Introduction: a Scottish perspective
Is archaeology still the project of nation states? If not, does archaeology, then, serve the supranational, such as the European Union, or the multinational corporation? Or does it work on a smaller scale than the national, and belong to the regional or the local? These issues were discussed in a round table at the European Association of Archaeologists (EAA) conference in Glasgow in September 2015, and this paper will explore them from a Scottish perspective.
The development of archaeology and the history of the nation state are intertwined, with a long history of influence of the latter over the former, from the types of question asked to the structure and institutions of the discipline itself (e.g. Díaz-Andreu and Champion Reference Díaz-Andreu and Champion1996a; Kohl and Fawcett 1995; Trigger Reference Trigger2003). Díaz-Andreu and Champion have considered this impact in several areas, including archaeology's role in maintaining national identities, the state's concomitant influence on the structure of archaeology, and archaeology's role in helping create a public portrayal of the past (Díaz-Andreu and Champion Reference Díaz-Andreu and Champion1996b, 5–6). Archaeology can be (and has been) used to reinforce the state; however, in the conference round table, my position was that archaeology is no longer the project of nation states, at least in the particular case of Scotland. While the state continues to have an impact on archaeological work, primarily through funding provision, planning and policy, there is a growing recognition that archaeology (and the stories that we uncover through it) can make a significant contribution to cross-disciplinary agendas, including well-being, education and economic impact. Improving social indicators such as well-being is a stated objective of Scottish Government; accordingly, archaeology can be used as a vehicle for delivery. This is very different to the idea of archaeology as a ‘project’ of nation states, and all of these aspects, from well-being and identity-building to funding, operate over so many different levels and in such diverse ways that I would contend that archaeology is too messy, operates at too many different levels and is too multidisciplinary to be viewed solely in this way.
Historiographies of archaeology have examined several specific examples that throw the relationship between archaeology and the state into sharper relief (e.g. Arnold Reference Arnold1990; Kohl and Fawcett 1995; Trigger Reference Trigger2003, 174–86). These highlight archaeology's role in relation to forming wider narratives, especially national myths. There is a tendency to focus, however, on the early 20th century; the subsequent post-Second World War and Cold War eras in western Europe have seen a less crude use of archaeology as a tool for propaganda (Trigger Reference Trigger2003, 185). In Scotland, this relationship is much messier. National ‘state’ concerns in terms of archaeology are often trumped by much more regional issues (as has been the case since the 19th century).
Scotland is a country within a wider nation state, operating under a post-imperial legacy. Within Scotland there are strong regional identities with administrations to match, represented by 32 local authority areas. There are also many other ways in which identity can be built or manifested, such as linguistic groupings (including Gaelic and Scots), geography, religion and class. This is by no means an exhaustive or exclusive list and focuses on group identities. Nationalism requires a national story or myth for the purposes of the state, but a range of these is in play, with Scottish traditions (e.g. plucky underdog) colliding with national (UK) narratives (e.g. waves of invaders leaving their best), colliding with imperial propaganda (e.g. the UK's role in bringing Enlightenment to the world), as well as strong regional stories. Archaeologists have to navigate these waters, which have an influence on administrative boundaries, on funding streams and on institutional remits – as well as on how the work of archaeologists might be mobilized as part of a different story.
Scottish Government works towards five strategic objectives: underpinning one of these (‘a wealthier and fairer Scotland’) is the objective: ‘We take pride in a strong, fair and inclusive national identity’. This means that heritage can be mobilized under the banner of a national identity, but in a way very different than it would have been done in the 19th and 20th centuries, with an alternate focus on resilience and inclusivity. In the context of working within Scotland (especially in projects in which a significant proportion of funding comes from Scottish Government) these issues are ‘live’. Scotland's historic environment strategy, Our place in time (Scottish Government 2014), includes a strong archaeological component; indeed, the first supporting quotation is from the (then) Institute for Archaeologists, praising the ambition, direction and buy-in from the sector (ibid., inside cover). The ultimate goal of the strategy – well-being – is highlighted throughout, and the intention of the document is to ‘ensure that the cultural, social, environmental and economic value of Scotland's heritage makes a strong contribution to the wellbeing of the nation and its people’ (ibid., ‘the strategy cycle’ i). The core themes underpinning the strategy – understanding, protecting, valuing – are set out in terms of participation, skills and diversity.
