On Nazi Punching

I have been an archaeologist for 35 years and I have never punched a Nazi.

Not one - which is pretty weird because I have spent decades telling my children that, like the hero of the Indiana Jones movies, retrieving artifacts and battling Nazis is what we archaeologists “do.” It also seemed like an absurd and ironic sort of thing to say at a time when fascism appeared to be an idea that had been comfortably tossed into the dustbin of history. Now I wonder.

People go where their gifts are. Daydreamers become poets and artists. Deep thinkers head for science and philosophy. Gregarious people become bartenders or insurance brokers or politicians. Anachronistic loners who prefer the company of the dead to that of the living become archaeologists. "It’s a thing.” And that makes it particularly ironic that archaeologists have been dragged into some of the most difficult issues that confront Canadian society at the moment; the fallout from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the quest for social justice for Indigenous communities, and the push to confront some of the more uncomfortable stories from Canada’s history. We are, on a daily basis, exposed to evidence which bears on all of these issues. And, like it or not, we find ourselves in a moment when we need to put our tools down and say so.

Right wing populism, which seems to be in ascendancy in many parts of the world, is a thin ideology.  As authors like Cas Mudde, Benjamin Moffit, and Jan-Werner Muller have pointed out, it’s almost childishly simple. At its heart is the idea that there is an “US” (“the regular hard-working people”) - and a “THEM” (made up of elites who do not share the people’s values and, with hostile intent, are trying to keep them down). The People are the only group with legitimate interests. To a Populist, anyone who disagrees with them cannot be a member of “the People” – so they must belong to the corrupt elite and, as such, can comfortably be ignored.

Around the globe, populists trade in division. Populism is the opposite of pluralism in which diversity is seen as a strength and power is viewed as something that should be shared among social groups. For a pluralist, no one community should ever be forced to conform to the standards of another. Populists, on the other hand, claim that their definition of "the people" represents the majority and that the power of the majority to impose its will on smaller groups or subcultures is both unconstrained and just. Indeed, even when populists don’t win a majority of votes in elections, they still claim majority support – typically by suggesting that elites corruptly used their power to suppress the true people’s vote. Thus a populist can lose an election, or win with a mere plurality of the vote, and still claim to represent the true will of “real people.” It’s worth noting that writer Cas Mudde observed this years before the 2020 American election.

Populism finds its most dangerous expression when it is combined with other, “thicker” ideologies – like White Nationalism, Fascism, and the sort of identity politics that have been embraced by the so-called Alt-Right. Here in Canada, one doesn’t have to scratch the national fabric too deeply to discover that the Colonial Narrative has its own drawer in the right-wing populist tool kit. It integrates well with the ideology that difficult-to-solve problems involving Indigenous peoples are largely of their own making and that it shouldn't be up to “the people” to contribute towards fixing them. Indigenous-lived Colonialism raises some uncomfortable issues for nationalists who worry about Canada’s place, both historically, and in the modern world. Furthermore, it’s fair to say that a general concern for Indigenous issues is a perspective which, from the vantage point of a populist, could be dismissed as textbook elitism.

In the Colonial narrative, Indigenous peoples were violent savages - and therefore unworthy of respect. They lived in a constant state of war (unlike Europe?) and made no productive use of their lands – and therefore are better off confined to reserves. They were ignorant or childlike and unable to care for themselves – so it was appropriate that their lives were regulated by the Indian Act. And, beyond that, why do they keep asking for more? Why can’t they just “move on” from old grievances and let bygones be bygones?

This is the part of the movie where, after the villain’s monologue (ie. the previous paragraph), the door opens and we see an archaeologist standing there, backlit, and in a heroic stance (looking far more fit, attractive and well-dressed than any archaeologist actually would, but we’re dealing in metaphors here so let us have some illusions). It’s our moment because we archaeologists have hard-won, first-hand knowledge of Indigenous cultures and histories. We have held its material remains in our hands and it’s almost impossible to do something that intimate without discovering respect for it - or love. I can joke about it, but honestly we archaeologists are all here because we have discovered a beauty in the past and that beauty has transfixed us in some fashion.

We have all been given a small taste of the richness and variety of Indigenous cultures. We have seen how the First Nations lived on the earth and maintained a balance with it. We have been awestruck by the depth of their creative genius in producing objects that would take any art critic’s breath away. We have wept at the losses they suffered as a result of the arrival of Europeans. And we have wondered what their historical trajectories might have been ...had we not interrupted them.

This knowledge is not apolitical. From a populist perspective, it is dangerous and subversive. The Colonial Narrative is old, and it is located in the very DNA of this country. It is so ingrained in our consciousness that we aren’t even aware of it most of the time. The indignities great and small suffered by Indigenous peoples on a daily basis seldom pierce our privileged bubble. But, once the illusion is shattered, and once you see the man behind the curtain, you start noticing him everywhere. For archaeologists, this may be our moment. Every generation in history has had its great cause (Catholic emancipation, women’s rights, racial justice, LGBTQ2+ rights, etc.). I think this one may be ours, and while we are not the heroes of the struggle, we can certainly take a place in the lines.

There is a tendency to think of the quest for social justice as being characterized by loss ("They fought the good fight, but alas... the system prevailed.") but I don’t think that is true. It just takes patience. Right wing populism may be “fact-resistant,” but being untethered to the empirical world, it is vulnerable. I am 54 years old and can remember a time when Mediterranean Europeans weren’t considered fully “white” (whatever that is), when a Protestant marrying a Catholic was considered a mixed marriage, and when gay jokes and ethic humor reigned supreme on prime time television. Not anymore. As Martin Luther King said, "the arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice."

The Colonial Narrative is a story that has had its day. If we, who are in the know about such things, can share what we know, my sense is that we may one day be able to replace that narrative with a new one; one that acknowledges what was lost and our part in it, while celebrating the resilience of Indigenous cultures and setting out a path in which we can reconcile as peoples moving forward. It might not be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is.