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somethingfamiliar n the feeling of being lost in anthropologicalexperience?Wittgenstein'sfear,"the seed I amlikely to sow is a certain argon" Diamond

1976:293), is to be respectedso thatthe translationof his ideas intoanthropol-ogy shouldnot be takenas the opportunity or merelya new set of terms. In-steadof renderinga systematicaccount of any one aspectof his philosophy,Ishall try to follow a few lines of thoughtthatmight interestanthropologists,hopingto convey the tones andsoundsofWittgenstein's words.My thought snot thatthiswill helpus reachnew goals but that tmight helpus stopfor a mo-ment: to introducea hesitancyin the way in which we habituallydwell amongourconceptsof culture,of everydaylife, or of the inner.Inthis effortI am in-debtedto the work of StanleyCavell,whose thoughtson severalof these ques-

tionshave acted like signpostsinmy own efforts to move withinPhilosophicalInvestigations.

THE PICTURE OF CULTURE

Definitions

In his recent, passionatework on the "anthropography"f violence, Daniel

(1997) is moved to say, "Anthropologyhas had an answer to the question,

What s a humanbeing?An answerthathas,on thewhole, served us well, withor withoutborrowingsfromphilosophers.The answerkeeps returning o one

formor anotherof the conceptof culture:humanshave it; otherliving beingsdo not"(p. 194).He goes on to discuss how Tylor's(1974) foundingdefinition

of culturehelpedto move it away fromthe "clutchesof literature,philosophy,classical music, and the fine arts-in otherwords, from the conceit of the Hu-

manities"(Daniel 1997:194). Let us considerfor a moment the actual defini-

tion proposed by Tylor: "Cultureor civilization taken in its widest ethno-

graphicsense, is that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art,

morals,law,custom,andanyothercapabilitiesandhabitsacquiredby man as amemberof society"(Tylor 1974:1).What s interesting nthisdefinitionis not

only the all-inclusivenatureof culturebut also the referenceto it as capabilityand habitacquiredby man as a memberof society. As Asad (1990) hasnoted,this notion of culturewith its enumerationof capabilitiesandhabits,as well as

the focus on learning,gave way in time to the idea of cultureas text"that s as

somethingresemblinganinscribed ext"(p. 171).Withinthis dominantnotion

of cultureas text, the process of learningcame to be seen as shapingthe indi-

vidualbody as a pictureof this text, inscribingmemoryoften throughpainful

rituals so that the society and cultureof which the individual is a memberismadepresent,so to say, on the surfaceof thebody(Clasteres1974,Das 1995a,Durkheim1976). The scene of instruction n Wittgenstein(1953) is entirelydifferent.



WITTGENSTEINAND ANTHROPOLOGY 173

Scenes of Instruction

Philosophical Investigations beginswith an evocation of the words of

Augustine in Confessions.This opening scene has been the object of varying

interpretations.The passage reads as follows:

Whenthey (my elders)named some object,andaccordinglymoved towards

something, I saw this and graspedthat the thing they called was the sound

they utteredwhen they meant to point it out. Their intention was shewn bytheirbodily movements,as itwere the natural anguageof allpeoples:the ex-

pressionof the face, the play of the eyes, the movementof otherpartsof the

body, and the tone of voice which expresses our state of mind in seeking,having, or avoiding something. Thus as I heard words repeatedlyused in

their proper places in various sentences, I graduallylearnt to understandwhat objects they signified; and afterI had trainedmy mouthto formthese

signs, I used them to express my own desires. (Wittgenstein 1953:para.1)

Stanley Cavell (1982, 1990), who has given the most sustainedreadingofthispassage, senses here thepresenceof the child who moves invisible amonghis or herelders and who must divinespeechfor himself orherself,training hemouth to formsigns so thathe or she mayuse these signs to expresshis orherown desires.Now contrast his scene of instructionwith the famous builders'

scene, which follows soon afterin Wittgenstein(1953:para.2):

Let us imagine a languagefor which the description given by Augustine is

right.Thelanguageis meantto serve for communicationbetween abuilderAandan assistantB. A is buildingwith building stones: thereareblocks, pil-lars, slabs, and beams. B has to pass the stones, andthat in order n which Aneeds them. For this purpose they use a language consisting of the words

"block","pillar","slab","beam".A calls themout;B bringsthe stone whichhe has learntto bringat such-and-sucha call.-Conceive this as a completeprimitivelanguage.

If we transpose he scene of instruction n which thechild moves amongthe

adults with thatof the builders,we mightsee thateven if the childwere to useonly four words, these may be uttered with charm, curiosity, a sense ofachievement.The child has a future n language.Thebuilders'language s, in a

way, closed. Wittgensteinwills us to conceive of this as a "completeprimitivelanguage."Yet as Cavell (1995) pointsout,there s no standing anguagegamefor imaginingwhatWittgensteinasks us to imaginehere.Ithas been noted of-ten enough thatWittgensteindoes not call upon any of the natural anguagesfrom which he could have taken his examples: Thus his game in this sec-tion-whether with reference to the child or the dreamlikesequenceby which

one mightarriveat an"understanding"f what thewordsfive redapplesmeanor with reference to the builders' language-is in the nature of a fiction

throughwhich his thoughtsmay be maintained n the region of the primitive.Butthe"primitive"hereis conceived as the builders'tribe,which seems bereft



174 DAS

of the possession of its cultureor of an undoubtedshared anguage-the lan-

guage the tribe uses is inventedlanguage,not to be confused either with the

natural anguagesfoundamong people who maintain ull formsof sociality orwith the languageof the child.

Wittgenstein'ssense of the child who moves aboutin his orher cultureun-seenby the eldersandwho has to inherithis orher cultureas if by theftappearsto find resonancein the anthropological iteraturen theregisterof the mytho-logical [for instance, in the bird nester myths analyzed by Levi-Strauss

(1969)]. Despite the studies on socialization,rarelyhas the question of howone comes to a sense of a sharedcultureas well as one's own voice in that cul-turein the context of everydaylife been addressedanthropologically. f asked

atall, thisquestionhas been formulatedas a questionof socializationas obedi-ence to a set of normativerules andprocedures.Butjuxtaposingthechildwiththe builders seems to suggest that whatever else it may be, the inheritanceofculture s notabout nheritinga certainset of rules ora certaincapacityto obeyorders.As Wittgenstein(1953:para.3) says, "Augustinedoes describe a sys-tem of communication:only not everythingwe call languageis this system."And then, as if the surestroute to understand his concept is to understand t

through heeyes of thechild,he pointsoutthatthe wordsin a gamelike ring-a-ring-a-rosesare to be understoodas both the words and the actions in which

theyare woven (Wittgenstein 1953:para.7).Concernwith childhoodin early anthropological iteraturehas not been ab-

sent but has been expressedthrough he intricaciesof age ranking,rites of pas-sage, attitudestoward someone called "theaveragechild,"andthe construc-tion of "childhood" n a given society. Both Nieuwenhuys (1996) and Rey-nolds (1995) haverecentlyshownhow sparsetheethnographicdescriptionsofchildrenand theiragency have been. Reynolds's (1995) work on political ac-tivism of childrenandyouthin the volatile and traumatic ontext of SouthAf-rica is specialbecause she shows how tales of folk heroesmighthaveprovided

a perspectiveto youngpeople with which to view their defianceof the regimeof apartheideven as they had to negotiate questionsof obedience, authority,andkinshipsolidaritywithin the domains of family andkinship.I would alsodraw attention to the remarkableaccount by Gilsenan (1996) and to Das

(1990b,c) andChatterji& Mehta(1995) on thecomplicatedquestionof whatit

is for childrento inheritthe obligationto exact vengeance, to settle forpeace,or to bearwitness in a feudorinthe aftermath f a riot. Claimsoverinheritance

arenotstraightforwardn thesecontexts,buteven inrelativelystablesocieties,

anthropologicaldescriptionsof culture as either sharedor contestedhave ex-

cluded the voice of thechild.

