The relationship between excavations and local communities

My involvement in archaeological excavation began in 1979, and for the next decade, I continued working with the digging in the same archaeological complex. In the final year, our expedition team preserved some of the unearthed remnants with support from a Japanese company operating in Peru. We intended to return the site to the local residents as an archaeological park, hoping they would use it as a place for studying history, given the outstanding data we had obtained from it.

While the park itself was a good idea, the local bureau of the Peruvian National Institute of Culture, today’s Ministry of Culture, registered an area roughly ten times the size of the complex and devised a grand plan to build a zoo and a botanical garden around it. Japan has a system to guarantee private property rights, which prevents government from arbitrarily prioritizing the historical value of an archaeological complex and imposing restrictions on its land. By contrast, across Latin America, site registrations generally impose heavy restrictions on the landowners’ activities. They are denied the right to reside within the complex and are ordered to leave.

At the opening ceremony of the park, one of the residents who had long worked with us during our excavations, approached me and said harshly: “Thanks to your team, we’ve earned cash during our farming off-season for the past decade. We truly appreciate you for giving us the opportunity. But none of this disaster would have happened if you had never come here in the first place.”

His reproach had a profound impact on me. While I thought our actions were positive—receiving research grants, traveling across the world to excavate sites, and even establishing a historical park, among other achievements—they led to unintended consequences. I was reminded through this experience that research must take into account the inner workings of the local society.

Up until that time, the expedition had regarded registration of archaeological sites and their preservation as matters of the local country, beyond the involvement or action of scholars. But this very attitude had negative repercussions. While I earned a living by collecting data and returning to Japan to write theses and reports, the impoverished people in our research areas were displaced and left unable to sustain their livelihoods. This led me to strongly question whether it was acceptable to be a part of such structural contradictions.

Abiding discomfort with such contradictions led me to commit to coming up with a cool-headed analysis of the situation and finding solutions. I accordingly began to conduct socio-anthropological fieldwork, focusing on laws and issues related to cultural properties.

Take, for example, the issue of illegal excavations. We need to examine why people resort to such acts, and why the purposes of Peru’s National Institute of Culture are so at odds with the perspective of local residents.

Foreign academics conduct digs after obtaining research permits at their fieldwork site. This means we are no different from robbers without a permit. Except that we cannot hide or conceal the artifacts we unearth, and we inventory our finds and submit everything to the National Institute of Culture. In due course, artifacts of gold and other valuable items found at the site may spark excitement among the local people and the national government, and before long, the excitement has escalated into plans for tourism development.

Even if we scholars try to confine ourselves to academia, our research discoveries can be utilized in any way, in the same way that dynamite—Alfred Nobel’s invention—was misappropriated as a tool of war and killing people. Archaeology is no exception: if we remain insulated in our ivory tower, our achievements could impact society beyond our intentions. Research must be pursued with an awareness of our responsibilities in this regard. And to properly integrate such considerations, ethics, and obligations into our scholarly endeavors, we need to understand the general structure of our research.

For example, we need to examine the principles underlying the protection of cultural properties, understand and analyze UNESCO World Heritage sites—which are both a universal concept and framework—and explore what actions we should take. In my view, this type of analysis should be integrated into any project for archaeological excavation. Not only do I aim to apply the findings from such scholarly endeavors to practical action, but I also regard this as the responsibility of scholars conducting research abroad. We must, furthermore, examine what practical steps to take and what structures to adopt in close partnership with the local society where the archaeological complex is located.

Developing awareness for sustaining local villages

From that time on, upon entering a village with an archaeological site for an excavation, we first identify the existing local organizations. Instead of just digging the ruins, we make a point of valuing our relationship with the villagers. For instance, whereas our expedition previously utilized personal networks through acquaintances or the village chief to hire excavation workers, today we ask the villagers to hold meetings and choose the workers themselves. This approach enhances the village’s self-governance and demonstrates that we are not arbitrarily picking individuals.

People often say they need to “educate” the people of developing nations, but the opposite is true—there is so much we must learn from them. For example, all villagers know who are the poorest in their community and the size of their family, so meetings result in suggestions to offer work for them first. I tell the residents that anyone is welcome and I accept whoever are chosen, regardless of their proficiency in excavation work. 

