Bioarchaeology

Written in Bone: The Study of Identity and Gender

A few weeks ago, my friend and colleague in my department asked me to give a guest lecture to her anthropology of women and men class. Recently, I have taken a keen interest in investigating gender and identity in the Andes, and my colleague asked that I illustrate to her students how studying human bone may inform us on gender.

My understanding of gender is drawn mainly from archaeological theory. Every archaeologist who addresses constructions and maintenance of gender from the material record knows of the influential work by Conkey and Spector (1984). According to them, gender archaeology (also referred to as “feminist” archaeology) emerged in response to the intentional and/or unintentional propagation of culturally particular ideas about gender in interpretations and reconstructions of the past. The male perspective is taken to be representative of the culture. The female view, on the other hand, is portrayed as peripheral to the norm (Conkey and Spector, 1984). In the archaeological record, women were seen as the recipients of social influences and passive in social processes (Scott, 1999). Oftentimes, women’s domestic and maternal identities are conflated. Gender archaeology strives to make visible woman and their own agency and their construction of their own social world (Scott, 1999). Reinvestigations of human life with females at the center of analysis (Conkey and Spector, 1984) have the potential to elucidate the commonalities and diversity in women’s lives and to examine women’s spheres of power and influence.

There is a ton of information you can gather from the study of human bones. In my particular field bioarchaeology, it is my goal to understand and construct what daily life was like for living populations in the past. We study bones to identify patterns of ill-health, what individuals ate, their daily activities such as work load and occupation, and even identify patterns of trauma. To do this, we have to have a lot of knowledge about the human osteology, focusing mainly on the hard tissues of the body: bone and teeth, because these are what mostly likely preserves archaeologically.

There is a basic principle to the bioarchaeological study of human bone: bones are universal, concrete essentially biological materials that also serve as archaeological artifacts from which specialists may elucidate past behaviors (Sofaer, 2006). Bone is made up of an organic substance and inorganic mineral, the organic material provides bone it’s “give”, while the bone’s inorganic mineral gives bone it’s structure. So the bone’s capability to be modeled, or plasticity, enables bone to be shaped, but there is a limit to how much you can shape bone. In other words, the bone’s plasticity is not limitless

For example, a fracture occurs when the bone’s ability to withstand force fails. The bone’s plasticity has been exceeded. On the other hand, consistent pressure, or force to the bone over time molds the bone, like during cranial modification (a process of binding the skull bones of a growing infants to change the shape of the head). Changing the shape of the skull is a process takes time and requires continuous pressure being applied to the bones of the head. In this case, the bone’s plasticity has been slowly shaped to produce the desired shape.

9e041c55e890991a147458dc2ae16f2d

Above: Fracture of the humerus (arm): plasticity has been exceeded

image-4_cranial_deformation

Above: Cranial modification: Bone’s capability of being molded

So based on these biological principals and cultural practices, the bones may be studied to inform us on both natural processes and cultural phenomenon. So what can bone tell us about cultural phenomenon such as identity, gender in particular?

Archaeologists and bioarchaeologist consider identity a person’s sense of who they are based on their group membership and relationship to other group members. These identities include gender, age, status, ethnic affiliation, and so on. Who a person is, their identity, is made up of not one, but coexisting social identities that are brought together, reordered, and disaggregated over the course of a person’s life (Knudson and Stojanowski 2008). All identities are accompanied by group and individual expectations of how a person should behavior and their role in society.

For example, codices such as the Mendoza codex illustrate that in Aztec households, men and women were assigned different duties with the understanding that both sets of activities were necessary for the success of the family. Male activities generally occurred outside the house: farming, fishing, long-distance trading, and making war. Female activities were mostly connected with the house and its associated courtyard: sweeping, cooking, and weaving. Despite this strict division, childcare was not considered a particularly female activity. Women were responsible for educating their daughters, and men were responsible for training their sons.

490px-codex_mendoza_folio_60r_8aca4620fa

“Gender Roles among the Nahua in the Codex Mendoza [Painting],” in Children and Youth in History, Item #276, http://chnm.gmu.edu/cyh/case-studies/276 (accessed December 13, 2016). Annotated by Dana Leibsohn

So my question is whether or not these identities be written on the bone. Consistently preforming certain tasks and behaving in ways that are deemed appropriate may result in permanent changes to the skeleton. In fact, others have noted that bones may be useful for examining identities. Reicher and Koo (2004) note that permanent changes to the skeleton reflect shifts in social identity, cultural beliefs, social dynamics and boundaries, and political conformity or deviance. In their evaluation of new directions in bioarchaeology article, Knudson and Stojanowski (2008: 411) recognize that “[s]ocial identities are written directly on the body in the form of body modifications” (Knudson and Stojanowski 2008: 411). It seems reasonable to suggest that we can examine the skeleton to investigate what these permanent changes convey about the social and cultural beliefs of people in the past (and even present).

In “Binding Women: Ethnology, skeletal deformations, and violence against women”, Pamela Stone Explores how certain ideas of what constitutes womanhood are made normal by society, and these practices strive to “bound women’s bodies and behaviors”, and are consider forms of violence against women. Stone draws on three examples: Chinese foot-binding, the neck rings worn by ethnic groups in Southeast Asia, and tight lacing of corsets.

Stone makes the point that bioarchaeologists usually study past societies looking for evidence of conflict using “traditional” examples of trauma, meaning they look for types of wounds that occur before (ante-mortem), at or around the time of death (peri-mortem), and cut marks, in other words, wounds sustained during conflict, warfare, and interpersonal violence in the past. Stone shrewdly notes that identifying conflict in the archaeological record is more complicated, as violence, coercion, and repression of a group of people may not always result in these traditional examples of violence.

Study of violence in the bioarchaeological record places emphasis is placed on men and their pursuit of resources, power, and prestige while the roles and motivations of women are neglected (Martin et al., 2010). Women are traditionally only discussed as victims of violence because they are believed to be much less violent than men, which some research suggests may not be entirely accurate (Warner et al., 2005). Male with injuries are assumed to be warriors and female injuries represent women who were victims of violence. Even if women are less violent than males, it is possible that both males and females utilize violent behaviors as a means of obtaining and securing desired outcomes (Martin et al., 2010).

It seems likely that those in power may perpetuate certain acts to immobilize or limit the agency of those not in power by upholding and perpetuating forms of structural and cultural violence. How do they do this? Stone suggests that literally “binding women” was an example of cultural and structural violence that served to limit female power and agency

Those in power constructed of ideas such as the “fragile female” and by deforming and deactivating the body they limited the physical mobility of the female body. Those in power also enforced beautification; female bodies were modified, deformed, or changed in such a way to fulfill ideas of beauty and worth. In this way, we can study the changes and modifications in female bodies as proxies for how structural and cultural violence impacted women and how female gender and identity was expressed.