Underneath this overarching strategy sits Scotland's archaeology strategy (Scottish Strategic Archaeology Committee 2015), which begins with a definition of what archaeology is and why it is important. This highlights the role of archaeology in connecting people today to people in the past and ‘this connection shapes our sense of identity and belonging, enhancing our wellbeing’ (ibid., 3). The document explicitly positions archaeology as a tool for delivering increased well-being, with a thematic focus on engagement, skills and the understanding and protection of the resource. The strategy for museums and galleries in Scotland, Going further. The national strategy for Scotland's museums and galleries (Museum Galleries Scotland 2012) similarly emphasizes the role of museums as tools to deliver wider societal benefits: regeneration, skills development, jobs, sustainability, tourism and well-being, rather than promoting national myths. All three strategies were created by and for the sector, with objectives that have been made explicit.
Scotland recently – in September 2014 – held a referendum on independence from the UK. Archaeology, archaeologists or any aspect of the past beyond recent history did not greatly figure in the debates around this. It is unlikely that this was due to archaeological views or archaeological evidence being considered too dangerous to use: it is more probable that archaeological opinion was not seen as relevant, and viewed as containing often complex and contradictory material difficult to corral to clearly support an argument (contrary to the observations of Díaz-Andreu and Champion Reference Díaz-Andreu and Champion1996b, 20). However, historians (particularly of the recent past) featured heavily in the debate. It appears that archaeologists were not silenced: rather, we did not effectively communicate our relevance, despite the types of evidence we work with being important in constructing identities today. Exploring the potential role of archaeologists as public intellectuals (Tarlow and Nilsson Stutz Reference Tarlow and Nilsson Stutz2015) is therefore timely and important.
The relationship between archaeology and state is inextricably linked to identity (or rather identities) and boundaries, and I will address this in relation to two projects I have recently managed which explore these issues: the Scottish Archaeological Research Framework (ScARF), and Dig It! 2015, the year-long celebration of Scottish archaeology.
Borders and boundaries
A countrywide initiative begun in 2008, funded by the then Historic Scotland, ScARF sought to outline current understanding of research questions about the past, and to consider what questions we, as heritage professionals, would like to answer in the future. It was an initiative that took cognizance of earlier regional research frameworks in England, for example the South West Archaeological Research Framework (Somerset Heritage Service, 2007), as well as thematic, nationwide examples, such as that for the Iron Age (Haselgrove et al. Reference Haselgrove, Armit, Champion, Creighton, Gwilt, Hill, Hunter and Woodward2001). ScARF drew particular inspiration from the Welsh research framework, especially from its design as a primarily online resource. The process of creating the Welsh framework was built around regions, but identified nationwide Welsh research priorities organized by archaeological period (IfA Wales/Cymru 2008).
ScARF differed in that the starting point was national as opposed to regional. It took a nationwide approach, but sought to tie in to Scotland's international context, with a focus on Scottish material (and generally Scottish material in Scotland). ScARF is used as a case study within Our place in time (Scottish Government 2014, 15) as an example of the value of co-production. The nationwide approach was taken because of the variability in regional traditions of research interest, skills and existing cultural resources and institutional capacity. There was a desire to avoid the danger of these becoming self-replicating (e.g. certain regions recurrently focusing on certain topics, or indeed ignoring them, such as the regional gaps in knowledge of the Iron Age identified in the Iron Age Research Framework (Haselgrove et al. Reference Haselgrove, Armit, Champion, Creighton, Gwilt, Hill, Hunter and Woodward2001, 25)). Regional and thematic research frameworks are currently being developed in Scotland (e.g. the North-East Scotland Regional Research FrameworkFootnote 1), which work to identify those nationwide questions that can be addressed locally, and those that cannot, with alternatives being articulated.
