kent Sandstrom, “Ideology in Action: A Pragmatic Approach to a Contested Concept,”
Sociological Theory 11, no. 1 (March 1993), 21.
4 G. C. CHANG

realities and relations in which people live.4 Cultural theorist Fredric

Jameson recently declared: “I will need to say why Ideology… subsumes
everything else in culture and the superstructures, assuming the position
that religion once held for the first historians and cultural theoreticians of
the West.”5
The techniques to create ideological control and conformity are advanc-
ing with increased experience and the technological means utilized by
those who practice them. Traditional academic frameworks and approaches,
conversely, seem to have run into a point of limitation. They are still use-
ful, but they are not quite sufficient and a little too incohesive to deal with
the increasingly complex ideologies generated by manipulative social
actors at accelerated speed and given the current amount of informational
backing. In fact, they might even be insufficient to deal with the ideologies
of the past. The major point of limitation, I contend, is methodological
and theoretical and intimately related to operationalization.

Scholarly Engagements with “Ideology”

Discourse theorist Teun van Dijk has formulated the most encompassing,
cross-disciplinary scholarly definition I have yet encountered:

ideology is something like a shared framework of social beliefs that organize

and coordinate the social interpretations and practices of groups and their
members, and in particular also power and other relations between groups.

Under this umbrella definition, there have been at least three very dif-
ferent, ideal-typical scholarly engagements of ideology in the academic
literature.6

4
Cf. Slavoj Žižek, The Sublime Object of Ideology (London: Verso, 1989); Masao Miyoshi,
Trespasses: Selected Writings (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2010), 127–150,
243–252.
5
Fredric Jameson, Allegory and Ideology (London and New York: Verso, 2020), ix. As early
as in the 1980s, Jameson has been concerned with the “operationalization” problem with
regard to ideology and proposed semiotic approaches in solving the problem. Fredric
Jameson, foreword to On Meaning: Selected Writings in Semiotic Theory, by Algirdas Julien
Greimas, trans. Paul J. Perron and Frank H. Collins (Minneapolis, MN: University of
Minnesota Press, 1987).
6
For a brief survey of the field, see Terry Eagleton, Ideology: An Introduction (London and
New York: Verso, 1991); John B. Thompson, Studies in the Theory of Ideology (Berkeley and
Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press, 1984); John B. Thompson, Ideology and
Modern Culture (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press 1991), 28–73.
 1 INTRODUCTION 5

The first type of engagement, exemplified by Karl Marx’s usage of the

concept, embeds a clear mission of social critique. “Ideology” is a value-­
laden, pejorative term; it is something to be negated. In the view of Marx,
the dominant classes meticulously construct and sustain ideas that ensure
their own class interests. These ideas span the realms of economy, law,
morality, politics, and culture. Intellectuals are often co-constructors of
these ideas, but the masses typically give their consent and some even do
so enthusiastically. The Marxian tradition has set the trend to define ideol-
ogy as ideas and representations that are organized to mask truths, per-
petuate falsehoods, enable power subjugation, conquer others, or
combinations of the above. 7 Scholars in the traditions of cultural studies,
post-Marxism, neo-Marxism, and critical theories paradigmatically seek to
unveil economic, colonial, religious, political, and cultural ideologies that
hinder societal liberation and potential.8 Reflecting or critiquing “ideolo-
gies” is their endeavor to improve social conditions by helping society
resolve contradictions via philosophical reflection and praxis.9
A second type of engagement deliberately deals with ideology in a non-­
pejorative and non-evaluative way. This “neutral conception” of ideology
is synonymous with “‘systems of thought’, ‘systems of belief’ or ‘symbolic
systems’ which pertain to social action or political practice.” 10 Supposedly
this is the original meaning of ideology, as coined by French thinker
Antoine Destutt de Tracy in 1796 to refer to his vision of a new science
that would “[regulate] society in such a way that [humans find] there the
most help and the least possible annoyance from [their] own kind.”11

7
For example, see Karl Marx, A Critique of the German Ideology, trans. and ed. Salomea
W. Ryazanskaya (Moscow, RU: Progress Publishers, [1845–1846]1968), republished by
Marxists Internet Archive in 2000: https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/
download/Marx_The_German_Ideology.pdf; Karl Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis
Bonaparte, trans. Saul K. Padover and Daniel de Leon (Chicago, IL: Charles H. Kerr &
Company, [1851–1852]1907), republished by Project Gutenberg (Salt Lake City, UT) on
Feb 19, 2006 (EBook #1346): https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1346/1346-h/1346-h.htm
8
For example, see Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment,
trans. Edmund Jephcott. Stanford: Stanford University Press. [1947] 2002; Herbert
Marcuse, One-Dimensional Man: Studies in Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society, 2nd Ed.
London: Routledge, [1964]1991); Nannerl Keohane, Michelle Z. Rosaldo, and Barbara
C. Gelpi, eds., Feminist Theory: A Critique of Ideology (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago
Press, 1983); Žižek, The Sublime Object of Ideology.
9
John B. Thompson, Studies in the Theory of Ideology (Berkeley and Los Angeles, CA:
University of California Press, 1984) 1, 141–142.
10
John B. Thompson, Ideology and Modern Culture (Stanford, CA: Stanford University
Press, 1980), 5.
11
Cited in Thompson, Ideology and Modern Culture, 30.
6 G. C. CHANG

Every set of philosophical ideas, as well as cohesive moral or spiritual

beliefs used toward organizing social-cultural relations more generally,
would fit under this neutral conception.12 Scholars could be studying the
“ideology” of a group without meaning to criticize the ideas of any par-
ticular actor or institution as problematic. One can see ideology as poten-
tially offering both positive and negative functions.13
The third type of engagement—and probably the largest and most
underacknowledged—does not use the term ideology at all (or does so
only sparingly) but actually engages with ideology in theorization, cri-
tiques, or empirical inquiries. The works by Michel Foucault, Edward Said,
Pierre Bourdieu, Jean Baudrillard, Dorothy Smith, Patricia Hill Collins,
and Stuart Hall are prominent examples in the field of social theory.14 So
too are the many scholarly and practical studies that substantively address
how certain sets of developed ideas are linked to the development of soci-
etal power, which in turn shapes social formations and institutions.15