Foot-binding is a classic example. The origins of foot-binging is a little murky, but several sources agree that the practice began during the Sung Dynasty, when court dancer Yao Niang bound her feet to mimic shape of the new moon. It was practiced only by elite women, but later in time it was available to all classes of women. In fact, become a selling point for prostitution (particularly appealing to American and European sailors). Though it was outlawed in 1911, some women insistent on binding the feet of their female children. Binding began in childhood, mothers bound feet of their daughters as early as age 5 because the bones were more malleable at that age. Tight wrapping starting at the instep and compressed the foot, turning in the four smaller toes in a longitudinal manner, ultimately stunting the foot’s growth. Toes often lost when the circulation was cut off, often created a gangrene and ulcerous state of the outer two toes. Binding took two years, but bandages worn for life. The idea foot was three inches in length. The practice resulted in permanent modification; the foot could not be returned to original state.

girls-bound-feet-flickr_0

Altered shape of foot and produced gait that relined on thigh and buttock muscles. Long term causes included higher rates of low femoral neck bone density and higher incidence of hip fractures due to falls resulting from the loss of stability from their tiny feet. These risks and issues also coalesced with a lack of mobility resulting in a lack of weight-bearing activities, which are both known to result in poor bone health.

The neck ring tradition of Southeast Asia also had detrimental effects on women’s health, yet persists today. Many Padaung (Kayan) people are now refugees in northern Thailand,  originally from Myanmar (Burma). The neck-ring tradition of this group may have originated as a means to protect women’s necks against tiger attacks. The practice immobilizes females, rendering them helpless and chronically stressed. The custom, like foot-binding, reflects wealth and status and is tied to marriageability and is therefore a reflection of a woman’s identity and beauty. This practice is performed by a girl’s mother, with other female family members, to ensure their daughters are properly acculturated into their belief systems. Stone references a study from 1979, in which Dr. Keshishian published a radiograph of a 43-year-old woman who had worn the brass rings since the age of 5. Her vertebrae remained intact, although stretched, and the rings sat on her ribs and clavicles (collar bones), pushing them down at almost a 45-degree angle to give the illusion of a longer neck. Secondary effects of the neck rings include shorter faces, narrowing of the mandibular widths, inclinations of upper and lower incisors, and changes in palatal heights and mouth opening. As the clavicles are a sort of “coat hanger” of the body, changes in their position and shape also impacts the lungs, and may inhibit breathing or change pitch of voice.

tju-long-necks-final-2-still002

Some documentaries and modern tour groups that visit villages where these women reside note that some women enjoy upholding this tradition but others feel pressured to endure the painful custom to make a living. Human rights groups claim the refugee status exploits women who can’t find other work. According to “Ethical Travel”:

“An estimated 40,000 tourists per year pay between $8-16 to stop by these hill tribe villages to gaze upon the women’s unusual appearance and take pictures. Unfortunately, the entry fee is rarely dispensed to the villagers directly. Instead, neck-ring-wearing-women sell trinkets, crafts and photo-ops, essentially working in a live-in gift shop. Residents receive an allowance of food and toiletries and profit from handicraft sales, and women wearing brass rings earn an extra salary. While some say the villages give Kayans a paid opportunity to retain their culture, others condemn this arrangement for exploiting stateless women and children in exchange for tourist dollars.”

These practices demonstrate a a desire to define gender roles and maintain beauty and marriageability. Yet, we must consider power dynamics in play, that women (typically mother and female family members) preformed and perpetuated the act of modifying female bodies. Ideas of gender and body modification may inform us how the social structure (those in power) inform individual how to behave. A circular connection emerges: Individuals themselves, be it mothers, female family members, or the males who find these bodily changes desirable, influence and dictated what are the expected ways of behaving. Those behaviors also reinforce the ideals set by those in power.

I have been wondering whether or not I can use human remains from archaeological contexts along with artifacts to investigate identities such as gender. Conkey and Spector (1984) note that gender is a system of social rather than biological classification that varies cross-culturally and changes over time in response to a variety of conditions and factors. Agarwal (2012) also recognizes that gender identify in the past is a malleable and dynamic construction that is not locked in with biology. What is obviously problematic with bioarchaeology and the study of gender is how researchers separate the biologically determined male and female bodies from the socially constructed genders of the archaeological bodies. That is one of the many questions I hope to answer as a graduate student and in my career. Nevertheless, I am confident that navigating this tricky problem to further investigate the links between gender and the human body may inform us on the powerful ways in which identities are created and maintained across cultures and even through time.

Cited Readings

Agarwal, S.C. (2012). The Past of Sex, Gender, and Health: Bioarchaeology of the Aging Skeleton. American Anthropologist 114(2): 322-335.

Conkey, MW. and Spector, JS. (1984). Archaeology and the Study of Gender. Advances in Archaeological Method and Theory 7: 1-38.

Knudson, K. and Stojanowski, C. (2008). New Directions in Bioarchaeology: Recent Contributions to the Study of Human Social Identities. Journal of Archaeological Research 16:397-432.

Stone, P. (2012). Binding women: Ethnology, skeletal deformations, and violence against women. International Journal of Paleopathology 2:53-60.

Reischer, E., Koo, K.S., 2004. The body beautiful: symbolism and agency in the social

world. Annual Review of Anthropology 33, 297–317.

Scott, E. (1999). The archaeology of infancy and infant death (Vol. 819). British Archaeological Reports Limited.

Sofaer, JR (2006). Body as a Material Culture: A Theoretical Osteoarchaeology. Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press.

Advertisements

Why Anthropology Matters (now more than ever)

legal-anthropology-1

Excited chatter echoes down the second floor corridor as a group of middle school girls approaches the door to the osteology lab. The young women file into the lab wide-eyed, curiously craning their necks to see the rows of bones on the shelves and tables. “Are those real?” They ask, pointing to a row of skulls or the complete skeleton on the table, “are those someone’s bones?”

Typically, I begin these GiST (Girls in STEM at Tulane) workshops by introducing myself and welcoming them to the New Life in Buried Bones workshop. Today, I tell them, you all will learn about the study of human skeletal remains from archaeological sites and in forensic cases. Using the examples of bones with dental disease and cranial modification, I show these young women how human bones inform us on ancient life. They always love to hear gory forensic cases, so I make sure to include a few examples of blunt-force trauma and gun-shot wounds. For those interested in medicine or biomechanics, I give demonstrations of how repetitive motions to two joint surfaces can result in boney changes and sometimes even osteoarthritis. Every once in a while, one girl will exclaim that she also wants to be a bioarchaeolgist or a forensic anthropologist when she grows up.

Today, this workshop felt as if it would be different. Today, my enthusiasm felt strained. I had spent the last few days deliberating over what I was going to say to these girls. I could not simply pretend that everything was okay. It certainly wasn’t. I could not think of words eloquent enough to express how distraught I felt. Today, it was my job to stand in front of these young women and tell them that her education was one of the most important things she’ll ever have. She shouldn’t feel discouraged when she fails, or when her peers let her down. I was supposed to tell her that the bullies don’t win in the end. Hard work and critical thinking are invaluable. Being bold, imaginative, and fearless is what leads to innovation and discovery. The world is full of its problems, but she has the ability to tackle the most insurmountable challenges. Pursuing science, I would tell her, is one way to do that.

