MAKING SENSE Three essays show how attending closely to the ways in which sense is produced can help us make better sense of things.

The scene that unfolded in the plaza of Cajamarca on Saturday, 16 November 1532, is one of the most loaded in the Spanish conquest of the Inca Empire. That day the Inca Atahualpa, head of an empire of several million extending from present day Ecuador to Chile, surrounded by his powerful army, was captured by 168 men. The attack took place after the exchange of a book and words in the middle of the plaza, between the Inca and fray Vicente de Valverde, head clergyman of the conquest party lead by Francisco Pizarro. The scene has been the object of much debate, both in the sixteenth century, when it rapidly became part of Europeans' colonial imagination, and in the present. This essay's goal is to offer an alternative interpretation of Cajamarca, which addresses a simple, under-explored question: Why did the meeting occur in the way it did? Why was Atahualpa there, exposing himself to some dangerous looters, why did the Spanish not attack directly if the ambush was ready? To anticipate my conclusion, I argue that Cajamarca happened as it did because it was the necessary final act of a long chain of improvised moves, which responded to culturally specific political dilemmas. Its dynamic reflected a radical uncertainty common to contact processes, but left aside by most scholarship. Recovering this, I suggest, speaks not only to the case in point, but to the mechanics of power and coloniality across space and time.

In the Tibetan Buddhist monastery town of Labrang, located in southwest Gansu Province, China, the past is a heavy, and very often hidden, burden for residents and visitors alike (figure 1). This is not readily apparent amidst the bustling ‘nowness’ of commercial activities in this tourist site and model town for the profitable coexistence of Tibetan Buddhist monasticism and Chinese state-sponsored development goals. But as I discovered over the course of my fieldwork there in the mid-1990s, and again in the summer of 2002, for a population living with unsanctioned memories of the traumatic ruptures of the Chinese Communist-led revolution beginning in 1949, the ‘unsaid’ of history spoke loudly in implication—in implied dialogue with multimedia official histories, in the gaps in written and oral chronologies of events, in the revived performance of the lay and monastic ritual calendars, and in the dodges and silences of my Tibetan interlocutors during our many conversations about their pasts: “I don't know anything! I'm too young, you know!” (Tibetan [Tib.] ngas shes ni ma red, nga lo chung gi mo). Ama Drolma, a village matriarch in her late fifties, repeated this adamantly to me after I and my Tibetan woman assistant had asked her for a taped interview about local “history” (Tib. lo rgyus). She would hear none of our explanations about my interest in people's personal histories and insisted that I seek out old men, they would know about “early, early, early times” (Tib. sngan na sngan na sngan na).

The vigorous revival of institutionalist theories and methods among economists, political scientists, and other social scientists has prompted a broad reconsideration of how political and economic preferences are transformed into social outcomes. In much of the professional literature, this change has stimulated a shift away from behavioral and empirical methods to those that rely on interpretation of the historical evolution of policies in an organizational framework. Focusing on topics as disparate as the implementation of Keynesian economic policies in the 1930s, United States civil service reform at the turn of the twentieth century, or the evolution of property and other rights in early modern England, institutionalist studies by sociologists, political scientists, and economists have, increasingly, addressed problems by using historical narratives.

Andrew Walder's “neo-traditional” image of Chinese socialism has profoundly shaped understanding of China before market reform. It has also influenced the broader debate on the nature of ‘actually existing socialisms.’ Walder argues that the Communist state dominated the industrial workforce through the institutionalization of organized dependence and clientelism in the workplace. State-appointed management tightly controlled access to goods, services, and positions and used these resources to reward cooperative workers and activists. Their actions created webs of clientelist relations but also a chasm on the shop floor, as ordinary workers resented the activists for acting against workers' general interest. But since ordinary workers could rarely obtain what they wanted beyond the factory, they, too, curried favors from factory officials. Walder observes that the growth of clientelist relations and personal ties within the industrial enterprise dampened workers' capacity for collective resistance and their pursuit of their personal welfare further depoliticized the working class. As a result, workers exhibited “a stable pattern of tacit acceptance and active cooperation” toward Communist political rule.