The process of assembling ScARF threw a whole series of boundary issues into sharp relief. Perhaps most obviously, modern administrative boundaries rarely match up with boundaries that would have been meaningful in the past. This is recognized and accepted by researchers, yet there is still a tendency, particularly in prehistory, to create ‘regions’ as the main actors in accounts of the past. Archaeological work also places a site within its regional context; present-day artificial borders can therefore impact upon interpretation. Research frameworks also affect where people look to for parallels in order to explain phenomena, and the national border between Scotland and England has had an effect: Anglo-Saxon material culture, for example, has been traditionally thought of as an English phenomenon on both sides of the border. In this way, the Scotland–England national border can be seen in a similar way to local administrative borders, though the effects can be more pronounced. An example of this can be seen by comparing the Treasure Trove system in Scotland with the Portable Antiquities Scheme in England and Wales (e.g. Royal Society of Edinburgh 2012). Variation in approach and disparities in funding and personnel lead not only to different interpretations, but also to hugely different data sets built on divergent sampling. This is, however, an effect of how the state is organized, rather than a tool to reinforce its messaging. Different institutional organizational structures in different countries can impact on the comparison and interpretation of data for research. The presence or absence of research frameworks themselves can also do this. The Welsh Research Framework emphasizes this visually, by containing a map index to other research frameworks in Scotland and England (with space for a Northern Irish framework),Footnote 2 though the Republic of Ireland (and Europe more generally) are omitted.
Archaeology (and cultural heritage generally) is also used to cross borders and boundaries, including international borders, using archaeology as a way to make links through soft diplomacy. One recent example from Scotland is the analysis of the skeletons from the cemetery site at Auldhame, East Lothian; one of these is thought to have been an important individual from Ireland. This was referenced to celebrate a series of visits and initiatives building on Scottish–Irish cultural relations.Footnote 3 The Scottish Ten project, jointly run by Historic Environment Scotland, the Digital Design Studio at the Glasgow School of Art and CyArk, uses skills and expertise in laser scanning and visualization to promote Scotland abroad through surveying five local and five international UNESCO World Heritage Sites. The surveys are used to showcase skills and innovation, explicitly mobilizing not just the past, but also archaeological skills, to cross borders. Crossing the borders between Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland, the Isle of Man and Scotland, the ongoing Boyne to Brodgar project highlights the opportunity of using archaeology as a vehicle for cross-border collaboration, including the formation of transnational research questions (Sheridan and Cooney, in press). However, there is relatively little tradition of archaeologists from countries outside the United Kingdom running projects here.
Internally, heritage projects also cross boundaries. For example, the landscape-level funding streams of the Heritage Lottery Fund (HLF) have encouraged projects that focus on river catchments (e.g. the Tay Landscape Partnership and the Clyde and Avon Valley Landscape Partnership), rather than traditional administrative boundaries. Initiatives like the Tyne–Forth Prehistory Forum also sought to cross the England–Scotland border in this way. Disciplinary boundaries are regularly crossed, as archaeologists work with scientists, historians and anthropologists.
Identities
Archaeology tells stories about the past. As a result of ScARF being created and made available online, a writer and a comic-book artist were asked to pull out some of the gripping stories from over 800,000 words of text put together by over 300 experts in their various fields: the result was Telling Scotland's story (Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 2013). Each short chapter of this graphic-novel-style booklet (distributed for free online and in hard copy) told a different archaeological story, from ‘Musselburgh and the mysteries of Mithras’ to ‘The Atlantis of the North Sea’. The work could have been more accurately titled Telling Scotland's stories: the goal was not to create one unified national myth, but rather to celebrate the range of stories that archaeology discovers.
It is important to consider, however, who tells these stories. Telling Scotland's story was selected from among what the ‘sector’ thought important. Increasingly, those choices are being made by different groups. It is fun to view the Great Tapestry of Scotland (Mansfield and Moffat Reference Mansfield and Moffat2013) and consider the choices that you could potentially make of moments to include that contribute to your own personal conception of a ‘national’ story. Similarly, A key to Dutch history. Report by the Committee for the Development of the Dutch Canon was released in the Netherlands in 2007 as an educational resource, highlighting a series of ‘windows’ onto moments in the past thought important in understanding the story of the Netherlands. Rather than a top-down imposition, however, this was conceived as a ‘discussion’: the resource is updatable and in wiki format (Commissie Ontwikkeling Nederlandse Canon 2007, 44–45), similar to ScARF. The ‘windows’ will change and be developed and this points to the future of people's interaction with archaeology, exploring their own choice of stories and building identities at different levels.