Today, those words felt hallow, flippant, and simply untrue. I should be thinking of ways to encourage and inspire these women, but instead, in light of this week’s election, I was plagued with memories of all the troubles I had when I was their age. I thought of the bullies, male peers who harassed me for answering questions in class or commented on my appearance, as if that had something to do with my value or intelligence. How was I supposed to tell them that no matter how impressive her accomplishments, there will be that person who attempts to discredit her, belittle her, and make her feel worthless? Worst of all, how am I supposed to tell her that all of these problems are simply a phase, and that things will get better after middle and high school? She has a bright future, I should tell her. She would be accepted to university based on her merits. But would always be someone there, a real or fictions demon on her shoulder whispering in her ear that she only got in because she’s a woman, a woman of color, an immigrant, a LGBT? I shudder to think of those who said similar things to me (and I enjoy more privilege than most); those men who said or implied that I took their spot, that being a woman gave me a competitive edge they did not enjoy. Forgot that maybe my successes meant I was qualified. Someone had to be blamed, and I was the unlucky winner.

As much as I wanted to unleash my own frustrations, I knew that was not the best way to proceed. I am sad, I am angry, but I am certainly not going to back down and admit defeat.

Instead, I will look to my greatest comfort: anthropology.

What is anthropology? I ask the young women.

“The study of human bones!”

“The study of ancient societies!”

“The study of artifacts and archaeology!”

“The study of culture!”

You are all correct, I tell them, these are all important aspects of being human and they are intimately interconnected and manifest in infinite, fascinating ways. Anthropology is the science of human beings. We have the tool kit of a scientist: we ask questions, formulate hypotheses, make observations of the evidence, and evaluate our results. Our goal is to understand the complexities of human nature, why humans do what we do. It is during that fascinating, fulfilling, and sometimes frustrating journey that we discover how valuable and rare our open-mindedness and thirst for understanding is in the world.

My fellow anthropologists, all you linguists, cultural and medical anthropologists, forensic anthropologists, archaeologists, bioarchaeologists, and primatologists, you know this. And it thrills me to call you my friends and colleagues.

But to those who are unfamiliar with what I do, this is for you. Anthropology is not simply an intellectual oddity tucked away in the ivory towers of university campuses. It cannot be buried in piles of jargon-heavy books and articles, though that doesn’t mean some haven’t tried. Studying the interconnectedness of all aspects of human life enables us to understand why diseases spread and why crops fail. This science of human nature allows us to explore why societies commissioned art to inspire creativity or to evoke a sense of the divine. Anthropology explores how empires expand and collapse. It does not shy away from discussions of race, gender, and colonialism; in fact, it confronts these debates head-on, challenging us to critically evaluate our past mistakes so that our future is full of thoughtful, well-informed decisions. To an anthropologist, why early humans migrated out of Africa, over Beringia, and went to the moon seems almost obvious. Humans are wired to look to the horizon, across oceans, and up at the night sky: we want to go beyond our known world to see what lies just out of reach.

Anthropology has comforted me these last few days. Hatred and fear are simply the symptoms of ignorance, and it can spread like wildfire if left unchecked and unchallenged. To be an anthropologist is to understand human similarities and differences. We do not hate the unknown nor fear the challenges of this ever-changing world. Instead, we build connections with our global community and to the past by studying cultures, ancient societies, and their material correlates; we do not build walls. Anthropology is a discipline that has the power to understand who we were. It is more important now than ever that we recognize that anthropology also has the indispensable power to help us decide who we are and who we want to be.

So today, as I looked at those excited, hopeful, bright young women in the osteology lab, I tell them I decided to study anthropology because I wanted to fully comprehend and appreciate the complex, beautiful world around me. In the words of Ruth Benedict, I tell them, “the purposes of anthropology is to make the world safe for human differences.”

Mummies, Saints, and Religion in the Andes

Andean peoples have a long history of incorporating new practices into their worldview. Just as the Inka institutionalized ritual life during the Late Intermediate Period (1000-1450 AD), Andean people were able to incorporate the rituals of Catholicism into their own religious framework after the Spanish conquest. In Catholicism, the body—be it the body of a deceased Christian, a saint, or the body of Christ—was used to convey meanings about life, death, and the promise of an ideal afterlife in exchange for devout living. Similarly, the body had an equally ritualistic role among the Andean people as ancestral mummies were consulted on matters of life and venerated long after death. In other words, the body in its preserved, mummified form had similar roles in Catholicism and Andean religion. The he fusing together two separate ideologies (Andean beliefs and Catholicism), or syncretism, may have been partly due to the importance the Andean people placed on mummified bodies. What are the similar ways  Andean people and Catholics from Europe perceived the body?

The body is not simply a biological entity, but is a carefully crafted artifact that continues to be worked and transformed after death. In death, the body transforms into a form of material culture created and maintained through social practices, historical circumstances, and other social forces (Sofaer, 2006). The body is used to convey representations of death and the afterlife, of a society´s boundaries, of the nature of humanness, and of the ordering of the social world. The treatment of the corpse embodies complex concepts about the living body (what it is to be human, how to follow codes of conduct) and society at large (how the social order is represented but also about the nature of death) (Pearson, 2008).

The dead, mummies in particular, were seen as an active group in the Andean world. One of the best-known techniques of transforming and utilizing the corpse is by means of its transformation into a mummy. Such bodies retained what Tung (2014) refers to as “post-mortem agency” in which the bodies, even in their altered, mummified state, remain politically and social active in death. These bodies are the culmination of rituals that serve to separate the dead from the living and install them within another dimension of human understanding (Pearson, 2008). Interestingly, the perceptions of the mummified body were similar between Catholics and Andean people, and, as I argue, allowed for the syncretism of Catholicism and Andean religion.

Mummification and Ancestor Veneration in Andean Religion

The Andean peoples had long venerated their ancestors and the mummified the remains of their most important relatives (mallquis), but the Inka institutionalized this process of ancestor worship by creating a system of religious corporations (panacas) to honor deceased rulers (Andrian, 2001). Theses practices continued through the Inka period and desiccation of the body continued to be the most notable funerary practice throughout the Andes at Spanish contact (Rakita and Buikstra, 2005).

After death, the living exerted great effort to embalm the body of the Inka emperor in a manner that preserved his appearance and likeness as in life (Cobo, 1990 [1653]; Cieza de León (1959 [1553]). The mummified Inka emperors were wrapped in large amounts of cotton and dressed in rich clothing and were enshrined in golden thrones in the Temple del Sol (Korikancha) in Cusco (Dillehay, 1991), or in their own homes where kin could provide attention and care for their bodies (Rowe, 1995). Cobo (1653, 1990) notes that some bodies over 200 years old were still found in Cusco and were so well preserved that the skin and hair were still intact, as if the individual had died less than a month before!

