Do "Language Rights" Serve Indigenous Interests? Some Hopi and Other QueriesAuthor(s): Peter WhiteleyReviewed work(s):Source: American Anthropologist, New Series, Vol. 105, No. 4, Special Issue: Language Politicsand Practices (Dec., 2003), pp. 712-722Published by: Blackwell Publishing on behalf of the American Anthropological AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3567136 .Accessed: 22/02/2012 21:22

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 support@jstor.org.

Blackwell Publishing and American Anthropological Association are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize,preserve and extend access to American Anthropologist.

http://www.jstor.org

PETER WHITELEY

Do "Language Rights" Serve Indigenous Interests? Some Hopi and Other Queries

ABSTRACT While valuable, the discourse of language rights neglects language use in cultural, social, and historical contexts. This article examines some implications of that neglect, especially vis-a-vis small-scale, indigenous, "oral" societies. Drawing principally on Hopi examples, I argue that language rights discourse rests on a reflexivization of language and culture enhanced by globalism. Now reified, language becomes an allegory of ethnic identity. Preexisting sociolinguistic sensibilities get repositioned, for example, in Native Ameri- can communities in which language has hitherto been deployed as a technique of privacy and sovereignty, language rights ideology is logocentric and presumes a democratic, secular space of language use, conflicting with both privacy and performativity in Native lin- guistic values. And some linguistic usage reinforces social inequality, both transnationally and group-internally: Here, language rights contradict other human rights. Language rights discourse also requires anthropology to rethink its recent antipathy to the culture con- cept and to treat language and culture objectively. [Keywords: language rights, sociolinguistic values, sovereignty, logocentrism, globalism]

Hak~iapiy yaw itam suup lengi'yvayani. The time will come, it is said, when we [humanity in general] will all speak one language.

-Hopi prophecy (recounted by Harry Kewanimptewa, Spider clan, 1984, as heard from his old uncles)

Y ANY EVIDENT STANDARD of sociocultural jus- tice, language rights appear as a definitive good. But

the underlying assumptions are often ethically and politi- cally simplistic and fail to attend to multiplex operations of language in culture and society. In order to assess what exactly is being argued for in promoting language rights of indigenous, subaltern, and minority peoples, some exami- nation of salient social and historical contexts is critical. In this regard, anthropological considerations of culture are especially important.

The discourse of language rights presupposes state domi- nation and is intrinsically counterhegemonic:

Language rights are the rights of individuals and collective linguistic groups to non-interference by the State, or to as- sistance by the State, in the use of their own language, in perpetuating the use of the language and ensuring its future survival, in receiving information and State-provided services in their own language, and in ensuring that their exercise of other lawful rights, particularly fundamental human rights (e.g., the right to vote, the right to a fair trial, the right to receive education, the right to employ- ment), will not be handicapped or subject to discrimina- tion for linguistic reasons. [Chen 1998:49]

This discourse thus counterposes subaltern groups, often in internally undifferentiated blocs, against the domi- nant state power (cf. Rassool 1998). Its primary frame of reference is nation-state and global politics. Especially in indigenous, nonliterate communities, superimposing that frame may radically reposition local sociolinguistic sensibilities (cf. Hamel 1997). Promoting and defending the right to speak, write, be taught in, or officially express value in a language entails, a priori, that that language and the culture within which it is located first undergo reflexivization. By this I mean a process in which an ex- plicit consciousness of self and community intrudes into daily life such that people become aware of their shared practices, ideas, and forms of life not only as in- trinsic to what they are, believe, and do but also as per- ceptible from a bird's-eye, "global" view. Once re- flexivized, a language and its culture appear, in important contexts of intercultural negotiation, to be now in a sub- junctive mood: a looking glass that regularly reflects self- and group-identity difference back to its users and transmits that reflected image on an imagined global stage, as well as continuing to perform taken-for-granted communicative and other quotidian functions. And the glass is not crafted by indigenous invention but, rather, is a refraction from the state's panopticon: Counter- hegemonic intent operates according to terms set by the hegemonic center.

AMERICAN ANTHROPOLOGIST 105(4):712-722. COPYRIGHT ? 2003, AMERICAN ANTHROPOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION

Whiteley * "Language Rights" and Hopi Queries 713

To be the object of a right, language and culture thus reflexivized must further be conceived as separable from self and community: The looking glass takes on the form of a possession. Now language and culture are thought of not as inherently constitutive or expressive sui generis of a certain people and their world but, instead, as detachable, portable, to some extent a product or effect put out by a community, even a commodity that may be alienable and circulate in a marketplace. Language rights discourse is thus associated as much with an idea of property rights (as defined in Western law) and the capitalist economy as it is with a discourse of human rights. And that may well con- flict with protectionist interests of small-scale indigenous groups, like many Native Americans, that seek to preserve some sovereignty and resist the appropriation of their cul- tural forms by the market.

A further complication lies in the fact that language rights are predicated on an idea of languages as things in the world: One cannot have a right to something that is not objectively identifiable. The latent positivism and po- tential essentialism in that recognition creates a problem for current anthropological thought. Fear that "culture" in the grounded, located, holistic sense enchains the disci- pline to theory grown cold (in the present infatuation with cultural studies and continental philosophy) impels anthropologists to avoid definitive cultural statements ex- cept the negative: All that is solid melts into air. At the same time, it is anthropologically counterintuitive to op- pose such an ostensible good as language rights for indige- nous peoples (e.g., American Anthropological Association 2000)-if not for the ethical reason alone, then for the needs of science: If languages keep dying out at the pre- sent rate, there will be little left for linguistic anthropolo- gists to study (cf. Corbett 2001; Krauss 1996).1 Caught, as usual, between the academy and the world, anthropology finds itself on the horns of a dilemma: to disavow lan- guage rights as entailing endorsement of a positivist per- spective on language and culture or to embrace them on ethical and pragmatic grounds. The issue of language rights thus presents a pivotal challenge not only for indigenous peoples and the global-local dialectic but also for the very way anthropologists reimagine their project in the present.

In brief, transforming a language into a reflexivized object (for the purposes of language rights) rests on four foundations: (1) a reduced, apolitical concept of culture deriving ultimately from Boasian relativism; (2) the capac- ity for a language to be imagined as both reified and natu- ralized-in other words, the language can now be seen as a thing, an objectifiable form; (3) an ideological privileging of logocentrism that results from the habits of literacy; and (4) a preexisting universalist discourse of human rights attached to an ideology of multiculturalism. With the exception of the second, which may immediately in- cite admonitions against essentialism, reification, and naturalism-that unholy trinity of cardinal anthropologi- cal sins-those foundations may not appear unduly prob- lematic (e.g., Phillipson and Skuttnab-Kangas 1995;

Skuttnab-Kangas and Phillipson 1994, 2000; UNESCO 2002; Varennes 2001). But the often-blithe absence of complica- tion in linguistic rights discourse stems from insufficient attention to the politics of language and culture other than gross state and imperial imposition (cf. Paulston 1997:79; Silverstein 1998:422). Simple reliance on a liberal human-rights rationale neglects key sociolinguistic pat- terns in small-scale, subaltern communities. Language rights and human rights may be mutually contradictory in some contexts. Moreover, language rights discourse be- yond anthropology is primarily oriented to large-scale, lit- erate language minorities, such as French in Canada, Cata- lan in Spain, Spanish in the United States, Punjabi in the United Kingdom, Swedish in Finland, et cetera (cf. Fish- man 1994). In short, the fight for language rights is largely waged by and for those-as a region, ethnic group, etc.- long involved in the arena of nation-state politics at a level recognizable within the state's own terms. Fourth- world peoples-many of whom, as small-scale, nonliterate groups, have a remote relationship to the state-are not the ideological driving force of this discourse.

