Archaeology and education in Postsoviet Russia.
BEREZKIN, YURI E.
Key-words: Russia, soviet, Slav, education, universities, history
In the mid 1980s, anthropologists such as Marcus & Fischer
(1986) called for a `repatriation' of anthropology, bringing the
tools of the discipline to bear on the `home' situations of
Euro-America rather than focusing on `alien, exotic' traditions.
To understand fully the relationship between archaeology and
education in Russia, some background is necessary. In the Soviet Union,
Marxism meant that evolutionary ideas characteristic of the later 19th
century were preserved for another hundred years. Ideal research in the
USSR was not the study of the past but the identification and
confirmation of laws which regulate historical development, supporting
marxism theory. Such Marxist theories, supported by many Russian
intellectuals before the revolution, was afterwards upheld as official
doctrine and disseminated through mass secondary education in the 1920s
and '30s.
The evolutionary paradigm meant that archaeologists focused on
temporal changes in technology and social structure rather than the
problems of cultural development. Migration as explanation was extremely
unpopular, and `cultural' groups identified within USSR territory
were seen as ancestors of contemporary Soviets: in the case of eastern
Europe, usually the ancestors of Eastern Slavs. In the 1940s and
'50s cultures such as Fatianovo, Tripolye, Zarubincy and
Cherniakhov, spread across eastern Europe, were identified as Slavic or
proto-Slavic. Archaeology became an important component of national and
imperial myth.
Archaeology, the main source of prehistoric study, claimed
extensive financial support from the state. Academic prestiege, linked
with opportunities for leading research expeditions, made the discipline
an attractive and respected career choice. In 1965, there were 130
applicants for each of the four places reserved for archaeology at
Leningrad State University; greater competition than any other
departments within the History Faculty. Even after sifting by exam
results, during the 1960s and '70s there were no less than four
applicants for every place in the Archaeology department.
Soviet centralization of the discipline created strong and weak
points. The Academy of Sciences of every Soviet republic had a Field
Committee with exclusive control over issuing permits (`Opened
Lists') for archaeological research. These lists were in three
degrees, the least permitting only reconnaissance and description of
sites. The receivers of Opened Lists were required to present reports of
their research for assessment, upon which further research would depend.
Copies of these reports were also presented to the museums, universities
and academic institutions which had been involved in the research.
Although not all reports fulfilled the requirements of scientific
methodology, they did provide minimal data of research undertaken. This
system still exists, and is effective in preventing amateurish
excavations as well as concentrating all information at major centres
for consultation. However, there is no requirement to publish work, and
at least nine-tenths of reports presented to the Academy remain
unpublished. While in the 1980s 1000 special permits were issued for
archaeological excavations every year within the territory of the
Russian Federation alone (Trifonov 1991: 80), there is a danger of
overlooking previous research.
School history books of the Soviet period had little space for
archaeology (usually a handful of pages including handaxes and early
horticulture), but older schoolchildren had the chance to learn more
through the system of `archaeological circles' (educational
groups), which existed not only at major scientific centres like the
Hermitage or Leningrad State University but also at many provincial
museums, universities and sometimes at the schools themselves; although
precise numbers are unclear, thousands and possibly tens of thousands of
children were in contact with them. Greater numbers of children had the
opportunity to visit archaeological excavations, and sometimes (for
example at the excavation of old Russian towns) older children were
employed as permanent workers during field research. More usually,
however, pupils from nearby schools were brought to site for a short
lecture and an opportunity to shovel earth at the edge of an excavation.
Explanation of research methodology or placing the work in greater
archaeological context was rare; however, the idea of value of material
remains of the past was established; for a number of archaeologists of
Russia, Ukraine and other post-Soviet states this sparked a life-long
interest in archaeology.
Undergraduate and postgraduate university students provided most of
the labour for archaeological expeditions from the Baltic to the Pacific
oceans. Many were not archaeologists but engineers giving up holiday to
assist in research: by returning year after year, a number developed a
good understanding of both field methodology and particular historical
problems associated with each area of research. From the 1960s to the
'80s it was normal for Soviet students to join expeditions and
research groups over the summer vacation: it should be remembered that
during the Soviet era, trips abroad were practically impossible, and
holidays at USSR health resorts were both expensive (by Soviet
standards) and of little interest. The further away and more exotic the
research site, the more prestigious it was considered. Although pay
rates were higher among construction teams, attracting the majority of
young people and providing opportunities for starting careers in
administration and (more recently) business, archaeological research was
seen as more intellectually attractive as well as less physical labour.
Students undertaking archaeological expeditions forged important
relationships, both personal and professional; such a process can be
likened to initiates entering a specific group, and such ties form the
structure of archaeological society -- I myself can confess that most of
my social contacts were created through shared field experiences. Among
the largest and most prestigious archaeological expeditions of the
Leningrad State University include the Pangikent expedition
(northwestern Tadzikistan), Sayan-Tuva expedition (southern Central
Siberia), and to a lesser extent the Kara Kum expedition (southern
Turkmenistan). Between the 1960s and the '80s these expeditions
seemed to us as stable and long-living institutions as the kosmodrome
Bai Konur and the atomic centre at Dubna.