While the Scottish Ten Project documents ten sites deemed important by UNESCO and the international community, another initiative, Project Accord, run by the Glasgow School of Art and Archaeology Scotland, works with local groups to use modern recording techniques to record what is important to them. In the same way as the A key to Dutch history, this is one way in which people can explore, assert and select their own stories. At both ends of the scale, archaeology is being used to help tell the story of the international or of the local: in each case, their work is the vehicle for something else, from showcasing Scottish skill on an international stage to helping local communities highlight what they like about where they live.
The year 2015 was selected as a year-long celebration of Scottish archaeology, built on the EAA conference being held in Scotland for the first time. The central theme of Dig It! 2015 was ‘identities’ – primarily local identities, and the intrinsic and diverse connections of people to place over time. Many communities actively use the past to construct identities; at the same time, it should be noted that many do not have a feel for archaeology or have developed an idea that it is not ‘for them’. Work undertaken for Dig It! 2015 branding found that the ‘-ology’ could be a barrier to getting involved with archaeology. The underdeveloped potential of the subject matter is mirrored in the demographics of archaeologists in Scotland, which are not reflective of the population at large (Aitchison and Rocks-Maqueen Reference Aitchison and Rocks-Maqueen2013).
However, the rise in ‘community’ archaeology often builds on strong histories of regional archaeological traditions (which in some cases stretch back into the 19th century). Many funding sources are ‘national’, but the choice of projects is increasingly local. Similarly, the 2014 Research Excellence Framework gave a 20 per cent weighting to impact on ‘economy, society, and/or culture’ (REF 2012, 6), which has the potential to make a future contribution to the communities surrounding universities. Museum exhibitions have long been a solid vehicle for delivering a nation state's projection of itself, but there are over 450 museums in Scotland alone. Museum exhibitions therefore highlight an interesting mix of different voices, alien to how a national museum would have spoken in the 19th and 20th centuries.
Coherent national myths are difficult to form against a background of nuanced local narratives. Similarly, as a sector we are being challenged about what is considered ‘heritage’ or worthy of building stories around. Intangible cultural heritage, graffiti or the recent case of the Tinkers Heart in Scotland are examples of this opening up.Footnote 4 Archaeology is also increasingly involved in activism and campaigning at local grassroots level; for example, at the time of writing, the campaign to save Old Oswestry Hillfort in Shropshire utilized expert opinion from a range of archaeological organizations to reinforce the campaign.Footnote 5
There are many different voices within, and using, archaeology to tell stories. There are strong local voices, as well as robust international ones, though it should be noted that these are the voices of those already engaged and confident enough to use archaeology. In the cacophony, a national myth would be ripped to pieces. The bigger problem is not the potential misuse of a single story by a nation state, but rather unequal access to the means by which to tell the stories.
If not the state, then who?
The (potentially) Scottish saying ‘who pays the piper calls the tune’ reflects the imbalance of power towards the agendas of funders. The Scottish and UK governments (through a diversity of direct and indirect means) provide a sizeable component of funding to archaeology. As I have discussed, governmental concerns in the 21st century appear more instrumental than nationalistic. But what of other funders who might see archaeology as contributing to their ‘project’?