Asin

Augustine's passage,the child seems to

move aboutunseen by its elders.Letme go on to the questionthatthe figureof the child raiseshere:What s

it to say that the child has a future n language?



WITTGENSTEINND ANTHROPOLOGY 75

There are several scenes of instructionin Philosophical Investigations-those pertaining o completinga mathematical eries,thosepertaining o read-

ing, those pertaining o obeying an order.All raise the issue of what it is to beabletoprojectaconceptorawordor aprocedurento new situations."A"writesdown a series of numbers;"B" watches him andtries to find a law for the se-

quenceof numbers.If he succeeds, he exclaims, "Now I can go on."Whathas

happenedhere?One powerful way of understandingwhat gives a child the confidence to

say"I cango on"is providedby Kripke 1982) with theexampleof whatit is tofollow a mathematicalprocedureor a rule. He points out that Wittgensteinshows convincinglythatwe cannotspeakof an innerunderstanding avingoc-

curred;nor canwe say thatthere are some basic rules that can tell us how to in-terpret he other rules. Here is how the problem appears o Kripke(1982:17):

Hereof course amexpoundingWittgenstein's ell known emarks bout"rule orinterpretingrule". t is temptingo answer heskeptic romap-pealing romoneruleto anothermore basic'rule.But theskepticalmovecan be repeated tthe morebasiclevel also.Eventuallyheprocessmuststop-"justificationsome o anendsomewhere"-and am eftwitha rulewhich scompletely nreducedoanyother.HowcanIjustifymypresent p-plication f sucharule,whenaskeptic ouldeasily nterprettso as toyieldanyof anindefinite umber f other esults? tseemsmyapplicationf it is

anunjustifiedtab nthe dark. apply he ruleblindly.

Withoutgoing into this argument n any detail, I want to comment on oneformulation hat s proposedby Kripke 1982):, thatour ustificationforsayingthata childhaslearnedhow to follow a rulecomes from theconfidencethatbe-

ing a member of a communityallows the individualpersonto act "unhesitat-

ingly but blindly." Kripke (1982) gives the example of a small child learningaddition andsays that it is obvious thathis teacherwill not acceptjust anyre-

sponse from the child. So what does one mean when one says thatthe teacher

judges that,for certaincases, the pupilmustgive the "right"answer?"Imeanthatthe teacher udges thatthe child has given the sameanswerthathe himselfwould have given.... I mean that hejudges thatthe child is applyingthe same

procedurehe himself would have applied"(Kripke 1982:90).ForKripke(1982) this appealto communityand to criteriaof agreement s

presented n Wittgensteinas a solution to the "skepticalparadox"-that if ev-

erythingcan be made out to be in accordwith arule,thenit can also be madetoconflict with it. But this skepticismwith regardto justification, says Kripke(1982), appliesto the isolated individual:It does not hold for one who can ap-

ply unhesitatinglybutblindly a rulethat the communitylicenses him orher toapply.As with applicationof a word in futurecontexts,there s no "inner tate"called "understanding"hat has occurred.Instead,as he says, there are lan-

guage games in our lives that license under certainconditionsassertionsthat



176 DAS

someone means such and such and thathis present applicationaccords withwhatwas said in the past.

My discomfort with this descriptionarises from the centralitythatKripke(1982) places on the notionof ruleas well as from the processeshe privilegesforbringingthe child in agreementwith a particular ormof life that would li-cense such blind andunhesitatingobedience to the rule.

If we take the teacher n Kripke(1982) to be the representative f the com-

munitywithin which the child is being initiated,then I am compelled to askwhetherthe"agreement"n a form of life thatmakes thecommunitya commu-

nityof consentcanbepurelya matterof making hechild arriveat the same con-clusion or the sameprocedure hat the adultwould have applied.Rather, t ap-

pearsto me that as suggested by Cavell (1990), thisagreement s a much morecomplicatedaffair in which there is anentanglementof rules,customs,habits,

examples,andpracticesand thatwe cannotattachsalvational mportanceo anyone of these in questions pertaining o the inheritanceof culture.Wittgenstein(1953) speaksaboutordersor commands n severalways:There s thegulf be-tween the orderand its executionorthe translationof an orderone time into a

propositionand another imeintoa demonstration ndstill another imeintoac-tion.I do not havethesense that heagreementn formsof life requires he childtoproduce he sameresponse hat he teacherdoes. To have a future n language,

the child should have been enabledto say "andafterI had trainedmy mouthtoformthese signs, I used themto express my own desires." There is of coursethe referencein Wittgenstein(1953:para.219) to following a ruleblindly.

"All hestepsarealreadyaken"means: nolongerhaveanychoice.Therule,oncestamped ithaparticular eaning,races he inealongwhich t isto be followed hroughhe whole of space,-But if something f this sortreallywere hecase,howwould thelp?

No;mydescription nlymade enseof itwas to beunderstoodymboli-cally.-I shouldhavesaid:This s how it strikesme[emphasisn theorigi-nal].

When obeyarule,I do not chose.Iobeytheruleblindly emphasisn theoriginal].

And then in paragraph221, he explains, "My symbolical expression was

reallya mythologicaldescriptionof the rule."I cannottakeup fully the ques-tion here of what it is to speak mythologically or symbolically, but fromtheaurathat surrounds he discussion of these issues, speakingof obeying a rule

blindlyseems to be similarto theway one speaksof wishes, plans,suspicions,orexpectationsas, by definition,unsatisfiedortheway one speaksof proposi-tions as

necessarilytrue or

false,that

is,that

theyare

grammaticaltatements.

WhenWittgenstein 1953) talks about rulesandagreementbeing cousins, the

kinshipbetween them seems more complicatedthanKripke's(1982) render-

ing of eitherof these two concepts allows.