12
A few exemplary works that employ this notion of ideology include Clifford Geertz,
“Ideology as a Cultural System,” in Interpretation of Cultures, 193–233; Umberto Eco, A
Theory of Semiotics (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press), 292–297; Michael Freeden,
ed., The Meaning of Ideology: Cross-Disciplinary Perspectives (London and New York:
Routledge, 2007); Susan Gal and Judith T. Irvine, Signs of Difference: Language and Ideology
in Social Life (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2019).
13
Michael Freeden, Ideology: A Very Short Introduction (New York and Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2003).
14
Stuart Hall, Encoding and Decoding in the Television Discourse (Birmingham, UK: Centre
for Contemporary Cultural Studies, 1973); Edward W. Said, Orientalism (New York:
Pantheon Books, 1978); Michel Foucault, Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other
Writings 1972–1977, ed. Colin Gordon, trans. Colin Gordon, Leo Marshall, John Mepham,
and Kate Soper (New York: Pantheon Books, 1980); Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and
Simulation (Los Angeles, CA: Semiotext(e), 1983); Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist
Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness and the Politics of Empowerment (New York and London:
Routledge, 1990); Dorothy. E. Smith, The Conceptual Practices of Power: A Feminist Sociology
of Knowledge (Boston, MA: Northeastern University Press, 1990); Pierre Bourdieu,
Language and Symbolic. Power. Pierre Bourdieu, ed. John B. Thompson, trans. Gino
Raymond and Matthew Adamson (Cambridge, UK: Polity Press, 1991); Miyoshi, Trespasses.
15
For example, Vijay Prashad, The Darker Nations: A People’s History of the Third World
(New York: The New Press, 2008); Arlie R. Hochschild, Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger
and Mourning on the American Right (New York: The New Press, 2016); David H. Price,
Cold War Anthropology (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2016); Barbara
J. Risman, Where the Millennials Will Take Us: A New Generation Wrestles with the Gender
Structure (New York: Oxford University Press, 2018); Bennetta Jules-Rosette and J.R. Osborn,
African Art Reframed: Reflections and Dialogues on Museum Culture (Chicago, IL: University
of Illinois Press, 2020); Ruth Wodak, The Politics of Fear: The Shameless Normalization of Far-
Right Discourse, 2nd Edition (London, UK: SAGE Publications Ltd, 2020).
 1 INTRODUCTION 7

Diverse definitions and engagement approaches are not problems in

themselves.
One practical problem is, however, present for all scholars: ideology is
a concept that is hard to operationalize in an analysis. When “ideology” is
grasped through its individual elements, empirically or theoretically, we
often cease to look at it as a whole but instead as truncated parts. While
ideology can be easily referred to as a holistic entity, it is of limited use in
scholarship if we can only interact with and think of it as a conflated whole.
This is a “gestalt problem” related to cognition and to sociology at large.16
While the production and distribution of ideologies in the field of practice
are hardly curtailed by this scholarly hurdle, this problem causes dulls and
stalls many scholarly efforts.

Utilities of a System Perspective

The use of a system metaphor (or a system perspective) is a way to opera-
tionalize ideology in social research and analysis. To be sure, a system
metaphor is not always the most suitable tool for such analysis. Some occa-
sions call for scholars to identify hidden ideologies or critique existing
ones in broad terms rather than analyze their mechanics. A system meta-
phor is most useful after the initial stage of recognition. It excels in help-
ing us make sense of the organizational aspects of ideologies and to
delineate the time, place, and manner of ideological activation. This is
preferable for scholars who wish to view ideologies from the perspective of
a designer or practitioner. A vehicle driver or seller needs only to deal with
an automobile as a whole, whereas a mechanic or anyone who is seeking
to fix a car would find it more beneficial to know how the entire vehicle is
constructed through its component parts. Previous scholarly works have
enabled us to develop a method to empirically examine the specific, orga-
nizational aspects of ideology.17

16
I am simply using this term exploratively, in the way that scholars in other disciplines
have done. For example, see Anton Amann, “The Gestalt Problem in Quantum Theory:
Generation of Molecular Shape by the Environment,” Synthese, 97, no. 1 (October 1993),
125–156.
17
Discourse studies, as a field, excel at these efforts. For an example, see Gunther Kress and
Robert Hodge, Language as Ideology (London, UK and Boston, MA: Routledge and Kegan
Paul, 1979); Teun A. van Dijk, Ideology: A Multidisciplinary Approach (London, Thousand
Oaks, and New Delhi: SAGE Publications, 1998); Paul Chilton: Analysing Political Discourse:
Theory and Practice (Routledge, 2004); Teun A. van Dijk, Discourse and Knowledge. A
Sociocognitive Approach (Cambridge University Press, 2014).
8 G. C. CHANG

The initial problem concern which motivated my adoption of a system

perspective arose from a ubiquity of ideological content. During early
moments of my research, my inquiries were repeatedly curtailed by an
inability to clearly delineate causal relationships between ideology and
social relations, for almost every historical account of the Great European
Witch Hunts offers a wealth of materials related to “ideology”—religious,
gender, class-based, national, local, legal, folk ideas, and so forth. In light
of such ubiquity, it becomes difficult to discern what elements do not
obtain an ideological character. Consequently, it is challenging to concep-
tualize which factors were stimulating or mitigating the extreme dynamics
during the witch hunts; counteracting movements were also powered by
some form of ideology.18 This problem could be analogized to a fish that
cannot see the specific properties of the water (the oxygen level, microbes,
pollutants, etc.) that is assisting or stunting its development. It is one
thing to reveal a hidden ideology that people are unaware of—which pre-
vious scholars tend to emphasize—and another one entirely that people
can see it everywhere but yet cannot delineate any problematic elements
“hidden” in it. The system metaphor then emerged, which can serve sev-
eral functions to help resolve the research problems.