My primary concern here is to point toward those fur- ther political contexts of language in society and culture, especially vis-a-vis reflexivization and objectification, pri- marily for oral-language communities in which the lan- guage is at risk. My aim is to question the four foundations of language rights discourse, focusing on how they neglect political economies of language use, with examples drawn principally from fieldwork with the Hopi (whose language is known primarily in academic and pedagogic circles for its "timelessness," the exemplar of Whorfian relativism). Where this questioning speaks to some current anthropo- logical thinking on language and culture in general, my argument comments on these considerations.

REFLEXIVITY: CULTURE AND LANGUAGE IN A SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD

Cultural rights are an integral part of human rights, which are universal, indivisible and interdependent. The flour- ishing of creative diversity requires the full implementa- tion of cultural rights as defined in Article 27 of the Uni- versal Declaration of Human Rights and in Articles 13 and 15 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. All persons have therefore the right to express themselves and to create and disseminate their work in the language of their choice, and particularly in their mother tongue; all persons are entitled to quality education and training that fully respect their cultural identity; and all persons have the right to participate in the cultural life of their choice and conduct their own cul- tural practices, subject to respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms. [Article 5, UNESCO Universal Declaration on Cultural Diversity, last update May 19, 2003; cf. UNESCO 2002:9-12]

Through their recent preoccupations with positionality, hybridity, traveling, incommensurability, borders, deterri- torializations, and "writing against," anthropologists have been trying to jettison the very idea of "culture." Culture

714 American Anthropologist * Vol. 105, No. 4 * December 2003

itself is now condemned as reified, naturalized, or essen- tialized. Yet just when anthropology has decided to throw out its sacred core concept, the world (in particular, mi- nority and indigenous groups) has embraced culture both as idea and for its political purchase. As Marshall Sahlins has put it:

The cultural self-consciousness developing among imperi- alism's erstwhile victims is one of the more remarkable phenomena of world history in the later twentieth cen- tury. "Culture"-the word itself, or some local equivalent, is on everyone's lips. Tibetans and Hawaiians, Ojibway, Kwakiutl, and Eskimo, Kazakhs and Mongols, native Aus- tralians, Balinese, Kashmiris, and New Zealand Maori: all discover they have a "culture." For centuries they may have hardly noticed it. But now, as the New Guinean said to the anthropologist, "If we didn't have kastom, we would be just like white men." [1993:3]

In a related vein, Marilyn Strathern (1995) tracks the an- thropological concept of culture through a ubiquitous range of global discursive registers. She identifies a signifi- cant transformation (or "declension") of the concept, es- pecially when "cultural difference"-an idea explicitly as- sociated with anthropology-"provides a new platform for an essentialist sense of identity" (1995:156) and departs from its anthropological rootedness in social relations to become "self-referential and totalising" (1995:165).

Thus diluted and extended, the Boasian culture con- cept has become naturalized in two key places for lan- guage rights discourse: (1) the interstices of global power in which resistance to the nation state is framed in terms of indigenous rights, and, partly in response to that frame; and (2) in intergovernmental discourse on human rights and development. For the latter, UNESCO's Declaration on Cultural Diversity gives a definition of culture quite in keeping with the anthropological tradition:

[Culture is] the whole complex of distinctive spiritual, material, intellectual and emotional features that charac- terize a society or social group. It includes not only the arts and letters, but also modes of life, the fundamental rights of the human being, value systems, traditions and beliefs. [Intergovernmental Conference on Cultural Policies for Development Stockholm 1998, quoted in UNESCO 2002:312

The turn to "culture" as a socially legitimating essence- subject to protection as a human right, at some level resis- tant and impermeable to explanation and, therefore, to domination ("it's my culture, only I can understand it")-has taken on quasi-religious overtones. While not quite as Kroeber envisioned it, culture has become the new secular religion. A reflexive transformation has thus occurred with anthropology's old key concept, growing out of a globalism and a modernity in which brute resis- tance is constrained by one or another form of national or imperial hegemony. A foregrounded, politically oriented discourse of "culture" from below, in this context, is de- ferred resistance, sometimes the only form permissible. Culture has thus taken on a status as allegory, as Smadar Lavie (1990) has convincingly demonstrated for Mzeina

Bedouin identity displays. Now, except for religious fun- damentalists (who, whether in Saudia Arabia or Idaho, are significantly motivated by opposition to the perceived evils of relativism), we have all become like Quesalid (the Kwakwaka'wakw skeptic immortalized by L&vi-Strauss [1963]), only believing the transcendent claims of our cul- ture as metaphor.

In the cultural reflexivization resulting from global- ism, social perspective becomes somewhat decentered: It moves away from a primary locus within the group toward a shifting space among groups-away from the group- internal toward what we might call the interactive. Classic ethnography demonstrated ethnocentrism to be a human universal: Thinking of one's own people as the chosen people, the only true humans, or those who live at the center of the universe, is cross-culturally pervasive. Begin- ning to think of one's group not only in this sense but also as one part (and a small one at that) of a plural world of shared humanity, in which identities are jostled over amid intersecting ethnoscapes and uneven access to resources, involves something of a sea-change in that centered idea of group-identity. Further, the increasing deterritorializa- tion of cultural identities via transnationalism-identities that, nonetheless, remain tied together especially through electronic resources-has rearranged the cultural map (see, e.g., Appadurai 1996; Bhabha 1994; Clifford 1997; Lowe and Lloyd 1998, among others). Anthropologically, the very notion of culture as a terrain-bound system among like systems is now destabilized. No cultures or languages can insulate themselves any longer from global forces: Globalization "has pervaded communication and con- sciousness .... [Hence] any community-internal absolute autonomy of culture-language-identity, definitively no longer exists" (Silverstein 2003). In short, cultures now ap- pear less like billiard balls frozen on a fixed topographic table and more like nebulae, intersecting, expanding, and contracting across space.

