Value Base of Social Anthropology

The Value-Base of Social Anthropology: The Context of India in Particular [and Comments andReply]Author(s): Ramkrishna Mukherjee, Xavier Albó, J. V. Ferreira, Renate Von Gizycki, GutormGjessing, Kathleen Gough, Delmos J. Jones, David G. Mandelbaum, Xto. G. Okojie, K.Paddayya, Michel Panoff, Satish Saberwal and Monica WilsonSource: Current Anthropology, Vol. 17, No. 1 (Mar., 1976), pp. 71-95Published by: The University of Chicago Press on behalf of Wenner-Gren Foundation forAnthropological ResearchStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2741586 .

Accessed: 22/01/2014 03:36

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

The University of Chicago Press and Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research are collaboratingwith JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Current Anthropology.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 196.3.96.193 on Wed, 22 Jan 2014 03:36:46 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=ucpress

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=wennergren

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=wennergren

http://www.jstor.org/stable/2741586?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY Vol. 17, No. 1, March 1976 ? 1976 by The Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research

The Value-Base of Social Anthropology:

The Context of India in Particular

by Ramkrishna Mukherjee

ILLUSION AND REALITY

I

Social anthropology, in alliance or identity with sociology, is concerned with human society. This is one of the three dimensions of variation in appraising reality, as expressed in Indian philosophy by the phrase sthdna-kalaf-patra. The patra (object) dimension of variation for social anthropology being established, I shall delimit the sthana (place) and kala (time) dimensions in contemporary India. Hence, I shall ask, To what extent have we succeeded in understanding what is happening in Indian society, how it is happening, why it is happening, and what will happen in the immediate future?

I shall take it for granted that social anthropology has attained the stage of theoretical and methodological development in which it can answer these questions. In general, theorizing no longer follows the principle that, while reproducing the

RAMKRISHNA MUKHERJEE has been Research Professor of Sociology at the Indian Statistical Institute, Calcutta, since 1957. Born in 1919, he was educated at Calcutta University (M.Sc., 1941) and at Cambridge (Ph.D., 1948). He has served as Additional Director of the Indian Statistical Institute (1970-72); Guest Professor at the Humboldt University in Berlin (1953-57); Consultant, London School of Economics (1952); Director, Field Research Survey, Indian Statistical Institute (1950-51); Consultant, Government of Turkey (1949); and Chief Research Officer to His Majesty's Social Survey, London (1948-49). He is a member of the Executive Committee and the Editorial Committee of the International Sociological Association (1974-78) and advisor to many social science journals and institutions in India and abroad. His research experience includes work in India, U.K., France, Germany, Sweden, Czechoslovakia, Turkey, and Uganda. His present concerns are the study of social change and development in India today, research methodology, application of statistical principles and methods in empirical social research, etc. His publications include The Problem of Uganda (Berlin: Akademie, 1956); The Dynamics of a Rural Society (Berlin: Akademie, 1957); The Sociologist and Social Change in India Today (New Delhi: Prentice-Hall, 1965); Six Villages of Bengal (2d edition, Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1971); The Rise and Fall of the East India Company (4th edition, New York: Monthly Review Press, 1974); and Social Indicators (Delhi: Macmillan, 1975). In addition, he has published nearly 100 articles in internationally known journals.

The present paper, submitted in final form 9 iv 75, was sent for comment to 50 scholars. Their responses are printed below and are followed by a reply by the author.

viewpoint of only one Master from the West is plagiarism, an articulation of several such viewpoints is a theoretical study. Empiricism is no longer reduced to the "open-minded" obser- vations of travellers or the hit-and-run manoeuvres of analysts with respect to any sort of collection of "field data." Also, the once prevailing dichotomy of theoreticians and fieldworkers as first- and second-class subjects in the kingdom of social anthropology is fast losing its relevance.

There is now an increasing awareness that a theory does no more than assert a claim to generalization beyond the place- time-object circuit in which it was developed. Accordingly, our attention, in unfolding social reality in India, is drawn to the relative usefulness of one or another theory, or one or another interpretation of the Grand Theories. In short, theories have turned into series of hypotheses. In this context, while the use of statistical tools and techniques to test hypotheses was once laughed at, or merely tolerated, since the 1960s they have more and more been considered essential to empirical studies in social anthropology, even by those who previously opposed them.

Yet, what has been our achievement in revealing social reality?

With great expectations, the Community Development Project was launched in the 1950s to change the face of India. Social anthropologists, particularly, accorded it an enthusiastic reception in papers, books, and even presidential addresses to learned gatherings. But did the Project achieve its objective, or did it merely produce another social science research institution?

In the 1 960s, social anthropologists and other social scientists spoke of how green the "Green Revolution" was. Why did the greenery fail to spread, and why does it now appear, according to some reports, to be drying up in its "seedbed"?

In the 1970s, social anthropologists, and other social scientists are talking of poverty, inequality, and the "weaker sections" of the society. The major thrust of the research of the Anthropological Survey of India appears to be with reference to these themes. But what has been our substantive appraisal of reality in their context? Have we reached a consensus on the conceptual and analytical properties of poverty and inequality? Or are we just talking vaguely about the phenomena in tune with the slogan of Garibi Hatao ("Drive Out Poverty")? Have we identified the "weaker sections" of Indian society precisely and comprehensively? Or are we merely using the juridical categories of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, or the idea of Backward Classes, in that context? Is it not a fact that these categories contain very powerful persons-

Vol. 17 N No. 1* March 1976 71



economically and politically? At any rate, is it not a fact that, from their first formulation, these categories have ground a political axe?

Again, while national integration remains a perennial topic for social research in independent India, are we not constantly faced with one or another facet of alienation in one or another segment of our society?

Scattered as these examples are, they prompt us to enquire whether we are justifying our role in society while accumulating knowledge in our discipline or whether, on the other hand, we are merely playing second fiddle to what are commonly labelled the Establishment and the Opposition. Are we, in our work, just substantiating or denouncing political slogans?

II

This state of affairs is not unique to India. In virtually all world societies, the social sciences have become or are becoming the handmaiden of politics. Nevertheless, counterefforts have also emerged to pursue knowledge for the benefit of the people at large rather than any coterie of politicians or other interest group. This trend is reflected in the organization of a session on "Ideology and the Education of Anthropologists" at the IXth International Congress of Anthropological and Ethnological Sciences held in Chicago in 1973.

It has become necessary to discuss ideology and education because anthropologists' value-base and the consequent fruits of their labour may obscure reality or even distort it. The people need an objective and comprehensive appraisal of reality if they are to mould their present and future for freedom, peace, and prosperity. The purpose of education has been succinctly put in a Sanskrit sloka: sa vidyaya bimuktaye, "that is education which frees oneself." And "freedom" has been aptly defined by one thinker as the recognition of necessity. Thus, for the betterment of humanity, we require unbiassed knowledge of social reality. Establishing the value-base from which social anthropologists can attain this objective is, thus, an important problem.

In this context, we need not be concerned with those few who, in the name of science, operate for sectarian or personal ends. Their value-base is irrelevant or detrimental to the task. There is, however, a large mass of social anthropologists whose devotion to science and society is unquestioned, but whose conceptualization of and methodology for unfolding social reality deserve critical evaluation. Firstly, therefore, I shall examine how and why we have portrayed the reality of a society in one or another manner.

In order that my attempt not be misconstrued to refer to the unique characteristics of any society or to the social anthropologists of any particular national affiliation, I shall consider two societies that differ geographically, historically, and contemporarily: India and Uganda. I shall refer to the works of several reputable social anthropologists and some sociologists. It is not my intention to impute motives to their activities or judgements, although I may discuss them rather more sharply than is usual in sedate academic gatherings. My purpose is to expose the lacunae in our discharging our responsibility as scientists, and not in any other role in society which we may assume simultaneously or subsequently. I, therefore, assume the stand "not to accuse or excuse" (Myrdal 1971:213). I trust everyone will subscribe to this academic impersonality.

III

In the 1 920s, when the Indian national movement was found to have attained formidable magnitude, the British government

sent a Royal Commission on Agriculture and a Statutory Com- mission to visit the subcontinent. The first came to the conclusion: "The desire to accumulate money is not the characteristic of rural society" (Royal Commission on Agriculture in India 1928:6). The second declared: "Any quickening of general political judgement, any widening of rural horizons ... is bound to come very slowly indeed" (Indian Statutory Com- mission 1930:15).

The second viewpoint was strongly resented by the Indian national leaders, but the fallacy of the first went unnoticed by them as well as by the general run of social scientists. Gandhiji had already inspired a band of economists to undertake village studies, the focus of which was on how poorly the villagers lived because of colonial exploitation and neglect of the welfare of the people (e.g., Kumarappa 1931, Shukla 1937). Another slant was added to this exposition of social reality in some places (e.g., Bengal) by focussing attention on the oppression of the peasantry by the landlords (Huque 1939: vi). Meanwhile, the peasant movement was gaining in momentum with the declaration that it had three enemies to contend with: colonial rule, the landlords, and the big landholders-cum-moneylenders known in Bengal asjotedars (Mukherjee 1957).

These vignettes of rural India in the last days of British rule were all partially true. The majority of the people did not demand a luxurious life and led a parochial existence, but it was equally true that the market for luxury goods was pene- trating into rural areas and contacts beyond the rural horizons were spreading through cinema, newspaper, road transport, etc., on the one hand, and the political movement, external markets, banking activities, etc., on the other. The portrayal of a miserable village life was true, but it was equally true that even within the limited range of income in the rural areas inequality of income distribution was marked (Mukherjee 1957: 4-5). The pointer on the oppression of peasants by absentee landlords was valid, but it was no less true that the newly emerging landed gentry was reaping greater profit than the landlords from usury and sharecropping (Mukherjee 1957:49). Finally, although a study of the cost of cultivation of paddy showed that it was less profitable for the impoverished peasants to earn their living as sharecroppers than as wage-labourers, they preferred sharecropping because: (a) they could still main- tain their social status as chasigrihastha ("husbandmen") instead of being demoted to the rank of "labourers," and (b) they felt more confidence in remaining employed through the greater part of the year than they would have felt as wage-labourers (Land Revenue Commission of Bengal 1940:67; Mukherjee 1971a: 115, 120).

Here, thus, was a field composed of different facets of reality unilaterally stressed by different interest groups in describing the reality par excellence. Social anthropologists should have undertaken the task of ascertaining the relative relevance of these facets of reality in order to depict its substantive character and, on that basis, to denote the dynamics of the rural society. Seldom, however, has this been done. What is more important, a shift in the orientation of social anthropologists in this direction is still lacking, although "village studies" have become one of their major preoccupations since the 1950s (e.g., Marriott 1955).

Meanwhile, reality has asserted itself. In India, the peasant movement was (and, often, still is) regarded as beyond the frame of reference of the "scientist." But, while scientists thus maintained their sanctity, the movement reached a climax in Bengal, in 1946-47, under the banner of tebhaga (the demand of the sharecroppers for a two-thirds, and not the prevalent half, share of the crop). It spread over the Telengana region of Andhra Pradesh and other parts of independent India, and it still continues in one form or another; the so-called Naxalites (the adherents of the Communist Party: Marxist-Leninist) emerged primarily on the basis of the peasant movement, and

72 CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY



Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY the perennial upheavals on the economic and political scene are said to be rooted in its "peasant society."

How many social anthropologists, engrossed in "village studies" in India, have felt a concern to study and learn from the peasant movement? One or two who did in the 1940s were castigated. Even today, how many diagnostic studies have we on the peasant movement in India by social anthropologists? Political scientists have recently made some worthwhile studies of the peasant movement, but is this phenomenon exclusively (or even mainly) political? Does it not involve the core of rural life, as we saw in the days of Gandhiji's satyagraha and as we are being made increasingly aware by the upheavals in various parts of India?

How, then, have social anthropologists been able to unfold social reality through their more than 25 years' study of "Village India"? The days are perhaps gone when an anthropologist's study of one village was first categorized as "my village," then as "our village," and eventually as "the Indian village." But, while from the beginning village studies showed that in many essentials rural life cuts across village boundaries, the "village" has consistently been reckoned a unit of society. Seldom has conceptual clarification been demanded as to whether the village is a unit or a variable for appraising the mechanics of rural society (Mukherjee 1961a).

Such an enforced "micro" approach has left the field of appraisal of social reality deliberately obscure. Moreover, conceptually, this approach is a sequel to the "holistic" approach adopted from the "peasant view of life" portrayed by eminent social anthropologists like Redfield. This was interpreted to convey the image of the "peasants" as forming substantially a homogeneous community. That Redfield's idyllic portrayal of peasant life was sharply contradicted by Lewis (1951:428-35) in reference to Redfield's own field of observation demonstrates how we tend to depict the reality from one or another of its aspects. Instead of learning from this contradiction, however, we went on merely describing the family, kinship, etc., in a village, the clientele (jajmani) system, the operation of the "little" and the "great" tradition, and so on. We did not undertake a dialectical analysis of the contradictions in the society which would reveal the reality.

Eventually, therefore, the rural society of India was interpreted, even by eminent social anthropologists like Bose and Sinha (1961), as a "study in unity and diversity." Mandelbaum (1970) has recently characterized it, in conformity with New- ton's Third Law, as "continuity and change: change and continuity." These and similar efforts do not reveal the dynamics of the rural society. Indeed, it may be no exaggeration to state that they distort reality. Social change is ultimately substan- tiated by the replacement of one social entity by another. The soothing slogan of "unity in diversity" portrays a society which records only social accumulation, one which displays mere fluctuations around a central tendency, like the swing of a pendulum from "continuity" to "change" and back again. Intentionally or not, these studies therefore tend to imply that in this society there is nothing much to worry about as to the consequences of what is happening, how it is happening, why it is happening, and what will happen in the immediate future. But the consequences in Indian society have from earliest times taken the form of replacement.

The peasant society of contemporary India is not the same as when Kautilya wrote his arthasastra or when ain-i-akbari was written (Mukherjee 1973a:140-212), and rapid changes are taking place at present, as heralded, for example, by the peasant movement. Hence, the portrayal of rural India as "unity in diversity" or as a swing to and fro may conform to the dictum of maya ("illusion") propounded by the renowned Indian philosopher Sankara. Neither helps us to reveal social reality.

IV

To be sure, attempts by social anthropologists to synthesize different aspects of reality and denote the dynamics of society, although infrequent, are not altogether absent. These attempts have given us, among others, the concept of "dominant caste" (Srinivas), the schema of "caste, class, and power" (Beteille), and the idea of the "modernization of tradition" (Singer, Singh). Such concepts, schemata, and models are a step forward in appraising social reality, but their foundation on a deductive orientation and the consequent unilateral or com- partmental emphasis on societal factors may defeat this purpose in the end.

Later, in connection with "Dogmas and Doctrines," I shall have occasion to discuss the model of "tradition to modernity." Here I shall note that the concept of dominant caste does not persuade us to search for the prime characteristics of dominance in the society, for the prime mover in society may not subscribe to the configuration of any particular caste or to the caste system at all (Mukherjee 1973b:45-47). An inkling of this effect is obtained from Srinivas's own definition of "dominant caste." The concept of class is built into it, and classes, identified in terms of the relations of production in society, have been found in many instances in world societies to epitomize their dynamics.

Hence, in any attempt to unfold social reality, social anthropologists should not merely identify, willy nilly, the dominant caste and describe its function. Instead, they should analyze the relation between caste and class. And, what is more important, they should ascertain the necessity of the concept of dominant caste for unfolding social reality in the light of the relative relevance of the concepts of caste, class, and any other homologous or analogous social entity.

In this context, the schema of "caste, class, and power" is useful, but it cannot be efficient unless we answer the following questions on the place-time dimensions of reality in Indian society:

1. Are they contemporarily homologous entities? (Is caste, for example, "fossilized class," as the Socialist Party [1972: 30] has put it?) In that event, what are the specific nuances of causality in Indian society vis-a-vis other world societies?

2. Are they analogous today (Mukherjee 1973a: 157-.69)? This tends to be indicated by the caste structure's surviving by means of the characteristics of the class structure which emerged during British rule and afterwards (Mukherjee 1957, 1961b). In that case, what are the concomitant effects of the caste structure on current social reality in India?

3. Are there indications that the relation between caste and class is becoming more and more casual, in accord with the dominant social forces in contemporary India? If so, what is the probability that they will form two discrete entities like Roman Catholicism and Communism in present-day Italy and France? In such an eventuality, the study of caste will not need to absorb the attention of social anthropologists in India as it does now.

Thus we must determine the causal, concomitant, or contingent relevance of societal factors for revealing social reality. As we have seen with the vignettes of rural India in the last days of British rule, we can find positive and negative evidence for virtually any phenomenon in society. Hence, it is not the manifestation of any such entity, or set of entities, as "dominant class," "caste, class, and power," etc., that is conclusive for the appraisal of social reality, but the relative evaluation of these manifestations.

Such evaluation, however, is not possible with a deductive orientation. This orientation permits us to examine societal

Vol. 17 N No. 1 * March 1976 73



phenomena as to what they are, how they are interrelated, and why they are interrelated in a particular manner. It does not allow us to examine concurrently, or to place equal emphasis on, societal phenomena which are expected to occur but do not occur or, though they occur, are not interrelated in the expected manner, and why the nature of the interrelation varies with place and time.

For this we require an inductive orientation, based on the null hypothesis that no change or alteration occurs in the place- time-object dimensions of reality. Pursuant to this null hypothesis and in the light of the available theories and empirical information, we can formulate series of alternative hypotheses referring to one or another manner of change in society. Sys- tematically, thereafter, we can test these hypotheses in the field situation and thereby draw ever more valid and efficient inferences as to the relative relevance of societal factors for depicting reality in the place-time dimensions of variation.

In this manner we can appreciate dialectically the positive and negative aspects of reality, which will unfold the relative roles of social forces and constraints. As a result, our appraisal of social reality will be objective, unequivocal, and ever more comprehensive. Proceeding therefrom, we should be able to answer the question "VW hat will it be?" in terms of probability and not speculation or conjecture.

Our current education, however, does not promote the inductive orientation of social anthropologists. Instead, they are prompted to deduce reality from one or another societal manifestation, or set of such manifestations, that appeals to them. The appraisal of social reality, accordingly, remains segmental at best, like the proverbial case of the seven blind men describing what an elephant looks like. Illustrative cases, in this context, are the deductive attempts of Bailey (1958) and Epstein (1962) to describe the emergence of entrepreneurship in rural India, on a caste basis or not.

