Nomads in Archaeology

Nomads in archaeology

NEW STUDIES IN ARCHAEOLOGY

Series editors

Colin Renfrew, University of CambridgeJeremy Sabloff, University of Pittsburgh

Other titles in the series include

Graham Connah; Three Thousand Years in AfricaRichard Gould, Living ArchaeologyIan Hodder and Clive Orton, Spatial Analysis in ArchaeologyKeith Muckelroy, Maritime ArchaeologyStephen Plog, Stylistic Variation in Prehistoric CeramicsPeter Wells, Culture Contact and Culture ChangeIan Hodder, Symbols in ActionGeoffrey Conrad and Arthur Demarest, Religion and Empire: the Dynamics of Aztec and

Inca ExpansionismPatrick Kirch, Evolution of the Polynesian ChiefdomsDean Arnold, Ceramic Theory and Cultural ProcessGraeme Barker, Prehistoric Farming in EuropeDaniel Miller, Artefacts as CategoriesRobin Torrence, Production and Exchange of Stone ToolsRosalind Hunter-Anderson, Prehistoric Adaptation in the American SouthwestMichael Shanks and Christopher Tilley7 Re-Constructing ArchaeologyBo Graslund, The Birth of Prehistoric ChronologyIan Morris, Burial and Ancient Society: The Rise of the Greek City-StateJohn Fox, Maya Postclassic State FormationJoseph A. Tainter, The Collapse of Complex SocietiesPeter Bogucki, Forest Farmers and Stock HerdersAlasdair Whittle, Problems in Neolithic ArchaeologyOlivier de Montmillon, The Archaeology of Political StructureSteven J. Mithen, Thoughtful Foragers: A Study of Prehistoric Decision MakingRobert Chapman, Emerging Complexity: The Later Prehistory of South-east Spain, Iberia

and the West Mediterranean

Nomads inarchaeology

Roger CribbCentral Land Council, Alice Springs

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PUBLISHED BY THE PRESS SYNDICATE OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGEThe Pitt Building, Trumpington Street, Cambridge, United Kingdom

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESSThe Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 2RU, UK40 West 20th Street, New York NY 10011-4211, USA477 Williamstown Road, Port Melbourne, VIC 3207, AustraliaRuiz de Alarcon 13,28014 Madrid, SpainDock House, The Waterfront, Cape Town 8001, South Africa

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Cambridge University Press 1991

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First published 1991Reprinted 1993First paperback edition 2004

National Library of Australia cataloguing in publication dataCribb, Roger. 1948-

Nomads in archaeology.Bibliography.Includes index.ISBN 0 521 32881 0 hardback1. Archaeology Methodology. 2. Nomads. 3. Turkey Antiquities. 4. IranAntiquities. I. Title. (Series:New studies in archaeology).

930.1

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Library of Congress cataloguing in publication dataCribb, Roger, 1948-

Nomads in archaeology.(New studies in archaeology)Includes bibliographical references.1. Nomads Turkey. 2. Nomads Iran. 3. Turkey Antiquities. 4. IranAntiquities. I. Title.

DR434.075 1990 935 89-25172

ISBN 0 521 32881 0 hardbackISBN 0 521 54579 X paperback

To my son, Thomas Hasan,and the memory of my father Thomas Henry

And so we moved over the earth;sometimes free, sometimes captive,conquering and conquered . . .To Anatolia we came,and before us rose Kayseri Mountain,Ararat, Siiphan, Nemrut, Binboga and Jilo mountains .They have driven us onto the dusty roads,They have cast us up into the snowcapped mountainsIn every province we abandoned a part of us,In every clime, in every tract of land,Discarded tents,forgotten,left to rot away . . .

(from The Legend of the Thousand Bullsby Yashar Kemal)

CONTENTS

List of illustrations ixList of tables xiiPreface xiii

1 Introduction 1Research objectives Ethnoarchaeology Geographical scope andenvironment

2 Origins and definitions 9Historical evidence Theories of nomadic pastoral origins The time frameNomadic pastoralism defined Hunter-gatherers and nomads compared

3 Nomad pastoral economy 23Nomadism and the integration of pastoralism and agriculture Factors ofproduction: the pastoral herd The pastoral mode of subsistence

4 Residence, descent and territory 44Nomad social organization The role of the tribe The tribe as a territorialsystem Nomadism as a cyclical phenomenon

5 Nomads - the invisible culture? 65Nomadism as an archaeological problem The organization of nomadmaterial culture The role of pottery in nomad material culture Stoneartifacts Stratigraphy and architectural remains The issue of 'householdimpedimenta' Conclusion

6 Nomad architecture and domestic space 84What is a tent? Types of nomad tents Fixtures Composite dwellingsTents and houses The spatial organization of the tent Indications ofwealth and status Towards a typology of dwelling forms Variation indwelling types over the seasonal cycle Long-term processes influencingdwelling forms

7 Ali;s camp: a nomad household campsite 113The region Past nomad populations A case study Instability andopportunism in southern Anatolian nomadism Ali's camp: site structure atthe household level Conclusion

Contents

8 The structure and location of nomad settlements 133Nomad settlement systems The internal structure of nomad campsites Theoverlap of nomad and sedentary settlement forms Camps and villagesConclusion

9 SanaydinYayla 162The camp and its inhabitants The domestic complex Quantitative analysisof discard Some implications for archeological investigation The domesticcomplex in context

10 The lost world of Nemrut Dag 185The setting Initial observations Interpretation of campsite ND-1 TheAlikanli: an ethnographic account ND-1 in retrospect: an informedreassessment Conclusion

11 Nomad archaeology: an assessment 212Tepe Tula'i Other evidence of possible tentsites The Early TranscaucasianCulture: a test case Future prospects

12 Towards a model of unstable set t lement systems 225Theoretical perspectives Comparative and diachronic approachesThe future

References 230

Glossary 245

Index 248

Vlll

ILLUSTRATIONS

1.1 General map of Middle East with historical andarchaeological sites and modern nomad groups 6

2.1 Interaction between mobility and mode of subsistence 173.1 Internal dynamics of the pastoral and agricultural modes of

subsistence in response to favourable and unfavourableconditions 24

3.2 Computer simulation of pastoral flocks showing the effect ofhigh kill-off of immature males 30

3.3 Computer simulation of different herd compositionssubjected to a sequence of adverse seasons 32

3.4 Nomadic migration in eastern Turkey 373.5 Distribution of household livestock ownership for Yoriiks

and Yomut Turkmen 434.1 Schematic diagram of levels in a nomad residence hierarchy 465.1 Sherds found in campsites in western and eastern Turkey TJ5.2 A large ceramic churn for yoghurt manufacture; from

western Iran in the last century 785.3 Grindstone and slabs from a campsite in eastern Turkey 795.4 Stratigraphic context revealed in a bread-oven pit, eastern

Turkey 815.5 A long-abandoned campsite in central Turkey 816.1 Ali;s tent, southern Turkey 856.2 A topak ev tent form from central Turkey 876.3 Black tents, eastern Turkey 876.4 Frame of an alacik from the Taurus Mountains, Turkey 896.5 Diagram of an alacik showing construction and internal

organization 906.6 Plastered stone hearth inside an alacik, southern Turkey 926.7 Stone-built fireplaces from tentsites in southern and eastern

Turkey 936.8 Plan of a tentsite with internal and external hearth, southern

Turkey 946.9 A long-abandoned tentsite with stone platform, southern

Turkey 956.10 Floorplans of tentsites and house employed by villagers in

western Iran 986.11 Floorplans and elevations of adjacent tentsite and hut from

Baluchistan 996.12 Variability in dwelling forms among the Beritanli, eastern

Turkey 102

ix

Illustrations

6.13 Seasonal variation in Yoriik tent plan and facilities 1046.14 A typology of dwelling forms: tents, composite dwellings

and houses 1066.15 Seasonal variation in dwelling form among villagers in

western Iran 1096.16 Schematic diagram of changes in dwelling form 1117.1 Regional map of the southern coast of Turkey around Silifke 1137.2 Plans of abandoned campsites around Karakegi, southern

Turkey 1167.3 Historical Yoriik migration routes in southern Turkey 1217.4 Ali's winter campsite 1227.5 Interior views of Ali;s dwelling 1237.6 Distribution of items in surface recording of Ali's camp 1257.7 Principal components analysis of spatial distributions at Ali;s

camp 1277.8 Spatial cluster analysis of distributions at Ali's camp 1297.9 Spatial patterning of distributions in relation to structures and

features of Ali's camp 1318.1 Abandoned Luri campsites, Zagros Mountains, Iran 1368.2 Campsite locations on mountain shelves, Turkey 1388.3 Principles of campsite spatial organization 1408.4 Variability in campsite organization among Bakhtiari

nomads 1428.5 Schematic diagram of the relationship between pasture lots

and the size of campsites 1438.6 A Kurdish camp in eastern Anatolia photographed in the

1930s showing stratified organization and linear structure 1488.7 Beritanh chiefly camp in eastern Anatolia 1498.8 Campsites located in association with ancient ruins, western

