Anthropologists, Cultural Relativism, and Universal Rights
By Carolyn Fluehr-Lobban
Cultural relativism, long a key concept in anthropology,
asserts that since each culture has its own values and
practices, anthropologists should not make value judgments
about cultural differences. As a result, anthropological
pedagogy has stressed that the study of customs and norms
should be value-free, and that the appropriate role of the
anthropologist is that of observer and recorder.
Today, however, this view is being challenged by critics
inside and outside the discipline, especially those who want
anthropologists to take a stand on key human-rights issues. I
agree that the time has come for anthropologists to become
more actively engaged in safeguarding the rights of people
whose lives and cultures they study.
Historically, anthropology as a discipline has declined to
participate in the dialogue that produced international
conventions regarding human rights. For example, in 1947, when
the executive board of the American Anthropological
Association withdrew from discussions that led to the
"Universal Declaration of Human Rights," it did so in the
belief that no such declaration would be applicable to all
human beings. But the world and anthropology have changed.
Because their research involves extended interaction with
people at the grassroots, anthropologists are in a unique
position to lend knowledge and expertise to the international
debate regarding human rights.
Doing so does not represent a complete break with the
traditions of our field. After all, in the past,
anthropologists did not hesitate to speak out against such
reprehensible practices as Nazi genocide and South African
apartheid. And they have testified in U.S. courts against
government rules that impinge on the religious traditions or
sacred lands of Native Americans, decrying government policies
that treat groups of people unjustly.
However, other practices that violate individual rights or
oppress particular groups have not been denounced.
Anthropologists generally have not spoken out, for example,
against the practice in many cultures of female circumcision,
which critics call a mutilation of women. They have been
unwilling to pass judgment on such forms of culturally based
homicide as the killing of infants or the aged. Some have
withheld judgment on acts of communal violence, such as
clashes between Hindus and Muslims in India or Tutsis and
Hutus in Rwanda, perhaps because the animosities between those
groups are of long standing.
Moreover, as a practical matter, organized anthropology's
refusal to participate in drafting the 1947 human-rights
declaration has meant that anthropologists have not had much
of a role in drafting later human-rights statements, such as
the United Nations' "Convention on the Elimination of All
Forms of Discrimination Against Women," approved in 1979. In
many international forums discussing women's rights,
participants have specifically rejected using cultural
relativism as a barrier to improving women's lives.
The issue of violence against women throws the perils of
cultural relativism into stark relief. Following the lead of
human-rights advocates, a growing number of anthropologists
and others are coming to recognize that violence against women
should be acknowledged as a violation of a basic human right
to be free from harm. They believe that such violence cannot
be excused or justified on cultural grounds.
Let me refer to my own experience. For nearly 25 years, I have
conducted research in the Sudan, one of the African countries
where the practice of female circumcision is widespread,
affecting the vast majority of females in the northern Sudan.
Chronic infections are a common result, and sexual intercourse
and childbirth are rendered difficult and painful. However,
cultural ideology in the Sudan holds that an uncircumcised
woman is not respectable, and few families would risk their
daughter's chances of marrying by not having her circumcised.
British colonial officials outlawed the practice in 1946, but
this served only to make it surreptitious and thus more
dangerous. Women found it harder to get treatment for mistakes
or for side effects of the illegal surgery.
For a long time I felt trapped between, on one side, my
anthropologist's understanding of the custom and of the
sensitivities about it among the people with whom I was
working, and, on the other, the largely feminist campaign in
the West to eradicate what critics see as a "barbaric" custom.
To ally myself with Western feminists and condemn female
circumcision seemed to me to be a betrayal of the value system
and culture of the Sudan, which I had come to understand. But
as I was asked over the years to comment on female
circumcision because of my expertise in the Sudan, I came to
realize how deeply I felt that the practice was harmful and
wrong.
In 1993, female circumcision was one of the practices deemed
harmful by delegates at the international Human Rights
Conference in Vienna. During their discussions, they came to
view circumcision as a violation of the rights of children as
well as of the women who suffer its consequences throughout
life. Those discussions made me realize that there was a moral
agenda larger than myself, larger than Western culture or the
culture of the northern Sudan or my discipline. I decided to
join colleagues from other disciplines and cultures in
speaking out against the practice.
Some cultures are beginning to change, although cause and
effect are difficult to determine. Women's associations in the
Ivory Coast are calling for an end to female circumcision. In
Egypt, the Cairo Institute for Human Rights has reported the
first publicly acknowledged marriage of an uncircumcised
woman. In the United States, a Nigerian woman recently was
granted asylum on the ground that her returning to her country
would result in the forcible circumcision of her daughter,
which was deemed a violation of the girl's human rights.