To some degree, a reflexive sensibility is inherent in cultural practices, as Victor Turner's studies of ritual show (e.g., Turner 1982). Hopi ritual clown performances, for example, explicitly hold up a mirror to Hopi social, episte- mological, and moral structures and their underlying ra- tionales: The question of what it means to be Hopi is here hypothecated precisely in reflexive terms (cf. Whiteley 1998b). Moreover, historically, plurilingualism (familiar- ity with several languages) has long been part of the expe- rience of many "traditional," oral-language societies. To- gether with dialect differences, often perceived locally as strongly differentiating (e.g., among the four Hopi dia- lects: First Mesa, Musangnuvi, Second Mesa, and Orayvi), plurilingualism or any other experience of language differ- ence necessarily entails some degree of local linguistic re- lativism and a certain corollary reflexivism. Across the globe, was there ever a community, except for the ficti- tious Tasaday, that did not have contact with an Other that spoke a different language or dialect? Was there ever a community not subject to fission and fusion, and that did

Whiteley * "Language Rights" and Hopi Queries 715

not engage in any external material exchange? It seems unlikely. The experience of language difference itself pro- duces a reflexive sense of "our language" as opposed to "yours," even if "you" are scarcely human because you do not know how to speak properly. Such sociolinguistic re- flexivism and its corollary relativism are embedded in the sedimented social and cultural histories of particular groups: a factor largely neglected by strong Whorfism. Un- less, say, Tewa, Tiwa, Towa, Zuni, and Keresan (or Navajo, Western Apache, Havasupai, Paiute, Ute, etc.) are all equally "timeless," translation from and into Hopi must have been rather daunting, especially since 1700 for those First Mesa Hopi-Tewa historically charged with diplomatic translation for Hopi leaders.3 If Whorf (1956) were strictly correct about Hopi, imagine, for example, the confusion of those poor runners in 1680, having trudged a hundred miles from Zuni with their knotted strings to synchronize Hopi participation in the Pueblo Revolt: "In five days time when the cock crows at dawn? Unfortunately, we Hopis can't translate such concepts" (cf. Malotki 1983).

If we may infer that some degree of cultural and lin- guistic relativism is universal, this is sharply heightened with contact and conflict between peoples hitherto un- known to each other. Sudden, severe, extraneous domina- tion may produce reactions-like the Ghost Dance and other redemptive movements-that display an abruptly amplified reflexivity in perhaps its most striking form. But in such reactions, a group's intent is to change the world itself, rather than to recognize its own decentered pres- ence in a pluricultural reality. In the modern sea-change in reflexivization wrought by globalization, cultural self- consciousness expands exponentially and shifts the regis- ter of significance for preexisting cultural performances. This is especially true of the more marked symbolic forms of cultural difference like rituals, dress, and language (cf. Fishman 1994). Such reflexivization of culture and lan- guage, in company with the political desire for recogni- tion, reorients cultural practices as now exemplary in some regard for an ethnonational project. For example, in a Hopi kachina ceremony, the primary ritual intent is to produce rain for the crops; but while the songs remain filled with the imagery of personified clouds bestowing nourishment, growth, and plenty, many of the performers are no longer engaged in subsistence horticulture. As one elder, famous for his acerbic outlook, lamented: "Nowa- days it's just playing" (conversation with author, 1981). Or, to use Michael Silverstein's terms, it has become a "scheduled emblematic identity-display" (2003). Symbolic deployment of Native American languages in public con- texts reflects the same pattern. When a younger person gets up in a Haida memorial potlatch4 to utter a short speech in Haida (a language that is functionally only spo- ken by her grandparents' generation), the metacommuni- cative message is several. For the assembled elders, she honors tradition; for her largely monolingual cohort, she ostensively demonstrates that language resumption is pos- sible; and for all assembled, she reflexively proclaims a re-

surgent cultural identity against more than a century of state hegemony.s Similarly, Hopi Kachina dances, trans- formed significantly (though not completely) into a per- formance of local identity, are, at least for the younger generation, a basis of ethnic pride in a pluricultural world experienced as a mosaic of inclusions and exclusions.

In this world, local asseverations and renunciations stake allegorical claims to "difference." Such identity dis- plays thus manifest a form of cultural capital and even "distinction" in Pierre Bourdieu's (1984) terms. As resis- tance, however, "cultural and language rights" are typi- cally a deferred discourse, since the subaltern may only speak to power indirectly (Spivak 1988). In this context, language, too, becomes an allegory of identity, like other emblematic cultural displays (cf. Silverstein 1998:411).6

PRIVATE LANGUAGES AND IDEOLOGICAL PROBLEMS OF RESTORATION

Like a religious ritual that turns into an identity-perform- ance,7 when a language becomes thought of as detachable from locality and from an assemblage of cultural codes and practices, it turns into a denatured symbolic system. In oral societies especially, this transformation often con- futes formerly primary linguistic significations. Hopis these days are ambivalent and conflicted about the Hopi language and collectively perplexed over what to do about it. Older Hopis are greatly concerned that most of the gen- eration below the age of 30 neither speaks nor under- stands much of the language. A Third Mesa friend recently told me, with mixed jocularity and poignancy, about a troupe of Hopi Butterfly Dancers at Mesa Verde National Park. As the performers, all in their teens and twenties, reached a certain point of the dance sequence, the ap- pointed "father" (akin to a conductor) called out the standard "ta'dy, pu' huvam ndmt6ik.ya'a," which translates to "all right, now turn around together in line (and dance in the opposite direction)." Seeing no response, he re- peated himself more emphatically, becoming rather agi- tated because from his vantage he could see what they could not: that they were about to dance backward over a cliff. Still no response. Finally, as they neared the edge, he frantically resorted to English: "TURN AROUND." This parable of loss in Hopi discourse about language decline is deeply resonant. But proactive attempts to restore the lan- guage are fraught with multiple competing ideological in- terests.

Hopi, like many other surviving Native American lan- guages, is endangered. The drastic decline in children's linguistic competence dates primarily to the 1970s." In Mi- chael Krauss's (1998) list of four language classes, Hopi at present truly belongs on the cusp between Category B, "spo- ken only by parental generation and up," and Category C, "spoken by only grandparental generation and up."9 One may find Hopis in their twenties who grew up learning the language traditionally (i.e., via straightforward oral trans- mission) and speak it fluently, though these are few and

716 American Anthropologist * Vol. 105, No. 4 * December 2003

far between. Without redressive measures, at the present rate of decline, the language may be lost within a genera- tion or two. Unlike most other Native American cases, Hopi society has a large, functioning speech community. Language preservation thus appears eminently possible, given the right circumstances, and, perhaps, the sort of Master-Apprentice Program that has succeeded with some Native languages in California (Hinton 1998). But effec- tive responses to the Hopi language crisis depend on the adoption of a linguistic ideology, including "rights," that most older Hopis conceive as alien: an ideology in which the language is not integral to an embedded series of relig- ious beliefs, ritual practices, and social and economic forms but, rather, is seen as detachable, secularizable, and in fine readable and writable. Such views are anathema to preexisting Hopi, and more generally Pueblo, values that emphasize linguistic privacy as a technique of sociopoliti- cal autonomy. Recently the Hopi Cultural Preservation Of- fice sought to enact a Tribal ordinance that "the Hopi lan- guage shall be for the exclusive use of the Hopi people" (Whiteley n.d.) echoing other forms of cultural protec- tionism. Language is here a register at the "intersection of indexicality and ideology" (Silverstein 2003), and, as alle- gory of identity, part of the ongoing fight, on several prac- tical and discursive fronts, to maintain some form of sov- ereignty.