Iran and eastern Anatolia 1508.9 Plans of Luri encampments near archaeological mounds,

western Iran 1528.10 Village plans from Syria and Iraq 1599.1 General plan of Sanaydin Yayla 1639.2 An alacik at Sanaydin Yayla 1679.3 Floorplans of tents from Sanaydin Yayla {alacik) and a nearby

camp (black tents) 1689.4 General view of Sanaydin Yayla looking across Area A 1719.5 The domestic complex featuring structures and activities 1729.6 Plan of Area A, Sanaydin Yayla 1739.7 Distribution of items over recording zone A, Sanaydin Yayla 1749.8 Results of principal components and spatial clustering for

recording zone A 1779.9 Results of principal components and spatial clustering for

recording zone B 1799.10 Contoured distributions of items in Area A by 5 metre

quadrats 1809.11 Distribution of faunal remains in Area A, Sanaydin Yayla 181

10.1 Map of Nemrut Dag 18610.2 Abandoned campsite ND-1 from the north 18910.3 Plan of campsite ND-1, Nemrut Dag, together with floorplan

of tentsite 190

Illustrations

10.4 Estimation of household composition and social structure atND-1 194

10.5 Nomadic migration routes in the Lake Van region 19710.6 Changes in Alikanli tribal structure and residence hierarchy 20410.7 Plan of campsite ND-47 Nemrut Dag 20610.8 General view of ND-4, Nemrut Dag 20610.9 Members of the Alikan tribe outside the headman's tent,

Nemrut Dag 21111.1 Stone platforms and tent footings, Tepe Tula7i; Khuzistan 21311.2 Suspected ancient tentsites from Khuzistan 21711.3 A suspected nomad tentsite from the late Byzantine levels of

Han Ibrahim ah, eastern Anatolia 21911.4 Tent-like floorplans from the Early Transcaucasian Culture 22211.5 Changes in settlement structures, Early Transcaucasian

Culture 223

XI

TABLES

3.1 Comparative sizes of small stockholdings of households inNear Eastern communities 35

4.1 Functional properties of different levels of segmentation fornine Near Eastern tribal groups 50

5.1 Inventories of Near Eastern nomad and village materialculture 70

7.1 Classification of materials recorded at Ali's camp 1247.2 Nearest neighbour and segregation statistics for selected

materials at Ali;s camp 1267.3 Results of principal components analysis of Ali's camp 1277.4 Chi-square tests for significant difference between cluster

groups at Ali;s camp 1297.5 Faunal elements from recording zone at Ali's camp 1319.1 Nearest neighbour and segregation statistics for distributions

in recording zone A; Sanaydin Yayla 1759.2 Principal components analysis of recording zone A7 Sanaydin

Yayla 1759.3 Principal components analysis of recording zone B, Sanaydin

Yayla 1789.4 Comparisons between recording zones A and B 1799.5 Faunal elements in Area A, Sanaydin Yayla by anatomical

classes 1819.6 Chi-square tests for significant difference between domestic

complexes and special areas, in terms of faunal elementclasses 182

10.1 Estimated demographic composition of ND-1 19210.2 Demography and animal holdings for five wealth classes,

Alikanli 20410.3 Distribution of households (tents) over size classes of units,

Nemrut Dag 208

xn

PREFACE

The convergence of three long-standing interests - a fascination withAnatolia, the phenomenon of nomadism and commitment to the pro-gress of analytical archaeology - have come together in producing thisbook. Scattered observations during travels in Iran and Turkey during themid-1970s had convinced me that pastoral campsites provided an ideallaboratory in which to pursue certain strands of emerging middle rangetheory, particularly with respect to occupation floor models and sitestructure.

What might have been a detailed empirical study, carried out undercontrolled conditions in carefully selected sites, changed direction in thefield. Confronted with the realities of ethnoarchaeological research in themodern Near East, I was not only forced to be more eclectic in terms ofthe campsites studied, but was also encouraged to diversify, taking aninterest in Seljuk history and local history, ruined caravanserais and theaccounts of nineteenth-century travellers, together with neo-Marxistanthropology and quantitative techniques of spatial analysis. While I hadplanned for a more in-depth coverage of a single region or group ofnomads, there were compensations in the form of greater geographicalrange and diversity in the nomadic and semi-nomadic groups visited.

The beginning of my ethnoarchaeological fieldwork coincided to theday with the October 12 military coup in 1980 which put certain con-straints on my activities. Yet compared with other countries in the region,conditions in Turkey were quite favourable. Iran, in the midst of anIslamic revolution, was closed to foreign fieldworkers and the regions ofKhuzistan and Luristan, where so much recent nomad ethnoarchaeologyhas been carried out, are now a battlefield. Afghanistan is likewise in thegrip of war, and conditions on the peripheries of neighbouring states havebeen affected by this instability. It occurred to me that this is no accidentfor, as I shall argue later, nomads have been in part a response to - andalso frequent contributors to - such turbulent conditions since at least thebeginnings of civilization in the region. I began to realize that an archaeo-logical perspective on nomadism would have to come to terms with thesociopolitical factors which have influenced the extent and nature ofnomadism through time and that these same factors could be detected,albeit in static form, in numerous ethnographic accounts of nomads.

Many individuals have played a part in the genesis of this volume.Colin Renfrew has always been a source of inspiration and was neverslow to respond to my pleas for advice and direction from Ankara. Clive

xm

Preface xiv

Gamble, my supervisor at Southampton, was always on hand to get meover the rough patches. I am also grateful to the relentless Peter Ucko, notonly for a heavy hand during the dissertation years but also for extortingfunds from various sources on my behalf. Steve Shennan has helped tobring the study into focus and has assisted with sundry statistical andcomputer problems. Thank you also to the other post-graduate studentsat the Department of Archaeology, University of Southampton, par-ticularly Sarah Colley and Siriol Mynors who shared my ups and downsin the last frantic year of the doctoral dissertation. Without support fromthe University of Southampton Studentship the study could not havecontinued.

I recall with gratitude my colleagues from the Social Science Depart-ment at the Middle East Technical University in Ankara where I lecturedfor two years, and early discussions with a number of prominent Turkishscholars on this and related topics. Unpublished material and moral supportwas provided by Meral Ozbek, Giiven Guliiksoz and Iin Aricanli. Qoksagol to the villagers and nomads of Anatolia whose generosity and senseof humour made the experience of field work a rewarding one. I also owea great debt of gratitude to Giilgin Cribb who helped with the study inmany ways, large and small, and shared with me the rigours of Anatolianroads.

I am indebted to Tim Ingold for his comments on earlier drafts of thiswork. Robert Whallon and Frank Hole made available unpublished manu-scripts which greatly influenced my earlier approaches to the subject.Antonio Sagona of the University of Melbourne has generously providedmuch background material and feedback on the Early TranscaucasianCulture. Peter Andrews provided information on nomad architecture andalso supplied some of the photographs. I also benefited greatly from thedetailed comments of the late Professor Emrys Peters of Manchester, myexternal dissertation examiner.

Facilities and office resources for the preparation of this volume wereprovided by the Department of Anthropology and Sociology at the Uni-versity of Queensland.

1INTRODUCTIONPersian, I have never yet run from any man in fear and I am not doing so fromyou now. There is, for me, nothing unusual in what I have been doing: it isprecisely the kind of life I always lead, even in times of peace. If you want toknow why I will not fight, I will tell you. In our country there are no townsand no cultivated land; fear of losing which, or seeing it ravaged, might indeedprovoke us to hasty battle. If however you are determined upon bloodshed . . .one thing there is for which we will fight - the tombs of our forefathers. Findthose tombs and try to wreck them, and you will soon know whether or notwe are willing to stand up to you.

(Herodotus, The Histories, Book IV, 125)

The defiant reply of the Scythian chieftain Idanthyrsus to Darius, King ofPersia, contains a number of points of interest to any student of nomadicpastoralism as an anthropological and historical problem. The ceaselesscycle of mobility, the lack of fixed assets and the military advantageswhich flow from both - all are common themes in the anthropology ofNear Eastern nomadism. Historians receive the occasional glimpse ofnomadic cultures and life ways, such as the above. But, like Darius,archaeologists have had great difficulty in pinning down ancient nomads.Indeed for many years it seemed that the only archaeological traces ofnomadic cultures were likely to remain those mysterious tombs or kur-gans to which Idanthyrsus referred.

If, like Darius, we intend bringing nomads to boot, then we would dowell to concentrate not on the obvious manifestations of nomadic ma-terial culture - the tombs, the weapons, the works of art - but insteadattempt to understand nomadism as a phenomenon, as a system with itsown underlying dynamics and its correlates in space and time. HadDarius possessed such an understanding then he would perhaps not havebeen led such a merry chase; nor would his departure from the field havebeen quite as undignified. Likewise the uninformed archaeologist will beat the mercy of uncontrolled observations, chance encounters and tan-talizing glimpses from afar, remaining blissfully unaware of the largerpattern. He will most probably depart the field in equal disarray.

Research objectivesHigh in the Taurus Mountains of southern Turkey, looking down on anencampment of black tents drawn up in a valley 150 metres below, Ibegan to realize that the aim of my study was not the discovery of ancient


nomad cultures but something equally challenging. From my vantagepoint I could see that there was an underlying order in the location andorientation of tentsites. The layout of each tentsite and its associatedfeatures - forecourts, hearths, ash dumps, midden deposits - conformedto a single blueprint. I had seen and visited many such camps before andhad studied published photographs and plans of campsites from Moroccoto Afghanistan and Siberia to the Sudan, but perhaps not from quite thesame angle.