The attempts of Bailey and Epstein have been replicated by social anthropologists in various parts of India. They have shown that entrepreneurship developed in some places, did not develop in other places, and in still other places was killed in the bud. The meticulous social anthropologists have also attempted an explanation of these variations. Little, however, has been done so far to ascertain why rural entrepreneurs, who behave as "nonconformists" on their emergence, do not find a way out of the social system. Instead of thus effecting social change by replacement, in a large majority of cases the erst- while nonconformists tend to conform, eventually, to the status quo ante and thrive as landholders and usurers. Do rural entrepreneurs, therefore, denote social accumulation or casual fluctuations in the social system instead of a distinctive social change? This is the crucial question in the present context, but it cannot be answered-at any rate, not unequivocally and comprehensively-on a deductive basis.

Deductions in reference to one or another social scene may be segmentally true only. Alternatively, they may merely record the wish, belief, or doctrine of the investigators, with the data selected to prove their case. An inductive base, on the other hand, places the question in an objective, unconstrained, and comprehensive frame of reference. The null hypothesis will be that entrepreneurship cannot emerge, and the available theories and empirical data will permit a series of alternative hypotheses as to the viability of entrepreneurship in rural India under different conditions. Testing of the hypotheses and the drawing of valid inferences therefrom will depict the substantive reality for the present and indicate, probabilistically, what it will be in the immediate future.

Since social anthropologists seldom undertake the task of appraising social reality in this manner, the emergence of entrepreneurship in rural India remains as illusory as many other societal manifestations, among them the withering away of the caste system that has been forecast time and again since the middle of the 19th century. Thus roaming in the field of

illusion, they find all the empirical manifestations falling into appropriate places in the Chinese puzzle. As Mandelbaum's (1970) systematic and logically articulated collection of papers portraying Society in India testifies, the apparently dominant characteristics ultimately buttress the static characterization of the Indian society as "unity in diversity," its operative principle "continuity and change: change and continuity."

V

The deductive orientation of social anthropologists rests not only on their inadequate or faulty education, but also on their one-sided ideology. Any search for causality, concomitance, or contingency in societal phenomena on a deductive basis cannot but be positivistic in approach. As I have shown, the attempt is to deduce positively what is happening, how it is happening, and why it is happening. The deductive attempt cannot take into account, in an unconstrained and unequivocal manner, the negative aspect of reality and the dialectical inter- actions of positive and negative aspects. Accordingly, the deductive-positivistic approach must have a built-in value-load for appraising social reality in a particular manner.

The value-load may or may not be explicitly stated. It may, indeed, be deliberately concealed to create a semblance of a value-free undertaking. Nonetheless, the ideologies of social anthropologists can sharply distort the appraisal of reality. This is clearly demonstrated with reference to another society which, until recently, was categorized as "primitive" -namely, Uganda-before, during, and after British rule.

Lowie (1950:453-58), in conformity with the practice of British anthropologists and the colonial government, labelled the peoples of Uganda as "tribals." We find from the earlier accounts of travellers like Speke, administrators like Lugard, and ethnographers like Roscoe, however, that before the advent of the British in what became the Uganda Protectorate the "Baganda" had developed a class society with external and internal markets. The "Banyankole" had developed a state on the basis of class domination, which Oberg (1950: 121-62) has brilliantly portrayed. Class divisions either had emerged or were incipient among other ethnic groups (Mukherjee 1956:46-105). Why, then, did anthropologists label the peoples of Uganda as "tribals" throughout British rule? Was it to en- dorse the "civilizing mission" of the colonial power?

According to Mair (1934:286), "the history of Buganda pre- sents a justification for the system of Indirect Rule-the pres- ervation of the native society as a basis for new development, and its transformation only to the extent which these developments necessitate." A similar conclusion was drawn by Wilson and Wilson (1945). At the same time, Malinowski (1945: 161), inquiring into "race relations in Africa," declared, "As a Pole born and bred, I may be allowed to say here that in my opinion the British colonial system is second to none in this capacity to learn from experience, its adaptability and tolerance, and above all, in its genuine interest in the welfare of the natives." No wonder, then, that the Governor of Uganda announced in 1949 that the "established policy aims at developing Uganda for the benefit, not of imported Europeans or Asians, but of its African population" (Hall 1949: iii). But, such was this policy, acclaimed by the administrators and anthropologists alike, that Huxley (1948:243) reported of the Acholis, then reckoned to be "peace-loving," "In the debating club, politics are barred. At the last meeting the topic 'Where does the rainbow come from' was discussed."

To be sure, some of the social anthropologists working in Uganda, India, and other places produced good ethnography. A few of them also contributed significantly to ethnological theory. While their ideology and education had significant bearing on these products-as suggested by their unanimous




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY categorization of the Africans as "tribals"-that is not our immediate concern. The point is that, although Malinowski professed to be concerned with the "dynamics of culture change" and the Wilsons with the "analysis of social change," they failed to answer the question which societal factors are of causal, concomitant, or contingent relevance, or irrelevant, to unfolding the substantive reality (Mukherjee 1956:267-74).

In Paris in 1948, I heard a North African student say, "Today we are 'tribals,' and the 'anthropologists' study us. But, tomorrow, when we shall attain independence, we shall become 'people,' and the 'sociologists' and 'political scientists' will come to study us!" This cynical statement indicates how illusory has been the appraisal of social reality by social anthropologists. It also points out, in reference to all brands of social scientists, how the people are deprived of a source of knowledge which could help them achieve freedom, peace, progress, and prosperity.

Anyhow, reality in Uganda asserted itself, shattering the illusions of reputable social anthropologists, through the Baganda uprisings of 1945 and 1948. In due course, Uganda became a sovereign state, and the Ugandans became "people." Yet, we are not free from illusion today, although the current reality could have been predicted, on a probability basis, in British times.

The mass exodus of the "Indians" from East Africa in recent times has generated a good deal of resentment in India and elsewhere. But how many social anthropologists have reacted to the phenomenon, and then unemotionally and objectively? Yet, just as in the case of Bangladesh (Mukherjee 1972a), the outcome could have been logically apprehended; similarly, the inter-"people" tension in Uganda manifest today between the Ganda and the Acholi could have been diagnosed from an objective analysis of Uganda society in British days (Mukherjee 1956:252-55).

It could also have been determined at the time that, ever since Uganda was unified in the 1930s for the production and processing of cotton, the "Europeans" (essentially, the British), the "Asians" (virtually, citizens of the subcontinent of India), and the "Africans" (the Ugandans) formed three distinct tiers of a class structure. The British were at the top, wielding economic and political power in a decisive manner; the Ugandans were at the bottom, with no political and economic power at all; and the "Indians" were in the middle, with appreciable economic power devolving from the British, but no political power. Understandably, the British did not yield any political power to the "Indians." The "Indians" did not seek power in alliance with the Ugandans, but exploited them as intermediaries (Mukherjee 1956:177-81). Therefore, their plight after independence could have been anticipated (pp. 255-63).

Such a diagnosis, made in the 1950s and still valid, is possible not because one is an astrologer, a yogi versed in transcendental meditation, or one who possesses the "third eye" of Siva. The probability lies in formulating one's ideology impartially and objectively and undertaking the consequent rigour of research with an inductive-inferential orientation.

VI

This assertion may be contested on the ground that the be- haviour of mankind is value-based and its consequences must be value-expressive. Therefore, this counter-argument will suggest, (a) social research cannot be value-free, (b) one's approach to research cannot be objective, and (c) what has been called "the consequent rigour of research" is meaningless. In operational terms, this means that all one can do is to appraise reality according to one's ideology and obviously, therefore. in a deductive-positivistic manner. In support of such a stand,

it may be said that those who speak of value-neutrality in social research actually conceal a particular value-load, and that if a form of analysis of a society proves valid it is because the particular kind of ideology implicit in it is superior to other kinds.

We must not ignore this viewpoint, because it contains more than a grain of truth. But we must also consider the fact that if we stop at such a generalization in formulating our role as social anthropologists, we shall not be serving science, but operating as doctrinaires and dogmatists. Ideology does not substantiate reality; it is the other way round. This is why even Marxism, which perhaps most precisely and consistently endeavours to interpret reality, has been undergoing elabora- tion, variation, and shift in emphasis around its central axis since the days of Marx and Engels. This effort and others show that we can never interpret reality fully and finally. Our task is to interpret reality ever more closely, and as comprehensively as possible in the given state of our knowledge. WA'e have to bear in mind, therefore, that virtually no ideology is bereft of truth, however partially it is accounted for.

Hence, the problem before us, with reference to illusion and reality, is not that social anthropology, like any other social science discipline, contains value-loads. Also, the problem is not resolved by a mere statement of our value-loads. This way of bypassing our responsibility as scientists is as futile as going to a Father Confessor, and it may be harmful by giving us opportunity to become dogmatists and doctrinaires. On both these counts, the problem we face may be formulated as follows: How can we impartially and objectively treat the differential value-loads for an ever more precise, comprehensive, and unequivocal appraisal of social reality?

To examine further the anthropologists' value-base in this context, we should select a topic which, ultimately, is indispensable to all social science disciplines and in which value is ingrained. One such topic is "social development." Dogmas and doctrines are clearly manifest in its current conceptualization.

DOGMAS AND DOCTRINES

I

One cannot appraise social reality without taking note of the concept of social development. Whether it arises from below or is imposed from above, the concept of development is inseparable from the course of existence of a people and a society. No matter how development is conceived by the people en masse, or segmentally, or by the elites, value is ingrained in the concept. And value as a variable, in this context, can give rise to various dogmas and doctrines.

To illustrate these dogmas and doctrines with reference to the concept of social development, we should first distinguish between "change" and "development." While development cannot take place without change, change is a value-free and development a value-loaded concept.

In the simplest case, change between two points of time (say, t, and t2) would be recorded in one of three possible ways:

1. An entity a present at t1 has disappeared at t2. For example, the ancient Indian marital customs of niyoga and nivesa have disappeared from the contemporary social scene (P. Mukherjee 1963: 1-11).

2. An entity a was not present at t1 but has emerged at t2- For example, a new system of production relations has emerged in the world with the establishment of the U.S.S.R.

Vol. 17 N No. I March 1976



3. An entity a is present at both t, and t2, but some or all of its structural and/or functional properties are more or less present at t2. It is this possibility which we usually consider as a topic for research. Thus we examine the probability of the disappearance of the caste system, the disintegration of the joint family, stronger national integration, the growing viability of entrepreneurship in rural areas, and so on.

None of these three possibilities of change contains any value- load. The third denotes a replaceable situation, in which an entity is hypothesized to be disappearing or emerging between two time-points. The first two denote a replaced situation, in which an entity has disappeared or emerged between the two time-points. The three possibilities, therefore, record either the fact or the probability of replacement of an entity or a set of entities. In this operational perspective, the entities themselves or their replacement and replaceability have no commitment to any value-base.

The selection of an entity, or a set of entities, for examination, however, is value-loaded, because it is based on the desirability or undesirability of the persistence, disappearance, or emergence of the entity or set of entities. Otherwise there would be no point in choosing certain entities for examination, unless the choice were frivolous or encyclopaedic. We should not consider the selection of entities for examination to be frivolous, and encyclopaedic treatment is not feasible in practice. Hence, it is from the perspective of deliberate choice of entities for examination that the concept of social development is brought to bear upon societal characteristics.

Some characteristics are regarded as desirable, and so they become the "developmental" characteristics. Other characteristics are regarded as undesirable, and so they become "retrogressive" characteristics. The remaining societal characteristics are considered to be of no relevance to a particular value-load. These neutral characteristics may, however, be regarded as desirable or undesirable for another value-load. It follows that the value-load of the concept of social development will vary according to different viewpoints. This is obvious from the writings of reputable thinkers, philosophers, social scientists, etc., on the prime mover of social development. The views may be similar but distinctive, different but not an- tagonistic, or polar-opposite. The prime mover of social development may be the material basis of society, as explained and elaborated by Marx and Engels, Lenin and Stalin, Mao Tse-tung, Gramsci, Lukacs, Marcuse, et al. It may be the fact of social existence, according to the arguments of Morgan, Durkheim, Spencer, Simmel, et al. It may be social consciousness, as stressed by Pareto, T6nnies, Mannheim, Malinowski, Rousseau, et al. It may be the spiritual basis of society, as asserted by Weber, Ginsberg, Hobhouse, Mumford, et al. Or it may be something else.

Attempts are therefore made to make the concept of social development operationally value-free by assuming a general consensus to standardize its value-load and, thus, eliminating the possibility of variation in this respect. Contemporarily, these attempts fall into three categories: synoptic, enforced, and operational. When we examine them carefully, however, we find that either they lead to various dogmas and doctrines or the dogmas and doctrines are built-in.

II

The synoptic approach is based on some overall humane consideration, which may be qualitatively evaluative and/or quantitatively analytical in character. Of the first, the best examples are perhaps international declarations on human rights, faith in humanism, etc. Consensus on this level of wishes and beliefs can lead only to generalized formulations like "all men are equal," "freedom is everyone's birthright,"

"none should starve," and so on. Such statements leave open the question "What will it be" if and when all men become "equal," "free," "adequately fed," and so on? Therefore, beyond an assumed minimal level of affluence, security, etc., the operational relevance of this kind of synoptic approach tends to vanish. This is evident from the manner in which organizations like the UN, UNESCO, and others formulate their specific action and research programmes after their general procla- mations. Hence, from this standpoint, there can be no perspective of continuing social development.

Within the circumscribed perspective, moreover, the concept of social development may vary according to the procedure adopted to make all men equal, free, duly fed, and so on. This refers to the conditions for development, which may reflect such polarized orientations as that the proletarians of the world must unite or that the spirit of capitalism springs eternal in the human breast. Differential value-loads are, thus, implicit in even the minimally conceived characteristics of social development.

There is a tendency among social scientists to underestimate the implications of variations in the conditions for development. They will agree that these variations refer to the appreciation of what development is, but they will also point out that some sort of agreement can be reached on a set of developmental attributes and indicators such as rapid urbanization and industrialization, the rise of entrepreneurship in rural areas, growth of per capita G.N.P., etc. However, the relevance of this issue is perennial. This is clear from the de jure and de facto roles of the League of Nations and the UN in resolving world conflicts and from the cases of Vietnam and Bangladesh. Myrdal's discussion of the contemporary problems of development and social change in southern Asia and his Challenge of World Poverty point to the same issue (Myrdal 1968, vol. 3: 1905; 1971). Thus, even within a circumscribed perspective, the concept of social development cannot be made operationally value-free for the world at large by employing humane principles.

The second kind of synoptic approach-raising the content of social development to a quantitatively analytical level-is more precise and objective, but suffers from the same fallacies as the first. Drewnowski (1967:131-34) has suggested for this purpose such subject categories as nutrition, shelter, health, education, leisure and recreation, security, and opulence level. Seers (1972:24) has noted: "As undernourishment, unemploy- ment and inequality dwindle,. . . educational and political aims become increasingly important objectives of development." These and additional subject categories suggested by Myrdal and others are not restricted to any minimal level. On the other hand, they are amenable to precise measurement. The quantitatively analytical attempt, therefore, would help us to appraise social development on the basis of unequivocal information (e.g., McGranahan 1969:1-22).

All the same, the phenomenon is to be conceived in a particular manner. No form of quantification and analysis will make the concept of social development value-free. This is true not only in regard to the definition of and conditions for social development, but also with reference to the attributes and indicators of a particular definition and set of conditions.

Developmental attributes and indicators will be culture- specific, both in intra-society and inter-society contexts. Even nutritional variation, which appears to be an unambiguous quantitative measure, is closely associated with food habits, in which values are ingrained for different groups of people in the same society and between societies. In India, the Kashmiri Brahmins are meat-eaters. The saraswat Brahmins of Maha- rashtra and the maithil Brahmins of Bihar are fish-eaters. The Bengali Brahmins are fish-eaters; the saktas are also meat-eaters. The South Indian Brahmins are scrupulous vegetarians. Similar variations are noticed among the ethnic groups in Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. The Japanese are said to be more fish-eaters




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY than the Chinese, the English more beef-eaters than other Europeans. The situation is no less different regarding the appreciation of the facts of opulence, security, recreation, and leisure. Even education, health, shelter, and other apparently less variable categories are known to be culture-specific. There- fore, any assumption contrary to the fact that the attributes and indicators of development are differentially value-loaded would be either fallacious or too general to be of operational and analytical use.

More cautious and rigorous attempts are, therefore, made to evolve models for social system accounting (e.g., Gross 1966: 154-271). They are useful insofar as they provide us with broad frames of reference for appraising the content of social development in different societies, but they are tentative, as their authors would not (and, in some cases, do not) deny. It is therefore necessary to test the universality of these models by applying them to various societies. Otherwise, it cannot be ascertained whether or not the facts of inter-society and intra- society variation crosscut the structure of the models. If they do, this kind of approach also will be incapable of making the concept of social development value-free.

In any case, the differential value-load of developmental indicators is clearly stated by some, whether or not these indicators are employed for specific purposes like "welfare measurement" (e.g., Drewnowski 1972:85-86). Also, the possibility of differential value-load of the attributes in reference to which indicators are to be constructed has been mentioned; Seers (1972:28) noted this with respect to the attribute of un- employment in "non-industrial societies."

As regards the conditions for social development and their repercussions on the formulation of developmental indicators, the situation is less satisfactory. For instance, according to Seers (p. 22), development "is inevitably a normative concept, almost a synonym for improvement," and to "pretend otherwise is just to hide one's value judgement." But this does not mean that "we are each left to adopt our own personal set of values," because "surely the values we need are staring us in the face, as soon as we ask ourselves: what are the necessary conditions for a universally acceptable aim, the realization of the potential of human personality?" This rather too general solution, however, refers to the philosophy of development, which may vary according to the concrete formulation of the stated aim and/or the procedure for realizing it. This is evident from the controversy currently raging over "young" and "old" Marx and the variations noticed within the gamut of "neo-Marxists" or among idealists of different brands, who may be social scientists (like Mumford) or swamis or saints of modern vintage.

Thus, the synoptic approach fails to standardize the concept of social development and thereby to make it operationally value-free. Analytical attempts of this kind can serve to appraise social development, provided it is conceived in a particular manner.

III

This particular manner of conceiving social development cannot, however, be enforced-which seems to be the aim of a number of social scientists. Rostow's (1962) "threshold of social development," in his "non-communist manifesto," proposed the course of change in Western Europe and the northern hemisphere of the New World as the ideal of social development. The "West" as the goal of social development is enforced more directly by others (e.g., Black 1966:17; Blankesten 1965: 225-42; Moore 1967: 3; Shils 1962: 1O). Adogma in con- ceptualizing social development is thus explicit.