Throughout the late 19th and much of the 20th cen- tury, Native Americans had no language rights. Not until the rather belated passage of the Native American Lan- guages Act (Public Law 101-477) in 1990 did they even no- tionally receive any such protections. Indigenous lan- guages were not only absent from official discourse but were also an active target of state elimination. Indian Boarding Schools in the United States and Residential Schools in Canada vigorously sought to stamp out Native languages by instituting brutal disciplinary regimes, ag- gressive assimilation tactics, and forcible commingling of Indians from different language backgrounds (e.g., Adams 1995; Lomawaima 1994; Szasz 1974). Hopis experienced the full effect of these practices late into the 20th century. But the language continued to flourish regardless. The chief cause of recent decline is monolingual television, in- troduced in the 1970s, and other accelerated pressures to- wards modernity.

Hopis have responded with very mixed feelings to the precipitous language decline, which is occurring against the backdrop of a persistent indigenous culture in other respects, such as the matrilineal kinship system, the ritual calendar, and, to some degree, the subsistence economy. Many elders blame their juniors for failing to learn the language but often ridicule the halting efforts of some to do so. This creates a double bind that militates against any easy resumption of language learning (see, e.g., The Hopi Way 1995; cf. Kroskrity 1993:82, on Arizona Tewa). In this generation gap, the sense is that true Hopi identity only belongs to the old, and while there is some despair that Hopi values and practices seem to be disappearing, there is

general helplessness over what to do about it. Among the younger generations there is a wide sense of cultural infe- riority and some yearning for greater inclusion that lin- guistic proficiency, were they to have it, would allow. In itself this factor heightens the transformation of ritual per- formances into emblematic identity displays, since here is one of the few settings in which the young can publicly enact a marked cultural belonging. At the same time, the younger generations move more easily in the larger world, in whose manners and mores they are more fluent, and that provides a source of agency independent of the some- times harsh judgments of their elders.

Many of the older generation greet Hopi language loss with fatalism and justify it as a fulfillment of "prophecy," a wide-ranging discourse in Hopi society (cf. Geertz 1994). While some proactive efforts have been made by various Hopi constituencies over the last two decades to preserve and perpetuate the language, local responses have by no means been wholly enthusiastic. In the early 1980s, for ex- ample, Hotevilla-Bacavi Community School on Third Mesa became independent of the Bureau of Indian Affairs and its curricular and educational policy mandates, to forge a bilingual, bicultural education program. After several years, this collapsed, in part because of its divisive effects in the community. "Traditionalist" Hopis-descendants of "Hostiles" who had vigorously opposed government- enforced education in the first half of the 20th century- opposed the school's teaching of Hopi language and cul- ture because these are more properly suited for learning at home and in private ritual contexts: Indeed, they impart knowledge that is held to operate as a resistive counter- weight to the teaching children receive at school. Al- though run by a Hopi principal and several other talented Hopi intellectuals, the school was still perceived as an alien institution designed for learning the "white man's way." Among "progressive" Hopis in the community who are generally in favor of school education, some opposed the program for a counterpoint reason: that it would ham- per the children's ability to maneuver in the dominant so- ciety. "Progressives" deem this ability very important, not simply because it was drummed into them during their own school experiences but also because it was actively promoted by their own unschooled grandparents, who were keenly aware of their marginalized political position in the dominion of the nation-state (cf. Pennycook 1998:84-85, on similar views among Torres Strait Island- ers). In another instance, in the mid 1990s, Moencopi Day School, in an area of the Hopi Reservation perhaps the most strikingly affected by language loss, also attempted to introduce Hopi language teaching. The school board (composed entirely of Hopis) had reached the last hurdle of approval when someone pointed out there were four or five Navajo children attending the school. The possibility that some Navajo children might learn to speak Hopi was perceived as a worse threat than the fact that Hopi children otherwise would not learn it. The plans were scotched.

Whiteley * "Language Rights" and Hopi Queries 717

These politically grounded and historically motivated stances to protect sociocultural sovereignty confront head- on a presumption of language rights discourse that open linguistic interchange in a public, democratic sphere is the basic model of language use. Linguistic inscription for educational purposes is a particular form of threat. Hopi has been written by missionaries and a few others for more than a century. But the language remains function- ally nonliterate. Most fluent Hopi speakers (all of whom are literate in English) tend not to think of Hopi as a writ- ten language and are skeptical if not downright resistant to attempts to write it. If they belong to a small group of active Christians, they may read hymns and biblical pas- sages in a romanized orthography of Hopi. But there are very few other texts available besides the occasional arti- cles in Hopi Tribe publications. Otherwise, bilingual publi- cations, like several volumes of oral narratives produced by Ekkehart Malotki (e.g., 1995), are largely seen at pre- sent as not for Hopi consumption, but for the use of pa- haana (white) linguists, anthropologists, and the like. As language programs in local schools (such as the Hopi Lit- eracy Project devised by Emory Sekaquaptewa of the Uni- versity of Arizona) depend on literacy in Hopi, those who are becoming most comfortable with written Hopi are those who speak it least well. The Hopi Dictionary Project (organized by Kenneth Hill and others at the University of Arizona) was applauded and supported by many in the community. But the dictionary ran into some major road- blocks as publication neared. First, there was concern it would expose both language and culture to outside under- standing, thus abridging cultural sovereignty. Second, it was felt that the dictionary, like classroom teaching, would fix the sounds and meanings of the Hopi language in an alien, objectified form. And, third, there was concern, par- ticularly at First and Second Mesas, that the dictionary would effectively privilege the Orayvi dialect as the stand- ard form. The dictionary was eventually published (Hopi Dictionary Project 1998), and I think will prove a vitally important resource to Hopis for generations to come. But that is my perspective as a pahaana anthropologist.

In perhaps an even more compelling example of lan- guage as a technique of cultural privacy and mark of sover- eignty, a linguistic researcher was summarily ejected from Jemez Pueblo a few years ago when he was discovered at- tempting to inscribe a lexicon and grammar of Towa (the Jemez language). As the Pueblo governor and a party of re- ligious leaders explained, during a presentation at Colum- bia University Law School,1o this was tantamount to her- esy: Under no circumstances could the Jemez language be written down and disseminated (cf. Kroskrity 1993:87, on a similar attitude among some Arizona Tewa). They met with stunned consternation by the audience of law stu- dents, who, in the garrulous city of New York and the ver- bose field of legal argument, take for granted a language ideology of secularized democratic utterance and ex- change. That language ideology is the same one that un- derlies much language rights discourse. But as these

Pueblo examples show, particular local expressions of "language rights" take on an inverse form here: the right not to let the language persist, be disseminated, or be pre- sent in official state or pedagogical settings.