Considering the Dynamic Part-Whole Relations

In an ideology, multiple subcomponents have a fluctuating presence and
relevance. Their effects and significance are not constant, and their appear-
ances are always intermixed with the shifting presence of other subcompo-
nents.19 We should therefore strive to specify (or argue) which particular
parts (mechanisms) were the most salient—or could potentially be salient—
in causing an effect at a given time (when those parts exist in combinative
forms with many other ones). The same electric capacitor may serve the
same function for a vehicle; yet the same cannot be said of words or a chess

For discussion, see George Steinmetz, “Odious Comparisons: Incommensurability, the

18

Case Study, and ‘Small N’s’ in Sociology.” Sociological Theory 22, no. 3 (September 2004),
371–400; James Mahoney, “Comparative-Historical Methodology,” Annual Review of
Sociology 30 (2004), 81–101; James Mahoney and Gary Goertz, “A Tale of Two Cultures:
Contrasting Quantitative and Qualitative Research,” Political Analysis 14, no. 3 (June
2006), 227–249. Jon Elster, Explaining Social Behavior: More Nuts and Bolts for the Social
Sciences (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 1–54.
19
Any signs (phrases, information, physical expressions) can shift in their meanings
depending on the much more holistic representational contexts as well as the specific inter-
actional situations in which the signs are placed. Harold Garfinkel, “Ethnomethodological
Misreading of Aron Gurwitsch on the Phenomenal Field: Sociology 271, UCLA 4/26/93,”
eds. Clemens Eisenmann and Michael Lynch, Human Studies 44, no. 1 (April 2021), 19–42.
 1 INTRODUCTION 9

move. The part-whole relations, in other words, are far more slippery and
fluctuating.
Nonetheless, these dynamic, fluid part-whole relations can be discov-
ered and illustrated to some extent. A pragmatic-linguist can analyze word
usage in context; a chess-game analyst can explain the relevance of each
player’s moves in the context of a game. Scholars also can sketch out the
shape of a running system of ideas that has many divisive parts while also,
at the same time, studying the dynamic processes in which particular acts
of activation are engaged. One effort this book has made is to present the
analysis in a structural form (through visual diagrams and displays), along-
side on-the-ground, situated structuring processes, to make the system
and its operational logic clear, visible, and intelligible.20

Delineating Causal Relationships

Once we can see how an ideology is organized, we can determine which
parts of the components or organizing processes have led to an outcome.
Consequently, we can conduct more careful considerations about causa-
tion.21 To use the analogy of a fish again, we can move away from judging
whether “water” in general—or a specific pool of water—is good or bad
for the fish, to the question of analyzing why this is the case.22 Suppose the

20
This analytical style has been developed in qualitative sociology with a constructionist
orientation—and theorized in the field of ethnomethodology in extremely thorough, inter-
esting ways. For an introduction of ethnomethodology’s program and efforts to unpack
seemingly enduring social structures and their structuring processes, see Anne Rawls,
“Editor’s Introduction,” in Harold Garfinkel, Ethnomethodology’s Program: Working Out
Durkheim’s Aphorism (Lanham, MD: Roman & Littlefield Publishers, 2002), 20–25; Hugh
Mehan, “Structuring School Structure,” Harvard Educational Review, 48 (February 1978),
32–64; Hugh Mehan, Alma Hertweck, and J. Lee Meihls, Handicapping the Handicapped:
Decision Making in Students’ Educational Careers (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press,
1986). For a discussion of the connection between ethnomethodology and textual and dis-
course analysis, see Stefan Titscher, Michael Meyer, Ruth Wodak, and Eva Vetter, “Two
Ethnomethodologically Oriented Methods of Text Analysis: Membership Categorization
Device Analysis and Conversation Analysis,” in Methods of Text and Discourse Analysis
(London: Sage Publications, 2000), 104–124.
21
In addition to efforts at identifying cultural causes, it also includes various attempts to
explore the topics of agency, contingency, and event causation. David R. Gibson, Talk at the
Brink: Deliberation and Decision During the Cuban Missile Crisis (Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press, 2012); Robin Wagner Pacific, Theorizing the Standoff: Contingency in
Action (New York and Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2000).
22
On the other hand, inadequately breaking things down into disembodied variables (i.e.,
disembodied from the context of a system) can cause another problem, which is to yield a
choppy picture of causality, in which every variable is assumed to have causal effects.
10 G. C. CHANG

Chinese Communist Revolution has led to both gains and shortfalls, and
we want to know why. We can thus dissect and assess the relative role of
different ideologies’ constitutive components and processes, weighing
them against other ones. Although this book does not address this ques-
tion very explicitly, readers can compare the roles of several factors (vari-
ables): (a) the content of the ideology (i.e., the Communist vision); (b)
Mao’s personal leadership; (c) the Party’s bureaucratic structure after the
Revolution; (d) the upper-leadership of the Party; (e) specific government
policy; (f) the material conditions of the nation; (g) the cognitive, discur-
sive institutions present; (h) the agency of the masses (the peasants and the
working class); and (i) external factors. We can consider which of the fac-
tors (mechanisms)—in which interactive combinations with one another
and when—play which kind of role. After doing so, we could more confi-
dently determine which of the above variables seem to play the role of a
root cause—a cause which has a primacy that influences other ones in lead-
ing to positive or negative outcomes—the roles of conditional, peripheral,
catalytic, or inhibitive causes. Each of these “variables,” such as “cogni-
tive, discursive institutions,” could further be broken down or not,
depending on the analytical argument.
These procedures can prove useful beyond formal academic analyses.
Many individuals and groups commit their politics, morality, and actions
in accordance with the ways that they attribute causation. Many ideologi-
cal actors can even mobilize targets by suggesting causal linkages. By clari-
fying our vision of the ideology and delineating its components and
processes, we can understand how actors manipulate social views regard-
ing causal relationships with greater precision.

