• 1 Godelier Maurice, La production des Grands Hommes. Pouvoir et domination masculine chez les Baruya (...)
• 2 The author’s use of quotations marks (p.14) underscores the relative nature of this discovery, whic (...)
• 3 In his 1982 book, the author already suggested that a second book was needed to analyze in greater (...)

1As evidenced by his prolific body of work, Maurice Godelier has dedicated his life to the development of the field of anthropology. But since the 1982 publication of his now-classic book on the Baruya tribe1, he had not written other works exclusively about the Baruya. With the publication of a second volume on this small tribal society in New Guinea –– “discovered”2 in 1951, and which Godelier was the first anthropologist to study in 1967 –– the author tackles two challenges: analyzing the impacts of both colonization and globalization on the Baruya society, and reinforcing the links between humanism and anthropology3. To do this, Godelier takes the reader behind the scenes of the profession for which his passion spans half a century. Loaded with personal anecdotes and written in an accessible style, this book will seduce non-specialized readers and passionate ethnologists alike. The work opens with a chapter on the role of secrets and betrayals in the Baruya society, which is characterized by the domination of women by men. The following two chapters deal respectively with ethics and anthropological methods, as well as the pragmatic adoption of modernity by the Baruya. The book is also accompanied by a section of photographs, taken between 1967 and 2013 by the author and the young colleagues who joined him in the field throughout the years. Godelier’s principal intention in this book is to expose the ravages of colonization through a new lens, and the updated ethnographic material he provides here allows him to take distance from Western imperialism. The objective –– to show the pragmatism of this little society –– is most excellently summarized by the title: Following Jesus and Doing Business (or “bisnis”, as the Baruya say). The Baruya consider that to be “modern” and make money like white people, they must become Christian, but also adapt their original beliefs in order to better withstand the globalized world of which they are now a part. In short: Christianity is good, but only in order to take part in the capitalist economy.

• 4 Godelier Maurice, « Trahir le secret des hommes », Le Genre Humain, n° 16-17, 1987, p. 243-265.
• 5 The past tense is used here because the Baruya tribe’s entry into modernity has profoundly transfor (...)

2The book opens with a trip back in time to the traditional, pre-colonial world of the Baruya. The synthesis of both past and present narratives allows Godelier to improve upon a reflection that he began in a 1987 article4. Contrary to the Judeo-Christian notion that guilt accompanies betrayal, the Baruya originally held a different belief, which was used both to explain the development of their society –– in which the betrayal of allies is foundational –– and to guarantee the domination of men over women. For a Baruya man, the worst of betrayals was the betrayal of his own gender5. Men were not to speak to women about masculine initiation ceremonies, during which young men drank the sperm of their elders who were still virgins in order to renew their virile bodies, nor approach women during their menstrual cycle –– as is shown by Godelier’s participative ethnography. The author himself had to undergo a ritual of purification, intended for women, as he sought (as would any good anthropologist) “to know what is being done and said on both sides of the wall of exclusions, which is grounded in the links between domination and subordination” (p. 72). To attend the ceremony of the first menstruations of a young Baruya girl, he even attempted to enter the menstrual hut that was only meant for women. For the Baruya, menstrual blood was taboo, even though sperm was so revered that the women drank it by fellatio, believing it to fortify their breast milk. Here the author summarizes his more detailed prior work on the subject, noting that it is “the fear of women” that is at the origin of these imaginary constructions about sperm. Not only did the Baruya men minimize the power that women could lay claim to in the name of fertility, but they also hid from women the original place they occupied in tribal myth. In addition to this clarification, the book is in line with contemporary research, as the author notes that there exists something greater than the laws of biological kinship: “a kind of political solidarity” (p. 29). In self-governing societies where wars were recurrent, marriage was used as an instrument to help broker peace between tribes. In particular, the exchange of women could transform enemies into brothers-in-law. The objective was to create bonds of kinship which engendered a certain form of vulnerability –– which then, after a period of calm, would be cleverly exploited by those who were sharpest in the business of betrayal. Even if only for a certain time, Baruya men had deeper affinities with their brothers-in-law than their own brothers: when there were several brothers but only one sister to exchange, a band of brothers could resort to fratricide.