Significantly, the dogma subscribes to the doctrine of "tradition to modernity," which appears to (but does not actually)

portray objectively the current state of affairs in world societies. The uncritical and unscientific bias of the doctrine is now noted by many social scientists (e.g., Elias 1964:53; Weiner 1966:v; Rudolph and Rudolph 1967: 3), and Nettl and Robertson (1968:43) have stated that "many discussions of modernity have not been genuinely conceptual or theoretical, but mere word-juggling." Instead of an outright rejection of the doctrine, however, the Rudolphs suggest a corrective. They consider (p. 6) that the "cumulative effect of the misdiagnosis of traditional societies and the misunderstanding of modern societies has been to produce an analytical gap between tradition and modernity." But the gap is not merely analytical. It is essentially conceptual, as is clearly indicated by Shils's (1962: 10) assertion:

"Modern" means being Western without the onus of dependence on the West. The model of modernity is a picture of the West de- tached in some way from its geographical origins and locus; it permits the affirmation of Soviet Russian and Chinese ideals which ostensibly have what is worth-while in the West, while being themselves anti-Western.... Already modern states-the states of Western Europe and of North America (and the English-speaking dominions of the British Commonwealth)-need not aspire to modernity. They are modern. It has become part of their nature to be modern and indeed what they are is definitive of modernity.

Obviously, Shils's explanation thwarts any attempt to reveal the dynamics of a society, for dynamism cannot be restricted to a jump from one closed box to another. Mshvenieradze's (1964: 34-35) apt comment on Rostow's concept of "traditional society" is applicable to all variations on the theme of "tradition to modernity": they have "amalgamated various social formations under the title of 'traditional society' and closed the way for historical approach to problems of social development." Empirically, therefore, the doctrine leads to subjective and superficial evaluation of world societies. This is no less evident for those who may not subscribe to the pro-Western goal of social development. A case in point is Shah and Rao's (1965) attempt to analyze tradition and modernity in India. Singh's (1973) otherwise noteworthy attempt to describe social change in India in historical perspective suffers from the same constraint.

Moreover, the definition of tradition in the social sciences promotes the emergence of other dogmas. Strangely, the Dic- tionary of Anthropology (V\ inick 1957) does not define tradition, although anthropologists are gravely concerned with the subject. Dictionaries and encyclopaedias of sociology and the social sciences do define tradition, but usually impart a value- judgement to it (e.g., Ellwood 1958:295; Radin 1948:63; Sampson 1965:723). And since this value-judgement is that it is an obstacle in the path toward being "modern," it pro- vokes a counter value-judgement from the nativistic sources: tradition is a proud heritage of the people, which negates the need to be modern (e.g., Motwani 1958). The attempt of Bendix, in this context, to bypass dogma or doctrine is futile. He argues (1964: 5-6):

There is nothing inherently wrong about using the history of Western societies as the basis of what we propose to mean by development-as long as the purely nominal character of this definition is understood. The history of industrial societies must certainly be one basis for our definition in this field. Trouble arises only when it is assumed that these are "real" definitions, that development can mean only what it has come to mean in some Western societies.

Such an attempt at value-neutrality emphasizes the fact that social development is a value-loaded concept and that the

Vol. 17 N No. I March 1976 77



value-load cannot be made uniform by the presumption of a common desideratum.

In effect, a number of social philosophies may concur on industrialization as an essential condition for development, but may be sharply divided amongst themselves on other developmental attributes. Also, they may strongly differ on the manner in which industrialization is to be brought about and its fruits utilized. Evidently, the U.S.A. and U.S.S.R. would be sharply divided on this issue, and so also may be China, Yugoslavia, etc., amongst themselves as well as from the first two Great Powers.

Moreover, the philosophies which lead to such distinctions may agree on a constellation of developmental attributes and indicators, but another social philosophy may totally upset the accepted constellation. And this philosophy should not be ig- nored, either for the world at large or for one or more specific societies. For example, growth of gross national product, rise in per capita income, increasing levels of investment in material goods and services, industrialization and urbanization, etc., will be of no relevance to the Gandhian view of social development (Kumarappa 1948, 1951, 1952).

Thus, at the level of scientific objectivity, the concept of social development cannot be standardized by enforcing a particular manner of development as the world view.

IV

For one society or set of analogous societies, however, a particular manner of social development may appear to be observable and thus valid for operational purposes. On this count, therefore, the value-load of development would be seemingly uniform and thus the concept of social development would be operationally value-free. For example, with reference to the United States of America, Bauer (1966: 1) is concerned with the "topic of social indicators," inasmuch as it would enable him "to assess where we stand and are going with respect to our values and goals, and to evaluate specific programs and determine their impact." Similarly, Myrdal (1971:42-43) has stated:

The reason for adopting the modernization ideals as value premises for our study of underdeveloped countries is not merely that very commonly they are pronounced to be the goal determining policy by the governments of practically all those countries and, indeed, generally by the articulate members of their people. In many underdeveloped countries they have acquired the role almost of a state religion.

However, in these countries and, for that matter, in all countries, other sets of value-loads may play a significant role.

In many "developed" societies, the concept of social development of the ruling power does not match those of other articulate and powerful societal segments, and this is found to have a significant effect on the course of development of these societies. The "values and goals" and the "specific programs" with which Bauer is concerned would perhaps not be the same for the Black movement or the New Left as they are for the U.S. government. Obviously, the recent students' unrest and youth revolt in the German Federal Republic has had a pro- found effect on the course of development of German society.

In the "developing" societies, such variations are wide and strongly marked, and some of them have had a drastic effect on the professed ideals of these societies. In the last analysis, the answer to the question "What will it be?" is being decided on this very issue in Vietnam and Bangladesh. One act of the drama on the same issue has already been played in Chile, Korea, Indonesia, Ghana, and Nigeria. Although in less drastic a manner than for these societies, differences in the concept of social development also affect other "developing"

societies. If there is any country in which "modernization ideals as value premises . .. have acquired the role almost of a state religion," it is India. But here also, these value premises are not subscribed to by certain articulate and influential groups of people, and this has indelible effects on the society.

The so-called Naxalite movement, which has markedly different value premises from the Indian government, was particularly effective in the western region of the State of West Bengal during 1970-72. Significantly, it is in this region that the "modernizing ideals" of the State were seen to have attained an appreciable measure of success through sustained programmes for community development, construction of large- scale irrigation systems (Mayurakshi and the D.V.C.) in the arid region, and the establishment of a steel plant and an industrial complex at Durgapur. The Sarvodaya movement, which has another set of "modernizing ideals" in reference to the Gandhian way of life, is reported to be gaining ground in the State of Bihar and elsewhere in India.

Planning for India's development has also been influenced in a manner diametrically opposite to Myrdal's ideals. This is clear with reference to the Second Five-Year Plan. Mahala- nobis, the architect of the Plan, had specified that the development of heavy industries and rapid industrialization would be the keynote of India's social development. In that context, encouragement of handicraft industries and peasant cultivation, to the extent necessary, were to be a matter of policy and not of any creed (Mahalanobis 1955:42-44). Contrariwise, a panel of economists sponsored by the Indian Planning Commission declared it "basic" that the "salient characteristics" of planning be a "society composed chiefly of small decentralized units of economic activity in which the increase in scale re- quired in any activity is brought about chiefly through mutual co-operation, horizontal and vertical, and in which centraliza- tion and very large-scale operation are resorted to only to the extent necessary to derive appropriate advantage from modern technology" (Planning Commission 1955:13).

Obviously, such differences in the value-load of the concept of social development could not but cause confusion in the planning and implementation of developmental programmes. Along with the establishment of steel plants, etc., in the public sector of the economy, the oligarchy of textile manufacture thrived, as did the monopolists of automobile manufacture. Concurrently, the veneration of government-subsidized khadi production told its own tale, as did the idyllic execution of the community development programmes in the villages. Eventu- ally, therefore, India's social development in the 1950s and early 1960s invited critical comments from natives and foreign- ers. Myrdal (1968, vol. 1:278), for instance, made the caustic remark: "The postponement of the promised social and economic revolution, which was to follow India's political revolution, is thus in danger of becoming permanent."

To be sure, India is not unique in this, but it does serve to illustrate the lesson that, not only for the world as a whole or a number of similar societies, but also for any one such society, a uniform value-load of the concept of social development cannot be assumed on apparently observable and seemingly valid grounds. In sum, then, all attempts to standardize the value- load of social development, synoptic, enforced, or operational, are doomed to failure because of the nature of the concept. Instead, these attempts promote various dogmas and doctrines -including Myrdal's idea that "modernizing ideals" may acquire "the role almost of a state religion."

V

We have, therefore, three alternatives before us. The simplest would be to abandon the concept of social development and deal exclusively with the value-free concept of social change.




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY Boas adopted this alternative in reference to ethnology, de- claring (1940:285): "The method we try to develop is based on a study of the dynamic changes in society that may be observed at the present time. We refrain from the attempt to solve the fundamental problem of the general development of civilization until we have been able to unravel the processes that are going on under our eyes."

At the risk of repetition, it will be useful to point out the fallacy in Boas's argument. Can one study the "dynamic changes in society" without a value-base? As I shall argue later, with reference to the task of social anthropologists, the value-base need not be (and, in fact, must not be) equated with a particular value-load. But can one ever appraise social reality without accounting for value-loads? In that case, how would one select the societal entities to be examined for that purpose? Moreover, even if this were possible in an encyclopaedic undertaking, by following Boas we would shirk the responsibility of defining the anthropologists' value-base. This issue may not have had much urgency for Boas in the 1930s, but today it is so important that CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY has devoted a substantial number of pages to a "Social Responsi- bilities Symposium" (Berreman, Gjessing, and Gough 1968: 391-435). I have already mentioned the 1973 Congress session on ideology and the education of anthropologists. Therefore, if we wish to "unravel the processes that are going on under our eyes," we should reject the simplest alternative of examining only social change, ignoring social development.

The simpler of the remaining two alternatives is to insist on a particular manner of social development, thus forcibly free- ing the concept of its differential value-loads. But we shall, then, continue to roam in the field of illusory images instead of unravelling social reality, as I have tried to show above. Hence, as objective scientists, we ought to reject this alternative and adopt the third. This alternative would acknowledge that the following problems must be solved in order to employ social development as an empirical concept: (1) It is differentially value-loaded. (2) The value-load will vary with regard to both the conditions for development and the formulation of the developmental and retrogressive attributes and indicators. (3) This kind of variability is not only inter-societal, in the world perspective, but also intra-societal, in a nation-state perspective.

These problems can be solved by the following four operations: (1) Systematize (not, at present, standardize) the differential value-loads. (2) Examine the dynamics of a social segment, a society, or a cluster of societies against the background of the systematized value-loads. (3) Appraise the direction and the rate of movement of the social segment, society, or cluster of societies in reference to the differential value-loads. (4) Diagnose, on the basis of probability, what it will be in the immediate future for the societal entity under examination.

These operations can be performed if we adopt an inductive- inferential orientation toward appraising social reality and evolve an appropriate methodology. This is not the place to go into technical details in this respect. It may be noted, however, that the possibility of developing such a methodology has been demonstrated (Mukherjee 1974). It has also been shown that the application of the concept of social development in this manner can unravel social reality unequivocally and comprehensively (Mukherjee 1975). Fundamentally, however, this approach calls for an ideology of self-imposed discipline and the consequent rigorous education in order not to be biassed sub- jectively, in one way or another, in either comprehension or action. Shortcuts are therefore sought, and seemingly cogent arguments are adduced in their favour.

One such way out is based on the argument that since a man cannot be value-neutral, the social scientist ought to state and logically argue in favour of his specific values in the context of any attempt to elicit reality. It follows that the "value- acceptor" cannot but pursue a particular manner of social

development; whether his approach is right or wrong will eventually be demonstrated by history. This approach is certainly more efficient than the so-called value-neutral approach, which even the economists are giving up these days. But its deductive-positivistic base can promote the emergence of dogmas and doctrines, and these either obscure the field of reality or distort its form and content. Hence, if we adopt this approach, we cannot but provide the means for dogmas and doctrines to undermine, or nullify, the objective pursuit of knowledge for the benefit of the people en masse.

Furthermore, the value-acceptor approach not only recom- mends the pursuit of a particular manner of social development; logically, it must also argue that one can achieve such a course of development only if he or she is invested with the necessary powers to bring it to a successful conclusion. It would follow that the execution of this approach must also weed out other effective attempts at the application of other value-loads of social development. Apart from the ethics of such an argument and the consequent procedure, the point is that the anthropologist-like all other social scientists-will then forfeit his role of scientist and operate as a politician.

Both roles are essential for the benefit of the people, and one can adopt them sequentially or even simultaneously-as did Marx, Lenin, and several others-with the objective of not merely appraising social reality, but also changing it. One must, however, be faithful to each and not mix them for personal benefit or charismatic glory. I shall take up this point when I discuss the task of anthropologists. The mixture of the two roles is not unprecedented in human history, and probably is more frequent these days than ever before. Furthermore, it is now helping to form groups of dogmatists and doctrinaires. There is all the more reason, therefore, to define the anthropologists' value-base in contradistinction to dogmas and doctrines and the consequent illusory portrayal of reality, for only in this light can the task of anthropologists be outlined.

THE TASK OF ANTHROPOLOGISTS

I

The task of anthropologists is easy if their role is subservient to that of politicians and administrators in a nation-state or dictated by one or another world view. In this event, they function to supply facts and "low" or "middle"-range generalizations to support one or another political, administrative, or academic thesis. At the most, they may identify lacunae in these theses or suggest refinements. Thus playing second fiddle to the world of knowledge and action, they need not undertake the responsibility for appraising reality on their own initiative.

This perhaps has been the major role of social anthropologists, as it has been for the general run of social scientists, particularly sociologists, in India from independence until very recent times (Mukherjee 1965). This is no accident; nor is it peculiar to India.

Since the Second World War, rapid communication among social scientists has developed all over the world. Also, on the one hand, the newly emerging nation-states in the Third World are bursting with energy and even showing impatience to change the "face" of their societies. On the other, economic, political, and ideological power has been concentrated in the United States of America or the Soviet Union, and, given its medium, power flows from the higher to the lower potential. Logically it has followed, therefore, that the world has been

Vol. 17 * No. I * March 1976



viewed in terms of one of the two images developed in these two epicentres of human progress and prosperity. The voices of the few who have pleaded for a critical appraisal of reality in the society in question have been lost in the wilderness (e.g., Mukerji 1961).

In the course of time, however, the appreciation of reality has become manifold, with new centres of ideology and action emerging in various parts of the world. Also, there is increasing realization that the substantive reality, or the reality par excellence, has yet to be appraised other than segmentally. From both the world and the nation-state perspectives, this is now a cardinal necessity if we are to attain peace, prosperity, and progress, the three value considerations on which the character of human society is grounded.

On the world scale, this is exemplified in many ways: (1) The controversy over the basic tenets of Marxism and their contemporary relevance-for example, the dialogue between Emmanuel and Bettelheim on unequal exchange among world societies in the context of Marx's theory of surplus value (Emmanuel 1972) and Marcuse's (1969) characterization of the role of the nonconformist young intelligentsia vis-a-vis the industrial working class in the West. (2) The current interest shown in the U.S.A. and many other countries in understanding Marxism in its various interpretations, instead of merely vilifying it in terms of the distorted renderings produced by interested parties. (3) The commendable attempts of some Soviet social scientists to examine the role of tradition in the developing processes in Third World countries (e.g., Polonskaya 1973).

In India also we are becoming increasingly aware of the pernicious consequences for our discipline of the mechanical application of many concepts and theories developed in the specific contexts of Western Europe or North America but said to have universal validity. We are perhaps less aware of the distortion of some Grand Theories so as to emphasize certain aspects of reality and, thus, to support or denounce it. For instance, a large number of Marxists and anti-Marxists glibly associate the "economic determinism" of reality with the views of Marx and Engels, but Engels (1951:457) stated, on behalf of both, "It is not that the economic position is the cause and alone active, while everything else only has a passive effect." In both areas, however, the field is fertile for the emergence or persistence of various kinds of dogmas and doctrines.

The nativistic impulse, as an antidote to Western influence. has strengthened our devotion to concepts like sanskritization and categories like the bhadralog class. It is necessary to remind ourselves that the process indicated by sanskritization is virtually as old as the caste system itself (Mukherjee 1973b). It is also necessary to point out that the precision of the bhadralog class is, at best, like that of the "labouring class" of earlier economists and, at worst, like that of the "female class" of the 19th-century social reformers in India.

On the other side, our international integration has led some dogmatists and doctrinaires to uphold their viewpoint by quot- ing the pregnant words of Marx (1942:199): "The philosophers have only interpreted the world differently; the point is to change it." This second kind of dogma and doctrine has immediate relevance to the anthropologists' value-base, for it is directly concerned with one or another manner of unfolding social reality and implementing a particular course of social development on that basis. In arguments of this kind, Marx's statement is often lifted out of its logical context, as given by the ordering of his eleven Theses on Feuerbach, of which this oft- quoted statement is the last. While almost all social scientists are now mindful of changing the world, Marx exhorted philosophers to do so in the last century because "all social life is essentially practical" (Marx 1942:199) . Engels, who elaborated on the Theses in Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy (1970: 366), did not lose sight of the

fact that "the course of history is governed by inner general laws," but he also noted it to be important "for historical investigation, particularly of single epochs and events," that "men make their own history, whatever its outcome may be, in that each person follows his own consciously desired end, and it is precisely the resultant of these many wills operating in different directions and of their manifold effects upon the outer world that constitutes history."

It follows that even the most extreme of materialists cannot rest content with the slogan of changing society merely on the basis of a general characterization of social development. Anthropologists (like all social scientists) are primarily concerned in their empirical research with "single epochs and events" within a given circuit of place-time-object dimensions. Hence, they have to appraise the "resultant" of "many wills operating in different directions and ... their manifold effects upon the outer world."

Accordingly, both the value-neutrality of the idealist and the value-statement of the materialist may lead to dogmas and doctrines. The anthropologist as a scientist-whatever his value preference in other roles in society-will have to be a "value-accommodator" in order to appraise social reality objectively, precisely, and comprehensively. He cannot be an acceptor of any and all value-loads.

II

The accommodation of all possible values means that our task is not to deduce the reality by emphasizing one or another of its aspects according to our value preference, hidden or explicit. Instead, it is to appraise the relative relevance and necessity, and the nature and degree of efficiency, of all the aspects in order to elucidate what the reality is. The different aspects of reality are unilaterally stressed in diverse manners according to ideological considerations. Hence the proposed process will automatically test and verify which is the "right" kind of ideology for unfolding social reality. In this way, we shall gain in knowledge and proceed toward bridging the gap between theory and research. We need not dogmatically pin our faith on one kind of ideology as the "right" one and merely strain our vocal chords asserting its rightness as doctrinaires.

Bridging the gap between theory and research has been regarded as impossible by some notable scientists (e.g., Blalock 1961:5). But, as I have pointed out, value-loaded as they are, virtually none of the images of reality is entirely untrue. These images may be relevant, necessary, and even efficient to describe what and how and explain why for the facet of reality each deals with. At the same time, however, none of them may be sufficient for appraising the dynamics of the society in question and thus for diagnosing what it will be in the immediate future. For this purpose, the systematization and relative evaluation of the images in the light of an unconstrained and ever improving appreciation of the empirical manifestation of reality is imperative.