What is the status of Islamic traditions of discourse and practice in Turkey as it is ever more self-consciously heir to the Islamic heritage of the Ottoman Empire, and yet has seen such dramatic social, economic, and political transformation during the last two centuries? In recent years a considerable and ever-increasing proportion of scholarly and popular effort has been directed on the part of self-identifying Islamist (İslâmcı) writers in Turkey toward addressing these issues by way of genealogies of contemporary social forms and practices—critical histories of the present. Simultaneously, methodological debates about the nature of sources and interpretation have begun to appear with increasing regularity in monographs, journals, and even dailies. These two concerns with the status of the present and correct method are not solely the concern of Islamist writers in Turkey; indeed, they are arguably the prevailing mode of history and social science writing in Turkey today. As we shall see, informing both of these currents is an interrogation of the grounds from which authoritative, normative discourses on Islamic practice can be elaborated in the wake of empire and sovereign reform on the near-margin of industrial capitalism. At stake are not only discourses, or ‘representations’ of Islamic tradition. Like other traditions, central to Islam is the discursive elaboration of normative judgments about correct practice; indeed, these discursive elaborations are important Islamic practices. The critical work currently flourishing in Turkey is thus conceived by its practitioners as an important form of contribution to the elaboration of Islamic traditions and entails important diagnoses of the status of enabling conditions for Islamic practice in the contemporary world. This article argues that attending to these interrogations indicates how the study of changes in Islamic discourse and practice in Turkey has profound implications for the issues of power and agency in modernity and Islam more broadly. Particularly in the context of Turkey's intensified juridical, economic, and political restructuring in dialogue with the European Community, an understanding of these currents in the Islamic discursive culture of Turkey offers insight into the oft-commented but poorly understood structure of the relationship between Turkey, Europe, and modernity.

Most education in the pre-colonial Middle East and South Asia was inextricably permeated by religion, in that it relied heavily on study or memorization of religious scriptures and rituals for the purpose of training believers, or on the use of religious texts or stories to teach ostensibly secular subjects such as geography or history. Colonial penetration of these areas introduced a new model of Western education, in which the curriculum was dominated by material whose truth claims were not based on religious faith, and which were not taught through the medium of religious texts. Religion, if allowed at all, was confined to discrete classes on the topic. This marginalization or exclusion of religious material did not necessarily mean that the resulting education was inexorably secular: Gauri Viswanathan has demonstrated that British educators in India circumvented policies forbidding the teaching of Christianity in government schools by creating English literature courses designed “to convey the message of the Bible.” In contrast to its predecessors, however, Western-style education was based on the conceptualization of religion as a discrete subject separate from and incapable of shedding reliable light upon worldly matters, and on the premise that it was mastery of these worldly matters, rather than knowledge of sacred scriptures and rituals, that would bring students success. In this model, religion would be understood “as a new historical object: anchored in personal experience, expressible as belief-statements, dependent on private institutions and practiced in one's spare time.”

Marshall Sahlins (1996) argues that anthropology has been the bearer of a “bourgeoisified” Judeo-Christian cosmology according to which an original state of chaos, akin to the Hobbesian state of nature, gives way to the order of society or the state. The central conundrum that this anthropology has sought to explain is how fallen and needy individuals come together in cooperative organization. Sahlins furthermore contends that, by universalizing this problematic as the key to interpreting human societies and social action, anthropology has subverted its attempts at cross-cultural understanding. My aim in this paper is to draw attention to a growing commitment within anthropology to a different cosmological paradigm with an inverse structure. Today, the elevation of ethnic and cultural hybridity as both an approximate return to primordial human unity and an emancipatory moral high ground renders socio-cultural difference at once the presumed telos of many social practices and a scandal to be overcome. Whereas the older anthropological cosmology uncovered by Sahlins posited progress from atomistic privation to social solidarity, this new cosmology posits the politically motivated splintering of essential human unity by the construction of ethnicity and culture. Although I iterate the caution that this emergent paradigm too has the potential to reproduce itself as ethnography, I emphasize as more important its promising and troubling potential to revalorize anthropological thinking on cosmology. Specifically, ownership of the meta-cosmology encoded in hybridity theory ought to prompt anthropologists to question our recently acquired aversion to the idea that cosmologies inform human action. At the same time, however, we need to scrutinize our fascination with hybridity for signs of an unintentionally Nietzschean glorification of dissolution or aestheticization of periodic destruction as the necessary foundation for political and moral renovation.