European funding has in the past promoted a transnational European identity, through the celebration, for example, of the European Year of the Bronze Age (1994), promoting the period as a ‘golden age’ for the continent. The suitability of the Bronze Age for this type of projection has been noted as a particularly good era to reconcile various national identities with the concept of ‘Europe’ (Jones and Graves-Brown Reference Jones, Graves-Brown, Graves-Brown, Jones and Gamble1996, 16). The recent Forging Identities project, also drawing on European funding, revisits the Bronze Age and finds parallels of relevance to the challenges faced by modern-day Europe.Footnote 6 Current funding streams seem to move more to the instrumental: the Atlantic Area transnational programme, for example, looks to enhance cultural assets to promote cultural identity for the benefit of community well-being and tourism, with the emphasis on stimulating economic development.Footnote 7 During the process of creating ScARF, it was noted that the Bronze Age (the period par excellence for the modern exploration of European identity) had been given short shrift in UK research frameworks (Last Reference Last2008), often divided between the Neolithic and the Iron Age, and therefore lost between them. As a result, ScARF had a dedicated Chalcolithic and Bronze Age panel, and the period itself increasingly appears in Scotland to have been vibrant, as sites previously seen as Neolithic or Iron Age (such as henges and hillforts respectively) are shown to have either a floruit, or roots, in the Bronze Age.
Other funders are more focused on local concerns. Some sources of funding, such as LEADER (through the Scottish Rural Development Programme) or the Heritage Lottery Fund, come from high-level organizations with broad remits; the project funding itself is often for localized projects. Development-led archaeology still accounts for the majority of funding for archaeological work in Scotland, with local-authority archaeologists in planning departments or trusts ensuring the best dividends for the region. Multinational companies still have to focus on the local specifics of cultural heritage, and the guidance created by Rio Tinto, for example, highlights this, though it also notes the clash between local and national identities (Rio Tinto 2011, 100). In this specific instance, archaeology can be used as a tool for a different end: managing risk, promoting the company's image and ensuring a social license to operate (ibid., 102). University funding is also moving towards social impact, increasingly focusing on the community of place in which individual institutions are embedded.
Although not a bid for funding per se (though the prestige associated with achieving the status can have a measurable and considerable economic value), selection of sites for consideration for World Heritage status brings together an interesting mix of the local, national and international. In July 2015, Scotland attained a sixth UNESCO World Heritage Site status for the Forth Bridge, and this is referenced in the Scottish Government's programme for government 2015–16 (Scottish Government 2015, 15). In part, the inclusion of the bridge as an example can be attributed to its utility as a measurable accolade; however, the text emphasizes this as a monument to Scottish engineering and innovative approaches to protection and management today. Themes of skills and access shine through the other examples in the programme, as heritage is increasingly emphasized as a way of delivering social and economic returns.
Economic returns are at the forefront of tourism and regeneration, also increasingly major drivers (and funders) of archaeological work in Scotland. The historic environment in general has been valued at £2.3 billion in the Scottish economy (ECOTEC 2008); tourism is a major component of this value. In places such as Orkney, archaeology is a particularly large contributor to tourism; the Ness of Brodgar dig in Orkney, for example, has contributed considerably to the wider tourism offering and marketing profile of the islands, including featuring on the cover of National geographic magazine in 2014.
Where next?
Following the papers presented at the EAA session in September 2015, there was a discussion about whether archaeology should be the project of nation states. The idea was expressed that nation states are, at least, a known quantity, and to varying extents had some element of democratic oversight. This was contrasted with alternatives, such as multinationals setting the agenda (e.g. Rio Tinto 2011). I was struck by the lack of positive alternatives – maybe archaeology needs to explore more actively exactly what it is the project of. If any discipline is equipped with the tools to see beyond our current circumstances, archaeology is it. The process of practising archaeology itself opens up space to explore and critique established truths – even perhaps the notion of the nation state itself.
So is archaeology still the project of the state? Archaeology is too messy to be a tool for just one constituency. And many (if not the overwhelming majority) of concerns are regional rather than national. Archaeology can be used by the state, though this is done in several ways: to make political/cultural links, to drive or contribute to well-being, as a tool for the development of identity, and through the use of cultural diplomacy as a channel for communication between nation states. Local, regional, national and international stories all collide to muddy the waters. And archaeology is often found on several sides of a debate – for example, mobilized in heritage management as a top-down tool for protecting the public interest, but also used from the bottom up (e.g. through the rise of archaeology at the explicit service of communities). How does the archaeologist sit within this mix? Uncomfortably. And that is a good thing!