The gap between theory and research may thus be bridged by a value-free, but value-accommodating, inductive-inferential approach to revealing social reality. In his exhaustive empirical explorations of each image, the social scientist will have to answer concurrently: "what is it?" and "what is it not?", "how is it?" and "how is it not?", "why is it?" and "why is it not?" The constant interplay of the positive and negative aspects of the available knowledge and a dialectical interaction among them will produce a precise, unequivocal, and ever more comprehensive appreciation of the social reality.

Evidently, the accommodation of all possible values for empirical research is not a simple task. Conceptually, we are to envisage a social space which comprises all the value-loads that may be distinguished in terms of their specific properties.

80 CURR E N T AN TH ROP O LO G Y



Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY The social space will be identified by a circuit of place-time- object dimensions of variation in epochs and events. Method- ologically, the task will not permit us to consider value as a fixed cluster of attributes. Value becomes a variable in all stages of research, from the formulation of research topics and the design of projects to the analysis of data and the deductions and inferences to be drawn from the data-sets. Accordingly, in terms of the place-time-object dimensions of variation, the value-loads must be systematized and their properties formulated precisely under appropriate classificatory and analytical categories. Both are feasible tasks, as I have demonstrated in respect of the systematization of the value-loads of sharply contending political parties in India today (Mukherjee 1975) and the enumeration of the analytical properties of "tradition" in contemporary India (Mukherjee 1965:185-213; 1968). Al- though the second is a favorite but usually an amorphous topic with social anthropologists, Singh's (1973) attempt is worthy of note. There are, however, many pitfalls in the path of the value-accommodator. Because of the prevailing social situation and his subjectivity as a social being, he may turn into a value- acceptor in effect. Alternatively, he may end in futility by overgeneralizing the value-loads he accommodates.

In an attempt to rise above the internecine struggle between value-neutrals and value-acceptors, the highest echelons of social scientists and policy makers in the world at large are proposing issues of universal appeal. Accordingly, the task of anthropologists in India and elsewhere tends to be modelled to respond to this appeal. The issues put forward by international organizations like the Economic Commission for Asia and the Far East and genuinely concerned social scientists like Myrdal have impressive labels like the eradication of poverty and inequality, uplifting the weaker sections of society, and national integration (e.g., Myrdal 1971, ECAFE 1973, Eisen- stadt and Rokkan 1973). These issues seem to accommodate all possible value-loads, but, in practice, they lead to either an oversimplification of differential value-loads or a unilateral stress on one of them.

III

Let us begin with poverty. Firstly, it begs a definition, and, therefore, any research on it will be equivocal or overgeneralized. It can be objectively defined only in reference to the level of living of the people. But the minimum components of the level of living, as enumerated by the United Nations, include not only health, education, employment, etc., but also "human freedom." Does it not follow that the definition of poverty will vary according to the subjective judgement of researchers on qualitative attributes like human freedom? Also, is it not necessary to obtain, at the outset, a general consensus on the threshold of poverty in reference to the quantitative and quanti- fiable attributes of health, education, etc.? These are known to vary within and between societies and societal segments. In this light, is the statistically valid and meticulous attempt of Dandekar and Rath (1971) to portray poverty in India unequivocal and comprehensive?

Secondly, in the current state of our knowledge on any society, poverty is not only a definitional issue. It is also value- loaded in diverse ways for materialists, existentialists, and idealists. Therefore, unless the anthropologists strictly adopt the role of value-accommodator (which they do not), any research on this issue will lead to confusion rather than clarification vis-a-vis social reality. For example, regarding certain materialists who are at present very vocal on this issue, Lenin's (1946:227) comment is instructive: "Marx there [in The Pov- erty of Philosophy] says of the Communists of the old school that all they saw in poverty was just poverty and that they failed to observe its revolutionary, destructive side, which would over-

throw the old society." The question follows: Are not the slogan of Garibi Hatao and the idea of "mass poverty" studies worse confounded in conceptualization, comprehension, and execution? And yet, the slogan has been adopted as a theme of research in several social science research institutions, and the Economic Commission for Asia and the Far East (now ESCAP) is busy organizing "mass poverty" studies in "developing" societies. We may note, contextually, that the U.S. government was interested a few years ago in the study of poverty in the United States of America. Evidently, poverty becomes different kettles of fish in different societies.

Inequality as an indicator to reveal social reality is even worse confounded. It is a phenomenon inherent in every society in one aspect or another (e.g., sex, age, status, class, etc.). If, therefore, the label is to refer to a particular societal aspect from the perspective of social transformation, should we not first enumerate the different sets of value-loads involved? Should we not next allot a priority rating to these value-loads in the light of our a priori knowledge in theory and empirical findings? Should we not then ascertain whether the operating sets of value-loads would be better represented by one or more precise characteristics than by the omnibus label of "inequality"?

Thus, the issues of poverty and inequality demand precise definition, identification, and comprehension before any effective research on them can be undertaken. These problems are seemingly resolved for social anthropologists in India, however, by another universal appeal-to uplift the "weaker sections" of society. The "weaker sections" of Indian society are readily reckoned to be the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes. The government is only too ready to provide financial and other support for researches on them. But, are these categories useful in the context of unfolding social reality? Also, are they identical with the "weaker sections" of the society?

The definitions of tribe and caste by Marx (1964) and Engels (1948) are seldom considered by social anthropologists, probably because they are regarded to be biassed or outdated. Since "tribal study" is a monopoly of anthropologists, however, it is diligently conducted by university departments of anthropology, the Anthropological Survey of India, and other such research institutions. They usually conduct their studies either without specifying the precise meaning of the term "tribe" or giving it an esoteric characterization peculiarly their own. Mostly, they merely adopt the government's juridical categorization of the Scheduled Tribes. In reference to internal differentiations, class formation, and polarization within a community of people, however, how many "tribes" are there in contemporary India and other countries?

This is not a surreptitious attempt to resurrect Marx for the benefit of anthropologists. The query follows the precept of the modern gurus in social anthropology. For instance, Bailey (1960:265) defines tribe as that set of people who "have direct command over resources, and their access to the products of the economy are not derived mediately through a dependent status on others." We may recall in this context how, in regard to British Uganda, repatable anthropologists roamed in the field of illusion because of their failure to define "tribal" and other social formations precisely, and we should ask ourselves whether we have learnt from the past. Is it valid to categorize as "tribals" the Lapps of Scandinavia, who even resent the appellation "Lapp" in place of their term "Saame" (Gjessing 1954: 1)? The African "tribes," of course, have become "people" since their independence. Should the juridical category of Scheduled Tribes be our guide in imposing the invidious distinction of "tribals" and others in Indian society? Instead of thus grinding a political axe, should we not examine which social formation each ethnic group in India has attained? Should we not ascertain what each aspires to? And, should

Vol. 17 * No. ! * March 1976 81



we not thus diagnose, probabilistically, what may happen to the concept of "unity and diversity" in India in the immediate future?

Like Scheduled Tribes, Scheduled Castes has been a political category from the time it was constituted by the British. Its character and composition have, no doubt, changed since then, but that also has been dictated by political considerations. What, then, are its objective validity and efficiency for denoting the "weaker sections" of the Indian society? It is true, of course, that a large number of the constituents of the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes suffer from social, economic, and ideological discrimination. But it is equally true that an appreciable number of those affiliated to these categories are doing well in the economic and political sphere by making use of their group's social and ideological deprivation. On the other hand, caste-Hindu unemployeds have been found to become Scheduled Castes by affidavit in order to avail themselves of the job preference reserved for the latter.

Considering the Scheduled Castes and Tribes identical with the "weaker sections" follows from a deductive-positivistic approach to appraising social reality, which focuses from the beginning on certain social groups in terms of the image prevalent in the dominant sector of the society. The inductive- inferential approach, in contrast, would identify the "weaker sections" of the society from the total social space in terms of a constellation of attributes taken to denote the quality of being "weaker." In the process, the categories of Scheduled Castes and Tribes might become only partially relevant, or even irrelevant. At the same time, the inductive process of identification of the "weaker sections" of the society from the facts of "weakness" in the social system might facilitate the understanding of why trends toward alienation are perennial in independent India. Alienation arises from unequal exchange in material and nonmaterial commodities in society, and unequal exchange, past and/or present, is the cause of the appear- ance of "weaker sections" in a society.

A glaring example of these possibilities is the emergence of Bangladesh. Unequal exchange in the economic life of the people made the Eastern Wing of Pakistan the weaker section of the society and led to its alienation from the Western Wing. Unequal exchange in the social and ideological life of the people led to the alienation of the bdngdl Pakistanis from the paschimaT Pakistanis. The ultimate result was the disintegration of Pakistan and the formation of Bangladesh (Mukherjee 1 972a: 137-62).

Trends toward alienation are observed in virtually all regions of India. Some groups demand secession from India, as in the North Eastern Frontier Region. Some demand cultural or some other form of autonomy, as in the case of the "hill people" of West Bengal or the Jharkand movement in Bihar. Some merely demand economic, social, and political redress, but assume a belligerent character, like the Shiv Sena and the Dalit Panthers. Other instances of alienation may be incipient, dormant, or not strongly expressed. All these manifestations of alienation arise from unequal exchange in material and nonmaterial commodities between the stronger and the weaker sections of the society.

Thus, the facts of life tell us that clues to national integration will not be found in a deductive model of consolidation and a positivistic approach toward embodying a unilateral or diffused value-load. But it is precisely in this manner that the call for national integration has been sounded in independent India. The upshot is that the call for national integration has had to be sounded again and again, commissions for national integration have had to be appointed one after another, and so far this has produced mainly pious declarations in accord with the slogan of "unity in diversity."

What we require instead is a rigorous and consistent search for facts regarding the what, how, and why of all actualities

and possibilities of alienation in Indian society, based on an inductive-inferential orientation. The search will refer to a systematic and ever more comprehensive examination of the diverse facets of the life of the people. Valid inferences as to the contextual reality should, then, tell us how to forge national integration by eliminating the causes of alienation. Since we have not yet undertaken this painstaking task, our knowledge of the varied nature and extent of alienation in Indian society remains marginal and fragmentary.

IV

Even from such an overview only, we thus find that issues of universal appeal are either intangible (like poverty and inequality), diffuse (like the "weaker sections" of society), or indiscriminately value-loaded (like national integration). Con- sequently, they may look impressive, speedily gather official support, and provide researchers an easy way to establish their bonafides. All the same, they remain inadequate or inefficient to unfold social reality. What concerns us most, however, is that they do not refer directly to the dynamics of society, without which an appraisal of reality will always remain equivocal or peripheral. Thus, poverty is a symptom, and not the disease. Inequality is the expression of the disease. The "weaker sections" of a society merely embody the disease. And the call for national integration has to be sounded when the disease is suspected or detected to exhibit cancerous growth. So long as we do not diagnose the disease itself, it will go on corroding the vitality of society. It may even prove lethal in the context of "national integration" and other popular labels. Therefore, the urgent task of social anthropologists, as of all other brands of social scientists, is to diagnose the disease.

Accordingly, instead of being swayed by issues of universal appeal, we should deal with those which refer directly to the dynamics of a society. We should also be concerned with those issues which involve such concepts and definitions as are tangible, measurable, deducible, and, finally, inferable on a strictly objective and probabilistic basis. Our attention, con- sequently, is drawn to the contradictions in society, for contradictions generate and nourish situations which lead to change in society in terms of replacement and replaceability of societal entities. Correspondingly, no society can exist without changing, that is, without being constantly in a state of dynamic equilibrium. It is the resolution of contradictions, therefore, which forges consolidation of a society and promotes its growth. Hence, contradiction is the medium through which the dynamics of a society can be appreciated unequivocally and comprehensively.

Such an appreciation of social reality is not possible in terms of "consolidation," "harmony," "unity in diversity," "co- existence," and similarly positive points of view. As we have seen, a focus on the positive aspect of reality is very likely to neglect its negative aspect. In contrast, a focus on the negative aspect of reality cannot neglect the positive aspect, for the former cannot be appreciated at all without its positive ante- cedence, contemporary presence and alliance with other phenomena, and future potentialities. It is precisely from this perspective that the facts of contradiction can be elicited in a society, because contradictions denote the negative aspect of reality in a society in a given place-time-object circuit.

The search for and analysis of contradictions in a society may therefore be our operative principle for appraising social reality unequivocally and comprehensively. Accordingly, we may focus our attention on such societal characteristics as dis- parity and its consequences in the social sphere, and not just pursue the omnibus concept of inequality. In the economic sphere, we may examine the facts of deprivation and expropri- ation, and not merely interpret poverty. Class collaboration




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY and conflict (and not any vague characterization of the "weaker sections" of society) may correspondingly draw our attention in the political sphere. In the ideological sphere, we may explore the instances of unequal exchange and alienation instead of harping on the theme of national integration. Need- less to sav, while emphasizing one or another of these spheres for analytical or conceptual purposes we can (and should) examine these societal characteristics with reference to the others.

These and allied characteristics in any society can be conceived in terms of precisely formulated themes of research. The themes will, no doubt, take into account various issues, concepts, and formulations relating to the life of the people concerned, including those we have discussed, but they will not be confined to any one of these issues, etc., or be biassed in favour or against it. Also, the themes will be considered, as appropriate, either in a value-free manner, in terms of the concept of social change, or against a systematized constellation of value-loads, in terms of the concept of social development.

Whether or not these themes will be sufficient to unfold social reality will depend on our unequivocal accumulation of knowledge from them. This, evidently, will be decided by our unbiassed but all-value-accommodating disposition and the consequent rigour of research. The quest for knowledge will thus be translated into a never-ending sequence of activities, and we should be able to unfold social reality with ever more precision and comprehensibility.

V

This, therefore, should be the task of social anthropologists, and it is the need of the hour. Like all other social science disciplines, social anthropology has reached a stage in which it can no longer fulfil its role by merely describing societal phenomena-answering the questions "What is it?" and "How is it?"-or explaining their disappearance, emergence, or persistence-answering the question "Why is it?" Instead, the discipline must now answer, on a probability basis, the question "What will it be?" The importance of this last question is evident from our failure to anticipate what has happened since the 1950s in Korea, Indonesia, Ghana, Nigeria, Vietnam, Bangladesh, Chile, Thailand, and elsewhere. It is also indicated by what is happening at present in India, and not only in the political arena.

The dynamics of our society is still left mainly to the economists to determine, but they have not shown perceptible achievement in this respect. Instead, discontent among them has been manifest in the Planning Commission itself. On the other hand, we have entered the arena more by proxy than in our own right, for there is a growing awareness that the economists alone cannot solve the problems of the social system.

At this critical juncture in our discipline and in our society, our supremely important task is to marshal all our a priori knowledge-all the available theories, their interpretations, and the ever accumulating empirical findings-and employ it to answer the crucial question we face today: Which societal factors are of causal relevance, which of concomitant and contingent importance, and which irrelevant for exposing social reality?

We need, therefore, to formulate our task in a meticulous, instead of a spectacular, manner. We must look upon it as a down-to-earth business, instead of an impressive manoeuvre. If we accept our responsibilities, our efforts may not catch the official eye; accordingly, we may not be blessed with munifi- cence in power and lucre. At the same time, our work may not be welcome to the opposition, failing as it will to provide anyone with a quick return. We will not, therefore, be crowned with the halo of revolutionaries. Thus, we may find ourselves

in a no-man's-land between the Establishment and the Opposi- tion, which appear today to have a contending monopoly over the appraisal of social reality in every nation-state in the world. Irrespective of our position vis-a-vis these formidable interest groups, however, our activities will not promote emotional up- surge or help to devise catchy political slogans for either one.

Science must not be the handmaiden of politics, or of any power-secular or sacred-other than knowledge itself. To speak of the role of science in this manner is almost a cliche, but the cliche has topical relevance today in virtually all world societies. Undoubtedly, knowledge is not an end in itself and must be employed for the betterment of humanity. But the quest for knowledge cannot be controverted by saying that scientists should not only reveal social reality, but also change it. Unless there is an objective and rigorous attempt to unfold reality in the manner I have outlined, the attempt to change society may end in failure. What is worse, it may have danger- ous consequences for the future of society.

Therefore, in response to the call to change society (but not on a dogmatic-doctrinaire basis), I may go forward from Marx and Lenin and remind the extreme materialists of the words of Mao Tse-tung (1952:50-52): "In the process of development of a complex thing, many contradictions exist; . . . There is nothing in this world that is absolutely even in its development, and we must oppose the theory of even development or the theory of equilibrium." For the extreme idealists, on the other hand, I shall go back to Article 10 of Kenopanishad. It contains no dogma or doctrine, and no other value than the quest for knowledge. The verse-as translated by my teacher Prasanta Chandra Mahalanobis-reads as follows:

I do not think I know very well nor that I do not know. He knows who knows this I do not know and I know.

ABSTRACT

In keeping with its present state of theoretical and methodological development and the ever accumulating stock of empirical information, the role of social anthropology today is not merely to describe or to explain a phenomenon (or a set of phenomena). Proceeding sequentially by answering the three questions "What is it?", "How is it?", and "WVhy is it?", social anthropology should now be in a position to answer the fourth fundamental question in any scientific discipline, "What will it be?" To adopt this diagnostic role-to reveal the social reality unequivocally and comprehensibly, which is what all world societies need today-social anthropologists must have a particular orientation toward their education and a distinctive ideology: otherwise the outcome of their efforts will be fragmentary, inconsequential, or even distorted. The orientation should be inductive-inferential instead of deductive-positivistic. The ideology should be "value-accommodating" instead of "value-accepting" or "value-neutral."

The paper deals with the ideological requirements for unfolding social reality, at the same time pointing out how these are to be buttressed with the corresponding education. It shows, with particular reference to India and Uganda, how the value-neutral and value-accepting approaches, which are logically associated with a deductive-positivistic orientation, produce illusory images of social dynamics. It argues, in the context of "social development," that the two approaches cannot but produce dogmas and doctrines. Lastly, it suggests how the task of anthropologists may be organized on a value-

Vol. 17 * No. 1 * March 1976 83



accommodating basis, with the consequent inductive-inferential orientation.