What role do specific geographic, political, and historical contexts play in how gendered identities and practices are mobilized to negotiate larger structures of inequality? Through innovative efforts to come to terms with the very contingent and situated nature of gender formation, four recent books reconfirm the important contributions of gender studies of Latin America to feminist studies in general. These texts apply unique methods of analysis to investigate gender's production in specific places and moments, thus producing new insights into how gender is articulated within particular translocal configurations of power. In particular, these texts ask: How does biography inform social activism against global neoliberal economic adjustments? How do discourses on sex provide the foundation for gendered forms of modern national culture and social control? How do local production strategies engender neoliberal labor in new ways? Through questions like these, the texts push us to consider gender not as a ubiquitous concept that can be taken for granted, but rather as a varied and relational process grounded in distinct material and historical conditions.

The book Marx's Ghosts: Conversations with Archaeologists by Thomas Patterson is divided into five chapters with a preface and an introduction. It opens with an autobiographical preface that spells out the author's encounter with Marxism, from his young years in California to academia on the East coast, at Harvard and Temple, and finally, back to the West coast at University of California–Riverside. The book's aim is clearly stated in the introduction: to explore the many dimensions of Marxism in archaeological practice and discourse on two principal topics—the rise of civilization and the origins of states.

Using anthropological, historical, and political science approaches, Pamela Ballinger demonstrates how memory shapes Istrian understandings of Italian identity. World War II and the events of 1945, specifically the creation of the Free Territory of Trieste and the division of the upper Adriatic territory into Allied and Yugoslav administered zones, form the backdrop for the study that concentrates on the crystallization of collective memory for Istrian esuli (exiles who settled in Trieste) and rimasti (those who remained in Yugoslavia). Grounded in the literature re-evaluating the impact of the Cold War, her work skillfully weaves a narrative that uncovers competing visions as well as common tropes in Istrian visions of ‘Italianness’ constructed in the climate of state formation and dissolution since World War I. Ballinger's major contribution is her analysis of the “multi-directionality” of identity formation (p. 45) that has implications far beyond the Istrian case.

After more than seventy years of secularist rule in Turkey, victory of the Islam-based Welfare Party in the mid-1990s came as a surprise to many political observers. Electoral support for religious party politics increased despite heavy pressures from the secular army and state officials. Based on over twenty years of ethnographic research in a low-income neighborhood in Istanbul, Jenny White's Islamist Mobilization in Turkey explores the basis of this support and the meaning it carries in the daily lives of people.

In Doctors Within Borders, Ming-cheng Lo discusses the experience of Taiwanese doctors under Japanese colonial rule. By examining the viewpoints of colonial subjects, this work expands our understanding of colonialism in East Asia. The position of Taiwanese doctors continuously fluctuated between the colonial state, Taiwan society, and the culture of their medical profession. These doctors were ‘in-betweens’ in various ways. They received colonial education, and benefited from the Japanese rule, but at the same time they were a part of the Taiwan ethnic community. Though they enjoyed liberalism and autonomy within their professional culture, they remained subordinate to their Japanese mentors and colleagues. While they were the most modernized or ‘Japanized’ elements in Taiwan, they nonetheless engaged in social movements and contributed to the formation of Taiwan's civil society.