I was of course familiar with Yellen's (1977) ring model of !Kung settle-ments and Binford;s (1978a) Nunamiut hunting stand, but three thingsstruck me here. First, most of the structures and features I could observewere recoverable archaeologically. Second, there were at least three dis-tinct levels in the organization of the campsite: one set of rules governingthe layout of workspace and features with respect to the tent itself, an-other set controlling the location of tents vis-a-vis each other as well as theterrain, and another set of factors which dictated that the campsite shouldbe located here as opposed to a dozen other possible locations. Third, Iwas struck by how very different was the algebra underlying this patternfrom any of the other settlement systems documented by archaeologistsand by the impression - only a hypothesis at this stage - that the entirepattern was, in principle, deducible from what is known about the socialand economic organization of pastoral peoples.

The settlement pattern I was observing contained three interestingqualities: redundancy, 'grain7 and 'texture'. There was a high degree ofredundancy in the organization of household space. Each tent, togetherwith its work areas, features and facilities, was laid out apparently accord-ing to a single blueprint. The 'grain; was apparent in linear patterns in thelocation and orientation of tentsites forming parallel lines where possiblebut responding also to aspect and the lie of the land. The 'texture' of thesettlement was a regular alternation of living floors and open spaces.There appeared to be a simple grammar underlying the spatial organiza-tion of the campsite, an understanding of which would enable a re-searcher to both recognize and predict the layout of other campsites.Perhaps more importantly I began to perceive that this grammar was amanifestation of the wider organization of nomadic and pastoral life. Amethod of series of methods, perhaps a whole framework, would beneeded to explain why pastoral campsites should be distributed andorganized in such a characteristic way.

In common with other volumes in this series (Gould 1980; Torrence1986) this book is about the building of middle range theory. Middlerange theory involves the identification of key variables or indicators, theconstruction of valid instruments for the analysis of archaeological data(Binford 1983, p.129), the definition of units of analysis and the perceptionof appropriate scales of resolution for the solution of different problems.Middle range theory seeks to establish sets of variables which are knownto interact in a certain way for a wide range of problems, although theexact nature and extent of the interaction will vary with individualapplications. These do not constitute 'covering laws7 or 'laws of cultureprocess'. A law implies a certain relationship between components -E always equals me - whereas the most we can hope for in a subject like

Introduction

archaeology is some general statement that questions about energy willinvolve mass and some exponent of velocity.

Middle range theories are not just 'middle sized' theories or small theo-ries upon which larger theories may be built, but theories which occupy amid-point in the research process. If we wish to propose general theoriesabout raw materials procurement and exchange in cultures at differentlevels of complexity, then we may first need to recognize that the keyvariables involved include control over supply and production, efficiency,sophistication of technology, simplification, standardization and speciali-zation (Torrence 1986, pp.40-5). If an example of a 'law' is the formulafor relating floor size or settlement size to population (Narroll 1962; Cookand Heizer 1968) then a corresponding instance of middle range theory isthe recognition that settlement size and population size or density interactwith each other though the nature of this interaction varies at differentpopulation sizes and also in relation to external factors such as the modeof production (Fletcher 1981, p.98). Likewise the identification of domainsand modular units in David Clarke's (1972b) study of Iron Age Glaston-bury is a case of middle range theory employed in the wider task ofunderstanding the principles of Iron Age settlement systems. Essentially,middle range theory is not about laws, but about constructs and modelbuilding.

Since the inception of behavioural archaeology (Schiffer 1976) archae-ologists have begun to look at sites in a new way. While Schiffer'sapproach was mainly confined to the reconstruction of behaviouralevents and distinguishing behavioural from post-depositional processes,the behaviourist perspective does not exhaust the range of possibilitiesopened up by the new approach. Other studies have shifted the emphasisfrom patterning in 'primary' refuse to regularities in the distribution of'secondary' refuse (Schiffer 1972; Murray 1980), with a correspondingattention to the general 'maintenance of life-space' (Binford 1981) asopposed to the performance of specific tasks. If works as disparateas Yellen's (1977) account of !Kung campsites, Binford's (1978a) Eskimohunting stand, Flannery's (1976) Mesoamerican village, Kramer's (1979)Iranian villages, Hodder's (1982) accounts of East African settlements andDavid Clarke's (1972b) study of Glastonbury have anything in common,it is the central notion of site structure defined most recently as 'the spatialdistribution of artifacts, features and fauna on archaeological sites' (Bin-ford 1983, p.144). This definition is inadequate in that it is not so muchthe distributions themselves that are important as the spatial relationshipsbetween items and/or features and relationships between the factors orvariables that account for these visual patterns.

Any site may be envisaged as a set of items, artifacts or debris, organ-ized with respect to a set of features (Binford's 'framework'). Theunderlying control variables may be divided into: those relating to 'bodymechanics' (ibid., p. 145) or kinetics which may be presumed fairly con-stant across space and time; environmental variables involving terrain,aspect, shelter, etc., which will also be fairly constant depending on thepriorities of the site's inhabitants; and social or economic factors such askinship distance, wealth and status which may be expected to vary be-tween populations. Also present will be sets of variables which might be


termed 'cultural', and it is here that the greatest scope for variation occurs,particularly as the size and complexity of settlements increases. I amtherefore less sanguine than Binford (ibid., p. 146) about being able todecipher all the information 'coded into the organization of site structure7.Cultural variables in particular are liable to produce variations in form andscale which will prove resistant to the application of 'laws;. In any par-ticular case it will therefore be necessary to understand the unique pat-terns introduced by cultural factors in addition to those accountable bykinetic, environmental and social factors.

This approach to site structure implies a form of 'structuralism', whichshould however be distinguished from the 'structuralisme7 (Gellner 1982)of the so-called cognitive school. We are concerned with pattern andredundancy in spatial form and relationships without necessarily readinginto this any notions of essentialism, that such forms 'have deep naturesor constitutions or inner essences7 (ibid., p.99). Of course the kind ofmiddle range theory advocated here could just as well be pressed into theservice of 'structuraliste' or cognitive theories about human spatial behav-iour, as attempted in numerous works by Hodder (e.g. 1982). The conceptof site structure can be used with equal effect to support arguments abouton-site behaviour and the organization of activity space on the one hand,and theories of spatial patterning based on conceptual or ritual systems onthe other. A concern with site structure need not commit the archaeolo-gist to any stance at the 'grand theory' level. However it does presupposethe use of a range of techniques for the detection and analysis of spatialpatterning, which in turn place certain demands on the conduct of exca-vation and the manner in which data are defined, recorded, stored andprocessed (see Winter 1976; Bogucki and Grygiel 1981; Ammerman et al.1978).

If the New Archaeology of the late 60s and early 70s taught us anythingit was that data do not exist as a priori facts but are the result of constructswhich researchers use in approaching their raw material, and reflect notonly the researcher's aims and presuppositions but also the general para-digm within which he or she operates. Currently a range of statisticaltechniques is being developed for the analysis of intra-site and regionalspatial patterning (Hodder and Orton 1976; Orton 1980, 1982; Kintighand Ammerman 1982; Whallon 1973, 1974, 1984). Attempts are evenbeing made to address the difficult question of quantifying relationshipsbetween features and item distributions (Simek 1984). At the same timerevolutions are occurring in the computer storage of spatial information.Unfortunately excavation technology and organization generally lagbehind these trends, and much of the current effort in the development ofsite structure models has been directed into ethnoarchaeological work.

EthnoarchaeologyLike many other students of site structure I have been forced to confrontthe issue of the role of ethnoarchaeology. Our discipline recently wentthrough a decade of an almost indecent concern with the use of ethno-graphic analogy (Binford 1972a; 1972b; 1972c; Chang 1967). While

Introduction

recourse to ad hoc ethnographic parallels will no doubt continue to informand misinform archaeologists for years to come (Ucko 1969), argumentsby ethnographic analogy have no place in middle range theory. The closeassociation of middle range theory and ethnoarchaeology derives not somuch from the use of ethnographic analogy to predict the past (Binford1967; Durrenberger and Morrison 1977; Orme 1973; Allen and Richard-son 1971; Gummerman and Phillips 1978) but from the fact that ethno-graphic settings provide an optimal environment in which to identify andstudy the behaviour of key variables, refine measuring instruments andisolate appropriate analytical units. The ethnographic setting may belikened to a laboratory in which phenomena are studied under controlledconditions. The application of constructs, instruments and models soderived to 'real7 archaeological problems and data has nothing to do withethnographic analogy. Nor is there any necessity that they be derived fromethnographic contexts. One of the most elegant middle range models,Clarke's (1972b) 'modular unit7, was derived almost entirely fromarchaeological data, with a little help from Roman ethnohistory. Yellen's(1977) !Kung campsites were archaeological in the sense that most ofthem had no recorded systemic context, and this was true also of some ofmy abandoned nomad camps.

Binford's (numerous publications) view of ethnoarchaeology as alaboratory for generating middle range theory by studying the relation-ship between archaeological 'statics7 and the 'dynamics' of a living systemis a useful one. But it should not be forgotten that dynamic relationshipscan also be studied through archaeological data, and that these data, asopposed to the physical remains in the archaeological record, are neverreally 'static7. There is no reason why the study of dynamics should beconfined to the ethnographic domain, although it is certainly true thatunderstanding the operations of dynamic systems in the present can assistgreatly in imparting form and meaning to archaeological residues.

