The goal of this volume, as articulated by the editors, is to encourage archaeologists to listen to ancestral and descendant communities to counter archaeological interpretations based on a purely scientific approach. Listening deeply with epistemic humility allows archaeologists to “evoke the diverse capacities that make us and the people whose residue we investigate fully human” (p. 3). In the introduction, Peter R. Schmidt and Alice B. Kehoe focus on critiquing Lewis R. Binford and scientific archaeology, which has the result of making the critique feel more suited to the early 2000s rather than the time at which it was published. They call on archaeologists to recognize that ancestral and local communities have important knowledge that can help archaeologists make “more inclusive empirical inferences” (p. 19) about the past, implying that the goal of listening is to benefit archaeology. Reflecting on this question, I wonder if this is why archaeologists should listen.
The chapters vary in focus, and the thread that generally connects them is the concept of listening. Some chapters focus on how nonlocal archaeologists can engage in apprenticeship-type relations with communities (Kathryn Weedman Arthur in Chapter 2, Schmidt in Chapter 9, Kehoe in Chapter 12), where their journey of listening has resulted in new insights about the past. Many of the articles demonstrate that listening to Indigenous and descendant communities allows for better archaeology to take place (e.g., Jonathan Walz in Chapter 6). In a few cases, the authors discuss how listening and collaboration brought communities on board with projects that they initially opposed (e.g., Steve Mrozowksi in Chapter 4); others discuss how local knowledge enabled better understanding of archaeological features and sites (Billy Ó Foghlú in Chapter 5).
What is missing from many of the chapters is a discussion about power, privilege, and the right to tell stories of the past. For example, in Chapter 2, Weedman Arthur discusses the long listening journey during which she eventually earned the right to knowledge in the community. She then explains what she learned about the role of stone and stone-tool creation in light of that knowledge but does not mention if or how permission was given to share that knowledge broadly. She listened, but should she be sharing that knowledge with the reader, who has not earned the right to that knowledge?
There are a few exceptions, however. George Nicholas (Chapter 8) discusses how local knowledge has previously been used to “address archaeological goals” and “benefit archaeological inquiry” (p. 159; emphasis in original) rather than a relationship that enriches both the archaeologist and local communities. This is a useful distinction, further strengthened by the case studies from the Intellectual Property Issues in Cultural Heritage (IPinCH) project. Nicholas's chapter is also one of the few to engage deeply with the broad scholarship on collaborative, community-based archaeological practice.
Audrey Horning's chapter (Chapter 10) on who tells stories of conflict is one of the only chapters to explore what it means when the stories of the past may not match the evidence. The complexities Horning discusses are inherent in listening in all contexts, although Horning's account of how the two sides of the “Troubles” in Northern Ireland remember the past through the lens of the present raises questions about the ethical way forward for archaeologists when no one part of the community is more marginalized or oppressed than the other. As Horning notes, “Challenging people's understanding of the past means challenging their identity in the present, so it does carry risk” (p. 212), but in her situation, she was able to occupy a position seen by both sides as neutral—meaning that she could help bridge divides and foster respect for multiple perspectives. Horning's discussion of positionality is helpful, especially for outside scholars working with descendant communities.
The most effective chapters are the ones in which community members are not just listened to but are given a voice. Innocent Pikirayi (Chapter 7) listens to the diverse local histories and narratives around Great Zimbabwe to expand beyond the limited gaze of European observers and histories. Listening places Great Zimbabwe in a larger landscape context to enhance interpretation at the limits of archaeology. Camina Weasel Moccasin (Chapter 3) discusses how her relatives, including Blackfoot Elders and community members, have worked to integrate Blackfoot ways of knowing in the interpretation and preservation of Áísínai'pi (Writing-on-Stone), including allowing Blackfoot people to continue to add to the rock art present there. Jagath Weerasinghe and Schmidt (Chapter 11) explore the tensions between the UNESCO heritage designation values and local understandings of the site of Sigiriya. Local knowledge keepers expressed deep concern about how the site was being managed, but they did not have a way to impact those management plans.
Overall, I struggled with the framing of this edited collection. Is an archaeology of listening something new? Or is this a collection of case studies that add to the extensive literature about collaborative, community-engaged archaeology? Very few chapters grapple with the ethical challenges of nonlocal, nondescendant archaeologists listening and then sharing local knowledge with the world through academic publications such as this one. I am left wondering whether the question is not “Who is listening?” but “Who is speaking?”