Although I know of no socio-cultural research into the role of
archaeological expeditions in the formation of social contacts and world
view, I would guess that for the educated youth of Petersburg/Leningrad,
such a role was very significant. Another important function of these
expeditions was their contribution to the maintenance of the territorial
unity of Russian society. As large-scale expeditions are now rarely
undertaken, although previous connections have not been totally broken,
the creation of new ones has become a problem which the present-day
conferences are unable to solve: many young people cannot afford to
attend, and the informal atmosphere of living anti working together is
no longer present.
In post-Soviet times the relationship between archaeology and
society has changed. Numbers of non-professionals taking part in
archaeological expeditions has dropped to approximately 1% of previous
levels, research in distant locations has almost completely stopped, and
Russian archaeology is developing greater similarities with Western
archaeology.
The present situation is one of reduced financial support spread
between many organizations, greater excavation costs and increasing
numbers of sites under threat of destruction. Countries such as
Afganistan, Iran and Iraq, popular archaeological destinations, have
been closed for Euro-American researchers, while many others have
toughened up their rules including issuing permits for field research
and moving antiquities across boarders. This has created a situation
where the selection of areas of research is not linked to their
scientific importance or personal preferences of the researcher, but the
need to excavate in advance of construction as well as obtaining grants
from sponsors whose interests may be quite different to those of the
discipline. It can be said that archaeologists have been reduced from
military strategists to mercenaries, excavating where and when the
sponsors dictate. Such a situation has coincided with postmodernist
ideas about the relative nature of values; there is no longer sense in
discussing the comparative importance of researching the origins of
productive economy over the history of a farm abandoned a hundred years
ago. In either case, we are playing a game whose rules we have created,
that have no objective foundation.
Russian archaeological research in the 1990s is dominated by rescue
excavation. Unlike western Europe and North America, there are few
companies prepared to spend any money on non-profit-related
archaeological research, and effective punishment for illegal
destruction of material is non-existent. Once frequent visitors to
construction sites, as in the West, archaeologists are now rarely
present. The whole nature of rescue excatation has changed; during the
1960s and 1970s when huge construction projects were undertaken,
archaeologists were given free range for research options, as only small
parts of the sites could be excavated anyway. Less ambitious
construction has meant choice in excavation has disappeared.
Uncontrolled excavation, rare in the West, has become as common in
Russia as in developing countries, where laws against illegal excavation
and selling of antiquities are weak obstacles against mass plunder: the
only consolation is the general lack of ready cash and low education of
most of the nouveaux riches. This means that the post-Soviet antiquity
market is mostly limited to jewellery and fine pottery from Ancient
Greek settlements and graveyards near the Black Sea. Apart from weapons
and decorations found with soldiers (Soviet and German) of the Second
World War, Siberian, Central Asian and Eastern European objects usually
are not on sale. Attitudes of respect for the past, fostered during the
Soviet era, are waning: however, there is a counter-current linked to
national and religious ideology. Boys and girls who formerly would have
been excavating Bronze or iron Age settlements can now be found cleaning
Orthodox monastery cellars, closed by the communists and reestablished
five or ten years ago. Few young people in present-day Russia have the
opportunity to be involved in archaeological research in the strict
meaning of the word, or at least see `proper' excavations. In
contrast, knowledge of prehistory is much more available.
The study of prehistory has never been restricted to archaeology.
Population genetics, historical linguistics, palaeoecology and other
disciplines often play an equally important part in research. In many
cases, after decades of excavation, archaeological data has become so
voluminous that interpretation and reconstruction has more to do with
archive research than excavation. However, the collapse of Russian field
archaeology has created a pressure to publish and interpret previous
research. Archaeological circles in museums and schools have not been
closed but re-oriented, along with historical education, to appeal to
both children and adults.
As has been previously mentioned, the Soviet world-view was
evolutionary, stemming from a mixture of Marxism and Christian ideas of
history. Although up to the 1920s, some remnant of archaic
calendric-cyclical views may have survived among the peasants, such
ideas had long been abandoned by the urban population. Despite almost
universal secondary education, most adult citizens of the USSR had poor
knowledge of historical events; knowledge that was present was
structured by epochs. These began with `primitive times' (commonly
associated with the image of Neanderthal male killing woolly mammoth at
cave mouth), and highlights included `feudalism', leading to
`modern times' (capitalism and socialism). Chance visitors to
excavations expect archaeologists to be searching for mammoth bone or
gold. Between Neanderthals and feudalism lie ancient Egypt, Greece and
Rome, but such classics have not been an integral part of the
educational system. The lack of widely spread knowledge of the Ancient
World is understandable in a country which (unlike Western, Central and
Southern Europe) was mostly outside their direct influence. Individual
rejections of marxism rarely led to the rejection of evolutionary
theory; it was simply reduced to exclude socialism and peak with
capitalism. In the 1980s (and perhaps in places since the 1960s) non-
and anti-revolutionary views spread across Russian society. The
essential feature of such views is that cultural and social patterns not
extant today were allowed to have existed in the past, including those
considered higher than those of the present. With the breakdown of
communism, such views are becoming increasingly popular, although it is
difficult to say how prevalent or localized they are. What is clear is a
destructuration of the past, and loss of orientation in time. Many
humanities students (and doubtless many science and technical students)
do not posess a consistent picture of the past, and fail to identify any
large-scale processes therein. It is typical that such people can,
however, have a clear knowledge of events of the Middle Ages and
thereafter.