In documenting the spatial organization of contemporary nomads I amnot attempting to map this organizational structure onto ancient nomads.I am suggesting that in prospecting for nomad sites we need to designsurveys with regard to certain factors: that, for example, temporal andspatial variations in both the permanency of dwellings and the physicallayout of settlements have a bearing on the detection of regional tenden-cies towards nomadization or sedentarization; that the investigation ofsuspected pastoral or nomadic sites will be more informative if certainkinds of study units and sampling schemes are employed and particularforms of spatial analysis applied. Investigations along these lines may wellpoint to a system organized in a similar fashion to those observed today -analogy, or to something quite different, anomaly (Gould 1980) - butwhatever the outcome it is the tools forged in the ethnographic setting whichare imported into the past, not that setting itself.

As a laboratory for the development of middle range theory pastoralcampsites present certain obvious advantages. Campsites that are aban-doned, but still active may be studied without the impediments imposedby continuous occupation. Campsites may be studied while occupied aswell as in various stages of abandonment - i.e. they may be observed inboth systemic and archaeological context, enabling us to move from the


Fig. 1.1 General Map ofMiddle East with historicaland archaeological sitesand modern nomadgroups. Modern campsitesmentioned in connectionwith this study are alsoshown, distinguishedaccording to winter orsummer camps.

realm of statics to dynamics and back again with relative ease. Althoughmy own observations were confined to a few years, the long-term studyof single campsite locations offers the prospect of detecting diachronicvariations in discard patterns, architecture, settlement plans and intensityof use. As Binford (1983, p.397) has recently observed, while site structurehas been approached in terms of seasonal and functional variations,There has however been essentially no discussion of long term patternsof change in the disposition of a complete system in space7.

Geographical scope and environmentBefore moving on to an account of contemporary nomadic pastoral sys-tems it is necessary to define the geographical scope of the study. Whileevidence is drawn from the entire area of the Near East and Central Asia,from the Atlas Mountains to the Altai, the core area, for which the con-clusions reached in the course of this study are held to be valid, is themountain arc of the Taurus and Zagros, covering much of modern Turkeyand Iran, together with associated low and high altitude steppelands (seeFig. 1.1).

Introduction

During one of my sojourns in a summer campsite some 1,500 metresup in the Taurus Mountains, a small shepherd boy brought me a piece ofrock, explaining that it contained eski Musiilman sanat (ancient Islamicartworks). The delicate patterns inscribed in the stone were indeed remi-niscent of the kind of intricate inscriptions and miniatures found inmosques, but the whole composition could be identified as a starfish, afossil from an ancient Miocene sea. Other marine fossils of seashells andmolluscs were common in rocks all over the campsite. Some millions ofyears ago, during the Miocene era, the tectonic plates supporting Africaand Eurasia began to come into collision, with the Arabian plate caught inbetween. The tremendous forces involved have raised the great mountainchains of the European Alps, the Taurus and the Zagros, across to theHindu Kush and Himalayas, where similar processes are under wayinvolving the Indian Subcontinent.

Along much of the length of the Taurus Mountains a cross-sectionthrough the ranges follows the following sequence. Fairly precipitouslimestone hills or karst formations, trending in an east-west direction, risedirectly out of the sea or the coastal plain, cut by the deep gorges ofstreams whose catchments lie in sheltered valleys to their north. Behindthis initial barrier rises an even higher escarpment with the limestone

KEYtribal

summer fr migrationcamp routesspring/ o D town, cityautumn campwinter camp x archaeological

sitemodern A ancient camp-village site

THE TAURUS - ZAGROS ARC

LOCATION OF NOMAD CAMPSITES AND OTHER SITES

0 50 100 200 300 kmG u l f

Bartholomews 1: 4 000 000


giving way to granite and more gently rounded summits, falling on theirnorthern slopes to low foothills and the vast sweep of the AnatolianPlateau. Rising directly out of these steppelands are the great volcaniccones from Emir and Hasan Dag in the west, to Erciyas, Nemrut, Siiphanand Agri Dag in the east, thrown up by disturbances deep in the subduc-tion zone where the African plate plunges beneath the Eurasian one. Tothe east, where the mountain chains begin to sweep around to a north-west-southeast direction, rises the limestone massif of the Jilo Mountains,a tangled maze of saw-toothed ridges and deep abysses. While a certainamount of shearing and slippage occurs along the Taurus section of thearc, in western Iran the tectonic plates meet head on, producing down-warping in Mesopotamia and the Persian Gulf and setting up a series ofparallel ripples running from northwest to southeast, each a little higherthan the previous one, culminating in the snow-capped peaks of theZagros. Again the relatively open terrain of the higher altitudes, or thrustzone (Gilbert 1983), contrasts with the convoluted limestone ridges anddeep, sunless gorges at the lower altitudes (Sunderland 1968).

The implications for human settlement of such a landscape have beenconsiderable. From very early times until the present, population has beenconcentrated on the plateau or the coastal plain and Mesopotamia. More-over the mountain chains have served as significant cultural barriers,though by no means impenetrable ones. In sharp contrast to the situationin Arabia and Central Asia, the major access routes through the ranges, bywhich trade and communications are carried on, also serve as the migra-tion routes of nomads, bringing them into continual contact with seden-tary society. It is the character of this interaction, as much as the greatenvironmental and seasonal contrasts, which has influenced nomad socialstructures and settlement systems.

2ORIGINS ANDDEFINITIONSThe weapon is his companion . . .Who knows no submission,Who eats uncooked flesh,Who has no house in his lifetime.

(from a Sumerian text, in Chiera 1924, p.20)

While the quest for the origins of nomadic pastoralism is not the centraltheme of this work, the issue must be raised if only because it has formedthe focus of so much archaeological work. Yet the origins of nomadismmay not be of quite the same significance as other origins - such as theorigins of food production and of urban life. In the latter instances we aredealing with major systems transformations which require extremelycomplex explanations and models and which are part of a general trendtowards organizational complexity and increased energy capture. Theadvent of nomadic pastoralism has its place in all this but if; as suggestedearlier, it is peripheral to the main line of cultural evolution, then it maynot require the same level of explanation. Perhaps nomadic pastoralismcannot be said to have had a precise origin, or perhaps it has had manyorigins in many places and at different times. If, as argued by some(Khazanov 1984; Gilbert 1983; and also in this work), nomadism is anunstable and fluctuating phenomenon involving a heavy commitment topastoralism, then we would be far better off studying those sets of condi-tions under which it emerges or declines than in searching for origins orbuilding causal models.

A good starting point would be to define the necessary conditions for theexistence of nomadic pastoralism. These include the presence of suitableanimal species, a suitable physical environment for the maintenance ofthese species and the appropriate technology and social relations fordomestication and continuous herding. The period in cultural evolution atwhich all these conditions were fulfilled may be taken as the predictedbaseline for the subsequent appearance and reappearance of nomadicpastoralism. Yet existing theories of nomadic origins have tended to con-centrate around two periods. It has been argued, most frequently by socialanthropologists and historians, that nomadism is a consequence of thespecialization and integration of pastoralism and cultivation which was

Nomads in archaeology 10

only possible with the development of complex (i.e. urban) societies (Leesand Bates 1974; Khazanov 1984, etc.). Others, predominantly archaeolo-gists (Hole 1978; Gilbert 1983), have pushed the search for nomadic ori-gins far back into the neolithic.

Historical evidenceAlthough accounts of ancient Near Eastern history often seem to assumethe presence of a fluid, peripheral and mobile pastoral population, theyare rarely explicit on this point. To the extent that recognizably nomadicgroups appear at all it is generally within the context of the wider politicaldesigns of neighbouring states whose sources tend to stress administra-tive categories rather than economic or social ones. Apart from termsloosely translatable as Sandbewohner, Wilden, Zeltwohnern, Wandernand Raubern (Vardiman 1977, p.22), there seems to be no ancient termwhich conveys the exact sense of 'nomad'. Even today, terms whichinitially conveyed the meaning 'nomad7 have taken on an increasinglyethnic flavour. For instance, the term Baluchi was originally employed bysettled populations to refer to all nomads, but as many nomads settled theterm remained as an ethnic designation (Spooner 1969, p. 150). The Turk-ish word ydrtik (wanderer) has also assumed a quasi-ethnic character. It ispossible that a purely economic distinction between nomad and seden-tary, pastoralist and cultivator, was not considered relevant in the past -at least to those who kept the records.

The earliest documentation of something resembling nomadism in theNear East concerns groups coming under the blanket term Amorites.These appear to have been a highly mobile, semitic-speaking populationoccupying the margins of the Fertile Crescent in the first half of thesecond millennium BC (Oppenheim 1977; Girshman 1964; Albright 1940,p.109) (see Fig. 2.1). They are described as keeping large herds of cattle,sheep, goats and asses (ibid., p.122) which confirms a pastoral emphasis,but not necessarily nomadism. Mural paintings from the 1,900 BC site ofBeni Hasan portrayed a tribal chieftain named Absha with his retinueof kinsmen armed with throwing sticks and javelins and a baggage trainof asses (Patai 1951, p.404). This could well be a nomadic group in migra-tion, but there is no corresponding evidence for large flocks in attendance.