LANGUAGE IDEOLOGIES: LOGOCENTRISM VERSUS PERFORMATIVITY

Pueblo resistance to linguistic inscription points toward an important conclusion: that language rights discourse is predicated on the logocentrism that emanates from the social transition to literacy. A logocentric language ideol- ogy alters the way oral languages are thought about and used. Reconceptualizing an unwritten language as, well, a "language," is ipso facto to resituate many of its uses and saliences in a local speech-community. Writing and liter- acy, as Walter Ong (1982), Benedict Anderson (1991), and Jack Goody (e.g., 2000) have variously observed, utterly change a community's sense of its language and indeed of itself. Once a community's language is literate, it becomes difficult to imagine it, and imagine with it, in nonlogo- centric ways. Literacy is thus a primary agent in the re- flexivization process. In the world system, an ideology of linguistic rights is decidedly logocentric and dependent on nation-state ideas of language and community (cf. Miihl- hausler 1996; Pennycook 1998). Writing and other tech- nologizations of language, such as its use on radio, televi- sion, and the Internet, devalue language's performative powers and largely demystify the "magical power of words," reducing language to symbols with referential, rhetorical, and aesthetic capacity but without instrumen- tal force. The sociolinguistic effects may be profound.

On moving to New York in the mid-1980s, following an extended stay on the Hopi reservation, I was immedi- ately struck by the pervasive talk and avoidance of silent gaps in conversation, in marked contrast to Hopi or Navajo sociolinguistic values. For Hopi and Navajo, the il- locutionary capacity (Austin 1962) of speech, especially in ritual contexts, is axiomatic and conditions utterance. Words may be materially dangerous or beneficent; linked with ritual drama, they may instrumentalize as they are uttered. In Navajo cosmogony, for example, speech liter- ally creates the world (rather than naming a first-created material form) and is used directly to control material forces and entities. First Man encounters two deity forms who personify Thought and Speech, respectively. Thought and Speech are the parents of Changing Woman, a deity "identified with the Earth . . . and . . . the source and sus- tenance of all life on the earth's surface, controlling par- ticularly fertility and fecundity" (Witherspoon 1977:17-18). The animate power of speech lies at the heart of Navajo ontology and conditions the very sense of language and its uses:

The speech act is the ultimate act of knowledge and power, and by speaking properly and appropriately one can control and compel the power of the gods. This is the ontological and rational basis of the compulsive power of speech. [1977:60]

718 American Anthropologist * Vol. 105, No. 4 * December 2003

The Navajo view of the world is based on two metaphysi- cal premises. .... One of these is a willful and pervasive determinism, and the other is an unbreakable link be- tween the worlds of thought and speech and the worlds of matter and energy. Both of these presuppositions are con- tradicted or denied in Western metaphysics. [1977:75]

Language use is predicated on a primary cultural assump- tion that it may be directly instrumental in the material world. This does not mean that Navajos, or Hopis, go about in fear of utterance per se. Indeed, in Hopi dis- course, there is pervasive punning and wordplay (often in- terlinguistically with English, Navajo, Japanese, German, etc.), for which the villagers of Musangnuvi on Second Mesa are especially famous. But these sociolinguistic prac- tices and their counterpoints of silence occur within con- ventionally understood contexts that prescribe when cer- tain forms of discourse are appropriate and when they are not; when they are not, the seriousness with which people treat utterance may be palpable. Witherspoon's point about the contradiction with Western metaphysics be- comes especially relevant: The conflict between sociolin- guistic sensibilities-like those of the Hopi or Navajo on the one hand, and those emerging with global rights dis- course on the other-concerns more than mere differences of linguistic ideology.

In the transition to literacy, and, especially, where it is imposed by the state, language is often flattened, secular- ized, and further relativized: It is reduced to a symbolic code largely lacking in constitutive agency, except, again, metaphorically. And where oral languages now textual- ized are subjected to commodification, as in the market circulation of Native imagery, this flattening process reaches its maximum. For example, the Hopi sign katsina (cf. Pearlstone 2001) is an important religious term with multiple layers of significance. But its circulation in tourist and other non-Hopi discourse, and its anglicized transfor- mation to kachina minimizes its sphere of meaning. In English kachinas primarily refers to the dolls that Hopis make both for internal use and for sale. This is a reference that Hopi katsina does not have. Katsinam (the plural form of the word) refers to ancestral spirits, who may manifest themselves as rain clouds, as protagonists in sacred narra- tives, and as personated actors in masked ritual dramas. In the market-driven dialog that refers to the dolls (tithu in Hopi) as kachinas, younger Hopis especially absorb some of the reduced sense of the term and indeed need to em- ploy that sense in their interactions with buyers of tribal art-interlocutors who are typically only superficially in- terested in Hopi cultural ideas. As an English term, kachina, used by both non-Hopis and Hopis responding to them, has thus been drastically evacuated of meaning, and this process will expand with the decline of the Hopi speech community and the continuing commodification of Hopi artifacts.

Under these conditions, a language rights ideology that is metaphysically and legalistically predisposed to- wards a logocentric view of language, that in and of itself

entails semiotic depletion (especially in the realm of highly valued religious signification), works against some primary linguistic values in Native communities.

WHOSE RIGHTS ARE LANGUAGE RIGHTS?

While a quasi-anthropological sense of culture has now caught on globally, its identitarian (and, indeed, "self-ref- erential and totalizing") purchase and dislocation from so- cial relations produce problems that reflect back onto an- thropological understandings of the cultural (see Strathern 1995:168-170). Under the received anthropological no- tion, especially as modified by intergovernmental dis- course, culture is politically neutral. Despite overuse and frequently uncritical extension (cf. Sahlins 2002), Michel Foucault's enduring legacy has been to show that any sys- temic set of discourses and practices anthropologists would term culture is saturated with power, enabling cer- tain actions and actors and inhibiting others. This sense of culture seems not to have transferred to human rights dis- course or other global and nationalist declensions of the term, except by innuendo in brief qualifying statements (like the final sentence of the UNESCO declaration's Arti- cle 5 above). If culture embodies power, and if language rights rest on cultural rights, then we ought to attend to how language rights may operate-not only to extend so- cial justice in some spheres but also to perpetuate social inequities in others. Insofar as language is the primary me- dium of culture, while ostensibly a neutral code when de- tached from self and community, in operation language too cannot be detached from power. Such operations of power-knowledge within culture apply both transnation- ally (including diasporically) and internally to a commu- nity.