RE'SUMP

En accord avec son present etat de developpement theorique et methodologique et avec le stock, en constant accroissement, d'informations empiriques, le r8le de l'anthropologie sociale aujourd'hui n'est pas simplement de decrire ou expliquer un phenomene (ou un ensemble de phenomenes). Procedant par ordre en repondant aux trois questions ((qu'est-ce que c'est?)), ((comment est-ce?)) et ((pourquoi est-ce?)) l'anthropologie sociale devrait maintenant etre en mesure de repondre a la quatrieme question fondamentale de toute discipline scienti- fique: ((qu'est-ce que ce sera?)) Afin d'adopter ce r8le de diagnostic dans le but de reveler la realite sociale sans equivoque et d'une maniere comprehensible, ce qui est le besoin actuel pour toutes les societes du monde, les anthropologues doivent donner une orientation particuliere a leur education et avoir une ideologie distincte: sinon le resultat de leurs efforts serait fragmentaire, illogique, ou meme errone. L'orientation devrait etre ((induction-inference)) au lieu d'etre ((deduction-positivisme)). L'ideologie devrait etre ((valeur-ajustement)) au lieu de ((valeur-acceptation)) ou ((valeur-neutre)).

L'article traite de l'ideologie necessaire pour reveler la realite sociale, tout en montrant comment elle doit etre supportee par une education adequate. II montre, en se ref6rant en particulier a l'Inde et a l'Uganda, comment les approches valeur-neutre et valeur-acceptation, qui sont logiquement associees a une orientation deduction-positivisme, produisent des images illusoires de dynamismes sociaux. II discute, dans un contexte de ((developpement social)), de la maniere dont les deux approches engendrent dogmes et doctrines. Enfin, il suggere comment la tache des anthropologues pourrait etre organisee sur une base valeur-ajustement, avec pour resultat une orientation induction-inf6rence.

RESUMEN

De acuerdo con su estado actual de desarrollo teorico y metodologico y las siempre crecientes reservas de informacion empirica, la funcion presente de la antropologia social no es simplemente describir o explicar un fenomeno (o conjunto de fenomenos). Al proceder consecutivamente con respuestas a las tres preguntas: ((qque es?)), ((Zcomo es?)) y ((Zpor que es?)) la antropologia social debiera hallarse ahora en posicion de responder a la cuarta pregunta fundamental de toda disciplina cientifica: ((qque sera?)) Para adoptar dicha funcion diagnostica- dora que revele la realidad social sin equivocos y de modo inteligible, asunto necesario para todas las sociedades mundia- les contemporaneas, los antropologos sociales necesitan una orientacion particular en su educacion y una ideologia especi- fica; de otro modo, los resultados de sus esfuerzos seran frag- mentarios, sin importancia o incluso falseados. La orientacion debiera ser inductiva-inferencial en vez de deductiva-positivista. La ideologia debiera ser ((acomodativa de valores)) en lugar de ((aceptadora de valores)) o ((valorativa-neutra)).

El trabajo se refiere al requisito ideologico para descubrir la realidad social, a la vez que sefiala como debe ser reforzado por la educacion respectiva. Indica, con referencia particular a la India y Uganda, c6mo los enfoques valorativo-neutro y aceptador de valores, asociados l6gicamente con una orientacion deductivo-positivista, producen imatgenes ilusorias de la dinatmica social. Analiza, en el contexto del ((desarrollo social ),

como ambos enfoques no pueden sino producir dogmas y doctrinas. Por uiltimo, propone como organizar la tarea de los antropologos sobre una base acomodativa de valores, con la consiguiente orientacion inductiva-inferencial.

PE3OME

B COOTBseTCTBH C HaCTOH1IqHM COCTOJHHeM TeopeTnleciHoro H Me-

ToJAoJIorH'1ecHoro pa3BBTHH, 1 C IIOCTOJHHO BO3paCTCiO11HM

3aiiacom 3MIImpHiICeCX gaHHrIX, po3m cogiHa3mHoft anTpOHO-

niorim cerojAHJ COCTOIIT He TOJIThO B TOM, x1T06 OIICHaTb 113111

UOSICHHTb HBJIeHHe (ijm HOmneIKC aBjieHiitt). Hepexogs nocaie-

goBaTeJIbHO, IIYTeM OTBeTOB Ha TpII Boiipoca ((xITO 3TO?)) ((KaK

OHO eCTI? )) ((4'ICoMemy OHO eCT1?D)) COgiHJILHaH aBTpOnOJIOrHi

TenepiB JO3iIHa 6iITIb B COCTOSHB1 gaTIb OTBeT Ha xieTBepTLI*,

OCHOBHOfi BOIIpOC, CBOftCTBeHHNI1 1 II6Oft HayxiHOft A14CAIniH3MHe: ((xieM OHO 6ygeT?)) LIIaI TOrO, xITO6II piMmeHBTh 3TY garHO- CTH'IeCKyio po3B xITO6 BUIHB4T onpejeJieHHO 14 BCeCTOpOHHe

coiCm3TIHYIO CyUAHOCTb, xITO B HaCTosmee BpeMS HeO6XOgiaMa

gau Beex cOO6ugeCTB MBpa, Cogiaa3IHIJm aHTponojioraM HyiHa

onpeejienHHaa Op}ieHTaginq no OTHOCeHBIO R BX O6pa3OBaHBIO,

a Taiune xapaxTepHaq i4geonIorHx. 4Haxe, peCyJIETaTLI HX

yC1JI'Il 6ypyT pa3pO3HeHEI, Henoc3Iie)OBaTeCbIlI, H g;amce i4cICamHCH-

HbEIe. 9Ta OpieHTaAi4HH )OJI1Ha 6uTIT 1HHyRTHBHO-B1IBOAHOR,

a He g;e)CaHTHBHO-113IHTHBICTCHOHl. 14geoJIorHm p;OJ1I1Ha 61SIT

((AxeHHOCTHO-IIpHCIIOCO6JisUIOWCe)) a He ((geHHOCTHO-BOCIIpsHssMa-

IoigeiiD) 13T mHe ((IxeHHOCTHO-HeCITpaJIBHO])).

HaCTOIHIIRz goiH3IRag paccMaTpRTBaeT H4eoJIorHi4eciHe IIOTpe6-

HOCTH A)1J paCHpbITHR COimHamTHOPI CyI1HOCTH, HOiRa3IBaR B TO

mne BpeMH, IBaI HX CJ)ep;yeT IIogICpeIIJI:TB COOTBeTCTBYIOHDHM

o6pa3oBaHleM. ,oicriag; yia3bIBaeT, OCO6eHHO nIO OTHoIIIeHHIO HC

14HH)z H YraH)e, BaR geHHOCTHO-HeCiTpa3IBHEJ1r H IeHHOCTHO-

BOC1pHHHMaTeJICLHbEIr IIOAXOAIEI, HOTOpICe jIOriHxiCRH OTHOCHTCH

H geCaRTHBHO-nO3HTHBICTCROft OpHCHTagiiH, )aIOT fpH3pa-1HbIe

o6pa3bI coIuHa3ThHoro );HHaMI3Ma. B goiuIiage yiHa3LIBaeTCH, IIOp

py6pHHoik ((CO1iHaIbHOrO pa3BHTHH)), iRiHM o6pa3OM 3TH )Ba

nogaxog;a );aIOT B peC3Y3TTaTe TO3ThHO gOrMbi H ORTTpIHHu. H

HaiHOHeg, g;oIRiiag yia3I:BCaeT icai- pa6OTy aHTpOi1O3IOrOB MOHO

opraHH3OBaTb Ha gseHHOCTHO-IIpHCIIOCO6HTeCIbHOS OCHOBe C pe3y3Ib-

TaTHBBOH HIHAYTHBHO-HHCpCeHIHOHHOIk opHCHTaiAueCI.

Comments

by XAVIER ALBO

Centro de Investigacio'n y Promocion del Campesinado, Casilla 5854, La Paz, Bolivia. 20 viii 75

Estoy b'asicamente de acuerdo con el fondo del articulo. Ob- jetivos nuevos, como los propuestos por Mukherjee, si merecen el titulo de "urgent anthropology." En cambio, muchos temas que a veces aparecen bajo este titulo, incluso en esta revista, corresponden en realidad a una antropologi a de rescate o de anticuario. Dadas las verdaderas urgencias actuales para enteulder el funcionamiento y prever el futuro de ciertas sociedades en conflicto, dedicarse a esa antropologia de anticuario, j es eticamente aceptable?

[I am basically in agreement with the essence of this article. New objectives, such as those proposed by Mukherjee, do indeed deserve the name of "urgent anthropology." Instead, many themes that sometimes appear under this name, even in this journal, in reality correspond to a salvage or antiquarian




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY anthropology. Given the real present-day urgency of understanding the functioning and predicting the future of certain societies in conflict, is it ethically acceptable to devote oneself to that antiquarian anthropology?]

bvJ. V. FERREIRA

Department of Sociologv, University of Bombay, Bombay, India. 29 viii 75

Mukherjee's paper is instructive insofar as he seeks to unveil the reality-distorting nature of the value orientations of social anthropologists in India, but it is unintelligible insofar as he seeks to solve the fact-value problem in the social sciences through value accommodation.

The social anthropologist in India has something in him of both the gymnosophist and the gymnast. Since values are constituents of social structure, the values of the gymnosophist must needs, consciously or unconsciously, hold the social anthropologist in thrall; but since he values his role as a scientist, the values of science must also exert their influence on him. He is thus forced to flex his muscles in balancing exercises. And if he often fails to retain his balance (distorts reality or subserves politics), this fact can be ascribed to the lop-sided values he has inherited or the instability of his position.

It has now become clear that the value judgments which give meaning and purpose to the social sciences cannot be derived from judgments of fact. One has to choose between positivism and some form of objective axiology. In the U.S.A. an attempt was made to defend an intermediate position through the quasi-objectivity and instrumental notions of the pragmatist outlook, but this, it is clear, is also untenable.

Mukherjee sees some measure of validity in all value orientations and, therefore, advocates value accommodation in order to verify the "right" kind of ideology. But if value judgments cannot be derived from judgments of fact, how is such verification possible? There is, it seems, a confusion here of two differing realms.

Perhaps that is why Mukherjee is also so hopeful that social anthropology can answer the question "What will it be?"

by RENATE VON GIzYCKI

35 Kassel-Wilhelmshdhe, Im Rosental 12, Federal Republic of Ger- many. 17 ix 75

To discuss thoroughly the issues raised in this paper would call for a seminar. I shall therefore confine myself to some questions concerning the role of social anthropology. Surely, it "can no longer fulfill its role by merely describing societal phenomena." I share the author's view that "the quest for knowledge is not an end in itself" and that it should be employed "for the benefit of the people" instead of being the "handmaiden of politics"- which so far has meant that it was used in the interest of the "Establishment," ruling or in opposition. I also agree that in order to be able to respond to "the call to change society" we must have a sober and precise analysis of reality and that we should formulate our task "in a meticulous, instead of a spectacular, manner." I am less convinced of the methodological and ideological requirements the author proposes for unfolding social reality as a first step "for the betterment of humanity." The value question, although an everyday problem in anthropological research, has often been neglected. Fortunately, there is an increasing awareness of this problem, not only in India but also in other countries, particularly of the so-called Third World, and an increasing tendency to assess critically

concepts and theories developed in the specific context of the Western tradition (e.g., Magubane 1971) and to reveal their ethno- or Eurocentric character (Clemmer 1974, Ribeiro 1971). In this context the author's solid analysis of such a basic concept of social science as "social development" and its differential value-loads is certainly an important contribution; it gives ample proof of the confusion produced by its uncritical use. Similarly, village studies and peasant movements are telling examples of how the lack of a frame of reference leads to a fragmented and distorted view of the world. Uganda is another case in point to demonstrate the illusory nature of certain theor-etical concepts-their fallacies in understanding and predicting social dynamics. The dichotomy postulated by Mukherjee-"inductive-inferential" versus "deductive-positivistic"-seems to me somewhat artificial or rather undialectic. On what basis does the social scientist select his empirical data? How does he identify and assess facts? What are his criteria for relevance? Where do "available theories" come from?

Some more remarks on "The Task of Anthropologists": Having critically discussed the "value-neutrality" of the idealist and the "value-statement" of the materialist, Mukherjee tries to develop his notion of "value-accommodator," underlining the necessity of correctly appraising the "relative relevance" of "all social aspects" in unfolding social reality as it is. His commendable attempt thus to bridge the gap between theory and research raises the serious question: Where does he stand? Does he dispose of some Archimedian point outside ordinary value systems? Is he the free-floating intellectual, aloof of all ideologies? Without elaborating on the epistemological side of the problem, doesn't the very question " 'what is it?' and 'what is it not?' " pose at least psychological problems (e.g., of perception and prejudice)? The analyst remains outside his field of research, without reflecting his being involved in the social reality he is trying to analyse. I rather believe Habermas (1965,1971) to be right when he demands that we apply the method of dialectic thinking in considering the objective context which is to be analysed as part of the subjective research process. This would mean a rigorous reflection of the anthropologist's hidden values, his ideology and conditions of work- that is, not "value-statement," "neutrality," or "accommodation," but the value-reflection of critical anthropology. Finally, much as I like the author's confession that "peace, prosperity, and progress" are "the three value considerations on which the character of human society is grounded," I cannot help noting that there are some contradictions in his argument. Ideally, and in accordance with the author's understanding of the function of contradictions, they should be made productive through further discussion, for this new "dogma"-which is not related to the author's previous analysis-also has an old Western tradition. And we cannot close our eyes to the fact that Enlightenment values like "progress" have also been useful ideology for insurgency prophylaxis (Camelot) and "development programs" (a la Rostow for Vietnam). I therefore doubt whether the proposed methodological and ideological requirements will be sufficient safeguard against the misuse of diagnosis by those who have the power and the means to do so. This situation may call for not only a more comprehensive theoretical framework than "value-accommodation," but also some kind of commitment to the powerless, maybe in the form of action research (Schlesier 1974).

by GUTORM GJESSING

Chr. Hansteensveg 2, Oslo 8, Norway. 15 Ix 75

Several years ago a well-known British social anthropologist told me that while he was working in England Ramkrishna

Vol. 17 . No. 1 March 1976 85



Mukherjee certainly proved to be a good anthropologist, but his theoretical outlook was rather simple and unsophisticated. It seems to me that this article, like those of his previous writings I happen to know, clearly shows that my British friend was right-starting from his own premises! Mukherjee obviously seeks the reality of social life instead of theoretical systems in which extremely high levels of scientistic abstraction and logically aesthetic play are more important than reality. There can be no doubt whatsoever that Western social anthropology is to a great extent occupied with problems which to the peoples under study are trivialities rather than reflecting their socio- cultural reality.

Reality means, amongst other things, constantly confronting values, hence so-called value-free social science can never portray the real life of a people. Nevertheless, as prominent a social anthropologist as Evans-Pritchard wrote (1951:88, emphasis mine): "The anthropologist is recorder, not arbiter. For him to decide that one fact is important and another fact is unimportant is to prejudge the interests of future generations" [of anthropologists!]. Nevertheless, on the same page one reads: "The prevailing practice tends to be for the fieldworker to publish monographs on one or other aspect of the life of a primitive people which seems to him to have particular importance." In other words, what has importance, value, for the people under study is not only entirely irrelevant, but detrimental to social science, in contrast to what is of value to the Western observer. And his values have been convincingly stated by Maquet (1964) to be in constant conformity with the development of colonialist interests.

Mukherjee's article clearly demonstrates the fallacy of such a view and the necessity for anthropologists in other parts of the world to free themselves from the fetters of Western thought. Moreover, if Western anthropology is to survive it has to root out such an "occidentocentric" view from anthropological thought. The most effective cure might be for Asian and African anthropologists to do their fieldwork in the United States, Great Britain, or elsewhere in the West and paint their portrait of Western civilization with their own colours!

If I understand Mukherjee correctly, his means of attaining an anthropology closer to reality would be to abandon deductive, positivistic theories in favour of inductive, more eclectic ones, which would make dialectic thought necessary, or at any rate possible. I find this very promising, because, as Engels once remarked, dialectics is much older than the term itself, just as people spoke prose long before the term "prose" was invented. In fact, dialectics, thinking in terms of and unifying opposites, seems to be universal outside the Western industrialized world and dominated even Western thought right up to the advent of positivism and liberalism. The philosophy of the Enlighten- ment, thus, was markedly dialectical, as was the thinking of Zeno and, not least, Plato.

On the whole, I find Mukherjee's article an extremely important and, indeed, necessary awakener. In my opinion, however, we should be careful not to abandon deductive theory altogether (perhaps this is not Mukherjee's intention either), but strive to find a sound basis for deductions, and a means to that would be dialectics or (my own variety) thinking in terms of complementarities (Gjessing 1968).

bv KATHLEEN GOUGH

Department of Anthropologv and Sociology, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, B.C., Canada V6T 1W5. 16 Ix 75

I agree with Mukherjee's criticisms of social scientists' use of such concepts as "change and continuity," "development," and "tradition and modernization" and of the ways in which they have approached the study of poverty and inequality. I

also agree with his assessment of particular endeavours in India, such as the excessive concern with village studies and, until recently, the assumption that castes are more significant formations than classes. Mukherjee's paper contains a number of such trenchant comments on the current, Western-influenced social sciences in India and the Third World generally, and some valuable suggestions. Especially necessary are his injunc- tions that we sort out "the causal, concomitant, or contingent relevance of societal factors for revealing social reality" and that we try to grasp the overall dynamics of any given social field, in particular its contradictions and their potential for one or another direction of social change. In addition I heartily en- dorse his view that social scientists ought not to be the hand- maidens either of the political Establishment(s) or of the Op- position(s), in the sense that they ought not to accept ideologies, theories, and concepts ready-made from political parties, governments, or social movements, but should think them out for themselves in the light of all the available theories and evidence.

Some of Mukherjee's points are, however, confusing to me, or perhaps I do not understand them. I am not sure of the value of his "null hypothesis." I am confused by his recommendation that we research inductively rather than deductively, yet that we also "marshal all our a priori [i.e., deductive] knowledge" in order to answer crucial questions of today. (Surely we should work both deductively and inductively, from theories back to facts and then back to theories again.) And while I agree that virtually none of the current images of reality is entirely untrue, I do not think it is enough to analyse and compare the "value loads" of different theories and adopt the role of value- accommodator. Some theories are much better than others (i.e., more explanatory of the known facts), and it is surely necessary to reject some current values as well as to accommodate others. Moreover, while I agree that social scientists should not uncritically accept the ideologies of political parties or movements, in a general way I think it is true that (as Marxists usually argue) they must and do explicitly or im- plicitly choose between values that preserve the status quo and support the ruling classes of their societies and values that advocate changes that will benefit the "weaker sections." How- ever careful and systematic we are in our examination of facts and theories, I do not think we can avoid choosing some values and rejecting others.

I am also less optimistic than Mukherjee about predicting the immediate future of the "societal entity under examination." We may, of course, and perhaps should, try to do so, but we shall probably at best be able to say only "If that happens then this is likely." I am actually more optimistic about predicting the long-range than the immediate future. It seems to me that one can, for example, with fair certainty predict that the capitalist system will eventually disappear, or that the world will eventually be politically united, short of a nuclear war. One can make such predictions on the commonsense grounds that all former social systems have eventually disappeared, that social aggregates have grown larger in the course of cultural evolution, and that the world already possesses a single economy and is therefore likely to develop a unitary polity. What, however, will happen to the Indian or the Bangladeshi political system in the next twelve months is, for example, I think less predictable.