It has been suggested (Roux 1966, p. 138) that the Amorites - or at leastlarge sections of them - practised a form of sheep nomadism analogous tothat pursued by modern Bedouin. Valuable insights into this period (circa1,750 BC) have been obtained from archives discovered at Mari on theUpper Euphrates. Interpretations of these sources (Luke 1965; Rowton1973, 1974) point to a small, vigorous kingdom deriving its income fromriver trade, intensive riverine agriculture and extensive pastoralism. Sur-rounding peoples, of an evidently tribal character - the Haneans, Suteansand Jamenites - appear to have been under varying degrees of politicalcontrol. The Haneans, who seem to have formed the tribal power base forthe ruling dynasty, displayed a 'semi-nomadic; pattern of residence inriverside villages, cultivating during the summer months and migratinginto the steppe and northwards into the Khabur Valley during winter. The

Origins and definitions 11

other groups appear to have had more extensive migrations, taking thembeyond the authority of the King of Mari for much of the year (Luke1965). Extensive surveys and excavations in the Khabur Valley (Mallowan1977; Oates 1976) have however failed to reveal any traces of pastoralcampsites, though none were explicitly sought. Dramatic shifts in thezone of settlement within this area suggested to Oates (1976, p.235) thatagriculture and large-scale settlement was only possible when stateauthority was able to resist nomad incursions. The period covered by theMari archives was apparently a low point for settlement in the Khaburbasin.

Similarly the advent of dark ages has led historians and historicalarchaeologists to put forward nomad invasions as an explanation. Thisapproach is epitomized in a volume entitled Dark Ages and Nomads, 1000BC (Mellink (ed.) 1964) based largely on chronological arguments andexotic artworks. The theoretical poverty of this approach has led onereviewer (Barnett 1968) to remark: 'Yet a nagging doubt remains. Darkages certainly, but nomads? Was the question precisely enough formu-lated, if at all?7 A useful critique of this and other migrationist themes iscontained in a review article by Adams et al. (1978).

Apart from lists of spoils, including large numbers of livestock taken onAssyrian or Hittite raiding expeditions, little is known of the subsistencebase of the peoples inhabiting the Zagros and Taurus Mountains wheremost of the contemporary nomads appearing in this study are located.These people of the hills, the Gutians, Kassites, Hurrians, Mannai andLullubi, make fleeting appearances in Mesopotamian and Anatolian his-tory as maurauders, founders of dynasties and victims of Assyrian razzias.Archaeological evidence from settled sites in the region confirms anemphasis on pastoral production (Levine and Cuyler-Young (eds.) 1977)but beyond that we cannot go.

People of known nomadic affinities, the Scythians, Cimmerians andSarmatians, erupt fleetingly onto the scene. Historical references to themare common, and there are some indications of economic and domesticlife. For instance Strabo describes the Sarmatians as '(partly) nomads andothers tent-dwellers and farmers7 (Khazanov 1984), while Herodotus (IV,p. 105) reveals considerable variability in the extent of pastoralism prac-tised by various Scythian tribes. But apart from a few arrowheads andisolated hoards (Phillips 1972; Mellink (ed.) 1964) all attempts to pin themdown to recognizable assemblages or settlements have been inconclusive.They are still best known from the royal tombs to the north of our studyarea, although recent excavations in the Soviet Union have revealed whatappear to be the remains of open campsites (Shilov, unpublished paper,World Archaeology Congress, 1986).

A form of Bedouin nomadism in the piedmont zone at the foot of theTaurus Mountains was documented in Roman times (Peters 1978) duringwhich the north-south migratory cycle occasionally interfered with themajor trade routes running east-west. This is in the same region as thekingdom of Mari, arguing for a continuity of pastoral and possiblynomadic tendencies from very early historical times.

Historical accounts during the Islamic Period (AD 1,000 to 1,900) pro-vide secure evidence for a substantial nomadic presence in large areas of


the Near East, particularly during the Turkic and Mongol incursions dur-ing the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries AD (Cahen 1968;Minorsky 1978; Turan 1971; Siimer 1980). At the time of the initial Seljukmigrations into Iran and northern Mesopotamia there is some evidence ofindigenous migratory pastoralism in the Zagros and Taurus foothills andconflict over the control of pasture between the new immigrants andoriginal occupants (Lambton 1973; Bos worth 1973).

The question of the presence of ancient nomadic groups, howeverthese are defined, in the mountain regions of the Near East is left un-resolved by the available historical evidence. There is enough evidence toencourage further investigation and to point to archaeology as the prin-cipal medium of inquiry.

Theories of nomadic pastoral originsLees and Bates (1974) propose a model according to which an initialpattern of mixed dry farming and subsistence pastoralism is graduallyreplaced by a more specialized form of cultivation based on canal irriga-tion. The new system supports an increased population and, as it islabour-intensive, problems occur in the scheduling of agricultural andpastoral activities. As a consequence pastoralism becomes confined to themore marginal steppe and mountain regions where seasonal migrationsof greater amplitude become necessary, but is assured of a future throughthe demand for specialized pastoral products from the heavily populatedareas. Increasingly asymmetric power relations develop between the dis-tinct populations associated with each mode of subsistence and, by dintof their military capabilities, nomads are sometimes able to extend politi-cal control over settled communities while the latter tend to dominate theeconomic and cultural spheres.

A slightly different scheme involving nomadization by default has beenput forward independently by Adams (1974), Wright (1977, p.388), Flan-nery (1972) and Spooner (1972, p.126). With the intensification of irriga-tion agriculture, those who were unable to cope successfully with thechange might be tempted to fall back on their pastoral resources - eithertemporarily until new agricultural opportunities emerged or permanentlyas specialized pastoralism became a viable strategy. This model may bepartly subsumed by that of Lees and Bates.

A further variant of the Lees and Bates hypothesis has been proposedby Irons (1975), and supported by Gilbert (1983), in which the growth ofurban centres in the Zagros highlands created an increased demand forpastoral products, leading to a section of the population engaging in trans-humant pastoralism and ultimately nomadism. Interestingly Gilbert(1983) argues that it is the reduction in the pastoral sector, relativelyspeaking, which has the effect of creating scarcity, raising the relativeprice of animal products and opening up a niche for nomadic entrepreneurs.

Some empirical support for these views comes from Hole's (1977) studyof prehistoric sites in the Deh Luran Plain. He argues that an intrusivepopulation of irrigation agriculturalists originating from northern Meso-potamia moved down the Assyrian Steppe in a steady wave of advance


(see Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforza 1973). By about 6,000 BC the indig-enous mixed dry farming and herding subsistence pattern was displacedinto areas unsuitable for irrigation:

Once the higher and more dependable yields of irrigation agriculturewere recognized it would be a simple step to remove most of theherding to the margins of the plain and the significantly better pas-tures in the mountains. Such a physical separation would have ben-efitted farming and herding by Keeping animals out of the fields andby allowing them to graze in cooler, lusher pastures. It is notable howmuch larger the animals kept by nomads today are than those keptyear round in Deh Luran.

(Hole 1977, p.14)The increased productivity of irrigated land then led to a greater all-rounddependency on cereal resources, not only by sedentary villagers but alsoby pastoralists who now began to concentrate on renewable productssuch as milk and wool as selection for these physiological capacities oc-curred. These products could then be exchanged for cereals to augmentthe small quantities of winter wheat grown by the pastoralists. The com-bination of pastoralism and limited dry farming is a subsistence strategycommonly employed by nomads today.

Schaffer (1972) also proposes a model of dual specialization for theSistan region of eastern Iran. This developmental model begins with irri-gation agriculture supporting village and incipient urban settlementsalong limited strips of alluvial land. With increased growth, the surpluspopulation begins to occupy the arid periphery by exploiting thinlyspread pastoral resources and adopting a mobile lifestyle. These ideas arereminiscent of the conclusions reached by Masson (1972) for the nearbyregion of Soviet Turkmenia. However Schaffer adds a further twist. Sub-sequent population increase is accommodated by agricultural intensi-fication and urbanization which are both facilitated by the ready-maderegional communication network established by the nomads. Nomadshave even been credited with playing a vital role in the rise of civilizationand state formation. During the Uruk period, according to Johnson (1973,p.159):

coordination of local production and seasonal exchange with herdersmay thus . . . have increased decision-making requirements to thepoint that an expanded decision-making organization [the incipientstate] was necessary.

In a similar vein, Wright (1977, p.338) speculates:Could an increase in the number of pastoralists appearing every win-ter in the lowlands put pressure on the regulatory institutions of thesettled enclaves?

Ancient trade has long been linked with the activities of nomads. Eversince Perrot (1962) noticed that the distribution of traded goods in theneolithic Levant and Syria closely followed modern Bedouin migrationroutes, speculations along these lines have abounded. There is some his-torical evidence (Klengel 1977, p.164; Khazanov 1984, p.209) that pas-toralists were already involved in the caravan trade of southwest Asia bythe Middle and Late Bronze Age (second millennium BC) though chiefly


as guides and escorts but; as Khazanov (ibid., p.211) points out; they'neither created this trade nor did they determine its development and itsfortune7. There are certainly contemporary examples of nomadic pastoral-ists-cum-traders (Ferdinand 1962), and most nomads have a keen interestin trade as consumers. But attempts by archaeologists to invoke nomadsas active agents in the long-distance movement of commodities and dis-semination of 'information7 (Wright 1969; Schaffer 1972), or to detect thepresence of ancient nomads by following the pattern of traded goods(Crawford 1978), are far from convincing. Underlying most of thesenomad-trader schemes is the assumption of an underlying commerce in'ideas7 (e.g. Hole et al. 1969, p.354). However there is little in contempo-rary accounts to point to nomads as an ideal medium for such exchanges.