I want to takeanethnographic ignettenow to show theentanglementof theideas of rule, custom, habit, practice, and example in what might be seen as

constituting agreementwithin a particular orm of life. Gilsenan (1996) hasgiven us a stunningethnographyof violence andnarrativenAkkar,a northern

provinceof Lebanon, n the 1970s. Fromthe severalnarratives n thistext, onecan infer the rules by which issues of vengeance and honor are articulated nthe exchange of violence. Indeed,if one reads Evans-Pritchard1940) on thefeud amongtheNuer, it all seems like a matterof kinshipobligationsthatcanbe stated in terms of cleargenealogical principlesthroughwhich feuds areor-

ganized.Onecouldimaginethat a male childbeing socialized into sucha soci-

ety could be taughthis place in the community n termsof rules that he learns,

much as Kripke'schild learnsto follow the sameproceduresas the adults whoareinitiatinghim if he is to learnhow to add. But herearesketchesfrom a storyfrom Gilsenan(1996:165-66) of how aboy becomes aman even ashe is beinginitiated into the rules of vengeance.

... the chosen young man walked, alone and in broaddaylight, up the

steephill separating he quartersof the fellahins and theaghas.... Everyonecould see him, a fact muchinsisteduponin accounts.At thetopof thehill, he

approachedthe small ill provisioned shop owned by Ali Bashir who was

standingatthe entrance ooking on to the saha(publicspace)before him ...

theboy simply saidto him: "Doyou wantit here in the shopor outside?"Aliran back inside, grabbed he gun, and was shot in the wrist,his weapon fal-

ling to the ground.The killer then emptiedhis revolver into Ali's chest. Hedied instantly.

Turninghis back on those fellahin who had witnessed his deed, the kil-ler-and now hero-walked back down the hill.... All agreedthat he pre-sented his back to the enemies ina granddisregard or his own safety.No onedaredretaliate.

This archetypalgeste of agnostic indifference filled everyrequirement fthe heroic act. He was superb n exit as he had been on entry.The aestheticsof violence were in all respectsharmoniouslyachieved.

My informants all remembered that the senior of their number, a re-nowned hunter,companionof the lords, and also a paternalhalf-brotherofthe wounded man, hailed the young hero when he came down to the lower

mosque atthe entranceof the village exclaiming:"Ya'aish Reja'it shabb "

(Long may you live You have returneda man ). He saluted one who had

gone up the hill a boy and come down a true,armsbearingyoung man.

Some mayarguethatthe scene of the instruction n Kripke(1982) bearslit-tle resemblance o the scene inwhich thisyoungmanis chosenby theelders asthe appropriatenstrumentof revenge. (But then is the example of learninga

procedure or solving a mathematicalproblema good analogyfor what it is toobey rules-a particularly larifyingone, as Kripkeclaims?)As fortheyoungboy, it is his displayof the aesthetics of violence thatmakeshima man.No onecansaythathe actedexactlyas theelderwould have acted in his place, for such



WITTGENSTEINNDANTHROPOLOGY 79

yelling while makingthe moves (para.200). ButWittgenstein eads us to a dif-ferent direction,one in which the entanglementof rules with customs, prac-

tices, andexamples comes to the fore: "Where s the connectioneffected be-tween the sense of the expression 'Letsplay a game of chess' andall the rulesof the game?-Well, in the list of rulesof thegame, in theteachingof it, in the

day-to-daypracticeof playing"(para.197).Wittgensteinused theanalogyof achess game to illuminate what it means for languageto be governedby rules.Inboth languageand chess thereare rulesthathave no foundation, hatis, therules cannotbejustifiedby reference o reality:Theyareautonomous,andtheycould be different.But there are limits to this analogy.The most importantdif-

ference,as pointedoutby Baker & Hacker(1980), is thatthe rulesof chess are

devised to cover every possible situation whereas our language cannot laydown the rulesthatwill cover every conceivablecircumstance.Hence there is

always a gapbetween the ruleandits execution. Couldwe say that the consti-tutive rules of ritualcan cover every conceivable circumstance? suggest thatwhile this is sometimes the ambition of the theoreticiansof ritual,as the mi-mamsa school of Indianphilosophyclaimed(see Das 1983), theembeddingofritualin the formsof life do not allow for this. In fact a situationof complete-ness would make ritual ike the inventedlanguagesof Wittgensteinrather hanthenaturalanguages,which are nevercomplete(Wittgenstein1953:para.18).

Baker& Hacker(1980) suggest that natural anguage games maybe distin-guished from inventedones by the fact that the formerare masteredonly in

fragmentswhile the latterarepresentedas complete languages.Thefeeling in

readingabout the builders' languageis thatthey seemedparticularlybereft ofculture.I suggest it comes precisely from thinkingof their language as if itwere complete.

An anthropological ext,we know, is markedby a certainkindof excess oracertainsurplus.Call it thick ethnography,call it fascinationwith detail.Most

ethnographiesprovide more than the theoreticalscaffolding requires.It has

been argued by some thatthis excess is embeddedin the emplotmentof eth-nographyas a performance Clifford 1990). Others have spoken of the diffi-

culty of portrayingways of life thatare "experiencedistant" o theirreaders

(Scheper-Hughes 1992). I suggest that this excess or this surplus expressesequallythedistrustof formalrules andobligationsas sourcesof social orderormoraljudgment. If cultureis a matterof sharedways of life as well as of be-

queathingand inheritingcapabilitiesand habits as members of society, then

clearly it is participation n forms of sociality (Wittgenstein's forms of life)thatdefine simultaneously he innerandtheouter,thatallow a personto speak

both within languageand outside it. Agreementin forms of life, in Wittgen-stein, is neveramatterof sharedopinions.Itthusrequiresanexcess of descrip-tion to capturethe entanglementsof customs, habits, rules, and examples. It

providesthe context in which we could see how we are to trace wordsback to



180 DAS

theiroriginalhomeswhenwe do not knowourway about:Theanthropologicalquest takes us to the point atwhich Wittgenstein akesup his grammatical n-

vestigation. It seems a naturalpoint to break here and inquireinto what are"forms of life," "criteria," nd"grammaticalnvestigation" n Wittgenstein.

LANGUAGE AND SOCIALITY

Forms of Life

The ideaof forms of life is whathas often been taken to signalthe availabilityof Wittgenstein'sthoughtfor sociology andanthropology.Wittgenstein akes

languageto be themarkof humansociality:Hence human orms of life are de-

finedby the fact thattheyare forms createdby andforthosewho are inposses-sion of language.As it is commonlyunderstood,Wittgenstein'snotion of lan-

guage is to see it in the context of a lived life, its use within human nstitutionsratherthanits systematicaspects. But is this enough?Cavell (1989) has ex-

pressedanguishat theconventionalviews of thistext,whichinhis understand-

ing eclipse its spiritualstruggle.

