The collaborative paradigm

The publication in 2008 of Chip Colwell and T.J. Ferguson's edited volume Collaboration in archaeological practice and Stephen Silliman's Collaborating at the trowel's edge ushered in a new era of archaeological research grounded in ethical and engaged partnerships with descendant communities (see Meloche et al. Reference Meloche, Spake and Nichols2020: 5). The development of this collaborative research paradigm coincided with the growth of Indigenous Archaeology—a specific subset of collaborative archaeologies—to which the wider paradigm is greatly indebted (Watkins Reference Watkins2000; Zimmerman Reference Zimmerman and Killion2008; Nicholas et al. Reference Nicholas, Roberts, Schaepe, Watkins, Leader-Elliot and Rowley2011). Indigenous Archaeology explicitly incorporates into archaeological theory and practice “Indigenous values, knowledge, practices, ethics, and sensibilities” (Nicholas Reference Nicholas and Pearsall2008: 1666; e.g. Silliman Reference Silliman2008; Nicholas et al. Reference Nicholas, Roberts, Schaepe, Watkins, Leader-Elliot and Rowley2011; Atalay Reference Atalay2012; Atalay et al. Reference Atalay, Clauss, Mcguire and Welch2014; Watkins Reference Watkins2014). As early as 1989, Aymara historian Carlos Mamani also articulated a vision for Indigenous Archaeology in South America, emphasising not only the deeper integration of Indigenous knowledge and values but a commitment to making space for Indigenous peoples to practise archaeology on their own terms (Ayala Reference Ayala2020: 30). Over the past 20 years, Indigenous Archaeology has gained global traction, taking on a wide range of forms including archaeological projects on ancestral Indigenous lands, theoretical interventions centring Indigenous worldviews, the development of Tribal Historic Preservation Offices and tribal museums, and capacity building among Indigenous communities (Watkins Reference Watkins2014; Schmidt & Pikirayi Reference Schmidt and Pikirayi2016; Supernant Reference Supernant2020; Acabado & Martin Reference Acabado and Martin2022).

Disciplinary engagements with collaborative methodologies have accelerated over the past decade. This trend is reflected in the steady increase in the numbers of research papers referencing these topics presented at the annual meetings of the SAA and American Anthropological Association (AAA; Figure 1). Over the course of 10 years, the percentage of presentations at the SAA annual meeting referencing collaboration increased from roughly 3 per cent in 2012 to over 7 per cent in 2021. Over this same time span, there was a similar, albeit unsteady, increase in the percentage of collaborative and community-engaged research papers presented by participants at the AAA annual meeting (roughly two per cent in 2012 to nearly five per cent in 2021).

Figure 1.

A comparative assessment of the percentage of conference talks referencing collaborative research practices, 2012–21 (figure by the authors).

We differentiate this growth in the collaborative paradigm from what some might term the ‘public archaeology’ paradigm, which emerged in the 1980s in response to calls for improved heritage-based education. While the collaborative paradigm centres on building sustainable and reciprocal power-sharing partnerships with local and descendant communities, public archaeology is a much broader concept that includes archaeological projects funded by the public, orientated around science education, or that incorporate non-specialists with no specific ties to the research (Richardson & Almansa-Sánchez Reference Richardson and Almansa-Sánchez2015). Patricia McAnany and Sarah Rowe (Reference McAnany and Rowe2015: 504) note that the call for improved public relations—though ethically commendable—was not “driven by a desire to enfranchise community members as participants in the research process”. Rather, it was “a way to foment greater appreciation for archaeology as a discipline and to secure the role of archaeologists as primary stewards of the archaeological record”. Similarly, Shannon Dawdy (Reference Dawdy2009: 137–8) has critiqued these types of projects as “public relations” archaeology, arguing that they do not redistribute power but rather attempt to preserve the power of archaeologists as stewards by bolstering public support for status-quo archaeology.

Research and community engagement at the African Burial Ground in New York offers one early example of the collaborative approach in action. Lead archaeologist Michael Blakey has referred to their work as a “clientage model” (Blakey Reference Blakey2020: 191). This model positions archaeologists as in the service of specific communities—in this case, New York's Black community—while also recognising that the efficacy of the service provided may lay in the expertise and professional capacities of archaeologists and other researchers on-site.