It is noteworthy that this article by a prominent Indian anthropologist influenced by the Marxist tradition is written at a time of acute conflict among pro-U.S.S.R., pro-China, and various groups of independent Marxist parties and movements, not least in India. This situation-the assertion of strong nation-state interests among avowedly Marxist governments and movements-makes it especially necessary for Marxist social scientists to assert, in their research, the right of independence from any particular political group and its




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY ideology. The ever growing economic interdependence of all nation-states also makes it essential for them to study the world society as a single system and to explore its implications for whatever segment of social reality they choose to examine.

by DELMOS J. JONES

Graduate Center, City University of New rork, 33 W. 42d St., N.Y. 10036, U.S.A. 10 ix 75

There is much about Mukherjee's paper that I like: the points about the distortion of reality, the inadequate or faulty education of anthropologists, and the one-sided ideology are all important for an understanding of the present state of the discipline.

There is a great deal of dogmas and doctrines in anthropology, and this leads to statements about the kind of subject matter which is appropriate for anthropologists to study. Mukherjee suggests, and I agree, that despite the extensive emphasis on fieldwork and data collection anthropology is a deductive rather than an inductive science. If many of the generalizations found in the anthropological literature are closely inspected, they will be found to be empirically and logically unfounded. Much of this may be due to the dogmas and doctrines to which Mukherjee refers, but it may also reflect the inadequate attention paid to the logic of inquiry as con- trasted with techniques of data collection.

Yet there are parts of Mukherjee's paper that I find puzzling. One puzzle is his concept of value accommodation. This seems to define a practice of considering all possible values which exist in a situation without emphasizing one over the other. "Value-accommodating" is offered in contrast to "value- neutral." He asserts that "the gap between theory and research may thus be bridged by a value-free, but value-accommodating inductive-inferential approach to revealing social reality." In my own research on problems relating to "poverty" and "interethnic" relations, I have tried to proceed in a manner similar to that which Mukherjee proposes. It is the attempt to answer the question of "what will be" rather than "what is" which forces one to deal with all of the relevant factors which are forming the future. The author writes that we must deal with the question of "what will be" on a probabilistic basis. This means to me that there are always more than one possible outcome. Should not the anthropologist also have something to say about which outcome is desirable (see Clark 1974)? May not the fact of revealing the possible outcomes of present social processes in and of itself have an impact on the outcome? Is there not a relationship between the knowledge produced by social science and the reality which results? Is this not what Marx meant in part by praxis? Mukherjee states that "science must not be the handmaiden of politics, or of any power ... other than knowledge itself." Is this to say that science or the production of knowledge is not a societal process? Is this to say that truth is pure? He speaks of a social reality "objectively, precisely, and comprehensively" described and advocates a procedure which he claims will produce such a description. He does not address the philosophical issue relating scientific research to the construction of social reality (see McEwen 1973: 6-19).

The most realistic approach to the study of a social phenomenon is to appreciate its ever changing nature. It is also important to be acutely aware of the input of social science research to that reality. Thus research can be a handmaiden of politics despite the intention or the value position of the researcher. It is for this reason that a critical perspective is important in the scientific undertaking. While Mukherjee's paper takes a critical perspective, he turns around and locks the door. What disturbs me more about the present situation

is not the distortion of reality which Mukherjee describes, but the unwillingness continually to reinspect our perceptions of that reality. Insofar as Mukherjee is asking us to assume a critical, logical, and scientific perspective, I applaud his efforts, but if he is trying to tell us, as it sometimes appears, that he has found the answer, I can only say that he is substituting one dogma for another.

by DAVID G. MANDELBAUM

Department of Anthropology, University of California, Berkeley, Calif. 94720, U.S.A. 26 viii 75

It would be useful if Mukherjee could expand a bit on the concept of contradictions in the analysis of cultures and of societies. If it is a crucial concept for social anthropology, as he suggests, it clearly has not been sufficiently used, and possibly it has not yet been carefully enough defined by anthropologists for their purposes (see Friedman 1974:447-49). Since Mukherjee has mentioned my Society in India (1970), let me take several examples of what are, perhaps too casually, referred to as contradictions in that work, directly or by implication, and ask whether they are examples of Mukherjee's understanding of the concept or are tangential or irrelevant to it. On pp. 125-27, there is mention of the "inherent contradiction and continuing strain in family life," largely because of differing expectations among a set of brothers. On p. 466, there is note of "contradictions between ideal and real practice" within an upwardly mobile jati or a caste association. On p. 628, one of the sum- marizing statements reads "The ideology of noncompetitive varnas is firmly believed while competitive social action among jatis is firmly urged." On p. 662, another kind of contradiction is noted, that between analysts who emphasize that stratification supports stability and those who view stratification as an inherent source of conflict.

I should also note that the respective subtitles of the two volumes of Society in India were intended to indicate, by the use of word order, the emphasis of each volume. These subtitles were not, as Mukherjee indicates that they were, meant to characterize the nature of Indian society. Insofar as I could attempt such characterization, it is given in a number of passages of the work and summarized in the two final chapters.

by XTO. G. OKOJIE

Zuma Memorial Hospital, Irrua, Midwest, Nigeria. 2 ix 75

Mukherjee's brilliant essay has brought the essence of social anthropology into clear focus: it is a search for social reality. Many social anthropologists, obviously embarrassed by the crisis that years of "tribal study" have come to create for them, particularly in the emerging nation-states of Africa and Asia, have turned their research searchlights upon issues of universal appeal which not only look impressive, but speedily catch the official eye and gather support, thus providing them with ready research funds and acclaim. In nearly every case they have spent valuable time chasing shadows rather than sub- stance and treating unpleasant symptoms while leaving the undiagnosed disease to run its downhill course. Using the unique characteristics of India he obviously knows so well, Mukherjee has effectively shown that contradictions in society generate and nurture social cankers like poverty, inequality, oppression of the weaker sections of the society, manifestations of alienation, and national disintegration, all of which are

Vol. 17 * No. 1 * March 1976 87



today still eroding the vitality of society, long after the hated colonial era. He has forcefully directed our attention to issues which refer directly to the dynamics of a society.

Indeed, many have asked why social anthropologists have been so slow to react to these social phenomena. Classifying themselves as specialists in primitive societies and thus engrossed in interminable village and tribal studies, they have had little time for the necessary rigorous and consistent search for facts which would help forge national integration by eliminating the causes of alienation. Secondly, and this may be the weightier reason, apart from the fact that such exercises would be less likely to attract research funds, X-raying these social contradictions would not only be unpalatable to those who hold the reins of power, but could invite unpleasant consequences for the anthropologists and social scientists, particularly if they were alien to the society in question.

by K. PADDAYYA

Department of Archaeology, Deccan College Postgraduate and Re- search Institute, Poona 6, India. 29 viii 75

I must start by confessing that I am neither a sociologist nor a social anthropologist, and my being an archaeologist (more precisely, a prehistorian) does not put me in a preeminent position to comment upon Mukherjee's stimulating paper in an elaborate way. My only justification for writing the following few lines is that I keep myself informed of the major socio- economic developments in present-day Indian society.

I congratulate Mukherjee for his bold and lucid analysis of the type of descriptive work which sociologists and social anthropologists in India have been carrying out for the last two decades or so. More importantly, he has put forth in clear terms the kind of approach which they ought to adopt in future if their research is to be of any relevance for understanding and bringing about social change. While some of the cases which Mukherjee cites in formulating his thesis are bound to be vehemently contested by some of his senior colleagues in sociology and social anthropology, I feel certain that his views will be shared by many social scientists. I have in mind the following two aspects:

First, he is right in advocating that if social science research is not to become a thing of inconsequence, it must shed "value neutrality." Each research programme or study must have a set of clearly formulated values; it is only then that social scientists can become active participants in the process of changing social reality. Secondly, I also agree with him that the deductive-positivistic approach of the past two decades has by and large not given us anything beyond passive, descriptive studies. In fact, it has sometimes produced a distorted picture of the social reality, e.g., the blind acceptance of the blanket grouping of all persons belonging to Scheduled Castes and Tribes under the term "weaker sections." We know that this is not always correct. As Mukherjee himself mentions, many persons belonging to these groups are quite strong, both economically and politically. Further, we are also aware of the fact that millions of people belonging to the higher castes are weak (economically and otherwise), so much so that we sometimes hear of cases of caste-Hindu students (not able to secure a place by virtue of their merit) producing false certificates and trying to get admission to certain prestigious colleges and institutes through the quotas reserved for Scheduled Castes and Tribes! Is it not the job of social scientists to formulate objective criteria for "poverty," "inequality," and "weaker sections"? Mukherjee rightly emphasises the need for an inductive approach in such studies.

by MICHEL PANOFF

28, Chaussee de l'Etang, 94160 Saint-Mande, France. 16 Ix 75

Let us look in succession at each of the two parts of this stimulating paper. First, all the criticisms addressed by Mukherjee to anthropology as a discipline and anthropologists as pro- fessionals seem to me thoroughly justified. In particular, although Fanon (1968) and Nizan (1960) have already said it most cogently with regard to the whole of European thought, it is still useful for anthropologists to be told by an anthropologist that humane world views are but complacent ideas held by those social classes, nations, or races enjoying power, wealth, and leisure and projecting their sectional dreams onto the objective realm of conflicts, moral humiliation, and economic exploitation. In the special field of anthropology, where we feel so proud of our professional ambition to look at any reality from a supposedly universal point of view, we badly need to be reminded that theorizing aimed at universal truths is far from neutral. I also concur with Mukherjee in the sad belief that most, if not all, Grand Projects of applied anthropology merely produce more research institutions and more career opportunities for researchers and "science managers." What happened in the French colonial territories is a case in point, for it can be shown that all the applied social research resulted only in (1) lending an authoritarian bureaucracy the palatable image of enlightenment and respect for science and intellect and (2) giving policy makers adequate justification or fashionable camouflage for their decisions (see Panoff 1968a, b). Finally, what anthropologist would hesitate to support Mukherjee's plea for a permanent and complete handing over of anthropological knowledge to the peoples studied by anthropologists? The statement by a North African student quoted here should be a powerful reminder for all of us.

As for the second part of this article, Mukherjee's suggestions on the task of anthropologists, I should own that I am rather embarrassed. While I follow him when he is examining both so-called value-free anthropology and value-assertive anthropologists, I am not clear at all when he advocates his third alternative. I find it difficult to see where and how an anthropologist can stand between (or above?) these two positions. Perhaps, in his reply, he might care to develop this point in detail?

by SATISH SABERWAL

History Centre, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi 110 057, India. 3 ix 75

In this characteristic essay, Mukherjee is concerned with our metavalues, that is, values that could be employed to bring other values under intellectual control. His special interest is in that phase of the sociological enterprise wherein the focus is upon particular societies, and he defines the sociologist's task as one of providing "an objective and comprehensive appraisal of reality." I take it that he does not believe that the trajectory of "reality" could, as for a cricket ball, be charted along a single curve; and in any society as complex as India, Mu- kherjee's particular focus, it seems most unlikely that the pros- pects on such issues as territorial integrity, militarism, industri- alism, inequalities, peasant movements, cultural and intellectual activity, religious cults, and so forth could be anticipated with great accuracy.

The difficulty is that the question "What will it be?" often in other minds takes the form "What should we make it be?"; and the latter may be settled-not publicly but often clan- destinely-on behalf of one or another set of interests, within or beyond national boundaries. Regardless of where these




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY interests are located, if these are large enough and organized enough, thick partitions are likely to separate the sociologist from the critical points where the key answers to the question "What will it be?" are being shaped. Periscopes to look over the partitions are expensive-well beyond the reach of the sociologist who has renounced both power and lucre as well as the halo of the revolutionary. If by some mischance he hits upon a high-probability answer to the question "What will it be?" on some issue, Mukherjee will now have to get past the censor in order to reach "the people," his (as well as my) preferred audience. Between the writing of his essay and of my comment, an unanticipated shadow has fallen.

What, then, should one do? Really, I don't quite know, and, as in Mukherjee's case, by the time I have an answer, it will probably be either superfluous or not enactable.

by MONICA WILSON

Hunterstoun, Hogsback, 5705, South Africa. 19 IX 75

Mukherjee adds to understanding by the clarity with which he analyses certain fundamental problems in social anthropology, notably objectivity and relevance. He rightly asks what methods we can use to include all the relevant facts and suggests the systematic use of alternative hypotheses. In 1932 the Webbs (Methods of Social Study) were advocating the use of alternative hypotheses. Difficulty lies both in the number of possible alternatives and selection among them and in blindness to other alternatives. Investigation of a range of societies stimu- lates formulation of alternatives (e.g., in the relationships of generations) and investigation by individuals of differing status and education mitigates blindness. Mukherjee seems to imply that objectivity is attainable by one individual. In fact (as he doubtless would agree), the greatest measure of objectivity emerges from the clash of differing views and some synthesis between them. The chief danger lies in some single "authorized version" accepted for political, religious, or other reasons.

The shadow of an authorized version falls most heavily on the study of social change, for here many of the relevant facts about the past are unknown and irrecoverable, and any study of change depends upon a hypothesis of what has happened in past time. The preoccupation of social anthropologists with what is at the moment of study was not accidental, but a necessary base for the study of what has been, and therefore of change, in a later generation. A close analysis of change in relations of generations, and men and women, among the Nyakyusa-Ngonde people (of Tanzania and Malawi) over the past 100 years shows a zig-zag process, closely linked both to particular economic changes and to religious changes. The general direction of change may well be predictable as many

societies are compared: the particular zig-zag is unlikely to be predictable, since variables are so many.

Reply

by RAMKRISHNA MUKHERJEE

Indian Statistical Institute, 203, Barrackpore Trunk Rd., Calcutta 700 035, India. 31 x 75

An analysis of the comments on my paper is given in table 1. I am rather surprised to find such a large measure of agreement on the views I expressed in my provocative paper, and the nature of the disagreement seems to me to substantiate the utility of my proposal. In this brief reply, it would not be possible to discuss all the points raised by the commentators or even to deal with the major ones exhaustively or adequately. Therefore, I shall first offer certain postulates and later treat them with reference to the commentator(s) concerned.

1. Since nothing moves on a frictionless surface and society is ever changing (and resting at any point in time and place in a state of dynamic equilibrium), contradictions may be regarded as the media for appraising social reality. Unless society is a random phenomenon and thus beyond systematic and scientific comprehension, however, not all forms of contradiction and all kinds of preceding and resulting stratification, inequality, etc., can be of equal relevance to change.

2. The relative relevance to social change of different forms of contradiction and their concomitants cannot be ascertained in an unconstrained manner on the basis of a deductive- positivistic orientation to research. The suitable base is an inductive-inferential one, which gives free rein to both deductive and inductive processes in the appraisal of reality.

3. The inductive-inferential orientation to research is sustained by the formulation, testing, verification, and further formulation of alternate hypotheses. The null hypothesis provides the neutral base (the zero level) for the formulation of alternate hypotheses in the given state of comprehension of the subject in question. Alternate hypotheses therefore increase in number with reference to the nature and extent of variation brought to account, but they can be satisfactorily handled by systematically collating them in sequential order and classifying each collation into homologous and analogous sets.

4. Since different forms of contradiction and their concomitants will be reflected as different facets of social reality, all these facets will be valid for precise and comprehensive

TABLE 1

ANALYSIS OF COMMENTS

NATURE AND EXTENT OF AGREEMENT COMMENTATORS

Implied disagreement on the role of the anthropologist as reviewed under "Illusion and Reality" Mandelbaum (U.S.A.)

Agreement with review under "Illusion and Reality" and "Dogmas and Doctrines," but not with the research orientation proposed under "The Task of Anthropologists":

1. Deductive orientation is underplayed or inductive orientation overplayed. Gjessing (Norway), Wilson (South Africa)

2. "Value accommodator" approach is confusing and/or has pernicious implications. Ferreira (India), Jones (U.S.A), Panoff (France)

3. Both conceptual and methodological objections (see 1 and 2) von Gizycki (F.R.G.), Gough (Canada)

Agreement with all three parts of the paper, with the task either unconditionally endorsed as Albo (Bolivia), Okojie (Nigeria), "urgent anthropology" or questioned only in practice. Paddayya (India), Saberwal (India)

Vol. 17 * No. I * March 1976 89



appraisal, but it follows from Postulate 1 that not all of them will be equally relevant to and qfficient for this task. Furthermore, the different facets of reality may be unilaterally stressed (if not exclusively exposed) according to the differential value- acceptance (or value-neutrality masking value-acceptance) of the researcher.

5. The efficiency of the different facets of reality and, correspondingly, of their value-loads will vary as eo . . . e.5 ... el (here we must bear in mind the possibility of the "confound- ing" of the facets and the value-loads in the process). According- ly, the acceptance of any one value-load and the consequent exposure of, or stress upon, one facet of reality on the basis of a deductive-positivistic orientation will be inefficient for appraising reality. Instead, all facets of reality comprehensible in the current state of knowledge (and correspondingly all value-loads) should be accommodated in order to ascertain their relevance and efficiency and thus identify which one (or which combination of facets and value-loads) is the most efficient.

6. The value-accommodator approach is, thus, neither abstruse nor a "dogma" (Jones), but indispensable for assessing efficiency. Since, on the basis of an inductive-inferential orientation, it will identify in an unconstrained manner which facet(s) and value-load(s) depict social reality most precisely and comprehensively in the existing state of knowledge, a proper and rigorous application of "the method of dialectical thinking in considering the objective context which is to be analyzed as part of the subjective research process" (von Gizycki) would equate to the value-accommodator approach.

7. All the above postulates would be jeopardized if value and fact were regarded as belonging to "two differing realms" (Ferreira), but, then, so would scientific investigation, thus establishing a value-load of inaction. Moreover, in such a situation, a choice "between positivism and some form of objective axiology" (Ferreira) would either increase confusion or provide the ground for the emergence of powerful dogmas and doctrines enforcing the value-load of negative action to crush all nonconformist actions.

8. Alternatively, if Postulates 1-6 are accepted, the answer to the question "What will it be?" will not be merely in terms of the formulation "If that happens then this is likely" (Gough), but in terms of the formulation "If xi happens, then yi will occur, and the probability that xi will happen is pi, where < Pi < Pi < Pk ... < 1." Also, as knowledge accumulates

by following postulates 1-6, pi in reference to . . Pi, P, * ... will be more and more precisely determined to enrich the order of probability. Correspondingly, the gulf between theory and research will become increasingly narrower and may eventually disappear.