For the former, take the case of a married couple who moved to the Netherlands within the last decade from South Africa (and see Stolcke 1995). She is Tswana, he is British (both are more cosmopolitan than these single- identity labels allow); she is black, he is white. Both are equally fluent in Setswana and English, speaking both in- terchangeably in the home. In apartheid South Africa, English became a cosmopolitan language of liberation, as opposed to Afrikaans, the language of oppression. For both individuals, Dutch-as the ancestor of Afrikaans-is some- what overdetermined in this regard, but each has sought to learn it as the language of their newly adopted country. In the streets of Amsterdam, interlocutors quickly recog- nize the man's halting Dutch and switch to English, the global language in which most Dutch are fluent. In the Netherlands, as elsewhere, the local-global dialectic around English is ambivalent: English is required for ease of movement in the world system but locally resisted for its hegemonic effects. In this context, the man is recog- nized as a middle-class Briton-not part of, but posing no xenophobic threat to, white Dutch society. When, in simi- lar street conversation, the woman tries to initiate a switch from Dutch to English, on the other hand, the response is

Whiteley * "Language Rights" and Hopi Queries 719

not the same: She is usually identified as an "asylum seeker" or other Third World migrant who has come to es- cape oppression elsewhere (though this is not in fact the case). As in other Western European countries, Third World and Eastern European migrants are currently being pressed to assimilate to the national society in the Nether- lands. In contrast to the reaction to her husband, there is an insistence that she learn to speak Dutch: In fact, her fluency in cosmopolitan English is perceived as subversive to forced assimilation and local racialist hierarchy. For her, English remains a liberating global tool in the face of that hierarchy. She does not insist on any official right to speak Setswana, a right that would be meaningless in this congeries of social forces. So the language rights of some, the Dutch, in the Netherlands nation-state and its nesting within the European Community, become the language duties of others, such as immigrants of color or of disad- vantaged nonnorthern European origin. In seeking to pre- serve other human rights, which are arguably more impor- tant in this context than their local language rights, the latter must fight for their right to a cosmopolitan, transna- tional status and its support by mastery of a global lan- guage.

As regards the operation of linguistically based or re- inforced power-knowledge within an ethnocultural com- munity, other forms of inequality may come into play. As noted, the discourse of language rights implicitly treats language as a neutral communicative medium. Where that discourse combines language with culture, the latter is in- tended in the apoliticized, relativist sense identified above. In UNESCO's position on cultural diversity (UNESCO 2002), "culture" is verging on "couture": consumerist identity- clothing to don or doff as the mood strikes. But what if one's culture (to invoke the standard challenges to relativ- ism) includes female genital mutilation, witch torture, in- fanticide, widow burning, or human sacrifice? Some lin- guistic practices both rest on and articulate cultural forms antithetical to a global-universalist sense of human rights. One does not need to be a strong Whorfian to agree that ideas embedded in language and language practices help shape or reaffirm social assumptions. Where those assump- tions entail significant inequality, defending rights to lin- guistic usage that effectively reproduce such structures means we favor one kind of human rights over another and some humans over others. The linguistic and other cultural secrecy through which the Pueblos have main- tained some sovereignty over the last four centuries of co- lonial presence simultaneously encodes some gender (and other) inequalities. Several terms in Pueblo languages dis- tinguish social ranks, for example. In Tewa, this distinction is marked by a term (Patowa) meaning "Made, Completed, Instituted, or Become people" (Ortiz 1969:79) as opposed to commoners, referred to by terms (Whe Towa, Nayi wha Towa) that translate respectively as "Weed or Trash peo- ple" or "Dust-dragging people" (1969:17). As I have argued (Whiteley 1987) for related categories in Hopi, these are not merely classificatory but both reflect and reproduce

locally important social inequities. Or, again, if the Hopi category powaqa, "witch/sorcerer," occurs in a discursive context of accusation and ostracism, does the extension of language rights protect the right to identify and, thus, per- secute such persons? Should "hate speech" be protected or policed out by language rights? And what if one's lan- guage and its sociolinguistic habitus pervasively distin- guishes male from female and privileges the former in re- lation to the latter (see, e.g., Ide and Hill 1998)?

Deciding which rights are more important-in the last case (to render it as a reductio ad absurdum), those of women or those of language-is a Hobson's choice. If, in one regard, globalization, despite its damage to cultural and linguistic diversity, offers some possibilities of greater social justice, we should refrain from a simplistic equation of linguistic rights with human rights. European immi- grants to the United States at the Turn of the Century in many cases willingly espoused the nation-state's monolin- gual language ideology as a means toward greater social equality; similarly, many Native Americans of an earlier generation were convinced that learning English was the only hope for the future and consciously discouraged their children from learning the native tongue. New inequali- ties produced by language and social change should sound a note of caution about any unproblematized sense of lan- guage rights. Whose rights are they? What group-internal consequences may there be? What unintended conse- quences might there be with language rights laws embed- ded in liberal legal rationalities that, however well-inten- tioned and oriented toward social justice, are a form of social engineering nonetheless? Christina Paulston (1997) and Alastair Pennycook (1998) seek to circumvent these problems by arguing for "emic" rights or "situated ethics," respectively. But that evades the issue: Either a right is a human right, under some universally acceptable defini- tion of human, or it is not; if we endorse certain human rights for certain humans and not for others, our claims to a humanitarian moral philosophy as the baseline of hu- man rights, and their dependent language rights, seem highly suspect.

CONCLUSION

Language rights of subaltern peoples in the global political economy and its various national and diasporic expressions engage a valuable discourse around language and culture, but, as rights, are more complex than meets the eye. In evaluating the conditions that permit and encourage small-group languages to survive and prosper, globalism seems to be an irresistible force shaping current language, language rights, and ideologies. Literacy, the reading and writing of indigenous languages, is the probable bottom-line for survival, and those other technologizations of the word, such as radio, television, and the Internet, are prob- ably going to be at least equally important, along with the classroom and the archive (cf. Silverstein 2003). But technologizations inevitably resituate the sociolinguistic

720 American Anthropologist * Vol. 105, No. 4 * December 2003

sensibilities of speech-communities with regard to their languages and deracinate them to a greater or lesser extent from local and "traditional" interests; and when accompa- nied by diaspora, the effects are both magnified and re- fracted across global ethnoscapes.