More recently, collaborative work with Indigenous and descendant communities has been framed using Community-Based Participatory Research (CBPR) models. Sonya Atalay (Reference Atalay2012: 4) defines CBPR as an approach to research that fosters equal partnerships between researchers and community members by combining or “braiding” knowledge from different traditions and perspectives in the conceptualisation, development, execution and dissemination of archaeological projects. The CBPR approach differs from earlier theorisations of collaboration in its insistence on the shared stewardship of heritage resources and the incorporation of Indigenous and descendant communities in all phases of archaeological research. Clientage models and CBPR approaches each represent a significant shift along the collaborative continuum towards full community control of archaeological research and cultural heritage management. While CBPR positions archaeologists and communities as equal partners, in many ways the clientage framework represents a more radical reformulation of power by defining archaeologists as the ‘employees’ of specific communities.

Trends in collaborative research

While archaeology “is undergoing a fundamental sea change” (Wylie Reference Wylie, Cartwright and Montuschi2014: 69), in some ways our review ultimately indicates that this paradigm remains a small, albeit vocal, subset of the field. Within the still-emerging paradigm of collaborative research, we note three trends in the scope of research with Indigenous and descendant communities: diversification in who is conducting collaborative research; the normalisation of CBPR research designs; and a greater engagement with critical theory.

Normalisation and global influence

The regional distribution of conference papers at the SAA and AAA meetings that discuss collaboration and community engagement shows that a significant component of this research is focused on North America (Figure 2). Community collaborative research is, however, also growing in other areas of the Americas. In their path-charting collection, Indigenous peoples and archaeology in Latin America, Cristóbal Gnecco and Patricia Ayala (Reference Gnecco and Rocabaldo2011) note that, although the language of collaboration and participation has begun to infiltrate Latin American archaeologies, there is reason for scepticism about progress to date, if optimism for the future. They remind us that neither collaboration nor participation have real meaning if context is ignored. That context is summarised by Maya K'iche’ sociologist Avexnim Cojtí Ren, who lamented over a decade ago: “the reconstruction of our history by archaeology must benefit the interests and needs of living Maya, yet we are still excluded from archaeological research management and from the interpretation of our own past” (Ren Reference Ren2006: 14) because the “Maya past is considered a common good to be shared with the international community, rather than a cultural right for Maya to decide how our past will be shared with other people” (Ren Reference Ren2006: 13).

Figure 2.

Comparison of conference talks referencing collaboration by regional focus between 2012 and 2021 (figure by the authors).

Nonetheless, there have been archaeologists from Latin America, working in Latin America, who have steadfastly applied the principles of community-based research in their work (e.g. Hernández Álvarez & Martín Medina Reference Hernàndez Àlvarez and Martìn Medina2016; Balanzátegui Moreno Reference Balanzátegui Moreno2018; Ichikawa Reference Ichikawa2018; Migeon Reference Migeon2019; Diserens Morgan & Leventhal Reference Diserens Morgan and Leventhal2020; Harrison-Buck & Clarke-Vivier Reference Harrison-Buck and Clarke-Viver2020; Fryer & Diserens Morgan Reference Fryer, Diserens Morgan and Barton2021; McAnany et al. Reference McAnany, Dedrick, Batún Alpuche, Panich and Gonzalez2021; Hartemann Reference Hartemann2022; Weaver et al. Reference Weaver, Fhon Bazán and Santana Quispe2022). One particularly strong example is the El Proyecto Santa María de la Antigua del Darién project which began in 2013 at the behest of the Colombian Ministry of Culture, the National University of Colombia, and the Colombian Institute of Anthropology and History. Despite being housed under these regulatory institutions, this project was conceived as a community-based endeavour—a major break from conventional archaeological practice in Colombia (Sarcina Reference Sarcina2021). The historical narrative around Santa Maria has typically focused on the site's status as the first Spanish settlement on mainland America, often glossing over the violent impacts of colonisation on local Indigenous peoples and on enslaved Africans brought to the colony. Conducting community-based archaeology that intentionally involves Embera and Guna (Indigenous Colombians) as well as Santa Maria's African descendant community has reoriented the nation's archaeological practice more explicitly around social justice.