A portion of the gold and silver the deceased had accumulated in his lifetime were placed with the body while other sumptuary goods were buried elsewhere, specifically in places where the deceased usually went to enjoy himself during his life (Cobo, 1990 [1653]). A separate set of priests made offerings to the mummies of deceased Inkas and other prominent figures, providing ritual meals of chicha and other foodstuff, surrounding them with utensils used in life (such as textiles, hoes, and weapons), and including them to community religious celebrations (Cobo, 1990 [1653]); Cieza de León, 1959 [1553]).

From Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala: El primer nueva corónica y buen gobierno

The body of the dead Inka emperor was dried and preserved above ground, guarded by attendants, and treated as if the ruler were still alive (Dillehay, 1995). The body itself preserved the memory of the dead ruler, and his descendants recited his deeds on public occasions. The mummified Inka rulers participated in public affairs, were brought to temples and houses to carry out functions that, in all appearances, were of a political character. For example, they were regularly borne on litters during the most important ceremonies that took place in Cusco’s plaza and often consulted on important matters (Pizarro, 1978 [1571]).

The palaces and other residences of a deceased ruler were not inherited by his successors; rather, the dead physically and symbolically were still believed to occupy their residences and palaces even in death. These residences served as monumental reminders of the ruler (Rowe, 1995). In other words, the deceased Inka ruler continued to physically and symbolically participate in society; he did not and could not wholly die.

Are there any similarities between the bodies of the Inka and Catholic bodies?

Incorruptible Catholic Bodies

The Roman Catholic Church has long practiced mummification to preserve the bodies of saints, priests, bishops, and other high-ranking church members. The bodies are named “incorruptible” because the bodies are believed to have preserved miraculously and are immune to decay (Jeremiah, 2012; Chamberlain and Pearson, 2001). The spontaneous preservation was believed to be evidence of the sanctity of the individual (Jeremiah, 2012; Chamberlain and Pearson, 2001); an individual believed to be pure and lived what is considered an “uncorrupted” life. While many of the so-called incorruptible bodies have been deemed as forgeries, the perception of the incorruptible nature of the bodies continues in the Catholic mindset (Jeremiah, 2012).

The display of these incorruptible bodies belonging to saints, priests, bishops, and other high-ranking individuals in the Catholic Church serves several purposes. Displaying bodies of the deceased functions as a constant reminder of the inevitability of death to encourage followers of the Catholic faith to live devout lives. Also, bodies belonging to divine individuals are believed to be immediate sources of supernatural power for good or for ill, and close contact with them or possession of them was a means of participating in that power (Geary, 1986: 176). Beginning in the 11th century and into the present, whole and partial bodies of saints were prized for their thaumaturgic power, particularly “their ability to substitute for public authority, protest and secure the community, determine the relative status of individuals and churches, and provide for the community´s economic prosperity” (Geary, 1986: 179). In sum, mummified bodies served religious as well as social, economic, and political purposes ultimately to legitimate the authority of the Roman Catholic Church.

Mummied head believed to belong to St. Catherine of Siena, Basilica Cateriniana San Domenico, Siena, Italy

Spanish Conquest and Dismantlement of Ancestor Veneration

The Spanish justified their conquest of Tawantinsuyu in 1532 by vowing to convert the indigenous souls with their pagan beliefs to the Catholic faith (Andrien, 2008). While the conquistadors initially sought the treasure held by mummy and their shrines, Spaniards quickly realized that the mummies were dangerous because they commanded considerable political and religious authority; they were still conferred with, and capable of, inspiring their followers to action against Spanish rule (Dean, 2010). Spaniards rapidly recognized the danger posed by the cadavers of the divine, ancestral deceased, control over the dead—both the bodies of the deceased and beliefs about them—was a critical element in the conversion efforts of early Christian evangelizers in the Andes (Harris, 1982).

Body, Soul, and the Afterlife: Modern Ethnographic Examples 

The idea that the spiritual identity and power of the dead is located in their desiccated physical remains is a very old one in the Andes. According to Inka religious traditions, the dead would reach their final destination or resting place (pacarina) after the performance of specific rituals and mummification. Yet, the individual’s mummified corpse and the objects belonging to that individual during life are both believed to house the essence of the individual after death while the essence of the individual journeyed to the afterlife simultaneously (Andrien, 2008; Dillehay, 1995). Similarly, in Catholicism, the deceased also go through a transition into the afterlife (heaven), while both the body and the objects associated with the individual continues to be sacred and possess the essence of the individual (Jeremiah, 2012).

In modern-day Peru, indigenous people in Huaquirca, Department Apurímac, Peru, prepare and process in a complex ritual of combining aspects of both Catholicism and Andean beliefs to ensure the soul reaches the afterlife. While a portion of Huaquircaños physically burry the deceased in a Christian burial, others preform a clothes-washing ceremony of the deceased’s clothing. This clothes-washing ceremony ensures that the soul does not return to the clothing he or she wore during life, but instead continues onto the afterlife (Gose, 1994). Similar to the Inka mummies, objects and the places the Huaquircaños habited during life potentially continue to possess the soul of the deceased (Gose, 1994).

The Sonqueños of the south-central highlands of Peru combine their indigenous Andean beliefs with Christian ideas about the afterlife. The Sonqueños burry their dead in their cemetery in the Christian tradition, yet they conceptually locate their ancestors in the chullpas (burial houses or towers) on their sacred hill located near their village (Allen, 2002). While the bodies are physically the cemetery and conceptually occupy the chullpas, the souls, or essences, of the deceased also travel to what the Sonqueños refer to as hanan pacha (upper world), which they also define as the Christian heaven (Allen, 2002). Thus, the concepts of the afterlife do not diverge dramatically from the original Andean beliefs; rather, the concepts of the afterlife are incorporated into the Catholic worldview.

Purity of the Preserved Body

Inka mummies were ancestors that were meant to be visited and preform as oracles. It would therefore follow that the preservation of their corporeal form was imperative. In fact, during the Spanish extirpation, Andean people removed the bodies because the deceased from Catholic cemeteries. They reported that the dead were unhappy with burial; they were alone and isolated, unable to breathe and move under the weight of the earth, and overwhelmed by the stench of their own rotting flesh which had not been allowed to desiccate naturally in the cool, arid air of the traditional crypt-cave (Doyle, 1988). Among the modern-day Sonqueños in Peru, Allen (2002) notes that after death, a sinful individual is unable to accomplish his or her transformation from the body to the afterlife, and therefore be forced to animate its rotting body.

Similarly, Catholic bodies of iconic religion figures preserved due to the purity of soul; they are thus the ideal examples of upholders of the Catholic faith (Jeremiah, 2012). The body of Margaret of Cortona (1247-1297), for example, did not decay after her death, but instead gave off a pleasant sent that was interpreted as the Odor of Sanctity. Her remarkable preservation later led to her canonization (Vago, 2007) and status as an incorruptible body in the Catholic Church (Jeremiah, 2012). The bodies of the ideal Catholic, therefore, would be spiritually pure and therefore immune to decay or putrefaction.