The dea[offormsof life]is, Ibelieve, ypicallyaken oemphasizehe so-cialnature f humananguage ndconduct, sifWittgenstein'smissions torebuke hilosophyorconcentratingoo muchonisolatedndividuals,r for

emphasizinghe nner ttheexpense f theouter,naccountingorsuchmat-tersasmeaning, rstatesofconsciousness,rfollowing ruleetc.... A con-ventionalizedenseof formof life will support conventionalized,r con-tractualenseofagreement. ut here s anotherenseofformof life thatwillcontest his.(Cavell1989:41)

WhatCavell findswantingin this conventionalview of formsof life is thatit is not able to convey the mutualabsorptionof the naturaland the social-it

emphasizesformbutnot life. A hasty readingof Cavell on thispointmay leadreaders especiallyanthropologists) o the conclusionthatthe ideaof natural s

takenas unproblematic n this interpretation.Let me dwell for a moment onthispoint.Cavell suggestsa distinctionbetween whathe calls theethnologicalor horizontal sense of form of life and its vertical or "biological"sense. Thefirst capturesthe notion of humandiversity-the fact that social institutions,such as marriageandproperty,varyacross societies. The secondrefersto thedistinctionscaptured n languageitself between"so-called'lower' or 'higher'forms of life, between say pokingat yourfood, perhapswith a fork,andpaw-

ing atit orpeckingatit"(Cavell 1989:42).It is the vertical sense of the formof

life that he suggests marksthe limit of what is considered humanin a society

andprovidesthe conditions of the use of criteriaas appliedto others.Thusthecriteriaof paindoes not applyto that which does not exhibit signs of being a

formof life-we do not ask whether a tape recorder hatcan be turnedon to

play a shriekis feeling the pain.Cavell suggests that the forms of life have to




be acceptedbut thatit is in the sensibilityof Investigationsto call not so muchforchangeas fortransfiguration. amgoing to leave aside,for themoment,the

relevance of thisquestionfor oragainst skepticism.InsteadI want to pointto adirection in which this distinctionbetween the horizontalandthe verticalmayalso show whathappensatthe limitof each. What s it thathumansocieties can

representas the limit? Here I draw from some of my own work to show howsuch an idea may strikea chord on the keys of anthropological magination.

For someyearsnow Ihave beenengagedintryingtounderstandherelationbetween violence (especially sexual violence) in everydaydomestic contextsandviolence in the extraordinary ontextof riotsduringpolitical events, suchas the Partitionof India or the violence againstSikhs following the assassina-

tion of then prime minister IndiraGandhi.In one of my recent papers(Das1996)Ihavetriedto conceptualize he violence thatoccurswithin the weave oflife as lived in the kinshipuniverse,as havingthe sense of apast continuous,while the sudden and traumaticviolence thatwas partof the Partitionexperi-ence seems to have a quality of frozen time to it. In discussing the life of a

woman, Manjit,who had been abducted and raped duringthe Partition and

subsequentlymarried o an elderly relative, I arguedthatwhile the violenceshe was submitted to by her husbandwas somethingsayable in her life, theotherviolence was not (could not be?) articulated.The horizontaland vertical

limitsseemedto me tobeparticularlymportantn formulating hisdifference.It is thisnotionof formof life,i.e. its vertical enseof testing he criteria fwhat t is to behuman,hat thinks implicatedntheunderstandingf Man-jit'srelationothenon-narrativefherexperiencefabductionnd ape.Menbeatuptheirwives,commit exualaggression,hame hem ntheirownselfcreations fmasculinity-butuchaggressions still"sayable"nPunjabiifethrougharious indsofperformativeestures nd hroughtory elling Idonotmean to saythat t is thereforepassively accepted-indeed the whole storyof Manjitshows that t is deeplyresented).Contrast hiswiththefantasticvio-lence in whichwomen were strippedand marchednakedin the streets;or the

magnitudes nvolved;orthe fantasyof writingpoliticalsloganson theprivatepartsof women. Thisproductionof bodiesthroughaviolencethatwas seen totearapart heveryfabricof life, was such thatclaimsoverculture hroughdis-

putationbecameimpossible.If words now appear, hey are likebrokenshad-ows of the motion of everydaywords .... Such words were indeed utteredandhave beenrecordedby otherresearchers,butit was as if one's touchwiththese wordsand hence with life itself hadbeen burntornumbed.Thehyper-bolic in Manjit'snarration f thePartitionrecallsWittgenstein'ssense of the

conjunctionof the hyperbolicwith the groundless.(Das 1996:23)

I havetaken thisexample

in some detailbecause itsuggests, throughmeansof anethnography, hatwhile therangeandscale of the human s tested and de-

fined and extended in the disputationsproperto everyday life, it may move

through heunimaginableviolence of the Partition butsimilarexamplesareto



182 DAS

be foundin manycontemporary thnographiesof violence) into formsof lifethat are seen as not belonging to life proper.Was it a man or a machine that

plungeda knife into theprivatepartsof a woman afterrapingher?Werethosemen or animalswho went aroundkilling and collecting penises as signs oftheirprowess? Thereis a deep moralenergy in the refusal to representsomeviolations of the humanbody, forthese violations are seen as being againstna-

ture,as definingthe limits of life itself. Thepreciserangeandscale of the hu-man form of life is not knowablein advance,any morethan theprecise rangeof the meaningof a word is knowablein advance.But the intuitionthat someviolations cannotbe verbalizedin everydaylife is to recognizethatworkcan-not be performedon these within the burnedandnumbedeveryday.We reach

througha differentroute the questionof whatit is to have a future n language.I believe thatthe limits of the formsof life-the limitsatwhichthe differencescease to be criterialdifferences are encountered n the context of life as it islived andnot only in thephilosopher'sreflections on it. These are the times inwhich onemaybe so engulfedby doubtsof the other'shumanity hatthewholeworldmay appear o be lost.

In his work on violence, Daniel (1997) calls this point the counterpointofculture: "ThecounterpointI speak of is somethingthat resists incorporationinto the harmonyof a still higherorderof sound, sense, or society" (p. 202).

Otheraccountsof violence similarlysuggestthatcertainkinds of violence can-not be incorporatednto the everyday (Langer 1991, 1997; Lawrence 1995):But thenhow is everydaylife to be recovered?

EverydayLife and the Problemof SkepticismIn describingwhat he calls the counterpoint o culture,Daniel (1997) inter-viewed severalyoungmen in SriLankawho were membersof various militantmovementsand who had killedwithropes,knives, pistols, automatic ire, and

grenades.But it is clear fromhispowerfuldescriptions hatwhat was traumatic

for Daniel inhearing

these accounts ofkillings

was the manner n which the

styles of killing and thewielding of words was interwoven.Here are some ex-tracts.

He washidingnthetemplewhenwegotthere.... Thisboywashidingbe-hind omegod.Wecaught im.Pulledhimout... Theboywas nthemiddleof theroad.Wewereallgoinground ndround im.Foralong ime.Noonesaidanything. hen omeonelungathimwitha sword.Bloodstartedush-ing out.... We thoughthe was finished. So they piled him on the tyre andthenset it aflame. Daniel1997:209)

Daniel findsthe shiftingbetweenthe we and the they to be noteworthy,but

what stunshim is the next thingthathappened.

Thiswastheearlydaysofmyhorrortory ollecting nd didnotknowwhatto say. So I askedhim a questionof absoluteirrelevance o the issue at hand.




HeavenknowswhyIasked t;Imusthavedesperately antedochangehe

subjectorpretendhatwe hadbeentalkingabout omething lseallalong.