While the process of globalization may inevitably resi- tuate the sense of culture and language ever more rela- tively, anthropology should not let it be forgotten that cultural realities are not mere couture-that is, optional identitarian fashion pieces to put on and discard as one sees politically fit. Contemporary multiculturalist dis- course of culture as owned property, of which language rights discourse is one species, will be merely mystificatory if it does not engage both the more pervasive anthropo- logical sense of culture and its effects at all levels (onto- logical, epistemological, hermeneutic, economic, etc.), to- gether with a Foucauldian sense of its saturation with power and history. Typical language practices cross-cultur- ally include rights and duties to speak and to hold one's tongue, to repress speech, and to express and perpetuate social inequities. It is by no means self-evident that lan- guage rights guarantee First Amendment protections of "free speech," and without that, any universalist approach to language rights, even a hedged "situationalist" or "emic" one, may be overly simplistic and actually contra- dictory to human rights. The quasi-legal discourse of lan- guage rights as human rights (see, e.g., Paulston 1997; Varennes 2001), and the further strategic association of these in some political contexts with environmental rights, opens on some thorny terrain. The premise that linguistic rights are equivalent to human rights and, therefore, a natural good based on democratic assumptions, may mask both transnational and local instrumentalities of internal oppression by gender, race, rank, region, and so on. The model of human rights as applied to language shares some difficulties with its application to nature: If we favor ani- mal rights, does that mean we preserve the right of lions to eat zebras? Some animals are more equal than others. Under an ideology of language rights, some languages, and their social instrumentalities, may be, too.

In order to persist and prosper, languages, like cultures, will inevitably become to some extent reified, essential- ized, and objectified by their very subject-communities. This goes against some analytical and ethical preferences in anthropology and also against the performative sociol- inguistic sensibilities of many oral indigenous communi- ties. In respect to the former, analytical fear of reification, essentialization, naturalization, and objectification, the voicing of which has become de rigueur in much anthro- pological argument, may be excessive. Both in the field and as it is theorized, ethnography, of its very nature, pre- sumes patterned human practices that are, in important respects, consistent and intersubjectively available (and translatable) under some description. In order to study anything, but particularly something involving such pat- terns, there must be some sense of its status as entity, process, structure, or arrangement, however provisional

and transitory such reifying impositions may be, and how- ever contingent on conceptual and historical overdetermi- nation. So, despite a lingering antireferentialist cant from postmodern anthropology, we should not shrink from de- scribing linguistic or cultural structures as objective enti- ties, in order, for example, to compare patterns of linguis- tic persistence and endangerment. This does not entail naively abandoning genuine problematics of signification, but such problematics should not be easily permitted to in- capacitate empirical analysis and its heuristic fruits. Lan- guages and cultures are historically situated, politically motivated, underpinned by ideologies, and shifting. But they are also objective forms: describable in social space and practice, bounded in some regard (however blurry and tentacular), historically persistent and identifiable through time, they are, in short, real things.

PETER WHITELEY Division of Anthropology, American Museum of Natural History, New York, NY 10024

NOTES Acknowledgments. Many thanks to Sally McLendon for inviting my participation in the 2001 AAA session on language rights, as a discussant of papers by Joseph Errington, Monica Heller, Jonathan King, and Michael Silverstein, as well as for encouragement throughout the publication process. All four of those papers sig- nificantly influenced my thinking in this article. Comments by William Maurer, Arnold Krupat, and Fran Mascia-Lees and Susan Lees have proven particularly helpful in rethinking and rewriting, although I remain solely responsible for the final outcome. Field- work at Hopi over the past two decades has been supported by sev- eral institutions and individuals (see Whiteley 1998). I am also most grateful to Michael Novacek, Provost, and the American Mu- seum of Natural History for a start-up grant and other funds that allowed recent visits to Hopi and to Haida Gwaii. 1. Linguistic relativism is a partial foundation for language rights discourse (e.g., Corbett 2001; Krauss 1996), but if that predicates perceptual and value differences, it seems paradoxical that lan- guage rights should be upheld by a logocentric, fundamentally SAE-based ("Standard Average European" in Whorf's terminology) language ideology. 2. While not strictly Boasian, this definition-a slightly odd melange of Tylor ("whole complex" for "complex whole"), Boas, Benedict, and Kluckhohn, with a little New Age and human rights thrown in-clearly echoes received anthropological thought. 3. Hopi-Tewa plurilingualism persists into the present. Indeed, in some cases, Hopi-Tewas, perhaps because of an ethnoculturally foregrounded emphasis on language (see Kroskrity 1993), have a knowledge of the Hopi language that exceeds that of Hopis of the same generation. 4. Like the Haida language, the Haida potlatch is itself a resur- rected cultural form following decades of government repression. 5. I am drawing here on an event I was privileged to attend in Old Massett, Haida Gwaii (the Queen Charlotte Islands), in March 2003. 6. Allegorical claims may have material sociopolitical implications and may be the basis for transformative social movements, too, however, where majoritarian statist legal and human rights dis- courses are appropriated and projected back by linguistically disen- franchized minorities to argue for sovereign rights against the state. This is occurring on Haida Gwaii, for example, where the momentum of cultural renaissance is combined with a resurgent indigenist land claim against the Canadian government, and with other expressions of political sovereignty. 7. For this section I intend the term sociolinguistically-as a slightly ironic play on Wittgenstein's argument (1958) against the possibility

Whiteley * "Language Rights" and Hopi Queries 721

that there can be mentally private languages. With some excep- tions (see Das 1998), Wittgenstein's crucial importance to a phi- losophy of ethnographic explanation-especially vis-a-vis the in- tersubjectivity of linguistic meaning and the defeat of solipsism- is now overlooked. In my view, recently more popular recursions of literary criticism and continental philosophy are far poorer epis- temological models for a discipline (ethnography) utterly predi- cated upon the reality of patterned human practices, intersubjec- tivity, and linguistic intertranslatability (cf. Whiteley 1998a). 8. The situation emerging with Navajo is similar (e.g., Krauss 1998:15; House 2002), although, in my own experience, Navajo appears less endangered than Hopi. 9. Krauss (1998:14) is unfortunately too optimistic in placing Hopi in his Category A (i.e., "still spoken by all generations including young children"). 10. They had traveled to New York to repatriate some war shields from the Brooklyn Museum.

REFERENCES CITED Adams, David W.

1995 Education for Extinction: American Indians and the Boarding School Experience, 1875-1928. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas.

American Anthropological Association 2000 Statement on Language Rights (adoptedJanuary 1996, up-

dated 2000). Anderson, Benedict

1991 Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism. New York: Verso.

Appadurai, Arjun 1996 Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization.

Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Austin, John Langshaw

1962 How to Do Things with Words. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Bhabha, Homi K. 1994 The Location of Culture. New York: Routledge.

Bourdieu, Pierre 1984[1979] Distinction: A Social Critique of theJudgment of Taste.

Richard Nice, trans. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Chen, Albert H. Y.

1998 The Philosophy of Language Rights. Language Sciences 20(1):45-54.

Clifford, James 1997 Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Cen-

tury. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Corbett, Greville G.

2001 Why Linguists Need Languages. In On Biocultural Diversity: Linking Language, Knowledge, and the Environment. Luisa Maffi, ed. Pp. 82-94. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press.

Das, Veena 1998 Wittgenstein and Anthropology. Annual Review of Anthro-

pology 27:171-195. Fishman, Joshua A.