The Santa María de la Antigua del Darién project's working model was determined by the community and has led to field-school training that offers opportunities to community members who may not previously have been able to access more formal education (e.g. Silliman Reference Silliman2008; Cipolla & Quinn Reference Cipolla and Quinn2016; Seyler Reference Seyler2017; Gonzalez & Edwards Reference Gonzalez and Edwards2020). A major result of the project has been the creation of a community-based museum, La Casa Patrimonial, guided by the Darien Cultural Committee (DCC). Like the Montpelier Descendant Community discussed previously, the DCC was composed of local representatives tasked with managing the site and creating intercultural spaces for dialogue. The formation of this committee was important because of the ongoing political unrest that has characterised the region for decades (for a similarly difficult context, see Horning Reference Horning2019). The wider project demonstrates that building archaeological research agendas alongside community collaborators not only can chart generative research directions but also (where circumstances demand) can help repair community relations and advance new, more equitable historical narratives.

Troubling collaborative research: concluding thoughts

V. Camille Westmont and Elizabeth Clay (Reference Westmont and Clay2022: 206) have argued that:

Westmont and Clay's critique draws attention to some of the complexities which surround collaboration with descendant communities—complexities that the Montpelier controversy brought to the fore. The rationale provided by the Montpelier Board reflects challenges around defining descendant communities, the role of archaeologists and heritage management organisations in mediating between descendant voices, and ongoing power imbalances between descendants and archaeologists.

Defining ‘community’ within the collaborative paradigm presents a continuing philosophical problem in archaeology (Agbe-Davies Reference Agbe-davies2010, Reference Agbe-davies2011; Crooke Reference Crooke2010; Martindale & Nicholas Reference Martindale and Nicholas2014; Supernant & Warrick Reference Supernant and Warrick2014). These intellectual struggles are reflected in practice by the Montpelier Board's attempts to redefine the boundaries of descendant representation and the MDC's resistance to these efforts. Like other heterogeneous communities, descendants of formerly enslaved Africans at Montpelier have various relationships to and opinions about the site, the history of slavery, and the representation of ‘dark heritage’—heritage produced in times of conflict, death, suffering and trauma (Thomas et al. Reference Thomas, Herva, Seitsonen, Koskinen-Koivisto and Smith2019; Westmont Reference Westmont2022).

Related to these representational issues is the question of what role, if any, archaeologists and heritage professionals should play in defining and mediating between different descendant voices. When working with descendant communities, archaeologists are asked to make decisions about which communities to collaborate with (Supernant & Warrick Reference Supernant and Warrick2014). To date, many archaeologists have approached this issue through the principle of multivocality, welcoming and incorporating numerous stakeholder perspectives and values to expand understandings of the past, present and future (Atalay et al. Reference Atalay, Clauss, Mcguire and Welch2014: 11–12). While the concept of multivocality has broadened who archaeologists are in dialogue with this approach has also been critiqued for failing to reform structural power dynamics in the field (a key goal of decolonisation). From this vantage point, multivocality represents a problematic “move to innocence” that reconciles settler guilt around past injustices while maintaining current systems of power that recentre Whiteness (Tuck & Yang Reference Tuck and Yang2012: 3).

As Fryer and Raczek (Reference Fryer and Raczek2020) have argued, while multivocality is an admirable principle it may also allow us as practitioners to be too agnostic (sensu Brumann Reference Brumann2014) about the groups we decide to collaborate with and on what terms. Sometimes, we would argue, what is at stake in a collaborative endeavour has everything to do with who our collaborators are and are not. There are often legitimate reasons, such as a history of injustice, to prioritise the interests and voices of some stakeholders over others. The senior archaeologists at Montpelier who put their jobs on the line—and ultimately sacrificed them—were committed to this principle.