Identifying Situated, Competent, Artfulness Ideological Works

By applying our understanding of the intricate configurations of an idea
system, we can better evaluate the artfulness of different social actions in
context. In particular, we can interpret their significance in the context of
a rather long chain of actions or interactions within a dynamic, large-scale
system whose conditions change over time. Indeed, ideological construc-
tions and activations are not performed in isolation, but are rather chained
together in collaborative processes involving multiple actors over time.
For example, an accuser in a witch trial may later use codified language to
describe an event as evidence, then respond to counter-evidence, and sub-
sequently become involved in one or more other witch trials. Although
the topic itself may be said to encompass the beliefs of a codified system,
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
him, evidently intending to try and pacify him, but the old fellow
persisted in screaming and threatening. Again I put my hand in my
pocket, with as good a result as before.
The Khalifa and the Sheikh awaited me in their dwelling, and after
a little conversation with them, and a stroll in their company through
the lanes, and to visit some of the dwellings, I ordered the horses to
be saddled.
As I set foot in the stirrup, the Khalifa came forward with a
mouflon horn, which he begged me to accept. It was the same that I
had seen in the mosque. My guide had evidently told tales out of
school.

A HALT IN THE DESERT—TENT OF A TRIBAL CHIEF.

When we had descended into the valley I turned and looked up.
Near the Khalifa’s house stood some white burnous-clad figures. I
waved a farewell, and saw a couple of arms flourished in reply.
So, by the same path, we rode back to Tatuin. The goats on the
mountains were now grazing amongst the rocks.
My horse was fidgety, and the flies worrying him made him
constantly toss his head. I was careless, and he struck me a blow on
the right hand, causing it to swell, and compelling me to carry it in a
sling; and thus I had to ride for several days.
After riding hard for full five hours, we reached Tatuin a little
before sunset. Lieutenant Adam had arrived there with his company,
and a great surprise also awaited me.
 CHAPTER XV

The Tuareg

I dismounted at the office of the Intelligence Department. In the

archway a number of burnous-clad men waited to be admitted into
the office, where the interpreter, M. Grosset-Grange, and Lieutenant
Donau were at work.
My eyes roved over the crowd of waiting men, who hailed from far
and near. They were fine types, all wrapped in white or grey cloaks.
Then I started, for on the stone bench sat—yes, by Jove!—two
stalwart figures, with black kerchiefs wound round about their faces,
so that only their fine eyes were visible, most of the nose and a little
of the forehead being covered. Their light brown complexions
surprised me.
Below their white garments appeared bare legs and sandalled
feet, and, if I am not mistaken, they wore light blue trousers. A tuft of
black hair protruded above the dark head-covering. They were
evidently Tuareg.
Lieutenant Donau came out to receive me. Pointing to the two
men, I ejaculated, “Tuareg?”
“Yes, certainly,” he said with a smile.
I seated myself on a bench opposite to them, while Donau fetched
the interpreter, so that between them they might interrogate the
Tuareg. At first I could not realise that I indeed sat peacefully face to
face with the dreaded sons of the desert, and that I should have the
luck to take home for our National Museum their costume and
equipment. It seemed too good to be true.
 A TUAREG.

