This paper is based on a public lecture of the same title presented by the auther on May 29, 2017, at the
51st General Meeting of the Japanese Association of Cultural Anthropology at the Rokko Campus of Kobe
University. It aims to consider two different modes of sociality—the so-called “Grid” and “Wave” modes—in
relation to nationalism.
Most cases of the “Grid” mode are found in the disciplinary system of the state. The auther first introduces
a criminal identification system called the Bertillon system, invented in Paris in the late 19th century. The
system, developed by Alphonse Bertillon, was an anthropometric system of the physical measurement of
body parts with full-facial and profile photos. Each case was catalogued.
Second, the auther explains another case of anthropometric practice found in the Andaman Islands when
it still was a British colony, with M. V. Portman and his associate collecting data on the measurements of
physical parts of Andamanese peoples, along with basic ethnographic descriptions. In one case, a woman
named Niari stood in front of a wall with Lamprey’s grid. In the archive system a sample is “bisected” into
small grids, and its card is then put into a filing box. Its data, along with other samples, are documented and
tabled. Here we can see the triple practice of gridding.
Following the end of the second Sudanese Civil War（1985-2003）, those living as refugees both inside and
outside Sudan have become aware of the imminent approach of their repatriation. However, it is not simply
a matter of returning home, as both the people and the place have been changed by the war.
Anthropologists have shown that the relationship between humans and a place—especially ‘home’ —has
the qualities of plurality and flexibility. At the same time, they have established that ‘the home’ is ultimately
important for people. The question of how that situation has developed, though, has not been answered. How
is a homeland defined? How can it be ‘the place of return’ for people who have experienced migration?
This paper explains the process by which the Kuku, an ethnic group in South Sudan, have come to
recognize Kajo-keji as their home. The author sheds light on that process by citing the experience of the
Kuku’s repeated migrations. She then presents several cases in which people who have repatriated to Kajokeji
from elsewhere have renewed their view of Kajo-keji, finding their home through their lives there. The
author attempts to answer the aforementioned questions through the case studies.
The term “society” is often used to designate some abstract existence, but it also has a more concrete
meaning in terms of the social interactions between people. According to Giddens, the term currently has two
main senses: a unity of people, and the generalized connotation of social interaction. Both of those meanings
are distinguished in the Japanese language: the former, namely, society in the narrow sense, is shakai,
and the latter, social association, is shakō. Though cultural anthropology and ethnomusicology often focus
on shakai, the social phenomena that are directly observable are not shakai （the abstract unity of people）
but rather shakō （concrete human interactions）. As Simmel discussed, social associations are of essential
importance when discussing society. The methodology for the analysis of social interaction has long been
sophisticated in both ethnomethodology and conversation analysis. This paper, adapting the methodology of
disciplines analyzing video data, combining its results with an ethnographical description of society （in the
narrow sense）, aims to clarify how kakeuta, a reciprocal style of singing in Akita Prefecture, Japan, has been
organized into the kind of society referred to by Oakeshott as societas, which is sustained by the preservation
society visible in Oakeshott’s universitas, and which is what drives the society of kakeuta.
In the southern Philippines, armed conflict has been waged between the Armed Forces of the Philippines
and the Moro separatist groups for more than forty-five years. Having been economically deprived and
politically marginalized, the Moro National Liberation Front （MNLF) was formed mainly by the discontented
Moro （mainly composed of Muslims) around 1970. In 1984 （also substantially in the late 1970’s), the Moro
Islamic Liberation Front （MILF), a splinter group from the MNLF, was organized. Both Moro separatist
groups have been separately engaged in an armed struggle and peace negotiations with the Philippine
Government to attain the right to self-determination via the establishment of an autonomous government.
As both the MNLF and MILF are mainly composed of the Moro, the armed conflict tends to be portrayed
as one between the Moro and the Philippines Government. However, there are additionally non-Moro
indigenous peoples （collectively known as the Lumad) in the same region who themselves have also been
marginalized in the process of state formation. Those peoples have been engaged in their own political
struggle to gain rights by forming a nationwide alliance with other indigenous peoples, leading to the
enactment of the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act （IPRA) in 1997. In other words, both the Moro and non-Moro indigenous peoples have been engaged in separate vertical struggles with the Philippine Government.
This paper deals with statement-taking activities carried out by the Solomon Islands Truth and
Reconciliation Commission （TRC） and the indigenous conflict resolution in the Solomon Islands. Especially,
it focuses on the conflict between the statement-taking and local cultural norms there.
The Solomon Islands experienced armed conflict from 1998 to 2003, in what is commonly referred to as
“ethnic tension.” Attempts to resolve the conflict—which caused about two hundred deaths and a number of
internally displaced persons—were made internationally, regionally and locally. The conflict finally ended in
July 2003 thanks to the Australian-led Regional Assistance Mission to the Solomon Islands. However, social
relations that had deteriorated due to the ethnic tension have not yet been fully repaired, with many problems
The Australian-led mission immediately disarmed the militias, and arrested and prosecuted the
perpetrators of the conflict in cooperation with the Royal Solomon Islands Police Force. Meanwhile,
reconciliation—one of the most important tasks in post-conflict societies—was addressed by multiple
agents, including the Ministry of National Unity, Reconciliation and Peace, the Solomon Islands Christian
Association, and the Solomon Islands Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
This paper describes and analyzes the process of conflict resolution in a village in Tsaka Valley, located
in Enga Province in the New Guinea Highlands, which lies at the interface of “top-down” and “bottom-up”
peace. The creation of peace maintenance methods that cannot be reduced to either of those two types is
also discussed. In anthropology, when dealing with that theme, we must ask, “What is peace?” However,
the question is temporarily shelved in this paper. Instead, the aim of the paper is to examine the interconstitutive
relationship between the court system introduced during the colonial and independence periods,
on the one hand, and “customary” conflict resolution methods, on the other. When investigating such places
as the New Guinea Highlands, which have not experienced large-scale conflict with thousands or tens of
thousands of casualties, anthropology must comprehend the totality of social life containing the possibility of
small-scale conflict as “peace,” and capture people’s creativity and logic in conflict resolution.