Attempts to identify nomadic cultures with certain material complexeshave rarely been successful. The widespread dissemination of ceramicstyles over the Sistan region, attributed to nomad entrepreneurs using thevessels as containers (Schaffer 1972), could easily be accounted for byother mechanisms. The rapid spread of black burnished pottery, togetherwith other elements of the Early Transcaucasian Culture in the thirdmillennium BC, has also been linked to nomadic migrations (Burney1961; Whallon and Kantman 1969, p.130). However the Early Trans-caucasian Culture is now known to contain a full range of settlementtypes from villages to cities and, while indicators of a mobile lifestyle arepresent, this is hardly a nomadic culture (see Chapter 11).

All of the above scenarios have much in common. All take a holistic orsystems approach to the question of origins. All emphasize specializationand integration, with only Lees and Bates raising the question of asym-metries in power. Interestingly all seem to associate the appearance andenhancement of nomadic tendencies with the growth of sedentary popu-lations and the expansion of urban centres. While it is certainly difficult toimagine nomadic pastoralists existing entirely independently of settledand urban communities, as Khazanov (1984) and many others have sug-gested, I believe that the above scenarios are to some extent based on amisunderstanding of how pastoral nomad and sedentary systems interact.This in turn may stem from the mistaken concern with the search fororigins mentioned above.

If nomadism is to be understood as an alternative specialization whicharises under certain economic and sociopolitical conditions rather than adiscrete system which somehow evolved, then we would expect theseconditions to follow from the above explanations. We would expect ten-dencies towards the consolidation of state power, economic integrationand the spread of cultivation to be associated with an increase in nomadicactivity and in the degree of specialization in pastoralism. While this mayhave been true of the initial establishment of nomadic systems in previ-ously unoccupied marginal environments, such a correlation does notseem to hold for long-term interactions between the sedentary and no-madic sectors. In Chapters 4 and 5 I will attempt to outline why this is so,drawing on ethnohistorical sources as well as a host of ethnographicobservations which, though synchronic in character, nevertheless suggestthe presence of underlying diachronic tendencies.


The time frameIt is intriguing that, while the models dealt with above apply to timeperiods ranging over four millennia, much the same systemic factors arementioned in each case. In fact for Luristan and the middle Zagros Moun-tains nomadism appears to have had at least two origins, the first in theseventh millennium BC (Hole 1977; Goff 1966, 1981) and the second inthe third millennium (Gilbert 1983). Moreover a third origin has beenproposed for the region in the first millennium BC, involving the immi-gration of 'real7 nomads from further north to replace existing semi-nomads (Khazanov 1984, p.7).

Much of this confusion arises from the difficulties of adequately defin-ing nomadism as well as the nature of the data involved. Those authorswho draw on archaeological and subsistence data tend to place the pointof origin earlier, while those concerned with historical and ethnohistoricaldata prefer later dates. In particular many students of Central Asiannomadism tend to identify its origins with the first historical sourceseither from southwest Asia or China (Lattimore 1951; de Planhol 1959)and to see the origins of southwest Asian nomadism in terms of mi-gration from Central Asian heartlands: 'In the first centuries of the last1000 years BC the pastoralists and semi-nomads of the previous thousandyears BC began to be replaced in certain cultural areas of western Asia byreal nomads who were often migrants from other areas7 (Khazanov 1984,p.7). Where 'real7 nomads are defined in terms of complex sets of politicaland socioeconomic criteria, the problems of detection for the prehistorianare considerable. Evidence for developed pastoralism and seasonal habita-tion are insufficient to meet such definitions. In my view we should ceaseasking 'Were prehistoric mobile pastoralists real nomads?7 in terms ofethnographically derived models, and instead begin to ask to what extentcan we evaluate certain key dimensions in production, mobility and set-tlement in prehistoric pastoral and agro-pastoral cultures? The paralleldevelopment and interplay of cultivation and pastoralism (Reed 1959;Sherratt 1981) in the Near Eastern food-producing revolution suggest thatthese key dimensions were present from a very early date.

Nomadic pastoralism definedThe time at which nomadism is perceived as originating depends on one'sdefinition of nomadism. Any such definition must involve the key factorsof pastoralism and mobility, and it is the weighting given to each of theseand the way in which they are measured that give rise to the manydifferent approaches. Khazanov (1984, p.7) defines nomadism as: 'a dis-tinct form of food-producing economy in which extensive mobile pas-toralism is the predominant activity and in which the majority of thepopulation is drawn into periodic pastoral migrations7. His approachapproximates that employed here in that he gives due weighting to 'theratio of pastoralism and agriculture7 (ibid., p.9) rather than the extent ofmobility per se.


However difficulties with the scheme employed by Khazanov arisewhen he attempts to circumscribe and classify nomadism. An exacting setof requirements needs to be met before any group is allowed as 'realnomads7. Pastoral specialists in mixed farming are not regarded as no-madic because this represents a division of labour within the same societywhile nomadism requires a division of labour between different societies(ibid., p.18). 'Pure7 nomads are marked by a complete absence of agricul-ture, even in a supporting role; and are thereby confined to pockets in theEurasian inner highlands and steppes, Arabia and the Sahara. Most of thepeoples described as nomadic by Near Eastern ethnographers are classi-fied as 'semi-nomadic pastoralists' characterized by extensive pastoralismin conjunction with supplementary agriculture (ibid., p. 19). 'Semi-sedentary pastoralism' or herdsman husbandry is village-based, whileyaylag pastoralism is a specialized mountain form of herdsman husbandry(ibid., p. 23). Forms of 'household husbandry7 with or without intensivefodder feeding are fully integrated at the household level (ibid., p.24).However 'semi-nomads' are further classified into those who are special-ized at the family level and those specialized at the 'sub-society7 level(ibid., p.20). To my mind such complicated and rigid typologies could beeasily replaced by a single dimension specifying the level - household,village, tribal section, region - at which specialization occurs. The searchfor a fully nomadic society should be abandoned in favour of an approachwhich recognizes nomadic tendencies manifested in varying degrees in awide range of societies and communities.

Nomadic pastoralism is a dual concept comprising two logically inde-pendent dimensions - nomadism and pastoralism. Within each of thesedimensions dualisms such as nomadic/sedentary, agricultural/pastoral,the desert and the sown, perpetrate gross distortions of our ability tounderstand the relationship between the two. Each dimension may beviewed as a continuum, and the relationship between them is best rep-resented in terms of a probability space (see Fig. 2.1) in which groups orindividuals are uniquely located with respect to each axis.

While the pastoral/agricultural and nomadic/sedentary dimensionsmust be distinguished conceptually, this need not imply that groups orindividuals are necessarily randomly located within this probability space.In fact, as indicated by the location of the groups shown in Fig. 2.1, thereappears to be a strong linear relationship between the two. The greaterthe degree of pastoralism, the stronger the tendency towards nomadism.The association between pastoralism and nomadism is recognized implic-itly in the statements of some of my informants in Anatolia: 'We haveonly 20 goats so we stay around the village, but cross-eyed Ahmet has 100sheep and goats so he goes each summer to Sultan Dag. The more ani-mals you have, the further you have to move/ I do not hesitate to discussvillage pastoralism and nomadic pastoralism as part of a single phenomenonfor, while the two represent very different solutions, they are neverthelesssolutions in terms of the same system of constraints and opportunities. Intackling the problem of Near Eastern nomadism, the village herd may notbe such a bad place to begin.


Fig. 2.7 Interaction betweenmobility and mode ofsubsistence. Schematicdiagram showing a degreeof correlation betweenthe two variables. Theapproximate locations of anumber of communitiesmentioned in the text areindicated with respect toboth axes.

Lurs''

MODE OF /SUBSISTENCEAgriculture

Hasanabad

Shahabad

Fullynomajijc^lfkanli )

s'' Karakeqi;;

Sanaydin # Shirdasht

Mixed // Pastoralism

Fullysedentary

MOBILITY

zone of high interaction

communities mentionedin text

PastoralismPastoralists have been defined as 'those who are dependent chiefly ontheir herds of domestic stock for subsistence' (Krader 1959, p.499). Thisdefinition implies ownership and should also include an element of mutu-alism as the animals involved are also dependent on humans (Ingold1980). Pastoralism is only one of the possible modes of exploiting herdanimals - hunting and ranching are others (ibid., 1980) - characteristicallyinvolving protection of the herd and systematic consumption of itsrenewable products.

However while some (e.g. Bates 1971, p.112, 1972, p.52; Vincze 1980,p.392; Goldschmidt 1979, p.16; Ingold 1980, pp.2, 25) refer to pastoralismas a 'mode of production', I prefer, in view of the particular connotationsgiven the term by Marxist theory, to substitute the term 'mode of sub-sistence7. By 'mode of subsistence7 is meant: 'some configuration ofproductive forces and relations permitting the exploitation of naturalresources and reproduction of the social groups involved' (Cribb 1984b,p.4). It does not extend to the relations of production above the reproduc-tion of the community itself, and does not involve the 'mode of appropri-ating surplus labour7 so essential to a Marxist analysis (see Hindnessand Hirst 1975; Friedman 1974; Godelier 1977; Parsons (ed.) 1978). Thus a


pastoral mode of subsistence may coexist with an agricultural mode ofsubsistence - perhaps involving the same social group or specialized sec-tors within a single community - under a wider mode of production. Bythe same token it would be possible to consider two forms of pastoralismoperating under different modes of production - for example, pastoralismduring the Seljuk period and that of the twentieth century - as part of asingle mode of subsistence. There are certainly plenty of examples ofadjacent nomads and peasants, or of pastoralists and cultivators withinthe same village (Sweet 1975), employing different tools and techniques,distributing land and animals according to different systems of allocation,yet who are integrated into a wider regional economy and subject toappropriation by the same ruling class whether a landed, pastoral or urbanelite (see Lambton 1953; Rosenfeld 1965; W. Swidler 1972).