“Do you think I shall be able to buy their clothes?” I asked the
interpreter.
“It will be very difficult to manage,” he replied. “The Tuareg are
suspicious, and will not understand that anyone would sooner buy
their old rags than fine clothes, such as you wear. Besides, similar
costumes are not to be had here, and they will not like to return
home in ordinary Arab dress.”
“Very well, tell them I am a stranger from a distant country, who
has come here to see whether my people may not be of the same
origin as theirs. Tell them I should be glad if I could take their
costume with me to show to my countrymen. I will pay for them more
than their value, or, if they will not take money for them, I will
undertake to send them corn by caravan from Gabés, for I know that
they have been unable to buy any here.”
The interpreter then began the lengthy and tough transaction.
It then transpired that one of the two, Akhemed-uld-Bai, spoke
Arabic, but not so his compatriot, Mohammed-ben-Mohammed. The
conversation therefore took time.
First I addressed the interpreter in French, he then translated
what I had said into Arabic for Akhemed, who again repeated it in the
Berber language to Mohammed.
After the matter had been thoroughly discussed by the pair, the
reply was returned in the same way.
They informed us that they belonged to the “Foghass” section of
the Azgu tribe of Tuareg. But though the name of Akhemed-uld-Bai
had the true Tuareg ring, as much could hardly be said for his
companion’s patronymic. Their proper home was on the farther side
of Rhadamés.
When they learnt that I was anxious to become the possessor of
their property, both of them stared at me long and fixedly, after which
they consulted together for a while. Then Akhemed began to divest
himself of his white “Tuat” burnous, for which we bargained. As I
gave him what he asked, his other garments soon followed, and bit
by bit he stripped himself, until he was actually clothed in nothing but
a scanty shirt, or under-tunic, and the black veil, of which the lower
part concealed his mouth.
A Tuareg never exposes his mouth before others so long as he
can avoid doing so; it would be a breach of propriety.
But in the presence of foreigners they had evidently less regard
for decorum than they would have had before their own people. Now
and then Akhemed, as he talked, dragged the kerchief away from
the lower part of his face, and I saw the handsome well-formed
beardless mouth and white teeth. Whether he were shaved I know
not; but it is said that the Tuareg do not care for beards, and
therefore shave.
 When he rose to take off his clothes, his fine muscular form
towered above all those present; a truly herculean specimen, he was
some six feet high, sparely but splendidly built.
His costume was as follows:—
A shirt-like under-tunic (akhebaïl), above it a grey patterned tunic
with short white sleeves that came from the Sudan (taiden).
Trousers, which were wide at the top and narrow below; they
reached half-way down the calf (kortebba).
Sandals (ghetimèn) of tooled leather, with crossed latchets that
passed between the toes and fastened round the ankle.
A long, narrow black veil, used to enwrap the head. This veil is
furnished in two places with a broad flap; one serves to cover the
forehead, the other the lower part of the face. The crown of the head
is left bare, and shows above the veil a black tuft of hair (tadilmus).
Outside the veil a long piece of white material is rolled turban-wise,
but so arranged that the veil shows both above and beneath it (ash
shash).
Over this dress is worn an ordinary light wrap, a “haik” from Tuat
(kheiki).
The costume was completed by three square amulet cases (tira)
made of tin, and apparently fashioned out of old sardine boxes. They
hung by leathern strings on the man’s breast and outside his clothes.
Supposing that these cases contained inscriptions in the Berber
language, I was very anxious to get possession of them. But all my
endeavours in this respect were unsuccessful. Akhemed would not
part with them. He declared that to him they were worth more than
the value of a camel. He had bought them from a Marabout, they
protected him from danger and misfortune, and since he had
possessed them no ill had befallen him.
“Then sell me the cord and the cases and keep your amulet.”
For a high price he agreed to this, but I could not get permission
to see the contents. Next morning he brought and handed over to
me an unsoldered case.
 When there was no more to be bought from this man, I turned to
his companion.
His costume differed little from the other, so I did not trouble about
it, but on the wrist of his left hand was an embroidered leather ring,
and the same hand grasped the hilt of a dagger (tilek).
The Tuareg always carry one of these in the left sleeve, so
disposed that the point is turned up the sleeve, whilst the sheath lies
along under the forearm, and is secured by a sewn band which is
slipped over the wrist. The handle of the dagger is cross-shaped and
bound with brass wire. The dagger is therefore, very evidently and
literally, handy.
I bought it and a large leather bag (agherid), made apparently of
antelope or gazelle hide. Through holes on the edges of the bag
were drawn leather thongs, which again were made fast with a very
peculiar iron lock. This is the only lockfast receptacle owned by the
Tuareg, for they rarely possess even a chest (senduk), as do the
Arabs.
Of other weapons they had none, though the Tuareg generally
carry spears, but rarely swords, bows and arrows, or shields.
Next I bought one of their light smart saddles for riding the
dromedary (mehari). The saddle has a broad cantle at the back, and
that in front, though narrower, is also high and terminates in a cross.
The cross is often found in Tuareg ornaments, and, as I show by
an illustration in my book called Algiers and the Sahara, is supposed
to be a relic of the time when this people were Christians and
inhabited the more northern regions whence they were driven by the
Arabs.
All the wearing apparel that I purchased was, according to the
vendors’ account, manufactured by Tuareg or brought from the
Sudan.
The price of each article was named in piastres, and the
interpreter having added up the total, I paid in francs, without the
Tuareg overlooking the account, their trust in the interpreter being so
entire. A sign of their confidence in the French.
 M. Grosset-Grange told me that these two Tuareg examined all
that was novel to them just like children. That when they entered his
room they at first stood dumfoundered, then touched and examined
everything. The system by which the window was closed and bolted
was carefully investigated, and pleased them much. The handle of
the bolt chanced to be decorated with the representation of a man’s
head, and the Tuareg naïvely asked, “Is that your father?”
Commandant Billet told me many amusing anecdotes of these
children of nature, who are so sober and abstemious in their daily
life, and who can subsist for days in the desert almost without food.
Once a “Targui” (the singular of Tuareg) happened to come to him
at one of the stations. “Are you hungry?” asked the commandant.
Yes, it was long since he had tasted food; so an enormous
quantity was set before him, enough to have satisfied six or seven
ordinary folk. When he had consumed all this he went to see a
captain, by whom he was as generously treated. One might have
supposed that he would then be satisfied; but no, half an hour later
the insatiable son of the desert called on a third official, and again
complained bitterly of hunger, and was fed with a couple of dishes of
“kus-kus.”
It is inconceivable how any one man could swallow so much food,
but probably it had never before fallen to his lot to fully satisfy his
appetite.
Apparently the Tuareg are at present anxious to keep on friendly
terms with the French. On several occasions small caravans have
travelled as far as the southern stations of Tunisia, most of them
certainly with a view to trade, mais enfin, it is always a move in the
right direction, which, prudently encouraged, may lead farther.
It would be to the signal advantage of the French that the old
caravan road to the Sahara should be reopened, so that traffic from
Rhadamés could proceed direct to Gabés or other towns of Tunisia,
instead of, as now, viâ Tripoli. The chief impediment at present lies in
the fact that the caravans, not being permitted to carry slaves, are
not profitable. The baskets, leather goods, weapons, etc., which the
last caravans brought with them—though in small quantities—were
disposed of with difficulty in Tatuin and Medinin, which will not tend
to induce them to make another trial.
No; that traffic through the Sahara may be remunerative, slavery
is essential. In fact, so long as slavery continues to flourish in Tripoli,
so long will the stream of trade flow that way.

A TUAREG.