Originally, when studying conflict, anthropology suggested a form of society permanently in conflict
without the binary of “pre-conflict and post-conflict.” That type of research is abundant. Typically, those
studies are conducted from an ecological approach to the analysis of social structure and legal anthropology.
However, previous studies do not sufficiently address the question of emotion, which cannot be fully
explained by analyzing structure and norms. In conflict studies, the investigation of how anger is triggered
and subsides in conflict has long been regarded as the most important research question. However, in reality,
research on that is not sufficient.
Bhutan has recently garnered international praise for its policy of Gross National Happiness （GNH）, which seeks
to strike a balance between the pursuit of economic growth and that of cultural and spiritual contentment. At the
same time, GNH has been criticized by some anthropologists who say that it serves as an “anti-politics machine” that
fabricates reality in such a manner as to privilege the standpoint of policy elites, while suppressing the voices of
Those engaged in that anti-political critique propose to take the side of ordinary people and reconstruct reality
from their hidden voices. That assertion, while potentially helping broaden the debate on GNH, is flawed in that it
simplistically assumes that ordinary people merely resent elite control. The anti-political critique resultantly diverts
attention from the multiplicity of realities that supersedes the anti-politics machine.
One clue that allows us to redress that drawback can be traced to the ontological turn that problematizes our
common-sense divide between human societies and non-human objects. Instead of lapsing into the human/nonhuman
divide, which leads anthropologists to focus on representations of non-human objects by particular human
groups （in this paper, the praise of GNH spearheaded by policy elites, or ordinary people’s alternative
representations）, the ontological turn focuses attention on the various connections among human and non-human
entities. Both are positioned as agents to call into being the multiplicity of reality.
This paper looks at the case of a village in central Bhutan, whose residents are immersed in close ties with nonhuman
and divine beings, while practicing Buddhism on a daily basis.
The anti-political nature of GNH praise surfaced when a businessperson called off a plan to build a golf course in
the village, partly in response to a web-based campaign launched by a member of the urban-based elite. That elite
member sought to stress, in a media interview, the role of his GNH-inspired campaign in warning against the
possible negative environmental, cultural, and spiritual consequences of the plan, and urged the government not to
approve it. On the other hand, the following initiative, made by the residents, was sidelined in his story: the residents
had also said ‘no’ in a public hearing, despite the lucrative prospects of landing new jobs, on the grounds that the
plan would disturb their domestic animals and local deities.
The anti-political critique mistakenly posits a simplistic dichotomy of the ‘powerful’ elite versus the ‘powerless’
residents. The ontological turn, on the other hand, takes into account the latter’s active engagement with non-human
and divine beings, which empowers them to assess the pros and cons of the plan in their own terms. In that way, the
ontological turn enables us to engage in a more balanced debate on GNH than does the anti-political critique, which
is plagued by its dwelling on the ‘powerful-powerless’ divide.
Ever since social sciences rejected the validity of “race” as a biological concept, the old notion of racism has been
replaced with a new one that targets cultural differences as grounds for exclusion. However, earlier studies indicate
the continuity of both forms of racism, in terms of essentializing incompatible differences to divide humans. Studies
on racism in Australia share that perspective on the connection between race and ethnicity. In particular, those
targeting Indigenous people argue that the construction and maintenance of a homogeneous “Aboriginal” racial
category constitutes part of racism. Based on that premise, this paper aims to examine the coexistence of old and
new forms of racism toward Indigenous and Sudanese peoples in Adelaide, Australia.
Indigenous and Sudanese Australians in Adelaide find themselves in a similar socioeconomic situation, in terms of
higher unemployment rates and lower incomes than white Australians. In addition, mainstream media perceive youth
from both groups as more likely to be associated with gangs, violence and crime. There have even been cases where
physical and mental attributes associated with biological differences, such as skin color and IQ, were explicitly
mentioned as grounds for negative stereotyping, thereby revealing the persistence of old racism.
In the media representation, both groups are viewed as “uncontrollable others,” or those who threaten the
authority of whites, who remain in charge of maintaining the order in multicultural Australian society. Both groups
experience “blackness,” a construct of the media, in their daily lives, and perceive it as a reason for their social
exclusion. Thus, the epistemological category of “blackness” has appeared, encompassing both groups, in contrast to
“whiteness,” in the process of social exclusion through racism.
Indigenous and Sudanese peoples respond differently to the concept of “blackness.” There are cases in which
Indigenous people feel a sense of racial commonality—that is, the experience of “being black” or “not being
white”—in their interactions with Sudanese people. That has its basis on the common experience of social exclusion.
Meanwhile, some Sudanese consider themselves outside of a black racial identity, and prefer to focus on their high
degree of social integration through their English language ability and social contributions to Australian society.
They thus consider being “black” as a hindrance to social integration. Such a perception conversely shows that
biological differences, especially skin color, constitute significant barriers to gaining complete “whiteness.” They
continue to be a non-erasable difference in Australian mainstream society, where racism without “race” prevails.