St. Margaret of Cortona

The importance of purity and perfection in the Inka ideology is best illustrated in the qhapaq huchas, or capacocha, a ceremony during which female and male children and teenagers of exemplary of physical purity and perfection, known as ahapaq hucha, were immolate tributes to the Inka Empire (Besom, 2010). Typically, the qhapaq huchas were virgin boys, girls, and young women who were selected specifically for their good looks and lack of blemishes such as warts, freckles (Cobo 1979: 235-238 [1653]; 1990: 111-113 [1653]).

The capacocha involved leaving objects in a burial that in some way mirrored, either literally or metaphorically, the deceased (Gaither et al., 2008: 108, 113, 115-116). The ahapaq hucha would be enshrined with objects that denote markers of gender and, arguably, objects representing the ideal professions and behaviors of living males and females. For example, feminine statuettes and markers of gender, such as tipus, were deposited with girls and young women (Ceruti, 2003; Linares, 1966; Reinhard 1996, 1999; Reinhard and Ceruti, 2000). Females and female statuettes were dressed like aqlla-kuna “chosen women,” who were virgins who served as imperial gods of state (Besom 2009). Camelids were exclusively placed with boys, perhaps because in Andean society it is usually males who herd and are in charge of the llama caravans (Besom, 2009).

In sum, both Catholicism and Andean religion place emphasis on the sacredness of unblemished bodies as an indication of the purity of the individual. The bodies of the saints were physical representations of the ideal Catholic. The ahapaq huchas, similarly, were meant to embody the ideas of perfection, both physically as well as in their gendered professions.

Inka Burial Objects and Catholic Relics

Statues depicting divine individuals are used as objects of veneration and meditation in religions worldwide. The Catholic Church defines relics as the remains of a saint or holy person. There are three tiers of relics: 1) saints’ bodies and instruments involved in the crucifixion of Christ, 2) objects in close contact with a saint, such as clothing or instruments of martyrdom, and 3) objects touched by a saint (Edwards, 1997). Jewel-encrusted reliquaries to hold the relics, images of the saints and other holy persons also had considerable religion value and power in the Roman Catholic church and were therefore installed securely in the chancels of the richest monasteries and cathedrals of Europe (Jeremiah, 2012).

The physical body of the saint, however, maintains the most power in the Roman Catholic faith. The bodies, and sometimes body parts, of a specific saint were thought to possess the spiritual essence of the deceased. These saints were believed to be simultaneously present in the bodily remains and in heave also (Bynum, 1995). When a saint or high-ranking member of the church died, the body is preserved and the pieces of the body, or even pieces of clothing or objects that belong to the individual are sent to various locations (Jeremiah, 2012).

Possession of a relic body, piece of the body, and/or object belonging to the deceased was beneficial because the church or temple that houses these objects would become an important site for pilgrimages, and therefore made more money (Sharf, 1992). These bodies and body parts were believed to be reservoirs of divine energy with the power to protection and even offer advice and guidance to the faithful (Jeremiah, 2012).

Saint Coronatus, Heiligkreuztal, Germany

Similarly, the Andean people and the Inka shared similar viewpoints on the sacred nature of the body as well as the objects formally belonging to the deceased. Some of the of the treasures belonging to the deceased Inka were enshrined with the mummy, yet many objects were buried or placed in places where the deceased occupied during life (Cobo, 1990 [1653]). Because these objects were made for the ruler’s use when he was alive, Inka believed that no other person should use these objects after his death; they were considered property and remain at the service of their owner (Cobo, 1990 [1653]).

A variety of artifacts that denote the individual’s sacred status would accompany the qhapaq hucha during the capacocha. A male qhapaq hucha would be carefully entombed in a pit or bottom of a deep shaft. He would be seated, and around him would be placed or he would wear various offerings—Spondylus shell, an llawt´u (head band), a medallion, and a bracelet (Besom, 2009), along with anthropomorphic and zoomorphic statuettes made from gold, silver, copper, or Spondylus (Besom, 2010).

Just as relics served to connect Catholic cathedrals along pilgrimage routes oriented around Vatican City—the seat of the Roman Catholic faith, the qhapaq hucha were immolated in shrines that had a particular relationship with the Inka capital, Cusco. Cusco was the center of the ceque system—a series of imagined, ritual pathways radiating from Cusco and along which sacred shrines, or huacas, were placed (Bauer, 1992). Bernabé Cobo (1990 [1563]) first noted that the ceques of Cusco radiated out from the Koricancha and Bauer (1992) later found that many ceques do in fact originate at the Inka’s main temple.

Interestingly, the ceques, shrines, and the capacocha ceremony all may be intertwined. During capacocha, the selected children were taken to Cuzco and then distributed to the principal huacas—places believed to be imbued with sacred power—to be ritually sacrificed. These places were sacred shrines and sites in and around Cusco that were specifically for the offerings of children. Shrines that were further away required long processions and upon their arrival took part in festivals (Besom, 2010). Additionally, a number of Inka shrines had an oracular function, so whenever the Inkas asked for advice on important matters, they dispatched children to these shrines as immolations (Besom, 2010).

Besom (2009) argues that the child sacrifices reified the social stricter and political organization of the empire, particularly the asymmetrical relationship between Cuzco, the center of political and religious authority in the state, and the hinterlands. The capacocha was also intertwined with Inka economy—preforming these ceremonies were vital to good weather, water availability, and agricultural production (Benson, 2009). Considering the socio-economic and religious importance of the shrines and the qhapaq hucha, the capacocha ceremony is a religion procession that resembles a pilgrimage. Shrines are similar to churches and holy places that enshrine relics and the qhapaq hucha are, indeed, similar to the relics themselves. Interestingly, the ceque system links many of the shrines to Cusco as well as the Inka’s main temple—the Koriconcha—while Catholic churches also conceptually link themselves to the center of the Roman Catholic Church—the Vatican.

Capacocha of teenage girl, Museum of High Altitude Archaeology, Salta, Argentina

Bodies of Ancestors and Saints

The Catholic incursion into Peru sought to displace the visible role of the dead in the construction of social organization within the community (Sillar, 1992). In particular, the Spanish imposed a series of saint day celebrations; yet, such saint days have been adapted to serve the needs of Andean communities (Sillar, 1992). New Spanish towns in the Andes were named for a saint, and the likenesses of martyrs, apostles, and founders of religious orders were placed alongside images of Christ and the Virgin in the altar decorations and murals of churches. In the Andes, the annual celebration of the town’s patron became a major event in public ritual life. Individual saints were remembered on a daily basis. In fact, Felipe Guaman Poma, an Andean chronicler, incorporated the feasts of the saints in his monthly calendar of colonial Andean ceremonial life (Guaman Poma de Ayala, 1980 [1615/1616]).