9. While, objectively, the question "What should it be?" follows the question "What will it be?" with reference to postulates 1-6 and 8, the two questions may be equated under certain conditions, as in Postulate 7. Myrdal's "soft states" are becoming harder, and the range of tolerance of the consolidated states is becoming smaller. Therefore, the equation tends to operate more frequently, extensively, and intensively. Instead of being depressed by the spectre of "an unanticipated shadow" (Saberwal), however, social anthropologists should consider it as an aspect of reality involved in the appraisal process in terms of the systematized series of value-loads ranging from negative actions of different forms and directions at one end through the null point of no action to positive actions of different forms and directions at the other.

10. It follows from Postulate 9 that those who are interested and involved in "praxis" (Jones) can begin it at home (i.e., with fellow scientists) by precisely and comprehensively ''revealing the possible outcomes of present social processes'' (Jones) and thus answering the questions "What will it be?" and "What should it be?" in their proper and effective sequence.

The "relationship between the knowledge produced by social science and the reality which results" (Jones) can thus be forged in an unequivocal manner, in the current and the successively enriched state of knowledge, by following the inductive-inferential orientation to research and adopting its corollary, the value-accommodation approach.

In the light of these postulates, let us examine the comments in some detail. Table 1 shows that 1 out of 4 (12 out of 50) scholars responded to the paper; regarding the review of the value-base of social anthropology, 1 out of 12 respondents disagreed; regarding what is to be done, 1 out of 6 disagreed on methodological, 1 out of 4 on conceptual, and 1 out of 6 on both grounds; 1 out of 3 fully agreed with the content of the paper, although 1 out of 4 among them doubted the possibility of its practical use. There is no comment from the socialist world; 7 responses are from Western scholars and 5 from the Third World. Furthermore, while all the Western scholars disagreed with one part of the paper or another, 4 out of 5 of the Third World scholars agreed with it.

The analysis leads to two sets of deductions: (1) The response from world scholars to the topic of "the value-base of social anthropology" is small; moreover, this is most marked for socialist-world scholars, next for Third World scholars, and least for the Western-world scholars. (2) While there is little disagreement as to what has been done so far in social anthropology, there is substantial disagreement on the conceptual and/or methodological aspects of what is to be done; here, Third World scholars (except one) are uncritical and Western ones critical.

What may be the validity and relevance of these deductions? The deduction made under (1) on the basis of the response figures of 7, 5, and 0 for Western, Third, and socialist world scholars would be valid if the 50 scholars to whom the paper was sent were equally divided among these three world sectors. If the base figures varied, with Western the largest, Third World next, and socialist world the smallest (which is not at all unlikely), then the deduction as to the relative concern of Western and Third World scholars with the value-base of social anthropology would have to be reversed and the relative concern of socialist-world scholars duly ascertained. It may be argued, however, that we would still be in the realm of deduction, since the base figures for further analysis are available in the CA office. Like the primary deduction, however, the secondary one would be based on the assumption that for each of the three world sectors a lack of response reflects "personal" motivation; no other assumption may be considered. Would that conform to reality? May not other constraints, technical or societal in nature, operate differentially for the societies in favour of non-response? Also, is it not possible that non-response on personal grounds may reflect differential value-loads-for example, (a) a partisan devotion to a value- load (old or new) which forbids any discussion of the value question, (b) a hesitant adherence to the value-base questioned in the paper, (c) a "neutral" position vis-a-vis the value- controversy, with or without growing interest in the assumed "value-free" conceptual and methodological issues in social anthropology, and so on?

Such an approach to the appraisal of reality as "the resultant of these many wills operating in different directions and of their manifold effects upon the outer world that constitutes history" (Engels, as quoted in the paper) generates several propositions which may be formulated as alternate hypotheses in homologous and analogous sets. Afterwards, tests to ascertain the relative relevance of the propositions (or any others derived by combining some of them) would not only lead us to a better understanding of the facet of reality in question, but also predict what we might expect in the immediate future in the light of the differential probability of the substantiating power of the propositions. For example: Would value papers in CA




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY draw more or less response than method papers (e.g., Mukherjee 1972b)? Would the responses to value papers become more and more polarized, or would the controversy become marginal because of consensus reached or interest lost in the issue? Would the controversy involve Third World and/or socialist-world scholars more or less over time-considering the papers of Maquet (1964), Berreman, Gjessing, and Gough (1968), etc.- and why might such differences be expected to occur?

Such queries, inherent in critical studies on contemporary societies, suggest that all conscientious scholars are concerned with the question "What will it be?" The point is how precisely we can make the prediction for which the differential probability of occurrence of the possibilities revealed by the investigation is the cue: it must not be overgeneralized or based merely on subjective inclination. Gough has no reason to be pessimistic about the outcome of the course of rigorous research which her own studies indicate. Moreover, with reference to her mention of Marx and Engels's long-range prediction of the overthrow of the capitalist system, may I point out that Lenin's prediction on imperialism was a middle-range one and his Development of Capitalism in Russia (1899) and Marcuse's prediction as to the current role of the nonconformist young intelligentsia vis-a-vis the industrial working class (mentioned in the paper) both short-range?

In any case, the "why" question above leads us to consider the validity and relevance of the deduction under (2), in which the distinction between Western and Third World respondents must be based on the assumption that they are all equally exposed to the whole gamut of social science knowledge and world view. This assumption would support the viewpoint of the British social anthropologist mentioned by Gjessing that, like myself, Third World anthropologists are "good," but their theoretical outlook is "rather simple and unsophisticated." May there not, however, be other propositions to account for the difference-for example, that Third World respondents are participants in (and not mere observers of) an aspect of reality in which (a) the deductive-positivistic orientation, displayed in various manners, has failed to deliver the goods over a quarter of a century and has thereby caused such misery to the people as cannot be "theoretically" appreciated by Western scholars, and (b) the value-accommodator approach does not threaten them because it is opposed to the deductive- positivistic and conducive to the inductive-inferential orientation? This proposition acquires relevance for testing through a set of alternate hypotheses in that it is underlined in Gjessing's comment, forcefully mentioned by Gough, implied in Saber- wal's rejection of the "trajectory of 'reality' . . . charted along a single curve," and made explicit by Albo, Okojie, and Paddayya; i.e., it has been noted by 1 out of 2 respondents.

To answer pertinent questions like those above requires an inductive-inferential base; we must consider the comments and the commentators for various papers as random samples drawn from the universe of scholars whose place and object coordinates are fixed (as "the world" and "social anthropology") and whose time coordinate is allowed to vary, with the null hypothesis that no scholar and no world sector is concerned with the topic of the papers. The deductive-positivistic orientation would not be effective in this context, because it can only deal with one proposition (alternate hypothesis) at a time, and therefore any statement on the relative power to reveal reality of different propositions would be a matter of assertion (A la Rostow and the Project Camelot sponsors, as cited by von Gizycki, or anyone else) and not of testing the nature and degree of their efficiency.

The inductive-inferential orientation will, no doubt, be concerned with many alternate hypotheses which it will not be easy to deal with, as Wilson has rightly pointed out. Never- theless, the hypotheses can be formulated in homologous and analogous sets and tested sequentially, as I have indicated

above. I have done this (1971b, 1976) with 14 hypotheses formulated on theoretical and empirical grounds to ascertain that the joint family system in India is not disintegrating, but operating at distinctive cut-off points of the collateral ramifica- tions of joint family structures, although it can be deduced from data referring to a given point in time (e.g., the 1950s and 1960) that 55% or more of Indian families, on the average, are nuclear.

Also, contrary to Gjessing's and Gough's apprehension and von Gizycki's assertion, a course of research designed on an inductive-inferential base would not undermine or artificially (and undialectically) set apart the function of deductive reasoning. Instead, the interaction between inductive and deductive processes in unfolding reality in the course of diagnostic research would operate "in terms of complementarities" (Gjessing) and facilitate the emergence of objectivity "from the clash of differing views and some synthesis between them" (Wilson). It would thus attain a degree of efficiency which is denied to explanatory research, since it is based on the deductive-positivistic orientation, and is not to be expected of descriptive research. This point, of course, cannot be elaborated in this brief reply; the first sentence of von Gizycki's comment suggests that she appreciates this. In a forthcoming publication entitled "What Will It Be?" I have discussed and illustrated the conceptual and methodological considerations on this point in detail (see also Mukherjee 1973c).

I may also note that, on the basis of the framework for diagnostic research and the accommodation of differential value-loads on the concept of "social development," I have tried to demonstrate the usefulness of my proposal in my Social Indicators (Mukherjee 1975). Indicators (and not indices) are intrinsically concerned with the question "What will it be?" Thus, in reference to the answer to this question, one may (if one wishes) crystallize the question "What should it be?" which is obviously sequential unless one is a doctrinaire or a dogmatist. It will be seen from the method and the programme evolved and illustrated in this monograph and the manner in which the indicators are shown to be constructed that the inseparably linked inductive-inferential orientation and value- accommodator approach do not introduce any constraint in the course of unfolding reality on the grounds of value and fact (Ferreira), "perception and prejudice" (von Gizycki), or any other such controversy now fashionable with some Western social scientists. They also do not place the researcher on an ethereal plane vis-a-vis the social phenomena (von Gizycki, Panoff) or establish a new dogma (Jones). Instead, the organization of research outlined in the book substantiates how the ever changing nature of societal phenomena can be brought under an objective and efficient course of analysis which still remains flexible enough to permit us "continually to reinspect our perceptions of that reality" (Jones). Hence, as Gough and all the rest of us would like-but with certainty, by testing the empirical validity and order of efficiency of the respective "perceptions"-the procedure can reject in a totally value-free manner, certain value-loads because they have no relevance to the social reality, assign orders of relevance to other value-loads, and thus point to the most efficient one among them. Von Gizycki's proposal of the "value-reflection of critical anthropology" will not produce this effect if she remains an untested value-acceptor. This prompts us to examine why social anthropologists must be value-accommodators if they are to justify their role in society.

Let us proceed, in this context, with the appraisal of the simple profile of reality previously considered to elicit further how it may unfold important aspects of the value-base of social anthropology. Over time, there appears to have been a shift in the understanding of reality by social anthropologists.

Vol. 17 * No. I * March 1976 91



According to my a priori knowledge (which I believe will be shared by Gjessing and Gough, if not by all the respondents), had the present paper been written around 1950 it would have found agreement on the topics of "Illusion and Reality" and "Dogmas and Doctrines" from less than 1 in 12 respondents and surely not, as currently, from 11 in 12. Also, the point raised by Mandelbaum would hardly be the cause of disagreement: the rebuffs I used to receive in the 1940s and 1950s were directed by "impartial" scientists towards a "politically" motivated zealot. Moreover, the probability of its publication in a reputable journal like CA would have been very low indeed, as I am well aware from the gestation period of my publications, including straightforward "village studies" (1957, 1971a: Preface).

These constraints are more and more being removed; at least, that might be a relevant alternate hypothesis to be tested by one interested in a depth study of the value-base of social anthropology. If the validity of the hypothesis should be upheld by testing (which is very likely), other alternate hypotheses should be formulated in sequence, because only 1 out of 4 anthropologists from the sample responded to this value paper. To formulate these hypotheses, we have to ask ourselves the crucial question (also raised by Jones, but to counter my proposal), To what extent is the shift in the understanding of reality by social anthropologists due to knowledge they have produced and to what extent to social processes in which they have played no role as anthropologists?

To be sure, studies in what von Gizycki labels "critical anthropology" and "action research" have not been totally lacking in past years; but they have been rare, have encountered great difficulty in being published (if at all), and have made little impact on the general run of anthropological studies. Otherwise, the first two parts of my paper would not have received agreement from 11 in 12 respondents. May I therefore suggest that contradiction, stratification, etc., are now drawing the attention of social anthropologists who were previously content with the "harmonious" and "homogeneous" characterization of "tribal" and "peasant" societies because history has made these societal phenomena all too obvious? May I also suggest that while, as Engels said, "men make their own history," this has been accomplished virtually without the aid of anthropological research-although some anthropologists, in their other role in society, have contributed to it?

The testing and verification of the alternate hypotheses to be formulated in relation to the above questions will generate further questions whose elements are evident and have been mentioned, albeit cursorily, in the paper. They follow from the schematic relation between appraisal and action-appraisal preceding action, and the latter being succeeded by the former at a higher level of comprehension of reality. If, however, there is any tendency to perpetuate an action irrespective of its continual reappraisal in subsequent or other place-time-object dimensions, then dogmas and doctrines are produced and thrive under the guise of value-acceptance or value-neutrality (to mask value-acceptance). On the other hand, appraisal in each and every place-time-object dimension demands the accommodation of all values in the given context so as to assess their relative relevance and efficiency and, thus, determine unequivocally what kind of action is needed. Let us examine this point in terms of three schematically different place-time- object dimensions in contemporary history.

1. Where "history" has been made rather recently and the action accomplished has not yet been consolidated, the questions "What will it be?" and "What should it be?" will appear to be irrelevant, since the dominant value-load will assert that answer has been obtained to both questions. In this context, value-acceptance will play the key role and may consider value-accommodation "revisionism."~

2. Where "history" is being made, the questions "What will

it be?" and "What should it be?" are equated in the blueprint of ongoing action, and therefore value-acceptance plays the crucial role. In this context, value-accommodation is apparently pernicious, as it must be from the perspective of actively contending with the forms of value-acceptance which operate to reinforce colonialism or capitalism or establish socialism in any manner other than the one pursued.

3. Where "history" was made a long time ago and the system has been consolidated, or where there has not been a fundamental break with the previously operating system, tolerance can prevail up to a point, depending on the strength of the consolidation, for the consideration of the questions "What will it be?" and "What should it be?" Here also, however, value-acceptance does little to disseminate knowledge, whether as a prelude to action or not. Within the allotted range of tolerance, different forms of value-acceptance represent one or another "point of view," and it is left to other societal forces to persuade one to accept one or the other.

On the other hand, we notice all the time that differential value-loads are accommodated to comprehend reality precisely and unequivocally in the current state of knowledge. Even in the first two situations just described, history has repeatedly registered dissension on the questions "What will it be?" and "What should it be?" The supremacy of one of the value-loads over the others may have been exclusively action-involved on the basis of a dogma or doctrine, and thus beyond the pale of "knowledge." Alternatively, a synthesis may have been reached by passing through a phase of antithesis in which the different value-loads have been considered according to their relative merits to reveal the current and the immediate future perspective of reality. Action may have followed the appraisal to enforce the most efficient value-load; however, evidence of arriving at a synthesis in this manner is not wanting at present from the socialist world. Would I not be justified in saying that in the post-Stalin era this is usually regarded as a revival of "democratic centralism"?

Hence, where the place-time-object situation is regarded to be in the phase of appraisal primarily, with action to become primary in due course (as it is in the "free" world, according to the majority of "committed" anthropologists), critical anthropology, action research, etc., will have a substantial role to play, but it will be necessary to accommodate them along with the other kinds of anthropology in order to vindicate through testing and verification their greater efficiency for revealing reality. Mere "reflection" of their values will not be enough to convince the large mass of "neutral" social anthropologists, since they will observe that some facets of reality are very well revealed by the other kinds of anthropology. We must bearin mind in this context that, although not as strong as before, the value-loads of these other kinds of anthropology are still heavier in balance; otherwise 3 out of 4 anthropologists would not have failed to respond to my paper (assuming, of all the possibilities enumerated earlier, that most of those to whom the paper was sent belong to the "free" world and only a few of them [if any] reflect an unalterable value-load). It follows that either the scale will tip, as before, purely (or essentially) because of the non-anthropologist forces in history, or the "committed" anthropologists will have to begin their "praxis" at home, i.e., with their fellow anthropologists, in order to muster strength for the eventual action.

Since the responses to my paper are entirely from the "free" world, we may now briefly examine the point of praxis vis-a-vis the "neutral" and the anti-praxis, but hesitantly value-laden, social anthropologists. This requires essentially proving "what it is" and "what it is not," and so on, with the positive and negative alternatives of "how" and "why" of the facets of reality in question, but not in a void, as von Gizycki suspects. Many possibilities are "factually" evident today to persuade social anthropologists to form an inadequate or a distorted view of




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY reality or desist from the attempt. We may examine two of them with reference to Mandelbaum's, Ferreira's, and, incidentally, von Gizycki's comments on the paper.

Mandelbaum has raised a point of clarification regarding contradiction, which is inseparable from the phenomena of stratification, inequality, etc., and, as noted earlier, has lately attracted the attention of social anthropologists. Since society is ever changing, frictions (contradictions) are inherent in it and lead to the emergence, dissolution, and new formation of various kinds of strata and the subsequent sets of contradictions. Granted that this is now obvious, is it not equally obvious that not every form of contradiction and stratification can be of the same relevance and power for social change? Axiomatically, one can argue that if this were so, society would be a random phenomenon and denote either casual fluctuations or change in an indiscriminate and incomprehensible manner. According- ly, social phenomena would not be amenable to the spiral-like circuits of a priori comprehension, observation, analysis, deduction, inference, interpretation, and comprehension at a higher level; i.e., the entire scientific process of accumulation of knowledge would be precluded. Therefore, unless one finds solace in Sankara's mdydbad (mentioned in the paper) or a similar philosophy of inaction, one must consider that there is a prime mover (or a set of prime movers) in the change process.

The empiricists I have alluded to in the paper may not deny, in theory, the axiom and its logical postulate of a prime mover, but what has been their practice? They may take the view that since what the prime mover(s) is (are) has not yet been fully tested and verified, it (they) must be sought by means of empirical investigations in the specified place-time-object dimensions. Characteristically, however, the search seldom takes into account one of the major expositions of the prime mover-class contradiction and the role of class as propounded by Marx and Engels. They may be mentioned incidentally while dealing elaborately with various other kinds of stratification and contradiction, as Mandelbaum has done in his Society in India. Alternatively or concurrently, as is also done by Mandelbaum, there may be an attempt to distort the kind of stratification denoted by class and, in consequence, the form of contradiction in view. Marx precisely defined class in terms of the relations of production, the state of productive forces, and the property relations emerging on that basis. More often than not, however, this concept is diffused into that of "social class" (a la Weber or not) or diluted as an assorted set of occupational or status groups.

Moreover, there are propositions about the prime mover ranging from the material basis of society, at one pole, to the spiritual basis of society, at the other (with the other landmarks of social existence, social consciousness, etc.), but there are very few anthropological studies in which these propositions are turned into appropriate sets of alternate hypotheses to ascertain their relative merits. Instead, while a minority of the social anthropologists today upholds the proposition of historical and dialectical materialism, the majority indulges in an amorphous acceptance of the spiritual, existential, and "con- scious" basis of society. This certainly provides scope for freedom of thought in a society of "free enterprise," but is it what praxis should amount to?