Neither does slavery appear so terrible at close quarters as it

does when read of in heartrending romances in the style of Uncle
Tom’s Cabin. The truth is, that slaves are well treated everywhere in
the East, so well that even if given their freedom, as they were by
decree in Tunisia, they, as a rule, remain in their master’s house.
The transport across the desert is, indeed, full of horrors, but
when once arrived at their destination the slaves do not suffer from
want—quite otherwise.
Amongst the caravans that came to Tatuin in 1893 was one in
charge of two nephews of Aissa, the Tuareg Sheikh who rules over
the tribe of “Imaughasat.”[4]
The elder of these, named Uan Titi, brought a letter to the officer
in command of the military station at Tatuin, in which he reclaimed
several camels and a negress robbed from the Tuareg by the tribe of
Uderma.
As it was politic to show a friendly disposition, the camels were
forthcoming at once, though they were probably bought; but it was
otherwise with regard to the negress, who was a cause of great
perplexity.
According to law, every slave is free who sets foot on territory
under French control, consequently nothing could be done.
That the Tuareg were afraid of again coming to blows with the
tribe of Uderma, is evident from the fact that the Tuareg Sheikh had
written to the Khalifa of Duirat to beg him to take care that the
emissaries went no farther north than Tatuin, and had also taken the
precaution of ascertaining whether absolute peace prevailed in
Uderma.
Uan Titi spoke of the latest French explorers, Foureau and Méry,
who travelled last winter in the Sahara. He had conducted the first
named, who, however, had not reached Rhadamés. Méry had spent
some time with the Azgu tribe from whom the Imaughasat had then
separated themselves. They now camp together and are fairly united
under their Sheikh Aissa, but they still have some “duars” near
“Rhat.”
According to Uan Titi’s account, the highroads in the Sahara pass
Fezzan, Rhadamés, and Tuat. That by Rhadamés may be
considered the most important.
The Tuareg, amongst whom perfect peace reigns at present,
come to Rhadamés from the southern regions to escort the caravans
and to supply camels for hire.
 It is rare, however, for them to go farther than Tripoli or than
Southern Tunisia.
The Turks in Tripoli refuse, of course, to acknowledge French rule
in Tunisia; and as the people of Rhadamés are mainly Berbers under
Turkish administration, these do all in their power to destroy the little
trade there is with the French territories of Duirat, Tatuin, Medinin,
and beyond them to Gabés.
For the moment the Tuareg place no obstacles in the way of
persons who venture to travel from the Duirat mountains through the
desert to Rhadamés; so the route is open, but no one who is
supposed to have the slightest relations with the French is allowed to
enter the oasis.
The traveller who desires to visit this town, which in the time of the
Romans had constant intercourse with the coast, must start from
Tripoli; if he has letters of recommendation from the authorities there,
he is sure to be admitted; the journey on camel back is wearisome
and even distressing through the heat and lack of water, but of
danger there is none—for the present—the Tuareg not being
camped by the roads in any appreciable numbers.
The French authorities have done all they could to establish
peaceful relations with Rhadamés and to explore the southern
frontier. Officers have reconnoitered the country from the southern
mountains to far into the desert. Commandant Billet in person has
ridden through the mountains as far as the Tunisian frontier. On one
of these expeditions he visited the ruins of a very ancient village in
the mountains, known as “Ksar Uni,” which lies eighty miles south of
Tatuin.
An interpreter who spoke Arabic like a native, and who was,
further, a Mohammedan, was sent to the desert not long since to
endeavour to penetrate as far as Rhadamés. His mission failed
entirely. He was robbed, imprisoned in Rhadamés, and sent to
Tripoli, from whence, after much difficult negotiation, his release was
obtained.
 West of the Matmata mountains and south of the belt of shotts is
a steppe where are found a number of small wells, but south again
of this and as far as Rhadamés is an almost waterless desert, barren
and waste and very dangerous to cross. A few earlier travellers may
possibly have passed through it, but in March and February of this
year the desert was traversed by two French officers, under such
marvellous conditions that I cannot refrain from giving an account of
their journey, exactly as I heard it related by Major Gausset in
Gabés.
Lieutenant Dumas of the Spahis (now captain of the 6th
Chasseurs at Oran), and Lieutenant Cazemajou of the Engineers,
both courageous and determined men, who feared neither exposure
to the elements nor the sufferings of hunger and thirst, determined
on trying to make their way secretly from Nafta, by the shott and
through the desert, to Rhadamés. Well aware that a request for
permission to travel during the difficulties in connection with the
frontier would be refused by their superiors, they only asked for
leave to take a trip to Algiers. This was granted without suspicion
being aroused, and, accompanied by a guide, they disappeared in
the desert, both in Arab dress and mounted on camels.
After a dangerous and fatiguing ride they drew near to Rhadamés,
and were already rejoicing over the happy termination of their
journey; but no sooner had they reached the gates than they were
driven off like dogs, their lives were menaced, and they were
compelled to retreat.
Their coming had been announced by some Marabout whose
kubba they had passed shortly before arriving at the town.
There was nothing to be done but to return as quickly as possible,
which they did; but as they thought it possible that they might be
pursued and attacked on their homeward way, they took another
route, where water was very scarce, and with which none of them
were acquainted.
After incredible exertions and having suffered much from hunger
and thirst—they were reduced at the last to a little chocolate with
which to allay the pangs of hunger—they succeeded in reaching
home.
Their journey was, of course, to a great extent a failure, but they
had reconnoitered an unknown country and proved themselves to be
a couple of exceptionally energetic, brave men. They resumed their
duty in silence, but a rumour of their exploit leaked out and reached
the ear of the General. He demanded an explanation, with the result
that they received a slight official reprimand—soon shaken off.
Since Duveyrier undertook his memorable journey, of which the