For the women who clean and create notes on unearthed pottery fragments, we are careful to ensure that their husband is not also engaged in the excavation so that their household does not receive “double income.” We bring substantial amounts of cash to small villages, in effect operating like a big corporation, so we must be exceptionally careful to prevent societal frictions or conflicts in the village. This is our general approach to engaging with local villages.

While research on excavated artifacts is important, the villagers must not be sidelined. I consider it my responsibility to act as a mediator, discussing with preservation authorities and exploring approaches to preserving and utilizing cultural assets to develop an artifact-handling framework in which villagers can participate.

Encouraging successors to our disciplines and research

After engaging in such activities and returning to Japan, I encounter a different problem. My current concern is how the younger generation is increasingly showing less interest in cultural properties. University professors and instructors say they see fewer students pursuing studies related to cultural assets.

Young people are highly attuned to the current state of society, so they engage with society through companies that solve social problems and are more inclined to pursue financial stability instead of entering a conventional academic field. This is why the popularity of “old-fashioned” academic disciplines like ours is declining. While this trend may be inevitable, we must maintain these disciplines as the bastions of academia; this kind of basic research must be preserved at all costs; the humanities must never be eliminated. At the same time, established disciplines need to demonstrate that they are committed to solving social problems, and develop educational systems accordingly.

This is why we conduct workshops for elementary school students, hoping to show them what scholars are doing from an early age. We recently edited an encyclopedia for elementary school students as well. These efforts are necessary for both preserving and advancing our academic field, as well as contributing to Japanese society.

The role of Minpaku, now in its fiftieth year

What I have shared so far presents my personal vision for research. I cannot impose it on Minpaku, and I intend to devote myself to administration of the Institute separately from my personal research. Still, there is no major disconnect between my perspective and the aims of the Institute, since Minpaku, under the NIHU Fourth Mid-term Plan (FY2022–FY2027), aims to organize forums. For example, some are between researchers and the communities they study, in turn embodying the concept of co-creation—or collaborative creation. Co-creation partners are not limited to communities and can include scholars present in the target society. Further, as an inter-university research institute featuring a museum, forums between Minpaku and general visitors can be conducted through museum activities. We may arrange these forums via our volunteer organization Minpaku Museum Partners (MMP) or through direct engagement in visitor workshops. Organizing such forums as an inter-university institute generally aligns with the research philosophy I have discussed thus far. As described in the Fourth Mid-term Objectives, we aim to continue promoting this forum framework.

I also aspire to further enhance the research aspect of Minpaku as an inter-university research institute. The scholarly work being pursued here is commendable, and I hope the forum-based approach can be adopted to upgrade it. At the same time, we must set research topics that take into account the rapid changes in modern society to some extent. This will require meticulous analyses of target societies, a task at which cultural anthropology excels. As the changes are affecting not only the target societies but also ourselves, through such analyses we should be able to gain insights into major global trends as well. Unlike economists or political scientists, our strength lies in moving our perspectives from micro- to macro-level dynamics, rather than observing only on a macro level. And this whole research approach is what I ultimately aim to promote.

Aspirations as Director-General

The National Museum of Japanese History and Minpaku are the only inter-university research institutions with museums, and their operation is quite challenging at the moment. Institutes relying on government-distributed operation grants, including those in higher education and cultural administration, are generally facing severe financial difficulties. This is inevitable to some extent, considering the condition of Japan’s economy. But the reality is that the budget we receive is not sufficient to adequately address our needs. Even if we can secure grants-in-aid for scientific research and other external funding, keeping research and museum activities dynamic has become increasingly difficult. Meanwhile, we must keep on bringing attention to Minpaku’s relevance to the public and academia alike. This means we may face various critical choices.

Minpaku will always aim to shape a better future for humanity. While keeping that in mind, we must—from a practical perspective—consider how to share our research results efficiently. As director-general, I aspire to guide Minpaku successfully through this challenging period. While we do not have the luxury to devise a sweeping grand plan, our younger scholars are diligently working to develop a vision for the Fifth Mid-term Plan (FY2028–FY2033). I hope to incorporate their views and implement the objectives within our given conditions. And my role in achieving this is to maintain tireless communication with society.

(Interviewer: OHBA Go, Researcher, Center for Innovative Research, National Institutes for the Humanities)