In India, we have the exposition of contradictions and stratifications from either standpoint, but seldom a rigorous attempt to accommodate the various expositions for the testing and verification of their relative power to reveal reality. We have, for example, Mandelbaum's Society in India, which deals almost exclusively with the rural sector (p. 9) and totally ignores any Marxist analysis and interpretation of social dynamics; and, complementarily, we have Desai's Rural Sociology in India (1969), which contains several Marxist studies by Desai and others. Mandelbaum concludes (p. 634) that "the general trend [of major changes in Indian society]

is toward the narrowing in cultural disparities and in social distance between groups in a society, though scarcely toward any total elimination of stratification," while Desai contends (p. 5) that "the science of the laws governing the specific Indian rural social organism has still to be created [which will comprise] the basic premises for the renovation of the Indian rural society, so indispensable for the renovation of the Indian society as a whole." The "neutral" social anthropologists in between are left to choose one or the other viewpoint under the influence of history rather than that of a systematic evaluation of the Marxist, anti-Marxist, and non-Marxist comprehensions of Indian social reality on the basis of an inductive-inferential orientation and the value-accommodation approach.

Also, any attempt at thus bridging the gulf between theory and research is forestalled by another emergent group among Western scholars, with which Ferreira aligns himself in declar- ing that "value judgments . . . cannot be derived from judgments of fact." Ferreira, of course, contradicts himself when he holds this view and, at the same time, considers my paper "instructive insofar as [it] seeks to unveil the reality-distorting nature of the value orientations of social anthropologists in India." In any case, his sophism over "the gymnosophist and the gymnast" is not, in reality, confined to India or social anthropology (or social science in general); it is appropriate to the world as a whole and the total gamut of scientific investigation, like von Gizycki's mention of "perception and prejudice." These are the constraints within which every branch of science operates, and therefore, as I mentioned in the paper, knowledge can at best form an asymptotic relation with reality: the two can never attain identity except in Buddha's concept of nirvana.

Knowledge is nevertheless accumulated through all scientific disciplines all over the world because every phenomenon has a built-in tolerance for the margin of error in its perception and operation. As a result, perceptual bias, which is no less relevant "theoretically" even to the unanimously accepted quantitative understanding of reality, becomes practically irrelevant: for example, in engineering, no two persons will measure one centimeter exactly alike, and yet the blueprint of a complex structure can be replicated. Also (to consider an instance of von Gizycki's "psychological problems" in reference to analytical psychology), no two retinas will appreciate "red" with the same intensity (nor will the same retina at different time-points), and yet "red" has enough objectivity in people's eyes and minds, except for the microscopic minority of those who are colour- blind, that it can be used for traffic control in a crowded street. Of course, one may reasonably argue that the margin of error in our perception of societal phenomena is relatively large, and that is why we often encounter so many perspectives on the same facet of reality. One must also realize, however, that this is why we require an appropriate conceptual and methodological framework for reducing perceptual bias, bearing in mind that it can never be totally removed. Otherwise science cannot proceed.

In the same way, the question before the scientist is not whether he is "value-free," but how he can best operate to reduce the role of his values in trying to appraise reality objectively. One may take the position that this is impossible, as Ferreira has done, but in that case one cannot proceed with any scientific investigation. Stating that fact and value are two dimensions of reality is sophism: can there be any fact without a value-load (or a set of homologous value-loads), and vice versa? The suggested choice "between positivism and some form of objective axiology" will, therefore, logically turn the scientist into a dogmatist and doctrinaire. Correspondingly, von Gizycki's "value-reflection" or anyone else's value- acceptance would constitute self-deception as to one's objectivity.

Vol. 17 * No. 1 * March 1976



More important in this context is to consider why these questions of value, perception, etc., are loudly voiced by an influential section of Western scholars today. One hypothesis might be that social anthropology has attained a stage of maturity that permits it to grapple with such finer issues, perennial as they have been and sporadically considered by some progenitors of the discipline. But there might also be another hypothesis: that a value-load of inaction is thus being propagated now that the discipline is capable of confronting reality in a concerted way. This hypothesis gathers support if we consider that not even the physical sciences have escaped this confrontation (see, e.g., Bernal 1939, Caudwell 1939). Also, history tells us that "social" considerations have repeatedly participated in such confrontations in the pregnant periods of social transformation. Ferreira need not have invoked the West to support his standpoint. India abounds in examples, from the time before Sankara to, say, the period in which nabyanaya (lit. "new logic"), at one time fighting Buddhism, became engaged in such esoteric discussions as the relative importance of form and content (pdtradhdrataila vs. tailadhara- patra) and the nuances of motion and perception, cause and effect, and so on.

A situation conducive to the value of inaction is also notice- able today in relation to science per se, and, significantly, in the Western world in particular. At one pole, science and technology are greeted with buoyant optimism for their revolutionary content (especially in the socialist world); at the other, pessimism prevails, as in the "limits to growth" of the Club of Rome, M.I.T., et al. Between the two extreme value-loads, however, there are other value-loads which call for the value- accommodation approach in order to deal with them on an inductive-inferential base and thus appraise reality precisely for the benefit of mankind. For example, while Touraine speaks of a "multiplicity of paths of development" and the role of science and technology "in harmony or in discord" with different forms of social organization, Singh points out that the "universal evolutionary model [of scientific and technological development] suffers from the fallacy of over-abstraction which, in operational terms, lays down 'the thesis of superiority of power' by means of concepts like 'centre and periphery,' " and Tsurumi asserts that "modern science and technology would be useful from the point of view of human survival, if and only if they are redirected by 'ethno-sciences' and 'ethno- technologies' which are the pre-industrial legacies of various peoples" (Mukherjee and Richta 1976).

Whatever aspect of contemporary reality we examine, in whatever world sector or in the universe as a whole, we come across a series of value-loads which may be systematized (although not standardized in most cases) as ranging from the null point of inaction to action in various analogous (or homologous) manners and directions. In this situation, our task cannot but be to appraise reality on the basis of an inductive-inferential orientation and the complementary value- accommodation approach. If we accept this proposal, however, we may have to extend the scope of differential value-loads beyond inaction to negative action, the logical outcome of any kind of dogma or doctrine which is value-acceptance par excellence and flourishes on a deductive-positivistic base. This is how I read Saberwal's gloomy prognosis regarding the applicability of my proposal.

References Cited

BAILEY, F. G. 1958. Caste and the economicfrontier. Bombay: Oxford University Press.

. 1960. Tribe, caste, and nation. Manchester: Manchester University Press.

BAUER, R. A. 1966. "Detection and anticipation of impact: The nature of the task," in Social indicators. Edited by R. A. Bauer, pp. 1-67. Cambridge: M.I.T. Press.

BENDIX, R. 1964. Nation-building and citizenship. New York: Wiley. BERNAL,J. D. 1939. The socialfunction of science. London: Routledge. BERREMAN, G. D., G. GJESSING, and K. GOUGH. 1968. Social

responsibilities symposium. CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY 9:391-435. BLACK, C. E. 1966. The dynamics of modernization. New York:

Harper and Row. BLALOCK, H. M., JR. 1961. Causal inferences in nonexperimental

research. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. BLANKESTEN, G. I. 1965. "Modernization and revolution in Latin

America," in Social change in developing areas. Edited by H. R. Barrington, G. I. Blankesten, and R. W. Mack, pp. 225-42. Cambridge: Schenkman.

BOAS, F. 1940. Race, language, and culture. New York: Macmillan. BOSE, N. K., and S. SINHA. 1961. Peasant life in India: A study in

unity and diversity. Calcutta: Anthropological Survey of India. CAUDWELL, C. 1939. The crisis in physics. London: Bodley Head. CLARK, KENNETH B. 1974. Pathos of power. New York/Evanston/

San Francisco/London: Harper Torchbook. [DJJ] CLEMMER, RICHARD 0. 1974. "Truth, duty, and the revitalization

of anthropologists: A new perspective on cultural change and resistance," in Reinventing anthropology. Edited by Dell Hymes, pp. 213-47. New York: Random House.

DANDEKAR, V. M., and N. RATH. 1971. Poverty in India. Poona: Indian School of Political Economy.

DESAI, A. R. 1969. Rural sociology in India. Bombay: Popular Prakashan.

DREWNOWSKI, J. 1967. "Indicators of social development: Some suggestions for measuring social variables," in Social change and economic growth, pp. 120-34. Paris: Development Centre of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development.

.1972. Social indicators and welfare measurement: Remarks on methodology. Jfournal of Development Studies 8(3):77-90.

ECAFE (ECONOMIC COMMISSION FOR ASIA AND THE FAR EAST). 1973. Mass poverty study. MS. Bangkok: Social Development Division.

EISENSTADT, S. N., and S. ROKKAN. Editors. 1973. Building states and nations. 2 vols. Berkeley: Sage.

ELIAS, N. 1964. "Report on the discussion [on The break with traditionalism]." Transactions of the Fifth World Congress of Sociology, vol. 3, pp. 51-53. Louvain: International Sociological Association.

ELLWOOD, C. A. 1958. "Social tradition," in Dictionary of sociology. Edited by H. P. Fairchild, pp. 294-95. London: Vision Press.

EMMANUEL, A. 1972. Unequal exchange. New York and London: Monthly Review Press.

ENGELS, F. 1948. The origin of the family, private property, and the state. Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House.

. 1951. Karl Marx and Frederick Engels: Selected works in two volumes. Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House.

. 1970. Karl Marx and Frederick Engels: Selected works in three volumes. Vol. 3. Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House.

EPSTEIN, T. S. 1962. Economic development and social change in South India. Bombay: Oxford University Press.

EVANS-PRITCHARD, E. E. 1951. Social anthropology. London: Cohen and West. [GG]

FANON, F. 1968. Les damne's de la terre. Paris: Maspero. (First published in 1961.) EMP]

FRIEDMAN, JONATHAN. 1974. Marxism, structuralism, and vulgar materialism. Man 9:444-69. [DGM]

GJEssING, G. 1954. Changing Lapps. London School of Economics and Political Science Monograph on Social Anthropology 13.

. 1968. Complementarity, value, and socio-cultural field. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. [GG]

GROSS, B. M. 1966. "The state and the nation: Social systems accounting," in Social indicators. Edited by R. A. Bauer, pp. 154-271. Cambridge: M.I.T. Press.

HABERMAS, JURGEN. 1965. "Analytische Wissenschaftstheorie und Dialektik," in Logik der Sozialwissenschaften. Edited by E. Topitsch, pp. 291-310. Koln: Kiepenheuer und Witsch. [RG]

. 1971. "Erkenntnis und Interesse," in Technik und Wissen- schaft als Ideologie, pp. 146-68. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp. [RG]

HALL, J. 1949. "Some notes on the economic development of Uganda," foreword to A development plan for Uganda, by E. B. Worthington. Entebbe: Government of the Uganda Protectorate.

HUQUE, M. A. 1939. The man behind the plough. Calcutta: The Book Company.

HUXLEY, E. 1948. The sorceror's apprentice: A journey through East Africa. London: Chatto and Windus.

INDIAN STATUTORY COMMISSION. 1930. The report. Vol. 1. London: His Majesty's Stationery Office.

KUMARAPPA, J. C. 1931. An economic survey of Matar Taluka. Ahmedabad.

.1948. Economy of permanence. Wardha: All-India Village Industries Association.

.1951. Gandhian economic thought. Bombay: Vora.




Mukherjee: VALUE-BASE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY . 1952. The Gandhian way of life. Wardha: All-India Village Industries Association.

LAND REVENUE COMMISSION OF BENGAL. 1940. Report. Vol. 1. Calcutta: Bengal Government Press.

LENIN, V. I. 1899. Development of capitalism in Russia. Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House.

. 1946. What the "friends of the people" are and how they fight the social-democrats. Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House.

LEWIS, 0. 1951. Life in a Mexican village: Tepoztlan restudied. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

LOWIE, R. H. 1950. Social organization. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.

McEWEN, WILLIAM. 1963. The problem of social-scientific knowledge. Princeton, N.J.: Bedminster Press. [DJJ]

McGRANAHAN, D. V. 1969. Research notes. Geneva: United Nations Research Institute for Social Development.

MAGUBANE, BERNARD. 1971. A critical look at the indices used in the study of social change in Africa. CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY 12:419-45. [RG]

MAHALANOBIS, P. C. 1955. "Draft recommendations for the formulation of the Second Five-Year Plan 1956-1961," in Papers relating to the formulation of the Second Five-rear Plan, pp. 35-69. New Delhi: Government of India.

MAIR, L. P. 1934. An African people in the twentieth century. London: Routledge.

MALINOWSKI, B. 1945.- The dynamics of culture change. New Haven: Yale University Press.

MANDELBAUM, D. G. 1970. Society in India. 1. Continuity and change. 2. Change and continuity. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.

MAO TSE-TUNG. 1952. On contradiction. Peking: Foreign Languages Press.

MAQUET, J. 1964. Objectivity in anthropology. CURRENT ANTHRO- POLOGY 5:47-55. [GG]

MARCUSE, H. 1969. An essay on liberation. London: Allen Lane Penguin Press.

MARRIOTT, M. Editor. 1955. Village India: Studies in the little community. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

MARX, K. 1942. The German ideology. London: Lawrence and Wishart.

. 1964. Pre-capitalist economic formations. London: Lawrence and Wishart.

MOORE, W. E. 1967. Order and change. New York: Wiley. MOTWANI, K. 1958. Manu dharma sastra: A sociological and historical

study. Madras: Ganesh. MSHVENIERADZE, V. V. 1964. "Objective foundations of the

development of society: Critical study of some sociological theories." Transactions of the Fifth World Congress of Sociology, vol. 3, pp. 33-37. Louvain: International Sociological As- sociation.

MUKERJI, D. P. 1961. Widowhood and niyoga in the Arthasastra and Manusmrti. Our Heritage (Calcutta) 11:1-11.

MUKHERJEE, R. 1956. The problem of Uganda: A study in acculturation. Berlin: Akademie.

1957. The dynamics of a rural society. Berlin: Akademie; Bombay: Popular Prakashan.

. 1961a. A note on village as unit or variable for studies of rural society. Eastern Anthropologist (Lucknow) 14(1):3-29.

. 1961b. "Caste and economic structure in West Bengal in present times," in Sociology, social research, and social problems in India. Edited by R. N. Saksena, pp. 157-67. Bombay: Asia Publishing House.

. 1965. The sociologist and social change in India today. New Delhi: Prentice-Hall of India.

. 1968. Comment on: Is anthropology alive? Social responsibility in social anthropology, by Gerald D. Berreman. CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY 9:421-22.

1971a. Six villages of Bengal. Bombay: Popular Prakashan. 1971b. Family in India: A perspective. Perspective (supple-

ment to Indian Journal of Public Administration) 17(4):41-107. 1972a. "Nation-building and state formation in Bangla-

desh," in Pakistan political system in crisis: Emergence of Bangladesh. Edited by S. P. Varma and V. Narain, pp. 137-62. Jaipur: South Asia Studies Centre, University of Rajasthan.

. 1972b. Concepts and methods for the secondary analysis of variations in family structure. CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY 13:417- 43.

. 1973a. The rise andfall of the East India Company. Bombay: Popular Prakashan; New York: Monthly Review Press.

* 1973b. Indian sociology: Historical development and present problems. Sociological Bulletin (Delhi) 22(1) :29-58.

. 1973c. On the mode of social research. Indian Jfournal of Sociology 3 (1-2):55-68.

. 1974. "Systematization of value-load of social development," in Sociology and social development in Asia. Tokyo: Tokyo University Press.

1975. Social indicators. Delhi: Macmillan. 1976. West Bengal family structures: 1946-1966. Delhi:

Macmillan. MUKHERJEE, R., and R. RICHTA. Editors. 1976. The scientific and

technological revolution: Social aspects. London and Berkeley: Sage. In press.

MYRDAL, G. 1968. Asian drama. 3 vols. London: Allen Lane Penguin Press.

. 1971. The challenge of world poverty. London: Penguin International.

NETTL, J. P., and R. ROBERTSON. 1968. International systems and the modernization of societies. London: Faber and Faber.

NIZAN, P. 1960. Les chiens de garde. Paris: Maspero. (First published in 1932.) [MP]

OBERG, K. 1950. "The kingdom of Ankole in Uganda," in African political systems. Edited by M. Fortes and E. E. Evans-Pritchard, pp. 121-62. London: Oxford University Press.

PANOFF, M. 1968a. L'ethnologue et l'action. Les Temps Moderne 263:1754-78. [MP]

.1968b. L'ethnologue et son ombre. Paris: Payot. [MP] PLANNING COMMISSION. 1973. "Memorandum by a panel of

economists," in Papers relating to the formulation of the Second Five-rear Plan. New Delhi: Government of India.

POLONSKAYA, L. P. 1973. The traditional forms of outlook in the ideological situation in Third World countries. Moscow: "Nauka" (Central Department of Oriental Literature).

RADIN, M. 1948. "Tradition," in Encyclopaedia of the social sciences. Edited by E. R. A. Seligman, vol. 15, pp. 62-67. London: Macmillan.

RIBEIRO, DARCY. 1971. Der Zivilisatorische Prozess. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp. [RG]

ROSTOW, W. W. 1962. The stages of economic growth: A non-communist manifesto. Cambridge: University Press.

ROYAL COMMISSION ON AGRICULTURE IN INDIA. 1928. Report. Bombay: Government Central Press.

RUDOLPH, L. I., and S. H. RUDOLPH. 1967. The modernity of tradition: Political development in India. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

SAMPSON, R. V. 1965. "Tradition," in A dictionary of the social sciences. Edited by J. Gould and W. L. Kolb, pp. 723-24. New York: Free Press.

SCHLESIER, KARL H. 1974. Action anthropology and the Southern Cheyenne. CURRENT ANTHROPOLOGY 12:419-45. [RG]

SEERS, D. 1972. What are we trying to measure? Jfournal of Develop- ment Studies 8(3):21-36.

SHAH, A. B., and C. R. M. RAO. 1965. Tradition and modernity in India. Bombay: Manaktalas.

SHILS, E. 1962. Political development in the new states. The Hague: Mouton.

SHUKLA, J. B. 1937. Life and labour in a Gujarat taluka (Olpad). Bombay University Economic Series 10.

SINGH, YOGENDRA. 1973. Modernization of Indian tradition. Delhi: Thomson.

SOCIALIST PARTY OF INDIA. 1972. Platform of the Socialist Party. New Delhi.

WEBB, SIDNEY, and BEATRICE WEBB. 1932. Methods of social study. London, New York: Longmans, Green. [MW]

WEINER, M. 1966. "Preface," in Modernization: The dynamics of growth. Edited by MI. Weiner. New York: Basic Books.

WILSON, G., and M. WILSON. 1945. The analysis of social change. Cambridge: University Press.

WINICK, C. 1957. Dictionary of anthropology. London: Peter Owen.

Vol. 17 * No. 1 * March 1976 95



Documents

Value Base of Social Anthropology