brilliant results are related in his book, Les Touaregs du Nord, no
one probably has dedicated himself so entirely to a desert life as
Cornitz, a young Swiss, of whom the officers in the south spoke in
the highest terms.
This man, who appears to be a thinker and philosopher of no
mean order, came for the first time to Southern Tunisia some years
ago, in order to study the mode of life and opinions of the Bedouins.
He was so charmed with their nomad existence that he returned
every year for three years. He dressed as they did, and lived
amongst them in the desert, and, under equal conditions, shared in
the joys and sorrows of their tent life, their hunts and their boundless
horizon. But the time came when even this did not satisfy him, so he
purchased palm trees, a house and a herd, and settled down in the
town of Duz to the west of the Matmata and south of the shotts.
To enable him to take long journeys to the south, he bought two
“mehari” (chameaux coureurs) and practised the difficult art of riding
them. After eight days’ hard exertion he could ride as well as any
“Targui.”
He then travelled with his flocks, or alone, in the south as far as
Rhadamés, but neither was he able to gain admittance to that town.
While on this journey he completed the French map.
Each year, after a visit home, he returned. The last time, in May
1893, that he travelled home he passed through Gabés, where he
was struck down with fever and was very ill. The French officers
begged him to go into the military hospital, but he declined their
offers and started for the north. During my stay in the south I was
told that he had written to one of the Khalifas that he would soon
return to visit his herds, left in charge of an Arab, and to again
resume his life in the desert.
“Il est un peu original, mais très intelligent,” the officers at Gabés
said of him.
In truth, there are many who are attracted by the free life that is
led under tents, where no one need fear troubling his neighbour,
since space is unlimited.
If one place is unpleasing, you move to another—laying your tents
on camels and vaulting into the saddle, you drive your flocks and
herds onwards, ever onwards, for the horizon has no limit.
Whilst dwelling on the men who rove in the alluring, mysterious
desert, which has engulfed so many in its deadly embrace, my
thoughts turn to an evening at Gabés, when, after my return from the
south I sat in the guest-room of the “Hotel de l’Oasis” and refreshed
myself after my exhausting ride.
The landlord, M. Saissy, a man of about fifty, was setting in order
the tables, after the guests, who were mostly officers, had left. I was
the only one who remained and trifled with a cigar and a glass of
beer to pass away the time before retiring to bed.
I was absorbed in thought and long remained so—so long,
indeed, that M. Saissy probably concluded it was time to turn in, for
he approached me and began a conversation by way of rousing me
from my reverie, with, “Have you had a pleasant journey, sir?”
I replied in the affirmative, and gave him a sketch of my travels
and described the Matmata mountains—not a little vain, I confess, of
my expedition. “Have you ever been there?” I asked in conclusion.
“No, I have not,” he replied. “I came here some years ago with the
regiment which I followed as sutler, and, as the officers could not find
a place where they could dine, they proposed that I should cater for
them. This my wife and I agreed to do. By degrees we organised this
hotel, but to make it pay we have to be careful, and we cannot leave
it; since our arrival at Gabés I have positively only been twice
absent.”
Good heavens! thought I, how dull never to have a change and
look about one a bit; but I said, “You ought some day to go south; it
would interest you, for instance, to meet the Tuareg of the west at
Tatuin. I had the luck to be there just when two arrived, whose
equipments I bought.”
“Ah, those may be the same that I once saw.”
“Indeed, and when?”
“Ah, yes—it was a long time ago; I was quite young then, and the
love of travel drew me away from home. I do not remember how it
came about, but eventually I started with two companions to shoot
ostriches in the Sahara—in those days it was not so difficult to
penetrate there. We hunted with the Tuareg.”
“Did you venture far?”
“Yes, I do not exactly know how far, but certainly to the other side
of Tuat. The natives were a peaceful people, and we were never at
enmity with them. Our hunting was successful, and we made money
for our employer.
“Once I was on the point of going there again with Dr. Nachtigall,
but something intervened, and to my bitter regret I could not leave—
for I have always had a longing for that sort of life. It was very
different from slaving as we do now, my wife and I; for it is not easy
to please everyone—no, indeed! But to return to those days. You
see, I have been acquainted with many of the well-known travellers.
Most of them behave badly—for they do not respect the natives.
Some rely on force—which is a mistake—it is always best to be
unarmed. If ever I should venture there again, I would take a stick in
my hand and naught else.
“Miss Tinné I knew well. She would not listen to good advice and
was murdered. Good heavens! she needed only to ask the chief of
the Tuareg for a safe conduct and all would have been well, but she
would not wait till the matter could be arranged, believing that she
could safely penetrate farther with the protection she had.
 “No—believe me; it is easy enough to push one’s way forward,
but one must avoid offending the natives.
“There was another traveller who deserved to have been slain
also—but escaped. He simply stole cattle when he required them.”
We conversed long, and I gathered much information with many
interesting details, as old recollections were recounted by him as
they came back to his mind.
Saissy’s wife joined us, and we sat together and discussed a
glass of wine. Saissy promised me then to note down his
recollections, which are to be forwarded to me, and I hope to be able
to publish them later; for the present I confine myself to what I have
already mentioned.
On my referring to the great desire I had to visit Rhadamés some
future year—“Take me with you,” burst from M. Saissy. “I am in
earnest; pay me only sufficient to enable my wife to live in comfort in
my absence, and I will accompany you. You may be assured that I
should be of use to you.”
“From Tripoli?” I asked.
“Of course from Tripoli.”
“Nous verrons, M. Saissy.” And so we went to bed.
When I left, a couple of days later, Saissy came to me and gave
me his portrait, saying—
“You will let me know when you have come to a decision.”
 CHAPTER XVI