"What s yourgoal in life?"I asked.Thereplyshotrightback:"I wantavideo(VCR)."Daniel1997:209)

Wittgenstein'ssense of exile of wordsis what comes to mind here. It is not

that one cannot understand he utterancebut that in this context when these

words are spoken, they seem not to belong-they seem not to have a home.

Daniel's (1997) turningawayfrom this event is a desperateone. He lurchesto-

ward a hope (p. 211)-the rustle of a hope-wherever it may be found and

whenever tmaybe found.Andit is found n a scene of almostquietdomesticity.He recountsan event in the 1977 anti-Tamilriots in which a Sinhalawomanis

journeyingon atrain;she is inonepartof thecompartment, nd on another eatis a retiredTamil schoolteacher.A mob began to dragout Tamilsand to beat

them.The Sinhalawoman,recognizableeasily as a KandyanSinhalesebecause

of the way she wore hersari, moved over to his side andquietlyheld his hand.

Somemembersof the mobentered hecompartment, utthegestureof conjugal

familiarity persuadedthem that the gentleman was a Sinhala, so they pro-ceeded elsewhere.Daniel (1997) thinksof the gestureof the womanas a sign,

gravidwithpossibilities.Butwhat arethesepossibilities?Froma Wittgenstein-ianperspective, hese seemto be only possibilitiesof recovery hrougha descent

into the ordinarinessof everydaylife, of domesticity, throughwhich alone thewordsthathave been exiled maybe broughtback.Thiseverydayness s thenin

the natureof a return-one thathas been recoveredin the face of madness.

The intuitionof everydaynessin Wittgensteinappears hereforequite dif-

ferent from, say, that of Schutz (1970), who emphasizes the attention to the

"paramounteality"of the everydayandconceptualizestranscendenceas mo-

mentary escapes from these attentions.It is also different from the many at-

temptsmadein recentyearsto capture he idea of the everydayas a site of re-

sistance (Jeffery & Jeffery 1996; Scott 1985, 1990). My sense of these ap-

proachesis that there is a searchin these attemptsfor what Hans Joas (1996)calls the creativityof social action. Ratherthansearchingfor agency in greatandtransgressivemoments of history,it is in the everyday scriptsof resistance

that t is thought o be located.There s nothingwrongwith thisway of concep-

tualizingthe everyday, for it has the advantageof showing society to be con-

stantlymade rather hangiven. Theproblemis that the notion of the everydayis too easily securedin these ethnographiesbecausethey hardlyever considerthe temptationsand threatsof skepticismas partof the lived realityand hencedo not tell us what is the stake in the everydaythatthey discovered.

In Cavell's (1984, 1988, 1990) renderingof Wittgenstein's appeal to theeveryday,it is found to be a pervasivescene of illusion and tranceand artifici-

ality of need. This, to my understandingand experience, is because boththe

temptationsand threatsof skepticismaretaken out from the studyof the phi-



184 DAS

losopherand reformulated s questionsaboutwhatit is to live in the face of the

unknowabilityof the world(for my purposes especially the social world).Let

me depart or the moment from the kinds of scenes of violence that have beendescribedby Das (1990b, 1995a,b,1997),Daniel (1997), Langer 1991, 1997),Lawrence(1995), andmany others. These scenes may appearexceptional to

many.Instead,I ask, is the sense of the unknowabilityof the social world alsoencountered n othercontexts, in the context of normalsuffering,so to speak?Some scholars suggest that this unknowabilityof the social world has beenmade more acuteby theprocesses of modernityorglobalization(see Appadu-rai 1996:158-78), whereasmy sense is thatuncertaintyof relationsis partofhumansociality as it is embeddedwithin certainweaves of social life (Das &

Bajwa 1994). But let me takemy example from an anthropologicalclassic.Evans-Pritchard's1937) account of witchcraftamongthe Azande has of-ten been seen as thatsociety's way of dealingwithmisfortunerather han withthe essential unknowabilityof other minds. Forinstance,Taussig (1992) has

written,

To cite the common phraseology,science like medical science, can explainthe "how"and not the "why"of disease; it can point to chains of physicalcause and effect, but as to why I am struckdown now rather han at someothertime, or as to why it is me rather han someone else, medical science

canonly respondwithsomevarietyof probability heorywhich is unsatisfac-tory to the mind which is searching for certaintyand for significance. InAzandepractice,the issue of"how" and"why"are folded into one another;

etiology is simultaneouslyphysical, social, and moral.... Mydisease is a so-cial relation,andtherapyhas to addressthatsynthesis of moral,social, and

physical presentation. p. 85)

It is true that Evans-Pritchard1937) veered in several directions in ac-

countingforthe Azande beliefs inwitchcraft, ncludingquestionsaboutthera-

tionality of the Azande. If we pay some attentionto the descriptionsthat he

provides,however,we find not so mucha searchfor

certaintyand

significance,but rathera shadow of skepticismregardingother minds (Chaturvedi1998).Moreover,this skepticismseems to have somethingto do with the manner n

which languageis deployed.Evans-Pritchard1937) reports hatthose who speakin a roundaboutman-

ner and are not straightforwardn their conversationare suspectedof witch-craft:"Azandearevery sensitive andusually in the lookout for unpleasantal-lusions to themselves in apparentlyharmlessconversation" p. 111). Very of-ten they find doublemeaningin a conversation p. 116) andassumethat harmwould be done to them, as in the following instance recountedby Evans-

Pritchard hows:

An old friend of mine, Badoboof the Akowe clan, remarked o his compan-ionswho werecleaning upthegovernmentroadaround hesettlement hathe




hada foundastump f woodoverwhichTupoihadstumbledndcuthimselfa fewdayspreviouslywhenhehadbeenreturningateatnight roma beer

feast.Badoboadded o his friends hat heymustclear he roadwell,as itwouldneverdo forso importantmanasTupoi o stumble nd all if theycouldhelp t. Oneof Tupoi's riends eardhisremarkndrepeatedt tohisfatherwhoprofessedo seeadoublemeaningn it and o finda sarcastic u-ance n Badobo'swholebehaviour.pp.115-16)

A pervasive uncertaintyof relations is indicated by many factors: the

Azandeaphorism"Onecannotsee intoa manas into anopenwovenbasket";he

Azande belief that one cannot be certainthatanyone is free fromwitchcraft;and the carethataZandemantakesnot to angerhis wives gratuitouslybecause

one of themmaybe a witch andby offendingher he may bringmisfortuneonhis head. And although a Zande would not state that he is a witch, Evans-

Pritchard 1937) reportsthat one may know nothing about the fact of one's

own witchcraft(p. 123). Uncertaintyabout otherminds here is linked to a cer-

tain alienationfromthe languagethat one speaks,as if the languagealwaysre-

vealed either more or less than the words spoken. Indeed it is the intimate

knowledgeof how Azande converseandinterpretone another'smeaningsthat

Evans-Pritchard1937) considersimportant o anunderstanding f how attri-

butionsof witchcraftaremade:"Oncea personhas been dubbeda witch any-

thinghe says maybe twisted to yield a secretmeaning.Even when there is noquestionof witchcraftAzande arealways on the look-outfor doublemeaningin their conversations" p. 131). Here we have the intuitionof the humansas if

one of theaspectsunderwhichthey could be seen is as victims of languagethat

could reveal things aboutthem of which they were themselves unaware.This idea touches upon the Wittgensteinian heme of language as experi-

ence (andnot simply as message). He takes examplesof punning,or of a feel

for spelling:If you did not experiencethe meaningof words (as distinctfrom

only using them), then how could you laugh at a pun? The sense is of being

controlledby the words one speaksor hears or sees rather han of controllingthem.There s some similarity o Austin's (1975) concerns withperformativesespecially with perlocutionary orce.

