Ian Whitaker (1928–2016). Dr. Ian (Rice) Whitaker (Fig. 1) died on 19 May 2016 at his home in White Rock, British Columbia, Canada. He was a Professor Emeritus from Simon Fraser University and a key anthropological authority on circumpolar peoples. His wife Martha, daughter Kythe, son Ronan and grandchildren Dana, Brittany and Devon survive him. He was born in Nottingham, United Kingdom on 4 July 1928 to Thomas Rice and Gertrude Whitaker (33rd Baroness de la Ville de Beuge) (Lumley 2007). After his initial education at the University of St. Andrews, he went on to earn a B.A. and M.A. at the University of Cambridge and a Dr. Phil. at the University of Oslo.

Summoning the popularity and prestige of cinema, the Iraq Petroleum Company (IPC) invented the image of Baghdad for Iraqi audiences as the sight/site of oil modernity in the 1950s. In other words, oil urbanization, or the modernization of the city as shaped by the petroleum industry and its revenues, in Iraq cannot be understood apart from the representation of Baghdad as visible evidence of petroleum's promise to benefit the national population. The British-controlled oil company in Iraq produced a programme of at least two-dozen sponsored films and cine-magazine episodes between 1951 and 1958, which this essay examines as an emblematic case of neo-colonial film, constituting an archive of media practices that bridge the categories of colonial film on one hand, and industrial film on the other. After World War II, the Atlantic Charter reinforced the right to democratic self-rule as a global norm and the British state developed creative tactics to abet its continued control over strategic resources in its colonized territories. Oil above all became central to this story and, as this essay will show, British oil companies played a fundamental role towards reinventing the imperial project in the post-colonial context of Iraq. Through a contextualized analysis of the IPC films, I argue that the company public relations office utilized the conventional approaches and standard formats of colonial and industrial film – including montage, scripted voiceover and staged b-roll – to narrativize the association between neo-colonialist practices of oil extraction and national development as causal, inherent and positive.

Focusing on the history of US anthropology between World War II and the high point of the Vietnam War protests in the late 1960s, this paper aims to historicise the assumed epistemological divide between anthropological and legal thinking. It is shown how anthropology as a discipline in the US has restructured some of its basic assumptions and changed its institutional structure in the context of legal interventions in larger struggles, specifically the court-based battles against racial segregation and the legal proceedings related to indigenous land rights before the Indian Claims Commission. Special consideration is given to an analysis of how objectivity is conceptualised in the literature on anthropological expert witnessing: from mechanical objectivity before 1970 to critical objectivity after 1970. The paper concludes with a caveat against exaggerating existing epistemological differences between anthropology and law, and suggests a more pragmatic approach to interdisciplinary communication.

This paper explores the role of anthropological expertise in shaping the outcome of legal proceedings under conditions of cultural diversity. Taking the state-driven land-restitution process in post-apartheid South Africa as its point of reference, the text reflects upon the work of anthropological experts in a number of cases and shows how their theoretical and political stances shaped the trajectories of their legal engagements. Pointing towards frictions that emerge in acts of translation between the seemingly objectivist rhetoric evoked in court and more relativist and subjectivist stances within the academy, the paper revisits and problematises debates around strategic essentialism. Sketching instead the contours of a ‘recursive anthropology’ that expresses itself in terms of a post-positivist universalism, the paper turns on the author's use of his own expertise in support of a White land claim, probing – and critically reflecting upon – the practical potential of a form of expertise grounded in such a recursive anthropology.

The existence of an icy continent around the South Pole is known to everybody today. But it is common to ascribe this kind of modern knowledge to navigators sailing in southern polar waters in the 19th century. A good illustration of this is the Russian Antarctic expedition (1819–1821) under the conduct of Fabian Gottlieb von Bellingshausen (Russian version Faddej Faddeevich Bellinsgauzen), the reception of which in Russian society of the 19th and 20th centuries is analysed in this article. During the cold war, beginning at the end of the 1940s, the question of who discovered Antarctica turned from being a scientific problem into a subject of political struggle between the United States of America, Great Britain and the Soviet Union. This article provides an analysis of the Russian discovery in the area, while at the same time, attempting to give an answer to the main question of the history of Antarctic exploration which is: is it well-justified to establish the first discoverer of Antarctica? All the dates in the text are according to the Gregorian calendar.

Using both long forgotten and newly available steles from North China, this article looks at these ancient monuments to explore the rise and evolution of an epigraphic practice under Jurchen and Mongol rules (1127–1368). In particular it looks at steles erected to record genealogical information (called xianyingbei in general) in north China during the twelfth to fourteenth centuries, which was a new usage for the stele in the area. The article's main aim is to demonstrate how cultural integration among different social strata was triggered by the invasions of the Jurchen and Mongol conquerors, which in turn led to the formation of a new and legitimate way to compile family genealogies in north China.

One early spring afternoon in 1982 I happened to find myself ambling along Fuzhou Road in Shanghai and coming by chance upon a small unattractive bookstore. The brown paint on its outer doors was peeling, the stucco surface of its exterior needed a good scrubbing, and more than a few tiles on its floor were broken. If then no different in appearance from the other bookstores I had earlier visited along this famous Shanghai book street, this store nonetheless boasted a strikingly different kind of stock: it specialized in selling second-hand Western books. While novels abounded on its shelves, the pre-war variety in hardback and the more recent in paperback, one thick non-fiction volume caught my eye. Entitled Domesday Book and Beyond, this classic 1887 treatment of early English history by the great English legal historian Frederic W. Maitland had long been on my reading list. Somehow a copy of it had ended up in this unpromising bookshop. When I opened the virtually virgin pages of this copy and noticed that it could be bought for a proverbial song, I readily leapt to the temptation and acquired it with delight.

During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, people in north China took advantage of a Mongol policy that gave Buddhist officials a status equivalent to what civil officials enjoyed, as a strategy for family advancement. Monk Zhang Zhiyu and his family provide a case study of an emerging influential Buddhist order based at Mount Wutai that connected the Yuan regime with local communities through the kinship ties of prominent monks. Within this Buddhist order, powerful monks like Zhiyu used their prestigious positions in the clerical world to help the upward social mobility of their lay families, displaying a distinctive pattern of interpenetration between Buddhism and family. This new pattern also fit the way that northern Chinese families used Buddhist structures such as Zunsheng Dhāranῑ pillars and private Buddhist chapels to record their genealogies and consolidate kinship ties.