• 6 Before this metamorphosis of the rules, only an alliance between either two distant tribes or two f (...)

3It is the author’s main objective to show how transformed Baruya society is today. Gender inequality has diminished and, little by little, women are becoming aware of their role in procreation. Ritual homosexuality between men and fellation of men by women have disappeared. It is now understood that brothers and sisters share the same blood. The arrival of the Christian church in the region has inevitably spread the notion of consanguinity. But to understand these radical changes, it is important to recall the historical context. As underlined by the author, everything happened very quickly, which renders this observation all the more poignant: “in 1950, the Baruya still used stone tools, in 1960, they were colonized, and in 1975, they became citizens of a liberal democratic state” (p. 22-23). In this transformation from “neolithic to modernity,” the Baruya took risks, sometimes forgetting the essential principle of their social existence –– namely, equality between the menfolk. This risk corresponds to their entry into a market economy. Long before handling bank notes issued by the colonial state, the Baruya used a currency of salt for all kinds of transactions with other tribes. Thus, they were not discovering an economic system, but rather the capitalist model. Capitalism arrived in the 1960’s, when a couple of Lutheran missionaries set up the first shop in this remote community. Next they opened the first primary school, where the first Baruya to “do business” studied. In the 1970’s, many Baruya left their villages to work on plantations maintained by the white colonial settlers. It was upon their return to the tribal villages that the profound changes began. They returned with a salary, but above all with products of a consumer world. Desiring these new material goods, the elders preferred to receive their compensation in money and in merchandise as a means of exchange, rather than exchanging women. At this point, Maurice Godelier reveals a remarkable fact: it was the younger Baruya, not the old, who sought to preserve the traditions. The younger people understood that the transformation of kinship rules was only going to exacerbate inequality6. Now only the men who had worked for the white settlers had the means to marry, whereas before, through the exchange of women, everyone could do so.

• 7 A synopsis of the transformations of the Baruya society over the course of a half-century is given (...)

4This cultural immersion ultimately allows us to follow the advent and progression of capitalism in a given place. The author notes for example that a passion for card games with financial stakes –– which have become commonplace in several Baruya villages –– normalizes the idea of taking money from others. However, the Baruya do not seek wealth at all cost, which explains how they managed to choose which new practices to adopt and which ancient ones to retain. This is one of the key points summarized in an anecdote in which the Baruya ask for Godelier’s help in exchanging their names for names taken from the Bible (p. 122). For the anthropologist, this change proves fatal, because it erases the sense of lineage and clan kinship. For the Baruya, however, it represents nothing more than a tactic. At present, a Baruya man who is a pastor on Sundays is also a shaman the rest of the week. As for the great male initiation rites –– the author notes that the Baruya who went to work in the city were cut off from the majority of their ceremonies7. And yet, they still encouraged their youth to participate in them. The maintenance of these rituals, even reduced to their most basic level, is a means of resistance in the face of globalization. It is also a “school of life” for taking on the world outside the village. It is thus that the Baruya have likely been able to conserve their principle of equality –– however, author does not guarantee that this will not change.

• 8 See the film To find the Baruya Story: An Anthropologist at Work with a New Guinea Tribe: http://ww (...)

5There is still so much to be said about this engaging book –– above all for non-specialised readers, for whom it offers a total immersion in the anthropological field. Of particular note are the enlightening passages on the contributions of film to the field of anthropology. In 1969, when he met filmmakers for the first time, Godelier invited them to shoot his daily work with the Baruya8. Such a staging is a sensible and new way to show that an anthropologist is neither a missionary nor a journalist, visual artist, photographer or filmmaker. Rather, an anthropologist shares the life of the people he or she studies over the course of many years, and adapts to their environment. In the case of Godelier, this meant making a house on stilts, with woven bamboo walls and a thatched roof (p. 64). He respects the Baruya’s secrets, consulting them when editing his films. He becomes, alongside the Baruya themselves, the protective guarantor of their sacred objects (p. 121). By respectfully immortalizing the history of the Baruya, Godelier insures that the torch is passed on, so that the story of this little society does not one day cease to be written.