Groups (or individuals) may therefore be ranked along an agricultural-pastoral continuum according to different criteria such as the overall levelof pastoral production or the extent to which their livelihood is metthrough pastoral as opposed to other modes of subsistence. Small num-bers of livestock may be kept by cultivators without necessarily bringinginto play all the elements of a pastoral mode of subsistence. Howeverincreasing emphasis on pastoral production, accompanied by a rise in thenumber of animals herded, will require specialized forms of animal man-agement and changes in household organization. The full expression ofsuch a tendency towards pastoral accumulation will ultimately involve ahousehold in the kinds of logistics and social networks characterized as'nomadic'.

NomadismWhile nomadism need not imply a lack of patterned movement or fixedmigration cycle as suggested by some (Gulliver 1958), neither does itexactly connote a 'fixed round of movement . . . a cyclical or rhythmicmovement' as suggested by Krader (1959, p.499). The presence of a regu-lar, seasonal cycle of movement - universally attested to in the Near Eastand also Central Asia (see Vainshtein 1980, pp.96-7) - should be regardedas a necessary but by no means a sufficient condition for the full expressionof nomadism. Viewed in the short term it is understandable why so muchweight has been placed on the seasonal cycle and regular migrationtracks. Such regularities loom large within the scope of the ethnographictime frame. Yet in study after study there emerge instances of departuresfrom regular migration routes or situations in which access to these routesis only tenuously maintained (e.g. Bates 1972; Irons 1975). While thepolitical ramifications of such events have been discussed (Bates 1972), theimplications for patterns of mobility have not been explored. Viewed overthe long term it becomes clear that small perturbations in seasonal migra-tion tracks could eventually build into wholesale shifts in the distributionof migratory groups. It is this latter tendency which I would regard asbeing characteristically 'nomadic'.

A useful distinction might be drawn between forms of tied or tetherednomadism (Ingold 1987, p. 184), fixed to a well-worn migration track, anduntied nomadism, in which shifts into new migration tracks are frequent.


Again, however, it is not difficult to see, over an extended time frame,how the former condition might be transformed into the latter.

Much of the confusion in definitions of nomadism may be traced to theuse and abuse of the term 'transhumance7. It has been variously used todescribe the exploitation of seasonal pastures within the same valleysystem by village flocks under the care of shepherds (Monteil 1959, p.579;Krader 1959, p.500), the migration of whole village communities withtheir flocks for a season (Johnson 1969, p.18; Swidler 1973, p.32) and theseasonal movement of nomadic pastoralists (Stauffer 1965, p.290; Sten-ning 1957, pp.58-9; Tapper 1974, 1979c). It has frequently been employed- implicitly and sometimes explicitly - to describe an intermediate statebetween sedentism and nomadism.

Again the difference between the terms nomadism and transhumanceis logical rather than categorical - the two operate on entirely differentscales. I would suggest that the term 'transhumance' be confined to aform of livestock management making use of seasonal variations in theavailability of pasture. As such it may be either vertical or horizontal, andcould include all three of the patterns referred to above. Given this defini-tion, typologies according to which groups are categorized as sedentary,nomadic or transhumant (e.g. Swidler 1973; Krader 1959) become mean-ingless. 'Alpenwirtschaft7 is a form of transhumance (Miiller 1938; Vincze1980) but has nothing to do with nomadism. The transhumance of villageflocks may or may not involve an element of nomadism, depending onwhether the population moves with the herds. The degree of humaninvolvement is therefore one vital index of the presence of nomadism.The other is the degree of potential mobility of the transhumance trackitself. Only where a transhumance pattern involves substantial numbersof people engaged in tending and exploiting the herd for subsistence, andis potentially subject to lateral shifts into new zones at either end of thecycle, are we dealing with the upper end of the sedentary-nomadiccontinuum.

Like 'transhumance7, 'semi-nomadism' is a much abused term. Forexample it has been used by Patai (1951, p.405) to cover forms of pastoral-ism based on sheep and goats, as opposed to 'pure7 nomads herdingcamels (Middle East) or horses (Central Asia), and by Bacon (1954) todenote pastoralists who import grain. Both usages confuse the separatedimensions of pastoralism and nomadism.

Nomadism then reduces to the organization of migratory communities,and nomadic pastoralism focuses on those communities whose migra-tions are organized around the transhumant migration of livestock (seeSpooner 1972, p.130). At the local level, and viewed over a short timescale, transhumance emerges as the salient characteristic of nomadicgroups. It is only at the regional level and over an extended time scale thatthe full implications of nomadism, as distinct from transhumance, emergewith full clarity. And it is at just such a temporal and regional scale thatarchaeology, as opposed to social anthropology, is best equipped to ap-proach the problem of nomadism.-

As recognized some time ago by Dyson-Hudson (1972), nomadismcannot be reduced to a back-and-forth movement according to theseasons. Annual removal to widely dispersed seasonal encampments is of


less interest in itself than the possibility of frequent changes in residentialassociation which it opens up. This constant circulation and instability inthe composition of residence groups has long attracted social anthro-pologists, although until very recently (Tapper 1979a) the reasons for thisattraction were not explicitly discussed. It is this very quality which like-wise affects the physical formation of nomad campsites and settlementsystems and affects the character and texture of the archaeological tracesinto which they are transformed. It may lie at the very heart of theproblem of detection and recognition of nomad sites.

Four features of nomadism are therefore pertinent to this inquiry:(1) The presence of transhumant migrations of livestock accompanied by

human communities - vertical or horizontal, long or short distance.(2) The possibility of fluidity in the formation of residential associations,

including some turnover in group membership and both seasonal andlong-term changes in the size of co-resident communities.

(3) A high degree of household autonomy at the operational level ofherding logistics and camp group formation.

(4) The maintenance of a flexible system of rights of access to territory inaccordance with frequent changes in residence and wholesale shifts inthe pattern of migration tracks and demands on grazing land.

More than the overt pattern of geographical movement, the overallorganization of a community needs to be stressed. Essentially nomadisminvolves the regular migration of a community together with much of itsproductive base within a single ecological niche. This may occur betweendifferent environmental zones or within a single zone. According to thisdefinition neither hunter-gatherers nor shifting cultivators are nomadic.The former may be highly mobile, but exploit a variety of resources andniches which constitute the productive base. The latter may well exploit asingle niche - perhaps through swiddening - but again they do not movetheir productive base into the new location.

Hunter-gatherers and nomads comparedIn view of the potential for confusion between the archaeological tracesof hunter-gatherers and pastoral nomads it is necessary to spell outthe differences between their respective productive strategies and corre-sponding territorial systems. As Khazanov (1984, p. 15) has pointed out,the 'nomadism' involved in a system based on food procurement is quitedifferent from that of a food-producing system. There are important dif-ferences not only in the motives which govern the pattern of movementbut also in the pattern of movement itself and, above all, in the principlesof site generation which apply to each.

Enough is now known about the territorial behaviour of existing andrecent hunter-gatherers (Lee and DeVore (eds.) 1968, 1976; Lee 1972;Woodburn 1968, 1972; Binford 1978b, 1980, 1983; Yellen 1977; Gould1980) to permit some broad generalizations. In spite of major differencesin technological complexity and range of movement (Binford 1979), theunderlying themes that emerge are consistent. The texture of a hunter-gatherer territorial system is dominated by seasonal base camps centredon water resources and located so as to provide access to major resources.


To these must be added special purpose sites such as ceremonial sites, kill-sites and hunting-blinds. Rights in territory are acquired mainly throughdescent or marriage, though the actual composition of residential groupsfluctuates according to seasonal resource density following lines of kin-ship and affiliation to estate owners. Some archaeologists, such as Foley(1981) in East Africa and Hiscock (1984) in Australia, see such territorialsystems in terms of relative densities of item distributions over a continu-ous surface with nodes of high density rather than as a series of discretesites. With the exception of base camps for the exploitation of abundant(e.g. marine) resources or scarce resources (e.g. dry season camps aroundwaterholes), changes of residence are frequent and usually take place overshort distances, attuned to the progression of a constantly changingresource-use schedule.

While violent conflict is by no means absent from hunter-gatherer life,and while it may well arise from considerations of territory, the elementof territorial aggrandizement appears to be absent. This is not to say thatdisplacement of some groups by others does not occur, but it may bedifficult to determine just what constitutes a 'group'.

As Ingold (1987) has recently suggested, the fundamental differencebetween hunter-gatherers and nomads is that, whereas in the former casethe relations of production are tied to territories or significant sites,nomadic productive relations are largely independent of place, beingvested in mobile pastoral capital. While it is not true to say that nomadicpastoralists lack a concept of territory, their territorial system is geared tothe acquisition of pasture rather than establishing vital symbolic links be-tween the community and a particular locale.