1994 On the Limits of Ethnolinguistic Democracy. In Linguistic Human Rights: Overcoming Linguistic Discrimination. Tove Skuttnab-Kangas and Robert Phillipson, eds. Pp. 49-62. New York: Mouton de Gruyter.

Geertz, Armin 1994 The Invention of Prophecy: Continuity and Meaning in

Hopi Indian Religion. Berkeley: University of California Press. Goody, Jack R.

2000 The Power of the Written Tradition. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press.

Hamel, Rainer E. 1997 Language Conflict and Language Shift: A Sociolinguistic

Framework for Linguistic Human Rights. International Journal of the Sociology of Language 127:105-134.

Hinton, Leanne 1998 Language Loss and Revitalization in California: Overview. In-

ternationalJournal of the Sociology of Language 132:83-93. Hopi Dictionary Project

1998 Hopi Dictionary-Hopiikwa Lavdiytutuveni: A Hopi-English Dictionary of the Third Mesa Dialect. Bureau of Applied Research

in Anthropology, University of Arizona, comp. Tucson: Univer- sity of Arizona Press.

The Hopi Way 1995 David Wason, dir. 56 minutes. BBC film ("Other Worlds" se-

ries). Manchester: BBC Film. House, Deborah

2002 Language Shift among the Navajos: Identity Politics and Cul- tural Continuity. Tucson: University of Arizona Press.

Ide, Sachiko, and Beverly Hill, eds. 1998 Women's Languages in Various Parts of the World. Interna-

tionalJournal of the Sociology of Language 129. Krauss, Michael

1996 Status of Native American Language Endangerment.In Stabi- lizing Indigenous Languages. Gina Cantoni, ed. Flagstaff: North- ern Arizona University Center for Excellence in Education Monograph Series.

1998 The Condition of Native North American Languages: The Need for Realistic Assessment and Action. InternationalJournal of the Sociology of Language 132:9-21.

Kroskrity, Paul 1993 Language, History, and Identity: Ethnolinguistic Studies of the Arizona Tewa. Tucson: University of Arizona Press.

Lavie, Smadar 1990 The Poetics of Military Occupation: Mzeina Allegories of Bed-

ouin Identity under Israeli and Egyptian Rule. Berkeley: Univer- sity of California Press.

Levi-Strauss, Claude 1963[1949] The Sorcerer and his Magic. In Structural Anthropol-

ogy. C. Jacobson and B. G. Schoepf, trans. Pp. 167-185. New York: Basic Books.

Lomawaima, Tsianina 1994 They Called It Prairie Light: The Story of Chilocco Indian

School. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press. Lowe, Lisa, and David Lloyd, eds.

1998 The Politics of Culture in the Shadow of Capital. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

Malotki, Ekkehart 1983 Hopi Time: A Linguistic Analysis of the Temporal Concepts

in the Hopi Language. Berlin: Mouton. Malotki, Ekkehart, ed.

1995 The Bedbugs' Night Dance and Other Hopi Sexual Tales/Mu- muspi'yyungqa Tuutuwutsi. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.

Mtihlhausler, Peter 1996 Linguistic Ecology: Language Change and Linguistic Imperi-

alism in the Pacific Region. New York: Routledge. Ong, WalterJ.

1982 Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word. New York: Methuen.

Ortiz, Alfonso 1969 The Tewa World: Space, Time, Being and Becoming in a

Pueblo Society. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Paulston, Christina Bratt

1997 Language Policies and Language Rights. Annual Review of Anthropology 26:73-85.

Pearlstone, Zena, ed. 2001 Hopi Katsina: Commodified and Appropriated Images of

Hopi Supernaturals. Los Angeles: Fowler Museum of Cultural His- tory, UCLA.

Pennycook, Alastair 1998 The Right to Language: Towards a Situated Ethics of Lan-

guage Possibilities. Language Sciences 20(1):73-87. Phillipson, Robert, and Tove Skuttnab-Kangas

1995 Linguistic Rights and Wrongs. Applied Linguistics 16(4): 483-504.

Rassool, Naz 1998 Postmodernity, Cultural Pluralism and the Nation-State:

Problems of Language Rights, Human Rights, Identity and Power. Language Sciences 20(1):89-99.

Sahlins, Marshall 1993 Goodbye to Tristes Tropes: Ethnography in the Context of

Modern World History. Journal of Modern History 65:1-25. 2002 Waiting for Foucault, Still. Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press.

Silverstein, Michael 1998 Contemporary Transformations of Local Linguistic Commu-

nities. Annual Review of Anthropology 27:401-426.

722 American Anthropologist * Vol. 105, No. 4 * December 2003

2003 The Wheres and Whens-as Well as Hows--ofEthnolinguis- tic Recognition. Public Culture (November 2003).

Skuttnab-Kangas, Tove, and Robert Phillipson, eds. 1994 Linguistic Human Rights: Overcoming Linguistic Discrimi-

nation. New York: Mouton de Gruyter. 2000 Rights to Language: Equity, Power, and Education. Mahwah,

NJ: Erlbaum. Spivak, Gayatri C.

1988 Can the Subaltern Speak? In Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture. C. Nelson and L. Grossberg, eds. Pp. 271-313. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

Stolcke, Verena 1995 Talking Culture: New Boundaries, New Rhetorics of Exclu-

sion in Europe. Current Anthropology 36(1):1-24. Strathern, Marilyn

1995 The Nice Thing about Culture Is That Everyone Has It. In Shifting Contexts: Transformations in Anthropological Knowl- edge. M. Strathern, ed. Pp. 153-176. New York: Routledge.

Szasz, Margaret 1974 Education and the American Indian: The Road to Self-

Determination, 1928-1973. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

Turner, Victor W. 1982 From Ritual to Theatre: The Human Seriousness of Play. New

York: Performing ArtsJournal Publications.

UNESCO 2002 Cultural Diversity: Common Heritage, Plural Identities.

Paris: UNESCO. Varennes, Fernand de

2001 Language Rights as an Integral Part of Human Rights. MOST Journal on Multicultural Societies (UNESCO) 3:1.

Whiteley, Peter 1987 The Interpretation of Politics: A Hopi Conundrum. MAN

(n.s.) 22:696-714. 1998a Introduction: The Predicament of Hopi Ethnography. In Re-

thinking Hopi Ethnography. Pp. 1-48. Washington, DC: Smith- sonian Institution Press.

1998b Native American Philosophy. In Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, vol. 6. Edward Craig, ed. Pp. 662-672. Routledge: New York.

n.d. Fieldnotes, 1996. Unpublished MS. Whorf, Benjamin Lee

1956[1950] An American Indian Model of the Universe. In Lan- guage, Thought, and Reality: Selected Writings of Benjamin Lee Whorf.John B. Carroll, ed. Pp. 57-64. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Witherspoon, Gary 1977 Language and Art in the Navajo Universe. Ann Arbor: Uni-

versity of Michigan Press. Wittgenstein, Ludwig

1958 Philosophical Investigations. New York: Macmillan.