Back to Tunis

In the course of the night a telegram arrived, ordering Dr. Cultin to

return with me next day to Medinin, as his colleague had been
suddenly seized with fever and was very ill.
We were a little late in starting, and the sun was scorching hot.
Followed by our two Spahis and a led horse, which bore my
purchases from the Tuareg, we hurried homewards.
After a halt near Bir el Ahmer, where we breakfasted, and where a
fresh horse awaited me, our progress was rapid.
But it was after nightfall when we reached Medinin. Outside the
camp we met the lieutenant of the Spahis, who said that the doctor
was worse, and was about to be sent in a carriage to Gabés.
Dr. Cultin hurried away to his sick comrade, and I dismounted at
the quarters of the commandant, who came galloping in to receive
me, and invited me to a splendid dinner with some of the officers.
I need scarcely mention that I expressed my thanks in the
warmest terms for the brilliant reception I had received, and for my
memorable trip to the southernmost military stations.
I was offered a horse for an expedition to Zarsis and the island of
Jerba, but had to decline with many thanks, as my time was limited.
After a comfortable breakfast with the infantry officers, I bade my
friends farewell before the commandant’s house, and, waving my hat
in a final salute, rode off to Gabés.
Commandant Billet accompanied me nearly as far as Metamer,
where we parted.
 “Should you ever go to Rhadamés by way of Tripoli and return by
this route, you would be heartily welcome, and this would certainly
be your best way home,” said the commandant.
I replied that should the journey ever be attempted by me,
Medinin would have a great attraction for me, and thanked him
heartily for all his kindness.
Then I rode with my Spahi towards the camp at Metamer, where
the lieutenant on guard came out and invited me in.
After a short halt, I continued in a north-westerly direction along
the foot of the mountain of the signal station, and thence by a hilly
country north; the Matmata mountains lying to the west of us, and
the plain to the east.
On both the plain and the hills I saw ruined Roman remains. We
also passed a spot where a few soldiers were encamped for the
purpose of digging a well, and as we ascended a hill saw a vehicle
come swinging towards us. Before it rode a red Spahi, behind it
another. The carriage was a heavy box on four wheels, and had an
awning over it; it was drawn by four mules, and two soldiers acted as
postillions. From within peeped a woman’s face. It was a captain’s
wife who had taken advantage of the opportunity of going viâ
Medinin to visit her husband at Zarsis—the carriage being on its way
to fetch the sick doctor.
It was nearly sunset, and I urged on my horse to avoid arriving
late at the little caravansarai where we were to spend the night.
Soon it became so dark that the horses stumbled on the rough
road, and we had to slacken to a walk. For a long time we saw
nothing but each other’s dim figures and heard only the tramp of our
horses.
At last, at the village of Aram, lights shone and dogs barked as we
passed amongst its palms.
After riding in the still night about an hour longer, we again heard
dogs barking and saw lights. We were then near the oasis of Marath,
where, having ridden fully twenty miles, we were to rest some hours
and start again at sunrise for Gabés.
 In the caravansarai—which resembled that of Bir el Ahmer—a
Spahi from Gabés awaited me with a fresh horse.
The lights in the house streamed from the rooms into the
courtyard. Within were some soldiers, who had bivouacked round
about a candle placed on the floor. They came out, received our
horses and conducted me to an officer’s room. Four bare walls;
raised on masonry was a sloping plank-bed which extended along
the inner wall; besides this there was a table and a bench.
A native, who was in charge of the place, I sent to the oasis to buy
me some candles. The soldiers eagerly offered to lend me, till his
return, their little taper stuck in a bottle.
The Spahis then laid the table, and I dined, after first dividing with
them and the soldiers the eatables with which I had been so
sumptuously provided, for no one knows better than I do how a small
extra ration tends to put a soldier into good-humour. I have not
forgotten the old days in South Oran when I was myself a mere
private.
The Spahis and the four soldiers drew up in line at the table, and I
began the distribution—bread and dates to the Mohammedans, and
wine to the soldiers, which I poured into the tin mugs they held out to
me, and to whom I gave also bread and meat.
“Right about face, march!” I gave the order involuntarily, and the
troop at once vanished through the door.
Soon the sound of gay voices singing reached my ear from the
adjoining room.
When I had finished my repast I lit a cigarette and took a turn
through the courtyard to have a look at the horses, which still stood
saddled and had not yet been either fed or watered, they were so
overheated from their journey.
Having given orders that they were to be unsaddled, fed, and
watered, I returned, and, lying on the bed, listened to the singing.
I had rested but a short while when a smart soldier entered, and,
with his hand to his cap, asked if he and his comrades might enliven
the evening for me, as if so, they would come in.
I agreed willingly; so they came in, each carrying his mug, and sat
on the ground facing me.
After I had questioned them, asking each where he hailed from,
and had talked with them about a soldier’s life in the desert—a life I
also knew something of—I asked them to sing; then the usual
barrack ballads with comic choruses woke the still night. Afterwards I
chatted again a little with them, refilled their mugs which they
emptied, wishing me a happy journey, and then withdrew.
I wrapped myself in my burnous and slept, but was disturbed, first
by the stamping of the horses, and later by the noise of some carts
being yoked in the yard.
Before it was light next morning I was broad awake. The soldiers
made and brought me some coffee that I drank with relish, and it
was just daybreak when, wrapped in my burnous, I got into my
saddle, after having inscribed my name in the register. The soldiers
stood at attention and saluted as I bade them farewell and thanked
them for the songs they sang for me, while they, in return, wished me
a happy journey.
Our road was towards the north through the palm groves of the
lowland, where we now and again crossed the dry beds of torrents
that began in the mountains.
After a couple of hours we traversed the Ketena oasis, leaving
other palm groves on one side.
Here the level of the country rose a little, and far away on the
northern horizon we could see the palm forests that lie south of
Gabés, and now and again caught a glimpse in the east of the sunlit
surface of the Mediterranean.
Presently the temperature became very sultry, and a hot wind
rose, which whirled the sand in our eyes. This was the sirocco.
When we reached the high ground, where stands the Marabout’s
tomb of “Sid Hamed ben-Habib,” and had passed its palms, we saw,
through dust clouds and flying sand, Gabés, looking like a white