The Ancient Roots of Modern Politics (Part 1)

“Politics,” said Frank Zappa, “is the entertainment division of the military-industrial complex.” One of the many ways this “entertainment” holds our attention is to repackage ancient disagreements as if they were always new. Every election is “the most important election in your lifetime.” Every few years we’re told this may be our last chance to “preserve democracy,” “restore sanity,” or “send a message” to the powers that be.

And it’s true: every election is a new battle in an ancient war that began roughly ten thousand years ago when some people turned away from living as their ancestors had forever, to a new approach to survival.

Rather than relying on moving through their abundant surroundings finding what they needed, these folks settled down and started manipulating the land, the water, and the animals to coax more food than they needed, with a surplus to save or trade.

The so-called agricultural revolution was not just a massive change in how people related to food; this shift represented a revolution in every aspect of human existence.

While foragers respected and revered women, farmers reduced them to possessions. Because foragers had no accumulated resources, war was senseless and rare. But among farming communities, war became a constant concern as stored food, grazing animals, and fertile lands offered something worth fighting over. Epidemic disease, famine, slavery — all unknown to foragers — were common among agriculturalists. Where forager politics was centered on shared power and inclusion, farmers were hierarchical and ruthless.

Anthropologist Christopher Boehm studied politics and power in foragers for over four decades. When he combed through anthropological field reports on the 150 or so immediate return hunter-gatherer societies that have been studied by anthropologists, his meta-analysis revealed that without exception generosity and altruism are consistently favored toward relatives and non-relatives alike. “Nomadic foragers are universally — and all but obsessively — concerned with being free from the authority of others,” Boehm writes. “That is the basic thrust of their political ethos. . . . This egalitarian approach appears to be universal for foragers who live in small bands that remain nomadic, suggesting considerable antiquity for political egalitarianism.”

Selfish individual looking to exploit the generosity of other foragers are viewed as pitiful and potentially dangerous, likely to be nudged off the nearest cliff or suffer a “hunting accident” if they didn’t change their ways.

Egalitarianism among foragers doesn’t imply that there are no differences in ability or accomplishment, or that foragers don’t have their own hierarchies. Rather, they are careful to assure that hierarchies of status and admiration don’t interfere with equal opportunity and access to resources. Archaeologist Robert Kelly explains:

The term egalitarian does not mean that all members have the same amount of goods, food, prestige, or authority. Egalitarian societies are … those in which everyone has equal access to food, to the technology needed to acquire resources, and to the paths leading to prestige. The critical element of egalitarianism, then, is individual autonomy…. The maintenance of an egalitarian society requires effort.

Boehm makes the counterintuitive argument that egalitarianism requires close attention to hierarchy. To maintain their egalitarian social groups, foragers constantly celebrate and reinforce their anti-hierarchical social codes. “If a stable egalitarian hierarchy is to be achieved,” according to Boehm, “the basic flow of power in society must be reversed definitively” so that common people maintain the upper hand over those with ambitions that could upset the balance.

We see this ancient democratic impulse at the heart of democratic ideals, and expressed in representative government. What is the message of “one person, one vote” and “all people are created equal” if not the articulation of this quintessentially anti-dominance disposition we’ve inherited from fiercely egalitarian ancestors?

Modern political struggles taking place around the world reflect this ancient question: Will I be safer and happier in an egalitarian society where we share resources and take care of one another (higher taxes, universal health care, women’s/gay rights, free education, etc.), or will I be better off in a hierarchical society where I’m on my own (lower taxes, “traditional” marriage, no regulations, open carry, etc.)? These ancient questions remain in search of modern answers.