Accordingly, the logistics of nomadic and hunter-gatherer migrationdiffer fundamentally. While the hunter-gatherer, whether forager or col-lector (Binford 1980), schedules his movements with regard to consump-tion, the pastoral nomad is tied to a schedule of pastoral production which isin turn dependent upon the consumption patterns of pastoral stock.Whereas the hunter-gatherer exploitation strategy is an eclectic onewhich incorporates a wide range of available and preferred plant andanimal species, that of the pastoralist is driven by a single overridingpreoccupation - the search for pasture for his flocks. This means that thehunter-gatherer;s territorial system is far more complex than that of thepastoralist - attuned as it is to the competing demands of a wide range ofresources. While the hunter-gatherer will be familiar with the entire spec-trum of resources and features in his landscape, the pastoralist will beacquainted with only a narrow band comprising the pastoral niche itself.In this sense he is more like an agriculturalist except that, instead of anintensively farmed plot of land, his range consists of a continuous strip ofreal estate over much of which he may lay only temporary claim. Thepastoral nomad's mode of migration is therefore direct and certain. This isnot to say that nomads are not logistically organized or incapable offollowing 'embedded7 strategies (Binford 1978a) nor that forms of 'multi-resource' nomadism (Salzman 1971, 1972) are impossible - only that thesearch for pasture provides the main impetus. Given the possibilities ofmodern technology, the advent of a nomad commuting between camp-sites by truck or motorbike represents no special paradox (Bates 1980;Chatty 1980).


The fundamental differences from which many other contrasting fea-tures flow are these:(1) Hunter-gatherer migration is centred on procurement and consump-

tion, while pastoral migration is motivated by production which is inturn tied to the consumption patterns of livestock.

(2) Whereas the territorial system of the hunter-gatherer is based onmoving himself towards his resources, or moving resources to people,for purposes of consumption, that of the nomad involves movingan entire infrastructure of production and consumption - includingaccommodation and staple foods - with little regard to the regionalavailability of micro-resources apart from the basics of water andfirewood.

(3) Whereas hunter-gatherers characteristically move in order to varytheir procurement strategy to exploit a wide variety of differentresources in different places and different seasons, nomadic pastoral-ists move in order to exploit the same basic resource - pasture - indifferent seasons. In a sense the main motivation behind pastoralmigration is to maintain access to a single environmental niche byfollowing its seasonal relocation from one geographical location toanother.

(4) For hunter-gatherers the activities of procurement and consumptionare spatially and temporarily associated (i.e. consumption followsclose on procurement, usually at the same place or nearby, exceptwhere long-term storage is available). For nomadic pastoralists theactivities of pastoral production and human consumption are continu-ous and largely independent of each other (see Hesse 1984).

(5) Hunter-gatherer migrations follow a complex spatial pattern coveringthe greater part of a well-defined territory or range, while nomadmigrations are simpler, following a migration track which may coveronly a small part of a number of territories.

(6) Hunter-gatherer movement tends to be governed by the principle ofrisk-minimization, whereas the migration of pastoralists is motivatedas much by a desire to optimize conditions for pastoral production as tominimize risks for the herd.

(7) Along with the less complex territorial system of nomadic pastoral-ists, we would expect their archaeological remains to be more spa-tially constrained and to exhibit less functional variability than in thecase of hunter-gatherer sites. The model of a base camp surrounded byspecial purpose sites connected to different procurement strategies holdslittle relevance for the archaeological study of nomadic pastoralists.

(8) Finally, whereas hunter-gatherer territorial patterns and migratorybehaviour tend to be fairly stable and localized, those of nomadicpastoralists incline towards marked instability and dramatic shifts inmigration tracks (Stenning 1957; Ingold 1987). Displacements of largeresidential and political units by others are extremely common. Thisstems from the fact that territorial aggrandisement is a key feature ofnomad life. This non-seasonal component in nomadic migration, aris-ing from the very forces of production central to specialized pastoral-ism, marks the nomadic system as inherently expansionist. To fullyunderstand the pattern of nomadic migration requires a large tapestryindeed.

3NOMAD PASTORALECONOMYIt should be known that differences of condition among people are the resultof the different ways in which they make their living . . . Some people live byagriculture, the cultivation of vegetables and grains; others by animal hus-bandry, the use of sheep, cattle, goats . . . Those who live by . . . animalhusbandry cannot avoid the call of the desert.

(ibn Khaldun, AD 1332-1406, The Muqaddimah)

Nomadism and the integration of pastoralismand agricultureThere has been much discussion concerning the differences between pas-toralism and agriculture, the desert and the sown (Nelson 1973); withmuch stress being laid on either the complementarity of pastoral andagricultural products or the conflicts generated through competition forresources. Much of this misses the point. Pastoralism and agriculturediffer not only in the things produced but more fundamentally in thenature of the productive process itself. While both modes of subsistencein a Near Eastern context are subject to large fluctuations in productivity(Adams 197A), the manner in which each system responds to these fluc-tuations is quite different.

The organization of pastoral and agricultural productionWhereas fluctuations in the level of agricultural production tend to bebuffered and absorbed by the stable structure of a sedentary community,similar fluctuations in pastoral production are amplified throughout theorganization of a pastoral community. The essential difference stemsfrom the fact that, whereas farming productivity is influenced directly byenvironmental factors such a temperature, amount and timing of rainfallor overexploitation of soil, pastoral productivity is affected via the media-tion of herd animals. As already indicated, pastoral success tends to resultin an increase rather than a slackening of labour requirements, not somuch in herding itself but in extractive activities such as milking, process-ing and shearing. Conversely failure and decline of pastoral capital willlead to reduced labour requirements in both herding and the processing ofpastoral products. The nature of the contrast is indicated schematically inFig. 3.1. Given a sequence of favourable years and disaster years the two

23


KEY_ Level of

production_ Productive

capital_ Amount of

land Labour

required... Consumption

f r. outsidesources

HIGH

Fig. 3.1 Internal dynamicsof the pastoral andagricultural modes ofsubsistence in responseto favourable andunfavourable conditions.(a) An agricultural mode ofsubsistence tends tominimize fluctuations inproductive factors.(b) Pastoralism tends toenhance the extremes invariability. Moreover theextremes tend to runtogether in a strong boomand bust cycle.

AGRI-CULTURE

LOW

TIME

HIGH

PASTORAL-ISM

LOW

Temporary rise inm*Qt productivitydue to animal losses

BAD GOOD BADSEQUENCE OF YEARS

GOOD

systems respond as follows. As capital losses drive down productivity, thepastoralist will require less pasture land while the farmer's land holdingsand requirements need not be diminished. At the same time labour re-quirements are greatly reduced for the pastoralist, but will remain atmuch the same level for the cultivator. By the same token, during asequence of favourable years, existing levels of agricultural land and capi-tal investment (e.g. plough animals, equipment) will tend to hold downproduction. For the pastoralist, all the factors of production will worktogether to initiate an upward spiral in productivity (see Cribb 1984c).

In summary, the agricultural system emerges as a stable one whichtends to absorb fluctuations in productivity through the relative constancyof land, labour and capital requirements. The pastoral system, by contrast,emerges as a highly unstable one in which requirements of land andlabour tend to closely follow fluctuations in the level of capital holdings.Under favourable conditions the rapid build-up of productive capital willlead land and labour requirements upwards, while a succession ofreverses will result in the under-use of pasture and the off-loading ofherding labour into seasonal work. The pastoral mode of subsistencetherefore tends to oscillate between upward spirals of accumulation and avicious circle of decline (Spooner 1972, 1973). These cycles of engagementand disengagement of the factors of production are linked to highly flex-ible institutions for the distribution of grazing rights, the circulation oflivestock and the concentration or dispersal of labour resources throughimpermanent residence associations (Cribb 1984c). It is this that has ledsome to describe pastoralism as 'fluid, marginal, transitional and unstable7(Spooner 1972, p. 130). The terms 'marginal' and 'transitional7 are quiteinappropriate, and 'instability7 should be confined to the cycle of produc-tion itself, not the social forms which help to absorb this.

No assumptions should be made about the complementarity of the twomodes of subsistence - they do not necessarily coexist in order to ensure a

Nomad pastoral economy 25

balanced diet or to even out ecological imbalances as has been argued bysome participants in the domestication debate (e.g. Flannery 1972). Nor isthere much support for the view that pastoralism is a form of resource-banking against the uncertainty of agricultural production (Hole and Flan-nery 1962; Adams 1974). On the contrary, the evidence strongly suggeststhat pastoralists and cultivators suffer simultaneously from environmentalcalamities, though political instability tends to favour the pastoralist. Forinstance livestock numbers in the Zagros village community studied byWatson (1979) were much reduced at the same time as a sequence of cropfailures had brought great hardship to the villagers. Moreover the forms ofscheduling required by the two systems likewise complement at somepoints and contradict at others. Each represents a distinct set of optionswith its own rules, potentialities and constraints. Of course one or theother or both, in various measures, may be pursued by the same group orindividual - the variety of agro-pastoral and specialized agricultural orpastoral systems in the Near East is limited only by the range of availableenvironments and market niches.

Pastoral and agricultural production may be integrated at a number oflevels, the most basic being that of the household

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Nomads in Archaeology