Despite these incorporations of saints and celebrations into Andean life, indigenous populations continued to treat images and statues of saints in the same manner they treated their ancestral mummies. Chroniclers wrote that the Andean people intentionally mummified the bodies of their forbearers in order to worship them. The spirit of the ancestral mummy was thought to reside in the group’s place of origin, and could be called back to the mummy for consultation (Salomon, 1995). Jesuit missionary Jose de Acosta argued that the transformation of a body, in this case the body of an Andean ancestor, into an object of veneration was the equivalent to making what the Spanish missionaries deemed a “false” religious image, or idol. (Ramos, 2010).

All Saints’ Day, Peru

A religion that combines Catholic as well as Andean perceptions on the nature of ancestral and saints’ bodies persists in modern-day Peru. The ceremony of Corpus Cristi preformed by the Sonqueños in south-central Peru is an excellent example that demonstrates the syncretism between Inka capacocha ceremony and Catholic religious celebrations. Corpus Cristi is a moveable feast, falling in late May or June (on Thursday after Trinity Sunday). About thirty Sonqueños embark on an arduous journey to the distant peaks of Qoyllur Riti range. According to legend, a miracle took place at Qoyllur Riti: the Christ Child appeared to a shepherd boy from the nearby village of Tayankani. After playing with the shepherd boy, the Christ Child disappeared into a rock, which was ever after marked with his imprint (Allen, 2002).

The Qoyllur Riti mountain range represents three important tenants in the Sonqueños’ Andean religion: the Riti (the snow), the Taytakuna (the fathers), and the great Apus (Lord Mountains). The rock bearing Christ´s image, now enclosed in a concrete chapel, is a prototype of Sonqo´s own small taytacha—a small portable shrine consisting of a red three-sided wooden box, about one foot square and six inches deep, painted inside with a simple picture of the crucified Christ. Their powerful object, the taytacha, begins with ritual travels within Sonqo, for he is carried around the community for contributions, then visits churches and households. After weeks of preparation, the taytacha sets out on a procession that transcends the community, leading the pilgrims through a landscape of greater and more powerful Places. During Corpus Cristi, the Sonqueños traveling to the glacier peak, carrying the tayacha with them. This ritual allows the Sonqueños to confirm their relationship with the Sacred Places of regional importance and reestablish themselves as an ayllu (Allen, 2002).

The Corpus Cristi exhibits several aspects of both Andean and Catholic religions. The journey itself is described as a pilgrimage to celebrate a Catholic miracle, yet the journey itself is similar to that of the capacocha ceremony: images of the individuals who embody purity and perfection (the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ) accompany the caravan and are taken to a mountain peak emplaced with both Andean and Catholic sacredness. The Qoyllur Riti mountain range remains to be a sacred site for the Sonqueños, be it similar to that of a Catholic pilgrimage site, or an Andean shrine. The goal of the journey is reestablish the ayllu’s social-economic ties within their community with a particular recognizing their ancient connection to the community’s ancestors, be they abstract ancestors in the afterlife, or the bones in the nearby chullpas, but not, unfortunately, the mummified remains venerated by their Inka forbearers. In sum, the Corpus Cristi ceremony combines both Catholic beliefs and Andean traditions, particularly the use of images of saints and holy individuals in lieu of actual bodies. The Sonqueños thus honor their Inka forbearers while also actively involving Catholic beliefs into their worldview.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the syncretism of Andean religion and Catholicism is apparent in the treatment of the mummified body through time. The perception of the preserved bodies of saints in Catholicism and Andean religion is quite similar in that both religions share similar perceptions on the post-mortem agency and socio-political power the bodies possess. This allowed for the Andean people to both readily accept and quickly modify Catholicism to fit into their ideology. The body, especially the mummified corpse, is therefore a power object that is both maintained and transformed by social and cultural forces in the Andes.

Works cited 

Allen, K. (2002). The Hold Life Has. Smithsonian Institution: Washington D.C.

Andrien, K. (2008). Andean Worlds: indigenous History, Culture, and Consciousness Under Spanish Rule, 1532-1825. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

Ayala, G. P. Nueva corónica y buen gobierno. (F. Pease, Ed.) Caracas: Biblioteca Ayacucho.

Bauer, B. (1992). Ritual Pathways of the Incas: An Analysis of the Collasuyu Ceques in Cuzco. Latin American Antiquity , 3 (3), 183-205.

Besom, T. (2010). Inka Sacrifice and the Mummy of Salinas Grandes. Latin American Antiquity, 21 (4), 399-422.

Besom, T. (2009). Of Summits and Sacrifice: An Ethnohistoric Study of Inka Religious Practices. Austin : University of Texas Press.

Bynum, C. (1995). Why All the Fuss About the Body? A Medievalist’s Perspective. Critical Inquiry , 22 (1), 1-33.

Ceruti, M. (2003). Llullaillaco: Sacrificios y ofrendas en un santuario inca de alta montaña. Salta: Instituto de Investigaciones de Alta Montanã, Universidad Católica de Salta.

Chamberlain, A. P. (2001). Earthly Remains . New York: Oxford University Press.

Cieza de Leon, P. (1959 [1553]). The Inca of Pedro de Cieza de León. In V. W. Hagen (Ed.), The Inca (H. d. Onis, Trans.). Norman: University of Oklahoma Press.

Cobo, B. (1979 [1653]). History of the Inca Empire . (R. Hamilton, Ed., & R. Hamilton, Trans.) Austin : University of Texas Press.

Cobo, B. (1990 [1653]). Inca Religion and Customs. (R. Hamilton, Ed., & R. Hamilton, Trans.) Austin: University of Texas Press.

Cussen, C. (2005). The Search for Idols and Saints in Colonial Peru: Linking Extirpation and Beatification. Hispanic American Historical Review , 85 (3), 417-448.

Dean, C. (2010). The After-life of Inka Rulers: Andean Death Before and After Spanish Colonization. In J. B. Cortez (Ed.), Death and Afterlife in the Early Modern Hispanic World (pp. 27-54). Hispanic Issues On Line 7.

Dillehay, T. (1995). Introduction. In Tombs for the Living: Andean Mortuary Practices (pp. 1-26). Washington D.C.: Dumbarton Oraks Research Library and Collection.

Doyle, M. (1988). Ancestor Cult and Burial Ritual in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century, Central Peru. Los Angeles: Disseratation University of California, Los Angeles.

Duviols, P. (1977). La destrucción de las religiones andinas (conquista y colonia). Mexico D.F.: Universidad Autónoma Nacional de México.

Edwards, P. (1997). A display of faith (religious relics). Practicing Catholic , 62 (1), 1.

Gaither, C., Kent, J., Víctor, V., & and Teresa, R. (2008). Mortuary Practices and Human Sacrifice in the Middle Chao Valley of Pery: Their Interpretation in the Context of Andean Mortyary Patterning. Latin American Antiquity , 19 (2), 107-121.