A contextthatI considerdecisive forunderstandinghese themes is that of

panic rumor.I shall take the example of anthropologicalstudies of rumortoshow how thetheme of theunknowabilityof the social world and the themeof

humansbecomingvictims to words come to be connected.Althoughrumor snot an example thatfigures in Wittgenstein,I proposethat one may find con-nections in the way in which there is a withdrawalof trust from words and a

special vulnerabilityto the signifier in the workingof rumor and the exile ofwords underskepticism.Several historians and anthropologistshave emphasizedthe role of rumor

in mobilizing crowds (Rude 1959, 1964; Thompson 1971). Historians of the



186 DAS

subaltern chool have seen it as a special form of subaltern ommunication,"a

necessary instrumentof rebel transmission" Guha 1983:256). Othercharac-

teristics of rumor dentifiedby Guha(1983) are theanonymityof the source ofrumor, ts capacityto buildsolidarity,andtheoverwhelmingurgeitprompts nlistenersto pass it on to others. The excessive emphasison communication,however, obscuresthe particular eatureof languagethat is often broughttothe fore when we considerthe susceptibilityto rumorduringtimes of collec-tive violence (Das 1990a,b, 1998; Tambiah1996). Bhabha(1995) has posedthe questionin an incisive manner:What is special to rumoras distinct fromother forms of communication?He goes on to isolate two of its aspects. Thefirst is rumor's enunciative aspect, and the second its performativeaspect.

"The ndeterminacy f rumour," e says, "constitutes ts importanceas a socialdiscourse. Its intersubjective,communaladhesiveness lies in its enunciative

aspect. Its performativepower of circulationresults in its contiguousspread-

ing, an almost uncontrollable mpulseto pass it on to anotherperson" p. 201).He concludes thatpsychic affect and social fantasyarepotentforms of poten-tial identificationand agency for guerrillawarfare and hence rumorsplay a

majorrole in mobilizationfor suchwarfare.Otherviews of rumor,especiallythose derivedfrom masspsychology,have

emphasizedthe emotional, capricious,temperamental,and flighty nature of

crowds (Le Bon 1960). Somethingcommonin these situations s an essentialgrammatical eature(in Wittgenstein'ssense) of what we call rumor: hatit is

conceived to spread.Thus while imagesof contagionand infectionareused to

represent umor n elitediscourse, heuse of theseimagesis notsimplya matter

of the elite's noncomprehensionof subaltern ormsof communication. t also

speaksto the transformation f language;namely, that insteadof being a me-

diumof communication,anguagebecomescommunicable, nfectious,causing

thingstohappenalmostas if theyhad occurredbynature. nmyownwork on ru-

mor in a situationof mounting panic of communalriots, I have identified the

presenceof anincompleteorinterruptedocialstorythatcomes backin the formof rumorandan alteredmodalityof communicationDas 1998).Themoststrik-

ingfeatureof whatI identifyaspanicrumors inwhichit is difficult o locateanyinnocentbystanders)s thatsuddenly he access to contextseems todisappear.n

addition, here s an absenceof signaturenpanicrumors o thatrumorworksto

destroyboth the sourceof speech and the trustworthiness f convention.(Thischaracteristicseems to distinguish perlocutionaryforce from illocutionaryforce.In the latter, rust n conventionandlaw allows promisesto be madeand

marriages o be contracted.)Cavell (1982) has invoked Othelloas theworking

outof a skepticalproblematic.The

mountingpanicin which themediumof ru-

mor leads to the dismantlingof relationsof trustat times of communalriots

seemsto sharethetempoof skepticism.Onceathoughtof a certainvulnerabil-

ity is lost, as Cavell shows (1982, 1994), the world is engulfedwithoutlimit.




Unlike Cavell, Williams (1996) considersskepticaldoubts to be unnatural

doubts. He holdsthattheexperiencethatwe knownothingaboutthe realworld

has to arisefroma particularly trikingexperienceof error.Yet no experienceof error,he argues,can give us a feel of a total loss of the world.The threatof

skepticismfor Cavell lies in ourfeeling that our sensationsmay not be of this

world: But for Williams this threatarises in the philosophizingof Cavell be-

cause he has internalizeda contentioustheoreticalview. Cavell, on the other

hand,suggests in all his work thatskepticaldoubt arises in the experienceof

living. Skepticismis forhim a site on which we abdicateourresponsibilityto-

ward words-unleashing them from our criteria.Hence his theme of disap-

pointmentwith language as a human institution(Cavell 1994). The site of

panicrumorsuggests similarlya subjection o voice (comparable o Schreber's

subjectionto the voices he heard).There seems a transformation romsocial

exchange to communaltrance,and if this trance is to be resisted, one has to

lead works back to the everyday,much as one might lead a horse gone sud-

denly wild to its stables.

COMPLEXITYOF THE INNER

It mightbe temptingto supposethatthe unknowabilityof the social world es-sentially relates to the unknowabilityof the other. But the questionof skepti-cism in Wittgensteindoes not posit an essential asymmetrybetween what Iknow aboutmyself andwhat I know aboutthe other. His famous argumentsagainstthepossibility of a privatelanguageis not that we need sharedexperi-ence of languageto be communicable to one anotherbut that without such a

sharingI will become incommunicable o myself. The innerforWittgenstein sthus not an externalizedouter-there is no suchthingas a private nnerobjectto which a private languagemaybe foundto give expression.This view is not

to be construedas Wittgenstein'sdenial of the innerbut rather hatinner statesare,ashe says, in need of outwardcriteria Johnston1993, Schulte1993). Thuswhat appearoften in our language as intrinsic differences between differentkinds of inner states arebasically grammaticaldifferences in disguise. PartIIof Philosophical Investigations begins with the following:

One can imagine an animalangry, frightened,unhappy, happy, startled,but hopeful?And why not?

A dogbelieves his master s at the door. But can he also believe his masterwill come dayafter to-morrow?And what can he not do here?-How do I do

it?-How am I supposedto answer this?Canonly thosehopewho can talk?Onlythose who have mastered he use

of a language?That is to say, thephenomenaof hope are modes of this com-

plicatedform of life. (Wittgenstein1953:174)



188 DAS

The reference to languagehere is obviously not to suggest thatthose whohave mastered he use of a languagehave acquired he logical skills necessary

to express hopebutrather hatgrammarells us whatkinds of objectshope andgrief are. Thus the inner statesare not distinguishedby some reference o con-tent butby theway we imaginesomething ike an innerstate for creatures om-

plicatedenoughto possess language(andhence culture).I would like to illus-tratethis idea with reference to the discussion of belief and then follow the il-lustrationwith a discussion on pain.