To be sure, it is not easy to achieve consensus concerning the
point at which cultural practices cross the line and become
violations of human rights. But it is important that scholars
and human-rights activists discuss the issue. Some examples of
when the line is crossed may be clearer than others. The
action of a Japanese wife who feels honor-bound to commit
suicide because of the shame of her husband's infidelity can
be explained and perhaps justified by the traditional code of
honor in Japanese society. However, when she decides to take
the lives of her children as well, she is committing murder,
which may be easier to condemn than suicide.
What about "honor" killings of sisters and daughters accused
of sexual misconduct in some Middle Eastern and Mediterranean
societies? Some anthropologists have explained this practice
in culturally relativist terms, saying that severe disruptions
of the moral order occur when sexual impropriety is alleged or
takes place. To restore the social equilibrium and avoid
feuds, the local culture requires the shedding of blood to
wash away the shame of sexual dishonor. The practice of honor
killings, which victimizes mainly women, has been defended in
some local courts as less serious than premeditated murder,
because it stems from long-standing cultural traditions. While
some judges have agreed, anthropologists should see a
different picture: a pattern of cultural discrimination
against women.
As the issue of domestic violence shows, we need to explore
the ways that we balance individual and cultural rights. The
"right" of a man to discipline, slap, hit, or beat his wife
(and often, by extension, his children) is widely recognized
across many cultures in which male dominance is an accepted
fact of life. Indeed, the issue of domestic violence has only
recently been added to the international human-rights agenda,
with the addition of women's rights to the list of basic human
rights at the Vienna conference.
The fact that domestic violence is being openly discussed and
challenged in some societies (the United States is among the
leaders) helps to encourage dialogue in societies in which
domestic violence has been a taboo subject. This dialogue is
relatively new, and no clear principles have emerged. But
anthropologists could inform and enrich the discussion, using
their knowledge of family and community life in different
cultures.
Cases of genocide may allow the clearest insight into where
the line between local culture and universal morality lies.
Many anthropologists have urged the Brazilian and Venezuelan
governments to stop gold miners from slaughtering the Yanomami
people, who are battling the encroachment of miners on their
rain forests. Other practices that harm individuals or
categories of people (such as the elderly, women, and enslaved
or formerly enslaved people) may not represent genocide per
se, and thus may present somewhat harder questions about the
morality of traditional practices. We need to focus on the
harm done, however, and not on the scale of the abuse. We need
to be sensitive to cultural differences but not allow them to
override widely recognized human rights.
The exchange of ideas across cultures is already fostering a
growing acceptance of the universal nature of some human
rights, regardless of cultural differences. The right of
individuals to be free from harm or the threat of harm, and
the right of cultural minorities to exist freely within
states, are just two examples of rights that are beginning to
be universally recognized -- although not universally applied.
Fortunately, organized anthropology is beginning to change its
attitude toward cultural relativism and human rights. The
theme of the 1994 convention of the American Anthropological
Association was human rights. At the sessions organized around
the topic, many anthropologists said they no longer were
absolutely committed to cultural relativism. The association
has responded to the changing attitude among its members by
forming a Commission for Human Rights, charged with developing
a specifically anthropological perspective on those rights,
and with challenging violations and promoting education about
them.
Nevertheless, many anthropologists continue to express strong
support for cultural relativism. One of the most contentious
issues arises from the fundamental question: What authority do
we Westerners have to impose our own concept of universal
rights on the rest of humanity? It is true that Western ideas
of human rights have so far dominated international discourse.
On the other hand, the cultural relativists' argument is often
used by repressive governments to deflect international
criticism of their abuse of their citizens. At the very least,
anthropologists need to condemn such misuse of cultural
relativism, even if it means that they may be denied
permission to do research in the country in question.
Personally, I would go further: I believe that we should not
let the concept of relativism stop us from using national and
international forums to examine ways to protect the lives and
dignity of people in every culture. Because of our involvement
in local societies, anthropologists could provide early
warnings of abuses -- for example, by reporting data to
international human-rights organizations, and by joining the
dialogue at international conferences. When there is a choice
between defending human rights and defending cultural
relativism, anthropologists should choose to protect and
promote human rights. We cannot just be bystanders.
Carolyn Fluehr-Lobban is a professor of anthropology and
director of the Study Abroad/International Studies program at
Rhode Island College.