Geary, P. (1986). Sacred Commodities: the circulation of medieval relics. In A. Appadurai (Ed.), The Social Life of Things: Commodities in cultural perspective (pp. 169-191). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Gose, P. (1994). Deathly Waters and Hungry Mountains: Agrarian Ritual and Class Formation in an Andean Town. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

Harris, O. (1982). The Dead and the Devils among the Bolivian Laymi. In Death and the Regeneration of Life. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Jeremiah, K. (2012). Christian Mummification: An Interpretative History of the Preservation of Saints, Martyrs and Others. Jefferson : McFarland & Company, Inc.

Linares, E. (1966). Restos arqueológicos en el nevado Pichu Pichu (Arequipa, Perú). Anales de arqueología y etnología , 21, 7-41.

Pearson, M. (2008). The Archaeology of Death and Burial . College Station: Texas A&M University Press.

Pizarro, P. (1978 [1571]). Relación del descunrimiento y conquista del Perú. Lima: Pontificia Universidad Católica del Perú.

Rakita, G., & Buikstra, J. (2005). Introduction. In G. B. Rakita, Interacting with the Dead: Perspectives on Mortyary Archaeology for the New Millennium (pp. 1-14). Gainsville:

University of Florida Press.

Ramos, G. (2010). Death and Conversion in the Andes: Lima and Cuzco, 1532-1670. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press.

Reinhard, J. (1999). Children of Inca Sacrifice Found Frozen in Time . National Geographic , 196 (5), 36-55.

Reinhard, J. (1996). Peru’s Ice Maidens: Unwrapping the Sacrets . National Geographic , 5 (4), 62-81.

Reinhard, J., & Constanza, C. (2000). Investigaciones arqueológicas en el volcán Llullaillaco: Complejo ceremonial incaico de alta montaña. Salta: Universidad Católica de Salta .

Rowe, J. (1995). Behavior and Belief in Ancient Peruvian Mortuary Practice . In Tombs for the Living (pp. 27-42). Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection.

Salomon, F. (1995). “The Beautiful Grandparents”: Andean Ancestor Shrines and Mortuary Ritual as Seen Through Colonial Records. In Tombs for the Living (pp. 355-378). Washington D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collections.

Salomon, F. A. (1991). The Huarichirí Manuscript, a Testament of Ancient and Colonial Andean Religion. Austin: University of Texas Press.

Sharf, R. (1992). The Idolization of Enlightenment: On the Mummification of Ch’an Masters in Mediveval China. History of Religion , 32 (1), 1-31.

Sillar, B. (1992). Social Life of the Andean Dead. Archaeological review from Cambridge , 11, 107-123.

Sofaer, J. (2008). The Body as Material Culture: A Theoretical Osteoartchaeology. Cambrdige: Cambrdge University Press.

Taylor, G. (1987). Ritos y tradicioines de Huarochirí del siglo XVII. Lima : Instituto de Estudios Peruanos/Instituto Francés de Estudios Andinos, Historia Andina 12.

Tung, T. (2014). Agency, ‘Til Death Do Us Part? Inquiriing about the Agency of Dead Bodies from the Ancient Andes. Cambridge Archaeological Journal , 24, 437-452.

Vago, M. (2007). Piccoli storie di grandi santi [Short histories of great saints]. Rome: Edizioni Messagero.

Vega, G. I. (1966 [1609]). Royal Commentaries of the Incas and General History of Peru: Part One. Austin: University of Texas Press.

Forensic anthropology Methodologies: Excavations of Mass Grave sites with Comingled Skeletonized Remains

This week I will explore how forensic anthropologists determine whether or not a human rights violation occurred by utilizing particular techniques developed by forensic practitioners as well as interdisciplinary methods used by archaeologists. Forensic archaeologists employ a variety of methods when excavating mass graves, paying particular attention to whether or not individuals were buried or reburied multiple times by examining the placement and position of the victims’ remains, the associated artifacts, and taphonomic changes to the bone. Collection of evidence and detailed description of mass graves are necessary to reconstruct the events that transpired and ultimately to prosecute the alleged perpetrators of war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide.

Forensic teams investigating human rights violations enlist the help of a forensic archaeologist, who is trained in identifying how a gravesite was formed, filled, and concealed, along with taphonomic alterations to the gravesite and the humans remains.

There are several questions a forensic archaeologist must answer while excavating mass grave sites

How many bodies it takes to constitute a “mass” grave?

-Need only two or more bodies

-Actual examples in Croatia created after the disintegration of the former Yugoslavia: 3-750 bodies

-Yet, a grave containing one individual does not necessarily mean that a human rights violation did not occur

So what constitutes a “mass” grave? 

Main definitive factor: nature of the body deposition and manner of which bodies were handled that reflect disrespect. They are distinct from other mass burials in which bodies are carefully placed, indicating a degree of care or at least forethought

How do forensic teams describe gravesites? Is there a gravesite typology?

There is a general typology forensic archaeologists follow when identifying, describing, and excavating mass gravesites

Execution site: location in which multiple individuals are executed; possibly see skeletal materials, bullet cartridges, shredded clothing, human blood and tissue fragments visible on either the ground surface or obscured by grave put or a similar feature intended to inter the human remains and other relevant evidence of a crime

Temporary surface deposition sites: characterized by the presence of residual clothing, personal effects, blood, and bone fragments; the body or bodies were once at this site, and then moved to another location after execution, possibly in an attempt to better hide the crime. Skeletal remains may exhibit taphonomic changes (i.e. weathering, sun-bleaching, insect cases, carnivore damage).

Primary inhumation site: An intentionally constructed pit in which to dispose bodies; typically contains multiple individuals who have been executed and interred soon after death and who share a related cause and manner of death; note that the PIS may be located far from where the victims were killed; human remains disposed in a disorderly manner and associated with evidence of execution, such as bullets and shrapnel; there should be no taphonomic changes, as there should have been no disruption of the natural decomposition process (expect to see “feather-edging” when the peripheral bodies of the bod mass are less preserved than those in the core of the assemblage)

Secondary inhumation site: Remains are removed from the primary inhuman site and moved to a clandestinely created grave; typically, transporting the materials usually results in disarticulation of the skeletal resulting in a disarticulated and commingled remains in a secondary inhumation site

Robbed or looted inhumation sites: Once the remains have been removed from a primary inhumation gravesite, the gravesite is then defined as a “robbed or looted inhumation site.” Usually the perpetrators clandestinely remove the remains for the purpose of creating a secondary inhumation site known to a minimum number of informants. The RLIS will include: clothing, hair, ballistics, and other items small enough to be left behind

This type of grave in particular is important to international tribunals because it assists in linking and reconstructing the sequence of events experienced by the victims

How do forensic archaeologists handle skeletonized human remains?