Belief

Thequestionof belief inPhilosophicalInvestigationsappearsas the asymme-

trybetween theuse of first-person ndicativeandthird-personndicative. Twoobservations in the second partof this text are crucial. The first is "If therewere a verbmeaningto believe falsely it would nothave a firstpersonindica-tive"(Wittgenstein 1953:190).Thesecond,closely related o thatobservation,is "I say of someone else 'He seems to believe. ....' And other people say it of

me.Now, why do Ineversay it of myself, noteven when othersrightlysay it ofme?-Do I not myself see or hearmyself, then?" Wittgenstein1953:191).

Wittgenstein s asking,Whatdoes a belief look like from the inside? Whenhe says that it is possible to misinterpretone's own sense impressionsbutnot

one's beliefs, he is notreferring o thecontentof an innerexperiencebutratherto the grammaticalmpossibilityof inferringone's belief (orone's pain) intro-

spectively. That is why he says thatif therewere a verb that meant "to believe

falsely," it would lack a first-personpresent indicative. Wittgensteinis not

stating a metaphysicaltruth about belief here, but a grammaticalone. Evenwhen it is possibleto make such statementsas "It s rainingandIdo notbelieve

it,"the grammarof the termbelief does not allow us to make these statements,for we cannotimaginea context for such statements-they violate the pictureof the innerin the grammarof the word belief.

Anthropologistshave wrestledwith the problemof belief in the context oftranslationof cultures.Theproblemhas beenpersistent:Whenanthropologistsattributebelief statements o membersof other cultures(i.e. non-Westerncul-

tures),arethey makinga presumption hata commonpsychological categoryof most Westernlanguagesand cultures is to be treatedas a common human

capacitythat canbe ascribed o all men and women?Suchquestionshave beenasked of severalcategoriesof emotion(see Lutz & Abu-Lughod1990,Lutz &White 1986), but the case of belief is special because it has been anchored o

questionsof universalhumanrationalityon the one hand(Gellner1970,Lukes

1977)and common human condition of

corporealityon the other

(Needham1972).As far as the side of universalrationality s concerned,thepuzzle formany

scholars seems to be to accountfortheapparentrrationality f beliefs likethat




of witchcraftor of other scandalousstatements: orexample,that the Nuer be-

lieve that twins are birds(Evans-Pritchard 956). In his polemicagainstthe an-

thropologicaltendency to find coherence in such statements,Gellner(1970)statesthatonly throughan excessive charityof translationcan such beliefs be

rendered ntelligible. He seems to suggest thatthey are either to be taken as

evidence of prelogicalthoughtor as ideological devices to hide the power ex-

ercisedby privilegedclasses in society (the latterpoint is made with regard othe category of barak among Moroccan Berbers). Gellner warns that "[t]omake sense of the concept is to make non-sense of the society" (1970:42).Asad (1990) has given a devastating critiqueof Gellner's method,especiallyof the manner n which in his haste to pronounceon the irrationalityof such

concepts he actuallymanagesto evade all questionson their use in everydaylife of the society under consideration.Wittgenstein's generalview seems tobe that there aremany empiricalassertionsthat we affirm without speciallytesting them and that their role is to establishthe frame within which genuine

empiricalquestionscanbe raised and answered(Cavell 1969,Williams 1996).If this scaffolding is questioned,then we arenot in the realmof mere differ-ences of opinion. Thus to someone who is offering an explanation of theFrench RevolutionI will probablynot ask whether she has any proof that theworld is not an illusion. If such aquestion s asked,we shallhave to saythatour

differences are noncriterialdifferences that cannot be resolved by adducingmoreevidence.

Thus, for the Azande therearegenuine empirical questionsabout how oneis to know whetherone's illness is to be attributed o the witchcraftof a neigh-bor or a wife. The final empirical proof of the cause is provided by the post-mortemof a body to show whetherwitchcraftsubstance s foundin the body.Obviouslyif one shifts this kind of questionto the kind of question nwhich weask a Zande f he or she believes witches to exist, one is shiftingthe framecom-

pletely. In this revised frame(in which we are certainthat witches do not ex-

ist), one can ask questions only about witchcraftbeliefs, or witchcraftcraze,but not about superiorityof one kind of witchcraftmedicine over anotherorwhether unknowing to oneself one may be a witch-a source of dangertoone's neighborsand friends. What does this mean for thepracticeof ethnogra-phy?Onestrategy s thatadoptedby Fevret-Saada 1977), who felt thatto openher mouth on issues of witchcraft n Bocage was to becomeimplicated nutter-ances that constitute the practices of witchcraft. Thus her ethnographybe-comes an account of the complicatedrelation that the ethnographer omes tohave with the "bewitched"and the "unwitchers." t does not raise questionsabout the

rationalityor truthof witchcraft beliefs because there is no

wayin

which such questions may be asked from within the language games of the

Bocage. The otherstrategyis to thinkof ethnographyas a persuasivefiction

(Strathern1988). I shall return o the questionof translation.For the moment



190 DAS

let me say only thatthedisappointmentnthe indeterminate laceof anthropo-logical knowledge is perhaps ike the disappointmentwith languageitself, as

somehownatural o the human.Thisdisappointments a greatWittgensteiniantheme and shouldperhaps ead us to thinkthatthereasonwhy so-called contra-dictions in belief do notparalyzeone in any society is thatone's relationto theworld is not on thewhole thatwhich wouldbe based onknowing(Cavell 1969,1982, 1994, 1995).

Belief and Corporeality

Needham's (1972) enquiryon the status of belief statementsand the problemof translation s on

entirelydifferentlines. He states,

If they [beliefs]areassertions bout he innerstatesof individuals, s bycommonusage heywouldnormally e taken o be, then,so faras myac-quaintance iththe literatureoes,no evidenceof suchstates,as distinctfrom he collective epresentationshatare husrecorded,s everpresented.Inthis case wehavenoempirical ccasion oaccept uchbelief-statementsas exactandsubstantiatedeports boutotherpeople. p.5)

Needham goes on to address this problemthroughWittgenstein's idea of

grammaticalnvestigationandparticularlyhataninnerprocessstands n need

of outwardcriteria.However,his notion of grammaticaldoes not appear o bethat of Wittgenstein's-it is hasty and confuses philosophicalgrammarwiththe notionof grammarn linguistics(perhaps t is comparable o a case of sur-face grammar n Wittgenstein,but I am not on suregroundhere). The burdenof Needham's argumentis that even when we are convinced that a persongenuinelybelieves whathe says he believes, ourconviction is not based on ob-

jective evidence of a distinct nnerstate:"We can thus be masters,as we are,ofthepracticalgrammar f belief statementsyet remainwholly unconvincedthatthese rest on an objective foundation of psychic experience" (Needham

1972:126).Now if I amcorrectthat the inner is not like a distinctstatethatcan be pro-

jected to the outer world throughlanguage in Wittgensteinbut rather like

somethingthatlines the outer,then languageand the world (includingthe in-nerworld)are learnedsimultaneously.Neeedham is rightin suspectingthat a

grammarof belief in the Englishlanguageandin forms of life in which beliefsare held, confessed, defended, solicited, guarded,and watched over may bedifferentfrom theway in which similarconcepts throughwhich the worldandthe word are connected n the woof and weft of some othersociety's life. How-

ever, the solution Needham (1972) offers to the problemof translation-thatsome innerstates areaccompaniedby bodily expressions (suchasbodyresem-

blance, naturalposture,gesture, facial expression)whereas other innerstates

(such as belief) have no specific behavioral physiognomy-is to misread




grammaticaldifferences as intrinsic differences in the contentof experience.