While there are clear historical and cultural differences between Black and Indigenous communities, the issues concerning identity and representation that arose around the MDC are mirrored in conversations around heritage, representation and Indigenous identity (e.g. Sobo et al. Reference Sobo, Lambert and Lambert2021). Much like the MDC, Indigenous communities are not homogeneous entities. In addition to internal diversity, Indigenous communities hold varied forms of political status which have meaningful impacts on heritage management and collaboration. In the USA alone, there are 574 federally recognised Tribal Nations that hold a political status as ‘domestic dependent nations’. As federally recognised tribes, these Indigenous communities possess certain rights, federal benefits, services and protections that extend to the archaeological record (for more on sovereignty and recognition in the North American context, see Barker Reference Barker2005). There are many more Indigenous peoples in the USA, however, who are recognised only at the state level, and others who lack any legally defined status. Forms of representational boundary maintenance, whether self-imposed by descendant communities, such as the MDC or legally constructed as in the case of federal and state recognition, inevitably end up excluding some descendants from issues of heritage management. In building collaborative projects, we argue that archaeologists must educate themselves about these different statuses and their political implications for conducting collaborative research. While Native Nations and settler colonial governments have created a legal (albeit flawed) framework for defining Indigenous communities in the USA and Canada, for Latin America and the Caribbean the heuristic lines between local, descendant and Indigenous communities are less clear. As Chickasaw anthropologist Shannon Speed (Reference Speed2017: 784) tells us, “colonialism in much of Latin America has in fact been characterized by both land dispossession and labor extraction [key mechanisms of settler colonialism], to which Indigenous peoples were simultaneously subjected”. This often results in the racialisation and proletarianisation of Indigenous peoples into a subnational class rather than an autonomous or sovereign entity, creating a context wherein identifying direct descendants with whom to partner may feel nearly impossible. The state often exploits this impossibility by nationalising all forms of heritage that cannot be claimed by a specific family or recognised community lineage.

We believe that the deep entanglement between colonialism, dispossession and Indigenous recognition in Latin America requires a model of research that transcends settler colonial legal systems. Archaeologists working in the region should not use non-recognition as an excuse to bypass the need to seek substantive collaborations with those communities. Instead, we promote a flexible construction of community that allows archaeologists to prioritise collaborating with those communities who face unjust power imbalances—regardless of their capacity to prove or perform a specific indigeneity or locality (e.g. see Matthews Reference Matthews2022). It is simply insufficient to throw up our hands and seek the bare minimum (e.g. state-issued permits or approval from a small contingent of nondescript ‘locals’) because identifying the community is too difficult. Failing to do so perpetuates an extractive mindset that is antithetical to the ethos of the collaborative paradigm.

Finally, the Montpelier scenario reveals the precarious power of descendant communities and the continued need to push against dominant heritage regimes that place control of archaeological resources in the hands of predominantly white institutions and experts. We are reminded here too that archaeologists may find themselves contributing to partnerships where they are not the arbiters and where they will have to make a choice about where on the collaborative continuum they want to be: leaning toward the colonial or advocating for the community. Although the Montpelier Board aspires to achieve parity in terms of descendant representation among its membership (Montpelier 2021), this controversy reveals a slippage between the ideals of representativeness and equality and the realities of implementing structural changes that serve the goals of social justice (La Salle & Hutchings Reference La Salle and Hutchings2016: 171). As the collaborative paradigm continues to expand, we hope to see more archaeologists transparently grappling with the complexities of real power sharing and investing substantial efforts in capacity building and empowerment within Black, Indigenous, and othered descendant communities.

In the end, we chose to title our article, ‘The future of archaeology is (still) community collaboration’ because the potential of community collaboration has yet to be fully realised. Despite intrepid individuals having conducted various forms of collaborative work for some decades, only now are we seeing our professional organisations take action, for example, urging tenure and promotion committees to recognise the arduous labour of seeing through the work involved in these kinds of collaborations (ACC 2023). Unfortunately, we still hear well-meaning colleagues confuse consultation or conversation for collaboration. While we celebrate the growth in collaborative community-based research in archaeology, we ultimately agree with Westmont and Clay's argument that collaboration is not sufficient in and of itself to reform the power imbalances within the discipline. Furthermore, we echo their call for continued self-reflection on how collaborative research may inadvertently perpetuate systemic inequities in heritage management (Westmont & Clay Reference Westmont and Clay2022: 205–6). Until we surmount the challenges and disincentives to implementing community-centred collaborations it will be difficult to disentangle our own failures from structural incapacitation.