An additional goal is to maximize collection of disarticulated and commingled skeletal remains in the best possible condition

There are two primary excavation methods: pedestaling and stratigraphic, or “basin” method. The pedestal method focuses on exposing the body or bodies; stratigraphic, or basin method in which the excavator maintains the integrity of the grave features (i.e. grave walls) and its contents

Tuller and Duric (2006) found that the stratigraphic method 1.) had a lower number of unassociated bones; 2.) better maintained the provenience and articulation of remains and 3.) higher recovery rate of smaller bones compared to the team using the pedestal method

Case Study: “Ethnic Cleansing” of Northwestern Bosnia

The anthropological protocol implemented during the investigation mass graves is illustrated from the excavations of mass graves from the “ethnic cleansing” of Northwestern Bosnia in 1992. Hundreds of individuals were disposed in an open cast mine in Northwest Bosnia after being removed by a mechanical excavator from a primary burial site. The perpetrators relocated the remains to a new site, an open cast mine in northwestern Bosnia, and were not particularly systemic or careful with the exhumation, resulting in unnecessary disarticulation of the remains (Baraybar and Gasior, 2006). In the second burial site, one of the walls in the pit was blown up with explosives, causing an avalanche of rubble and rocks that covered the slope, which damaged and caused mixture of the bodies (Baraybar and Gasior, 2006). When the Bosniak Commission on Missing Persons excavated the bodies in 2001, it was crucial for the forensic practitioners to recognize that the final burial site was, in fact, not the primary burial pit and that the remains were interred multiple times and were even subject to taphonomic changes not related to the actual crime (Baraybar and Gasior, 2006). Additionally, the stratigraphic, “basining” excavation method of the primary burial site revealed that the grave pit itself was man-made, suggesting that the disposal of the individuals was premeditated and the perpetrators attempted to hide their transgression (Baraybar and Gasior, 2006).

In sum, archaeological field methods combined with the goals of forensic anthropology specialty affords practitioners and individuals investigating crimes against humanity the opportunity to scientifically investigate mass gravesites. Reconstructing the events that transpired and determining whether or not a mass killing was premeditated together may provide strong evidentiary support for a crime against humanity.

See articles for more information: 

Baraybar, P., & Gasior, M. (2006). Forensic Anthropology and the Most Probable Cause of Death in Cases of Violations Against International Humanitarian Law: An Example from Bosnia and Herzegovina. Journal of Forensic Science , 51 (1), 103-108.

Jessee, E., & Skinner, M. (2005). A typology of mass grave and mass grave-related sites. Forensic Science International , 152, 55-59.

Schmitt, S. (2002). Mass graves and the collection of forensic evidence: genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity. In W. Haglund, & M. Sorg (Eds.), Advances in Forensic Taphonomy: Method, Theory and Archaeological Perspectives (pp. 277-292). New York: CRC Press.

Skinner, M. (1987). Planning the archaeological recovery of evidence from recent mass graves. Forensic Science International , 34, 267-287.

Skinner, M., Alempijevic, D., & Djuric-Srejic, M. (2003). Guidelines for international forensic bio-archaeology monitors of mass grave exhumantions. Forensic Science International , 134, 81-92.

Tuller, H., & Duric, M. (2006). Keeping the pieces together: Comparions of mass grave excavation methodology. Forenic Science International , 156, 192-200.

the individuals was premeditated and the perpetrators attempted to hide their transgression (Baraybar and Gasior, 2006).

In sum, archaeological field methods combined with the goals of forensic anthropology specialty affords practitioners and individuals investigating crimes against humanity the opportunity to scientifically investigate mass gravesites. Reconstructing the events that transpired and determining whether or not a mass killing was premeditated together may provide strong evidentiary support for a crime against humanity.

This week in anthropology

Map of Native American tribes you have never seen before 

Mayan cities rediscovered in the Yucatan 

Subway in the sky, new cable car system to link La Paz with El Alto on the plateau 

Peruvian artisans win cash award for weaving in textile contest 

Lessons from the last time civilization collapsed 

“Consider this, if you would: a network of far-flung, powerful, high-tech civilizations closely tied by trade   and diplomatic embassies; an accelerating threat of climate change and its pressure on food production; a rising wave of displaced populations ready to sweep across and overwhelm developed nations. Sound familiar?”

Archaeologists uncover first mass grave from 14th century bubonic plague outbreak, Barcelona

 

What makes humans special? A graphical tour of  our evolutionary advantages starts with anatomy 

The problem when sexism sounds friendly (in academia) 

Are Neanderthals human? Scientist discuss whether or not Neanderthals belong with homo sapiens 

Pre-Columbian mycobacterial genomes reveal seals as a source of New World human tuberculosis

Irish fair skin can be traced back to the Middle East and India 

European man’s remains found in ancient Chinese tomb

Homo floresiensis: scientists clash over claims ‘hobbit man’ was modern human with Down’s syndrome

Meet The Generation Of Incredible Native American Women Fighting To Preserve Their Culture

World’s first 3D printed vertebra implanted in 12-year-old boy

Four Cases of Life-Threatening Plague Found in Colorado

 

 

 

 

 

This week in anthropology, archaeology, bioarchaeology, and bioanthropology

Rare crusade era seal found in Jerusalem 

Chile: Students find 7,000 year old Chinchurro mummy 

Enhanced images reveals paintings at Angkor Wat 

Long lost mummy of Pharaoh AmenotephII’s foster brother found in monastery near Pisa, Italy 

Grave find may be Western Europe’s earliest human tooth 

Court rules on final resting place for Richard III’s, London

First contact with European’s through indigenous eyes

Hidden Wari tomb reveals a treasure trove of undisturbed remains, Peru 

Villager dips fishing net in river and caught Bronze Age/4,000 year old pagan god, Turkey 

Climate change doomed the ancients 

What can you do with a humanities Ph.D.? 

Is species extinction happening 1000 times faster because of humans? 

Access to environmental education must be part of a positive future for Virgunga, its communities and wildlife 

3D model of Richard III’s spine reveals spiral scoliosis 

8 extreme body modifications from around the world 

East Lothian skeleton may be 10th century Irish Viking king 

Man’s hormonal condition was “eating” his finger bones 

Iran’s old “dwarf city” captivates visitors 

Whatever happened to the great apes of Europe? Went extinct around 7 million years ago 

This week in anthropology, bioarchaeology, and archaeology

Love, sex, and marriage in ancient Mesopotamia 

How to talk to an archaeologist 

The 3 letters of recommendation you must have, via The Professor is In 

Scientists plan DNA test of Inca Ice Princess Juanita, Peru 

Archaeologists discover Pre Columbia mural in Tambo archaeological complex, Pisco providence, Ica, Peru 

National Geographic: Sican culture one of history’s greatest civilizations 

Scanners at British Museum looks inside the heads of ancient mummies 

In an experimental process, Italian scientists have strengthened degraded skeletal fragments said to be relics of St. Clement from the late Middle Ages by growing calcium carbonate crystals on them

Skeleton executed by sword blows to the head poses questions about Norman Conquest 

Archaeologists examine untouched tomb of wealthy Wari woman, Peru 

andean-noble-preserved-bone-615

Investigated red-colored bones  and burial practices in Mesoamerica