Large numbers of historical books, albums and encyclopedias have
been published since the late 1980s, aimed specifically at the young.
Graphic and textual information, extremely difficult to obtain in Soviet
times, has become easily available to interested parties. However, the
very multiplicity of sources has become a problem: most publications are
dominated by description of events rather than processes. Books of high
scientific standard share the shelves with kitsch and pure fantasy, and
the sellers know little more about their respective qualities than the
buyers; the same can be said about popular lectures and newspaper
publications, etc. After the abandonment of obligatory study of marxist
historical and political dogmas, tens of thousands of lecturers have
become unemployed, turning to teaching `culturology',
`geopolitics' and the like. Religious-mystical and psychological
treatments of history predominate, and economic treatments are often
neglected or vulgarized. Archaeology has retained its academic position,
although its treatment has become tendentious and selective. Most
attention is given to the nature of a dozen or so sites such as
Stonehenge and Arcaim-Sintashta, abstracted from their historical
context. If present-day tendencies continue (which seems likely), the
next generation of Russians will live in a society with knowledge of
300-400 years of history at best, lacking archaeology as an integral
part of the systemic knowledge about the world. Practically, such a
society already exists. Since the late 1970s the number of young people
who would like to study archaeology has been dropping, and is now lower
than the number of university places available. At the moment,
archaeology is one of the most undesirable choices for the Russian
young: among the humanities the most popular seem to be those that
permit students to avoid the study of particular people living at a
particular time and concentrate on the topics that could be treated
outside a concrete historical context (such as philosophy, phylology,
history of art). It is not by chance that the books of mathematician
Anatoly Fomenko have become top bestsellers in the Russia of the 1990s.
Fomenko (developing the ideas of famous revolutionary Morozov) has
reduced world written history to about 1000 years, identifying as one
and the same peoples and places of different epochs and countries. Based
on misinterpreted or inaccurate astronomical data, his books, both by
their content and by their style, should lack credibility for people who
have received secondary, not to say higher education. Nevertheless,
Russian journalists and editors, school-teachers and physicians take
them for real science, such a hypothesis being as good as any other.
This disappearance of world history (either its chaotic dispersion or
its reduction to the history of the last centuries) is accompanied by
the increase of knowledge about more recent events. Many history books
of the 19th and 20th centuries disappear from shop shelves immediately
after publication. It seems that in case of Stalin or Napoleon we are
dealing mostly with facts and not processes. Facts are understandable to
people who have very a confused or distorted world view. By recombining
the facts, people gladly create and believe in personal versions of
history. Liberated from the censorship of the Communist state, the
Russians enjoy their new freedom.
However, there is no need to overestimate the danger of the loss of
archaeology, and science, from modern Russia. Many societies of the
past, including quite successful ones, possessed no `history' in
the present sense, instead prefering fantasy. The `historic'
mentality of the Soviet people was illusory: it differed from more
common mythologies mainly because of an official co-ordination between
mythological epochs and the `real' chronology, measured in years.
For the common people, historic events, as far as they were familiar to
them, existed not in history but in the `Time of Creation', while
real, understandable time had the depth of about five generations,
typical for traditional societies. Russian scientists, archaeologists
among them, should probably abandon the hopeless attempt to carry their
knowledge to the masses, and concentrate on the education of small
groups of young people who could preserve and develop the scientific
tradition. Practically, it is just what we have been doing during the
last years (Berezkin 1997).
References
BEREZKIN, Y.E. 1997. Marginal elite: The results and perspectives
of humanitarian training of schoolchildren of Saint-Petersburg in the
middle of the 90s. Paper presented to the Conference `Professionalism,
Education, Moral, and the Future of Russia', May-June 1997. Moscow:
International Research and Exchange Board.
MARCUS, G.E. & M. FISCHER. 1986. Anthropology as cultural
critique. An experimental moment in the human science. Chicago (IL):
University of Chicago Press.
TRIFONOV, V.A. 1991. Why so little is known about modern Soviet
Archaeology: archaeological data in the USSR -- collection, storage and
exploitation. World Archaeological Bulletin 5: 77-85.
YURI E. BERENZKIN, Institute for the History of Material Culture,
Saint-Petersburg, Russia.