Wittgenstein'sway of describingthis idea was to say that thebody is a picture

of the soul orthatthe soul standsnext to thebody as meaningstandsnextto theword.

We are thusnotgoing to get out of theproblemof translationby anappealto

certainhumancapacitiesthat are real anduniversal,as contrastedwith others

that are artificial constructs of various cultural traditions,as proposed byNeedham(1972). That s not to say thatwe do not read thebodybut rather hat

we dependon grammaro tell us what kind of anobjectsomething s. Insertingthecentralityof thebody in humansociety is importantnot in inferring nternal

statesof mind butin the intuitionof languageas abodyingforth,as inWittgen-

stein saying, "Sometimesa cry is wrenchedout of me." Let us now considerthis questionwith regard o pain.

Pain and Private Objects

Wittgensteinon pain is a major philosophicaland anthropological ssue, yetthere is no highway of thoughtavailableto traverse.It would have to be from

the side roads andthe meandering n uncharted erritories hat one would find

the relationbetween Wittgenstein'sthoughtson pain and the anthropologicaltask of studyingformsof sociality. ConsiderCavell (1997), who says,

Philosophicalnvestigationss thegreatworkof philosophy f thiscenturywhosecentralopicmaybe said o bepain,andone of itsprincipal iscover-ies is thatwewillneverbecome learabout herelation f attributionsf the

conceptof pain,noraboutanyof theconcepts f consciousness,orof anyunconsciousness-neitherfmyattributionfpain omyselfnorofmyattri-bution fpain o others-withoutbringingntoquestionheendlesspictureswe have n store hatprejudiciallyistinguishwhat s internal rprivateocreaturesespecially neswith anguage, umans)romwhat s external r

public o them. p.95)

In some of the most creativeanthropologicalwritingon this issue, we findthe disappointmentwith languageto somehow be integral o the experienceof

pain (Good et al 1992). Wittgenstein emphaticallydenies the possibility of a

private anguagein this case, as in othercases, that refers to what is internalor

privateto creatures.But what this means is that forWittgenstein he statement"I am inpain" s not (ornotonly) a statementof fact but is also anexpressionofthat fact(Cavell 1997). Theinternal,as Ihave stated, s notan internalizedpic-ture of the outer-nor is the externalonly a projectionof the internal.In this

context, what is unique aboutpain is the absence of any standinglanguages

either in society or in the social sciences that could communicatepain, yet itwould be a mistake to thinkof painas essentiallyincommunicable Das 1997).At stake here is not the asymmetrybetween the first person ("I am never indoubt aboutmy pain")and the thirdperson ("you can never be certain about



192 DAS

anotherperson's pain"),but rather hatto locatepainI have to take theabsenceof standing anguagesas partof the grammarof pain.To say "I am in pain" s

to ask for acknowledgment rom the other,just as denial of another'spain isnot an intellectual failure but a spiritualfailure, one that puts our futureatstake:"Onemighteven say thatmy acknowledgement s my presentation,or

handlingof pain. You are accordinglynot at libertyto believe or disbelievewhat it says-that is the one who says it-our future is at stake" (Cavell1997:94). Some passages from The Blue and Brown Books (Wittgenstein1958)areremarkablen the notion of languageas embodiedorbodyingforth.

Inorder o see that t is conceivablehatoneperson houldhavepain nan-otherperson'sbody,onemustexaminewhatsortsof factswe call criterial

forapainbeing n acertain lace.... Suppose feelthatapainwhichontheevidenceof thepainalone,e.g.withclosedeyes,I should all a pain nmylefthand.Someone sksmeto touch hepainful potwithmyrighthand. dosoand ookingaround erceivehat am ouchingmy neighbour'sand....Thiswouldbepain elt inanother's ody. p.49)

I have interpreted his passage (see Das 1995a,b, 1997) to propose that

Wittgenstein'sfantasyof mypain being located inyour body suggests eitherthe intuitionthat the representation f sharedpainexists in imaginationbut is

not experienced,in which case I would say thatlanguageis hooked rather n-

adequately o the worldof painor that the experienceof paincries out for thisresponseto the possibility thatmy paincould reside in your body and that the

philosophicalgrammarof painis aboutallowingthis to happen.As in the case

of belief, I cannot ocateyourpainin the sameway as I locate mine. The best I

can do is to let ithappen o me. Now it seems to me thatanthropologicalknowl-

edge is preciselyabout ettingtheknowledgeof the otherhappen o me. Thisis

how we see Evans-Pritchardinding out about himself thathe was "thinkingblack"or"feelingblack" houghhe resistedthetendencyto slip into idioms of

witchcraft.In the Introduction o thispaper,I talkedof Wittgenstein's dea of a

philosophicalproblemas havingthe form"Ido not know my way about."Inhis remarkson pain, to find my way is similarto lettingthe pain of the other

happento me. My own fantasyof anthropologyas a body of writing is thatwhich is ableto receive thispain.Thus while I mayneverclaim thepainof the

other,nor appropriatet for some otherpurpose(nationbuilding,revolution,scientific experiment), hatI can lendmy body (of writing)to thispainis what

a grammatical nvestigationreveals.

THEDARKNESSOF THISTIME

In the prefaceto Philosophical Investigations,Wittgenstein(1953) wrote, "It

is not impossible that it should fall to the lot of this work, in its poverty and

darknessof thistime, tobring light into one brainoranother-but, of course,it




is not likely" (p. vi). Beam (1998) writesthatthe destructivemoment of theIn-

vestigationsthreatens hefabricof ourdailylives, so it is more destructive han

textbookskepticismof thephilosopherorthe cafe skeptic.If in life, saidWitt-genstein,we are surrounded y death,so too in the health of ourunderstandingwe are surrounded y madness(Wittgenstein1980:44). Rather hanforcefully

excludingthis voice of madness,Wittgenstein(1953) returnsus to the every-

day by a gesture of waiting. "If I have exhausted the justifications, I have

reachedbedrock,andmy spade is turned.Then I am inclined to say: 'This is

simplywhatI do (handle)'"(para.217). Inthispictureof theturnedspade,we

have the pictureof what the actof writing maybe in the darknessof this time.

Thelove of anthropologymay yet turnout tobe an affair n whichwhenI reach

bedrockI donot break hrough he resistanceof the other.But in thisgestureofwaiting, I allow the knowledgeof the otherto markme. Wittgenstein s thusa

philosopherof both cultureandthe counterpointof culture.

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